#also brought to you by the fact that someone from my province is gonna be on the international spacestation

[night-creeps]

I still think I was onto something when I said that Kim's fixation on the revolutionary air brigades felt kind of like a kid with glasses really wanting to be a firefighter and then learning that you can't be a firefighter if you don't have natural 20/20 visiom because the heat would melt plastic or cause burns from metal frames and contacts weren't a safe choice either. It feels a lot like that. He wanted to work on those aerostatics but couldn't because of his eyesight

[tchallasbabymama]

Troubled Waters Chapter Four

Hey, yall! Here’s the next chapter of Nia and T’Challa’s journey. I’m super proud of this one (I’m proud of all my work, but still.) With the help of @wordsfromthelivingghost being a bomb ass beta reader, I think this is some of my best work yet. And I’m only gonna get better!

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories (and catch up on this one if you’re new here.) I love when y’all talk to me and share my work so others can discover it, so hit those comment and reblog buttons. Also, be sure to let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!😘

Word count: 8,894

CW: A little blood and cutting but NOT for self-harm reasons. If it bothers you, skip the second half of the scene at Kokou’s temple.

Nia pressed her cheek to the window, careful not to smudge the thin line of white clay painted down the center of her face. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth hung slightly open as she watched Wakanda zoom by from hundreds of feet in the air. She had always loved seeing what the world looked like from above, but it had been years since she last got to enjoy the view. When she was young, Amare would carry her in his arms as he flew high above the ground to give her a taste of what she so desperately wanted: to feel the wind beneath her nonexistent wings.

T’Challa half-watched Nia from his seat off to the side of the cabin as he flipped through news articles on his kimoyo beads. As they flew over a statue of Bast in her full panther form, he could tell the bright blue light radiating from the tunnel beneath the goddess intrigued her. Her head tilted slightly to the left, and he turned off his beads right as she turned around with a question on her lips.

“That’s Mt. Bashenga,” T’Challa answered prematurely as he stood and made his way over to the window, looking out at his kingdom as Okoye steered the Royal Talon over the Mining province.

“Why’s it glowing?”

“Vibranium.”

“Ohhh.” Nia thought back to the human history books she read as a child that told their story of the founding of Wakanda. Obviously, they had censored the part about aziza, but she still found their revisionist history fascinating. “That’s where the meteorite landed, right?”

T’Challa nodded, impressed by her knowledge.

“Ubaba always said vibranium was ‘the humans’ magic’,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

T’Challa was mildly shocked. He had never considered it that way, but he supposed it was sort of otherworldly what they were able to do with the substance. In comparison to other humans, anyway.

Okoye kept her focus on flying the ship, but T’Challa couldn’t help but spot the slight glow that emanated from Nia’s skin while she ogled the scenery. The king reflected on the description of aziza he had read the day before and remembered that it mentioned their luminous skin. He had noticed that even when she was standoffish towards him, she seemed to radiate light from the inside out, but seeing her literally light up in excitement brought him joy.

When Birnin Zana came into view, Nia’s eyes curiously trailed along the tributaries that moseyed through the metropolis and she was reminded of the magic realm’s big city, Birnin Umlingo. She smiled fondly at how similar they were despite the fact that Birnin Zana was so much bigger. It was nestled between rolling hills and sharp cliffsides, and she was pleasantly surprised to see all the lush greenery dispersed throughout the city. There were small parks everywhere and most of the roofs were topped with well-kept gardens. The skyscrapers and apartment buildings stretched to the sky like the trees that lined the streets, but Nia was almost blinded when the sun bounced off of an impressive structure in the middle of the city. Two almost conical, shining towers spiraled up from an ancient foundation that swirled around the base like the flowing tributary that surrounded most of it like a moat. The towers were connected by a long bridge about a third of the way up and despite her amazement, Nia couldn’t help but wonder why they had to build two towers instead of just one.

“Bast, is that the palace?” She pointed up ahead.

T’Challa smirked proudly. He never tired of seeing the dual vibranium spires that towered over even the tallest skyscrapers throughout the city.

“It is,” he said proudly.

“It’s so big,” she whispered, then turned to look at him. “Does it ever feel empty?”

He furrowed his brows, making a little crease appear between them that Nia found endearing. “How do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just you and your family that live there, right?”

The king nodded.

“Then why do you need so much space? And why two instead of just one? It seems so unnecessary.”

Okoye bit the inside of her lip to keep from snickering at Nia’s sincere inquiries. She wasn’t too keen on Nia and wasn’t quite sure why she was there, but she had worked for T’Challa long enough to know he didn’t like people questioning him.

“I don’t- it’s not just...look.” He pointed back out the window to distract her, and Nia whipped her head around to watch their descent to the landing pad in front of the palace.

The three of them exited the Talon, but instead of entering T’Challa’s gratuitously large home, they made a left and walked through the palace gates and into the bustling streets of Birnin Zana. Nia had been to the big city before when she was young, but it seemed like it had exploded over the last couple of decades. It had always been a busy hub of commerce for the Merchant tribe, but business owners from the other tribes had moved there in droves over the past few years to get a piece of the pie.

The three of them passed through the financial district with ease. Nia kept her neck craned to look up at the tall banks, corporate offices, and massive parking garages filled with hovercars. In the distance, she saw an arena and she wondered what took place there. Did they have many concerts? Sporting events? She made a mental note to ask about that later and continued to take in her surroundings. The maglev trains zooming by high above the street caught her attention, and her eyes widened. She had never been on a train before.

They eventually made it to Three Step Town, the cultural hub of the city and Nia looked on in awe at the various businesses that surrounded them. Once again, she was reminded of Birnin Umlingo as she looked around at the diversity that surrounded her. Most of the older folks were dressed in the traditional clothing of their tribes, but the younger Wakandans seemed to prefer a more modern look. They really were a spectacle. Some people had brightly colored manes and shining vibranium tattoos that decorated their skin, and the sight had Nia’s wheels turning. She had never really experimented much with her look, but they were giving her the inspiration to try something different.

Just as Nia began to ponder what body modification would look good on her, she felt someone grab her and yank her to the side of the street. She began to protest right as a streetcar full of people rolled by. Nia turned to thank her savior, smiling sheepishly when she realized it was Okoye.

“Watch where you’re going,” the general warned harshly and let go of Nia’s arm. The two of them joined T’Challa as he spoke to a snaggletoothed young boy who had proudly shown him the Black Panther action figure that he carried everywhere. The boy’s parents thanked the king for being so polite before they said goodbye and went on their way. Nia’s heart warmed a little at seeing T’Challa be so kind to them. He could have easily ignored the family or had Okoye intervene, but he seemed to enjoy interacting with his people. As the three of them continued on their journey, a small smile pushed up the corners of Nia’s mouth knowing he wasn’t as arrogant as she assumed.

Nia was almost overwhelmed by the many shops they passed by. She could buy anything she wanted: jewelry, instruments, furniture, hats. It seemed like they had everything. However, she came to a halt when they walked by a store with colorful, hand-woven baskets hanging out front. The old lady that ran the shop noticed Nia staring and came forward to help her pick one out, but paused when she saw that the king was standing beside her. She saluted him fondly and turned to face his companion.

“Excuse me, how much for this one?” Nia asked the shopkeep as her fingers ran over the intricate patterns along the sides of a mid-sized sweetgrass basket.

“For you it is free,” the older woman said through a bright smile that crinkled her eyes. Before Nia could protest, she had already taken it down and pushed it into her arms.

“Are you sure? I can pay-”

“Just tell people where you got it,” the woman winked before going back inside to help a customer that was ready to check out.

Nia couldn’t believe how kind the woman had been to give her the gift, but her amazement was cut short by T’Challa leaning in close and ruining the moment.

“Just one of the perks of traveling with the king,” he teased.

Nia rolled her eyes and stepped away from him, continuing down the street with her basket swinging in the crook of her elbow. She had been so caught up in her surroundings that she hadn’t noticed the stares from passersby and began to get a little self-conscious. A few people even snapped a picture or two of the king and his elusive friend, some of which would surely end up on gossip blogs by the end of the day.

Her nervousness was short-lived and quickly got replaced with longing when they turned the corner and walked right through the food district. Not only did the colorful produce stands call to her, but the smells of curries and grilled meats continuously pulled her attention from left to right. However, when a deliciously sweet aroma tickled her nose, she stopped dead in the middle of the road.

“Where is that coming from?” Nia sniffed the air and veered off the main street as she followed the scent to a man that was serving up deep-fried sweet plantain on a stick, drizzled with chocolate. T’Challa kept a close eye on Nia but stayed back and let her wander up to the dessert cart alone. He watched as she engaged the man in conversation and saw her come alive when she tasted the sample he provided her. A small smile crept up the king’s face, but his amusement was cut short by Okoye clearing her throat next to him.

“My king,” she started, and he turned slightly in her direction, nodding for her to continue as he kept his eyes on Nia. “If I may...what exactly is her purpose here with us?”

“Nia is a devotee of Bast, and I believe she may be helpful in our attempts to understand what has happened to her,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Okoye sensed his unwillingness to go further into detail and grew quiet again as Nia damn near skipped back over to them with her hands full.

“Here you go,” Nia sang as she held out two of the desserts for them to take. “He saw I was with the king and gave me three for free!”

Neither of them was hungry, but they just couldn’t say no to her big, childlike eyes.

“Thank you,” T’Challa waved to the man behind the counter and took a bite of the dessert, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. “Mmm”

“See? It’s amazing,” Nia said with a mouth full of plantain. Even Okoye had to agree.

The three of them ate their midmorning snack as they strolled through the streets, eventually making their way to a much quieter section on the outskirts of the busy city center. Just as Nia finished licking the last bit of chocolate from the wooden stick, she came face to face with an ancient-looking stone building that didn’t quite fit the vibe of the modern neighborhood. Her eyes zeroed in on the large statue at the entrance. It was a being with the body of a man and the head of an ibis holding a scroll in one hand and a staff in the other.

“Welcome to the flagship branch of the Wakandan Public Library,” T’Challa said proudly.

While Nia loved a good library, she was a little confused about why they were there. “I thought we were going to a temple.”

T’Challa wiggled his eyebrows as he stepped past her, climbing the steps with Okoye in tow, “This is the temple.”

Nia’s curiosity got the best of her, and she followed behind the king and his general. They threw their sticks away in the trash cans outside of the doors that swished open as they approached. Nia hadn’t expected the building to have such modern technologies based on the look of it, but she surmised the library would have a few more surprises up its sleeves.

“Kumkani wam!”

All three of their heads turned towards the woman behind the large marble desk as she scrambled to salute the king, dropping the small stack of books from her arms. T’Challa quickly rounded the desk and smiled at her as he crouched down to pick the books off of the floor. Before she could stoop down to help him, he had already placed them neatly on the desk.

“T-thank you, my king,” the woman stammered and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Never in her life had she imagined she would be so close to royalty, much less her biggest crush. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” he started, trailing off to get her name.

“Fatima, sir.”

“What a beautiful name,” he flirted innocently and leaned on the cool marble as Nia and Okoye both fought their eyes from rolling to the ceiling. Okoye was used to his flirtatious manner making women swoon at his feet, but it still irked her to no end. They had a job to do, and he was wasting time. Nia, however, felt the tiniest tinge of something deep in her gut as she watched him make eyes at the beautiful librarian. She waved it off as annoyance since she still wasn’t the king’s biggest fan. Adding “womanizer” to her list of reasons not to like him certainly tipped the scales further away from him, balancing out his actions from earlier.

Fatima giggled as she struggled to make eye contact with the handsome king, “Thank you, your highness.”

“Please, call me T’Challa,” he implored, resting his hand over his heart and flashing his irresistible smile.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t do that-”

“I insist.”

Okoye cleared her throat, and T’Challa’s eyes reluctantly shot in her direction.

“Anyway, Fatima, we were wondering if Abdu is in today,” T’Challa continued as he straightened up and stood to his full height, making Fatima swoon even more in his presence. Her eyes wandered down to his chest, but she snapped out of it and attempted to look him in the eye. Her knees nearly buckled under the intensity of his gaze, but she stood firm.

“Y-yes, he is, my ki-”

T’Challa reprimanded her with a simple raise of his right eyebrow, and she quickly corrected herself.

“I mean, T’Challa,” Fatima giggled once more. “I’ll go get him for you.”

“Thank you, Fatima,” he smiled down at her, watching as she walked away with a pep in her step and her hips twitching just a little more than usual.

Fatima disappeared behind a green velvet curtain, and when they were sure she was out of earshot, Nia and Okoye both turned to look at the king. They wore matching expressions of disapproval, but, for some reason, it stung to see on Nia’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Must you flirt with every woman you see?” Okoye butted in, clearly exasperated by his antics.

Nia’s eyebrows jumped as a teasing smirk settled on her lips. “Oh, so this is a common occurrence?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many-”

“General,” T’Challa warned, and Okoye stopped talking.

Nia tried to contain a laugh, but it came out more like a snort than she intended. Just as T’Challa opened his mouth to make fun of her, Fatima appeared from behind the curtain with a heavy-set man with tortoiseshell glasses just a few steps behind her.

“T’Challa, my boy! Oh, excuse me, my king.” The man bowed sarcastically and crossed his arms in a salute. T’Challa waved him off with a smile and a click of his tongue, and the two men embraced each other. Nia had noticed T’Challa wasn’t really one to demand formalities, but the man’s familiarity with the king intrigued her.

“Abdu, how have you been?”

It had been several months since T’Challa last visited the library. Abdu had worked and worshipped there for decades and had watched the king grow into the man before him. Some of T’Challa’s fondest childhood memories consisted of him spending hours curled up in the stacks, flipping through whatever book caught his eye that day. Abdu would bring him story after story for him to get lost in, and the older man never tired of T’Challa’s curiosity. No matter how many questions he threw at him.

“Getting old, but I can’t complain,” the much shorter man said as they pulled apart. He looked around T’Challa and noticed his company. “Okoye, a pleasure to see you as always.”

“You as well, Abdu,” she smiled.

“And who might this lovely creature be?” Abdu asked as his gaze fell on Nia. She bristled at his choice of words but said nothing. Even as a child, she had always been sensitive to the word “creature” and felt it offensive to refer to non-humans as such. She knew he had no idea about her bloodline, though, and since he meant no harm she simply ignored the terminology.

“Nia Olu, sir,” she introduced herself with a nod of her head, and he returned the gesture.

“Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. And what is it that you do, Nia Olu?”

“I am a healer and a devotee of Bast.”

“A devotee, huh? Well, I think we will get along nicely,” he smiled warmly at her before turning back to the king. “What can I do for you all today?”

“Well, actually, Nia is a big part of why we’re here,” T’Challa began. “It seems Bast has gone missing. Neither of us has been able to contact her as of late.”

“Are you a priestess?” Abdu asked Nia, confused as to why a simple devotee would be partnered with the king for such a task. Okoye felt vindicated by his questioning but stayed quiet.

“No, sir.”

“Then, I must say, I’m a little confused on how you would have a direct connection to her-”

“She is highly favored in the goddess’ eyes,” T’Challa cut in, hoping his vague answer would be enough to dissuade Abdu from asking too many questions. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide anything from a priest of the god of wisdom, but he also knew he couldn’t give away Nia’s full identity. “We were wondering if maybe you could see if Thoth knows where she is or why she isn’t answering.”

Abdu could tell there was something else to the story, but decided not to press the subject. He figured that if the king felt it was important enough to keep from him, then he had to trust his judgment.

The priest nodded and motioned for the three of them to follow him. T’Challa winked at Fatima before falling in step with Abdu, and once again, Nia’s and Okoye’s eyes struggled to remain straight ahead as they followed behind the two men.

Nia couldn’t help but stare in awe at the rows and rows of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves they passed as they walked through the centuries-old library. She imagined herself spending hours combing through the texts and soaking up whatever knowledge held, just like she did with the many books Amare provided her with as a child. Her daydreaming was cut short when they passed through the children’s section, and she noticed a display of picture books, one of which caught her eye. There, on the cover, was a colorful illustration of an aziza sitting in a tree, watching over a group of children as they played in the grass below him.

Before she knew it, Nia had grabbed the book and started flipping through the pages, scanning the words and pictures for any sign of historical truth. She found none, but her hope didn’t die out. Maybe, just maybe the library held onto more of the past than the Wakandans realized. She knew magical creatures were relegated to folktales, but she began to wonder how many of those tales were historically accurate, if any. She hadn’t noticed that the others had stopped and were watching her tear through the book like it held the secrets to the universe.

“You like that one? It’s a fairly new release. Very popular with the children,” Abdu said, but his words fell on deaf ears.

“Nia?” the king called out to her.

She jumped and dropped the book, but T’Challa caught it before it could hit the ground.

“Yeah? Sorry, I just…” Nia trailed off, unsure of what to say. All three of them looked at her curiously, but when T’Challa’s eyes graced the cover, he understood why she had been called to it. “Are there many stories like this?”

“Of aziza?” Abdu asked for clarification, and Nia nodded. “Sure! Kids love fantastical creatures. You know, some of them even swear up and down that they’ve seen them in real life.”

T’Challa and Nia shared a quick glance as he set the book back where she found it. Of course, Okoye caught their quick exchange.

“Such wild imaginations,” Nia murmured, and the group continued on their trek. She was quiet for a moment as she tried to figure out the best way to word her next question when she decided to just go for it. “Abdu, is there any mention of, um, species that are no longer around in any of these books?”

T’Challa looked at her knowingly out of the corner of his eye. He knew what she was getting at, and he was curious about Abdu’s answer. After seeing Nia’s book the day before, his mind had begun to wonder about ancient Wakandan texts. She had told him that they coexisted long ago, so there had to be some evidence hidden deep in the bowels of the library. If there was proof anywhere, it was here.

“Of course!” Abdu said excitedly and pointed to the far left wall. “Species naturally go extinct all the time. If that interests you, check out our history section over there.”

Nia and T’Challa both cataloged that information for later and started mentally planning their next visits.

The deeper they traveled into the vast library, a tingling grew in Nia’s stomach. There was great power there, and she could feel it. The tingling intensified as they arrived at a large door with an image of Thoth that had been hand-carved by artisans long ago.

“We’ll take it from here, Okoye,” T’Challa ordered, and the general nodded before standing at attention with her back to the door. Then, his eyes fell to Nia. “Ready?”

“I think…”

“That’ll serve you well here,” Abdu joked as he pushed open the heavy door.

Nia wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting to see, but a winding staircase certainly wasn’t on her list of possibilities. The three of them quietly descended the steps, and all that could be heard was the sounds of their sandals connecting with the stone as they went. After what seemed like forever, Abdu came to a halt at another large door and turned to face his visitors.

“You must enter with pure intentions and a cool head, or he will not answer. Understood?”

Nia and T’Challa answered in unison.

“Yes, sir.”

“Of course.”

“Good,” Abdu smiled at them and reached for the handle, pushing it open and revealing what looked to be a private study. The lamps along the stone walls lit up when they entered, and Nia was once again amazed at how the ancient seemed to flawlessly combine with the modern. As she looked around, she noticed that instead of books, there were scrolls stacked neatly on the shelves. A high-backed chair sat behind a large wooden desk with several scrolls strewn about it, and in the center of the room, there was a stone lectern that looked like it had been there since the dawn of time. Colorful pillows surrounded it on the floor, and next to it stood another statue of Thoth. This time, his hands were out and he was holding a staff that resembled the one from the statue out front, except this one was made of gold. This one was real, and it made the hairs on the back of Nia’s neck stand at attention.

Abdu made his way over to the closest shelf and grabbed a scroll from the top of the stack. He then crossed the room again and stood behind the lectern. When he unrolled the scroll, Nia and T’Challa were both surprised to find that it was blank. They watched with bated breath as he produced a shiny gold pen from his pocket and removed the staff from the statue’s arms.

“You two, come sit down,” Abdu said to them, pointing to the floor pillows.

They obeyed his order, and each grabbed a pillow. T’Challa sat cross-legged while Nia carefully placed her new basket on the floor and tucked her feet under her. They waited patiently while Abdu mumbled a prayer under his breath. Despite T’Challa’s enhanced hearing, he could barely make out what Abdu was saying, but the more he spoke, the colder the room became. The priest continued his prayers for several minutes until the staff began to glow with blinding orange light and his mouth snapped shut tight. A soft breeze blew through the room as his eyes glowed the same color as the staff, and the pen in his left hand started to frantically scribble words onto the formerly blank scroll. His hand moved faster than humanly possible, and Nia recognized what was happening as a possession. She bowed her head in the god’s presence and nudged T’Challa in his side to do the same. He followed suit, but neither of their eyes left Abdu, too curious to look away.

It seemed like forever had come and gone as the two sat in silence, watching in awe while Abdu filled the scroll as he channeled Thoth. The only sound that filled the air was the fast-moving pen on the papyrus and a faint humming from the staff, but suddenly, it all stopped. The staff’s light waned, and Abdu blinked his eyes back to their normal shade of hazel. He carefully placed the staff back in the statue’s hands and read over the words he had been given from his god. A frown appeared on the priest’s face, and Nia made eye contact with T’Challa. Neither one felt good news was coming.

“Well,” Abdu broke the tense silence, “to sum it up, it seems Thoth hasn’t seen or heard from Bast in several weeks. He says that’s very unlike her, as I’m sure you know, T’Challa.”

The king nodded. “Is there anything else? Did he say where she might be?”

“Oh, he said plenty, but not about your question. He can be quite long-winded at times,” Abdu murmured as he scanned the text once more to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. He then looked down at his two visitors with an apology in his eyes. “I wish I could’ve been of more help.”

T’Challa stood from his seated position and reached a hand out to Nia. She swatted it away and stood on her own, straightening out her long, flowing skirt before sending Abdu a warm smile. “Thank you for trying.”

“It was a pleasure, my dear.”

“So,” Nia turned to the king, “where to next?”

--------

The smile never left Okoye’s face as she landed the Talon in an open field and proudly led them to their next destination. They had traveled to Okoye’s hometown in the Mining province, and she nodded at her former neighbors as they waved to get her attention. It wasn’t often that she could return to Birnin Djata, but since she was on duty, she had to remain professional.

The town was much smaller than Birnin Zana, and the walk to the temple was much shorter this time around. A few moderately-sized dwellings lined the road to the temple, and Nia could see the town square in the distance. They passed groups of miners boarding and exiting the trains that took them to and from work, and Nia couldn’t help but wonder what all that vibranium looked like up close.

When they arrived at the temple, Nia was pleasantly surprised that this one actually looked like a place of worship. The wall that surrounded it looked as old as time, but the vibranium door in the center had to be no more than a hundred years old. A strange sound echoed from inside, and although Nia thought she recognized it, she was confused on why it was coming from a temple of all places.

“Is something wrong? What’s going on in there?” she asked with concern, making Okoye’s smile expand and her eyes light up.

“Sparring.”

Nia’s confusion grew, and she turned to T’Challa for clarification.

“Kokou is the god of war. Fighters often train here, and many of his followers go on to become great warriors. Including Okoye,” he explained.

“Ohhh, ok.”

Okoye led them up the temple’s steps, and Nia’s attention was drawn to the rows of fire that lined the walkway. As the party of three got closer to the doors, they slowly parted to grant them access. Loud shouts and grunts came from the right, and Okoye led them down the hallway, directly towards the noise.

Nia watched excitedly as the warriors-in-training sparred with one another. Fists connected with flesh, spears sliced through the air, and fighters seemed to glide across the padded floor. She recognized some of the fighting styles and thought back to her younger days when Amare took it upon himself to teach her some of the combat skills he had to learn for his days as a secret operative. Even though she was a healer, Nia sure was scrappy and could hold her own. It had been a while, though, and she was sure she had forgotten her training over the years.

A bell rang on the other side of the training room, and all of the fighting ceased. Okoye bowed her head in deference as a tall, muscular older woman in red emerged from an observation room and smiled softly in her direction.

“My king,” the woman saluted T’Challa, making all of the fighters whip their heads around and salute him as well. The woman crossed the floor as her trainees stood at attention, and grabbed Okoye’s hands in hers. “Okoye, my dear, it has been too long.”

“Priestess Yaa, how good to see you.”

“And my king, welcome to the Temple of Kokou.”

“Thank you, priestess.”

“What brings you here?” she asked before shooting a sly glance at Okoye. “You never come visit anymore, so I know it must be important.”

“My apologies for keeping her from you,” T’Challa interjected.

“None needed. I knew when Okoye became general that she would have little time for us anymore,” Yaa waved him off and smiled proudly at Okoye before her eyes fell to Nia. “And who is this?”

“Nia Olu,” she respectfully bowed her head.

“And you are a fighter too, no?”

“Um, not exactly. My father taught me how to fight when I was young, but I am a healer and a devotee of Bast.”

This was the first T’Challa had heard of her knowledge of combat, and he wondered what else he didn’t know about her.

“I’m sure it’s still in there somewhere. You have a warrior’s spirit.”

Nia was surprised by the priestess’ comment but thanked her nonetheless.

“Priestess Yaa, we have a problem that you might be able to help us solve,” the king stated.

Yaa nodded and called to her class, “Keep sparring. I’ll be back.”

The room came alive again, and Nia couldn’t help but watch the dozens of bodies moving about with powerful grace as they fought.

Yaa gestured for them to follow her, and she led them around a corner to get away from all the noise. “How can I help you, my king?”

“Bast is missing, and we would like to ask Kokou if he knows where she is,” he cut straight to the point, and Yaa appreciated his brevity.

She gestured again, and the four of them relocated to the other side of the temple. They entered a large, empty room with nothing except a wall of ancient weapons and a huge, raging fire pit in the center.

“This eternal flame was gifted to us by Kokou many millennia ago as a way of contacting him,” Yaa narrated. “In order for him to answer, you will each have to give a sacrifice.”

“I didn’t bring anything to-”

“Blood, dear. You sacrifice blood. He is the god of war, after all,” Yaa chuckled as she glided over to the wall of weapons. Her fingers danced along the flat side of the blade of a vibranium dagger with a red and gold hilt before wrapping her hand firmly around the grip and removing it from its position. Yaa tested the weight of it in her hand as she rejoined the group. Without warning, she sliced her palm open and allowed her blood to drip into the flame. The priestess noticed the look of horror on Nia’s face and attempted to quell her fears. “Don’t worry; you’ll only need a drop or two.”

Okoye was first to step up, pressing the dagger’s tip into her hand and drawing a small amount of blood. She handed the dagger to T’Challa as she made a fist and let her blood droplets fall into the fire pit. The king did the same before passing the dagger to Nia. She looked at it apprehensively, but T’Challa continued to hold it out for her to take.

“Go on, dear,” Yaa urged. “We will heal you up after.”

Nia and T’Challa locked eyes as they were both reminded of the night they became reacquainted with one another. T’Challa’s wound would quickly heal on its own, but she wouldn’t be able to use her powers to heal herself in Yaa’s and Okoye’s presence. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the feeling of her palm stinging with the memory of alcohol pads. T’Challa knew where her mind had wandered to and took her formerly injured hand in his as he ran his thumb over her palm.

“It won’t be as bad as last time,” he whispered so only Nia could hear him. “Just a little cut, ok?”

Nia’s mouth dried up, and her eyes traveled to Okoye and Yaa. The priestess seemed intrigued by his tenderness towards her, but the irritation on Okoye’s face was clear as day. Nia remembered that he was a serial charmer and removed her hand from his. She reached for the dagger and quickly pricked her finger, squeezing a couple of droplets into the flame.

Yaa set the dagger aside to be cleaned and watched as the flames grew in intensity. All four of them stepped back when the fire surged towards the sky and took the vague shape of a man.

“Kokou,” Yaa fell to her knees, and the others followed her lead. “Thank you for answering our call.”

“Where is the fight?” his voice boomed around the expansive room as what looked to be his head swiveled from side to side taking in the four who summoned him. He had no eyes, but Nia felt his gaze land on her and linger for a moment too long.

“There is no fight this time, but we have an inquiry,” Yaa said as she stood.

“Very well,” Kokou’s voice rang out again, and the flames whipped in T’Challa’s direction. “What is so important that the king requires my assistance? Have you not a god of your own?”

T’Challa looked to Yaa for reassurance as he began to stand, and she nodded for him to continue. “Yes, I do, but she is missing.”

“Missing?! What do you mean missing?”

“She has not spoken to me in weeks, and Thoth has not seen or heard from her either.”

Kokou turned back to Nia. “And you have not heard from her?”

“No, sir,” Nia stood tall as she answered him.

“I am surprised she has not spoken to you of all...people,” he said with a mischievous lilt in his voice. Nia stilled as she realized that he knew what she was. She slyly made eye contact with T’Challa, and though his expression was unreadable, she knew he had to have heard it, too.

“You know, blood can tell you a lot about a person...or being,” Kokou began to pace around the large fire pit. “Who they are, what their lineage is...you, Nia, are very special. But I am sure you know that already, don’t you?”

Nia ignored the confused stares from Yaa and Okoye and stared straight into where she assumed Kokou’s eyes to be. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

“Kokou-”

“Patience, your highness,” the god chastised T’Challa, “I was getting to it. I just had to take a little detour first since you brought me such an interesting young lady. Now, to answer your question: sorry to disappoint, but no. I do not know where Bast is. I wish I did, though; she is an excellent sparring partner.”

Nia and T’Challa both deflated a little bit. They had hoped for a better answer than that.

“Thank you, Kokou,” T’Challa spoke with his head bowed to the god. The others did the same, and just as quickly as he had appeared, Kokou was gone.

--------

“Third time’s the charm,” T’Challa mumbled as he held the intricate iron gate open. Nia and Okoye walked through, and the general was blown away by the beauty before them. The botanical gardens sat on a protected stretch of land on the border between the Mining and River provinces, but people from all over the country traveled there to witness its splendor.

Nia, however, was no stranger to the gardens. She made sure to visit a few times a year just to sit and commune with the diverse group of plants, but she never knew it doubled as a place of worship. She liked that the gardens were never full of people, and depending on how deep she veered off the main walkways, she could avoid the public altogether. Except for the delightful presence of one of the attendants, Nia always managed to find solitude and serenity among the plants of the botanical gardens.

“Has this always been Mujaji’s temple?” she asked as the three of them followed the long, winding path that led to the greenhouses in the back of the gardens.

“As far as I’m aware. Why?”

“It’s just that I’ve been here before, and I never knew. I always felt like there was...something here, but I just assumed I was feeling the energy from all of the plants.”

“You can do that?” Okoye asked, and she caught another shared glance between Nia and the king. They had been doing that all day, and she was growing tired of it.

Nia opened her mouth to try to fix her slip-up, but she was saved when a young woman about her age emerged from behind a mango tree and recognized her colorful headwrap.

“Nia?”

“Sukutai!”

Nia ran over to her, and the women embraced. A smile crept up T’Challa’s cheeks at seeing Nia’s faint glow again, but, unfortunately, it seemed that Okoye might have seen it as well. The king ignored her pointed stares and continued to watch Nia and the woman from afar.

“What are you doing here? It’s been months since I saw you last!” Sukutai playfully scolded her before leaning in like she had a secret to tell. “You have to see the new fire lily blooms; I know they’re your favorite.”

“They are,” Nia chuckled, “but I’m here on business today.”

“Business?”

Nia gestured behind her, and Sukutai’s eyes widened in shock as she finally noticed T’Challa and Okoye standing in the distance.

“My apologies, my king,” she quickly saluted him, but he waved her off.

“None needed. Any friend of Nia’s is a friend of mine.”

Sukutai’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline as she turned back to Nia. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but how come you never told me you knew the king?”

“He’s new,” Nia shrugged nonchalantly.

Sukutai shook her head fondly at her friend as T’Challa and Okoye came to stand next to her.

“What brings you to my humble garden, your highness?”

“I would say this is anything but humble, priestess,” he chuckled. This time it was Nia’s turn to be surprised.

“Priestess?!”

“Yeah, I don’t like to advertise it,” Sukutai shrugged.

“Well, I guess we both have our secrets,” Nia teased, making her friend giggle.

“I guess we do.”

“Sukutai, we are here because we need to speak with Mujaji. Bast is missing and-”

“You need to see if he knows where she is.”

“Yes,” T’Challa nodded.

“Right this way,” Sukutai said as she stuck her elbow out for Nia. She wrapped her arm around it, and the two of them took off, chatting about the flora they passed on the way.

Sukutai led them to the back of the botanical gardens towards the greenhouses. There were several smaller ones scattered around that were about the size of Nia’s home, but the very last greenhouse was huge. It stood about two stories tall and expanded across an acre of land.

“How did I miss this?” Nia wondered aloud.

“You weren’t looking for it,” Sukutai winked. “Too distracted by the pretty flowers, as usual.”

“You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, Nia,” T’Challa teased, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Despite the fact that she was still very hesitant to trust Nia, Okoye had to stifle a chuckle at her attitude. It was refreshing for her to see a woman that seemed to be immune to his charms.

The four of them entered the greenhouse, and Nia was amazed at what she saw. Instead of beautiful flowers and lush trees and bushes, there were rows and rows of crops.

“I knew you had some fruit trees, but I didn’t know you grew other foods here, too,” she said with her mouth wide open.

“We have to. Who do you think taught us how to work the land?”

Nia nodded as she soaked up Sukutai’s words. It had never occurred to her that the humans had to learn agriculture from somewhere...or someone. She wondered if aziza had learned from him, too, and if so, why hadn’t she heard about it? Were their history books incomplete, too? Nia’s train of thought was cut short as they arrived at the center of the greenhouse. There was a large patch of soil surrounded by an old stone wall no more than two feet tall. A small plaque near the opening caught the visitors’ eyes, and they crowded around to read it.

“The first garden?” Nia gasped, and her eyes traveled to the rich soil.

Sukutai smiled proudly, “That’s right. This is where Wakandans first learned how to grow sorghum. Mujaji’s magic still inhabits the land, and he allows us to speak to him through it.”

“How does it work?” T’Challa asked, equally in awe of the plot of land that allowed his people to prosper. Yes, they had vibranium, but what use would that be without the ability to feed themselves? Had they remained hunter-gatherers, they never would have gotten to where they are today.

“I’ll show you,” Sukutai said as she untied her shoes. “Nia, would you like to help?”

“M-me?”

“Yes, you, silly. You have the heart and hands of a gardener.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“First thing’s first, shoes off,” Sukutai instructed, and Nia slid out of her sandals. “Now, you see those jars full of seeds over there?”

Sukutai gestured behind them, and they all turned around to follow her line of vision.

“Yes,” Nia’s voice shook as she spoke.

“Don’t worry about what each one is. Just go pick whichever one calls to you.”

Nia nodded and padded her way over to the table covered in glass jars. She felt the power radiating from each one, but she felt compelled to pick up a small jar full of green coffee beans. Her hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but she pulled back and looked to the priestess for permission.

“Go ahead, take one,” Sukutai urged, and Nia carefully screwed the top off. She reached in and grabbed one of the beans, and walked back over to Sukutai.

“Ok, how does this work?”

“We start with a yes or no question. Let’s try ‘Do you know where Bast is?’ and go from there, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Follow me.”

Sukutai stepped onto the sacred land, and Nia did the same. The ground seemed to vibrate, and Nia’s face lit up. The slight glow returned to her skin, and this time Okoye was sure in what her eyes beheld. She quickly turned towards T’Challa, who looked at her out of the corner of his eye but kept quiet. He shifted his weight away from her nervously and continued to watch Nia and Sukutai work.

“You feel it too, huh?” Sukutai asked with a sly smile on her face.

“It feels...it feels like my feet are buzzing.”

Sukutai’s head cocked to the side, and her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand exactly what was happening. Nia obviously wasn’t a priestess of Mujaji, yet his magic spoke to her in some way. That wasn’t normal, and neither was the faint highlight that appeared on her skin.

“Yeah, it does,” she agreed and shook the suspicions out of her head. She knelt to the ground, and Nia followed suit. “Hold the seed in your hands, close to your face- yes, just like that. Now, close your eyes and let it feel your energy. When you are ready, speak to it. Ask your question.”

Nia shut her eyes and focused on the feeling of the seed in her hands. She pictured it growing big and strong, and after a few moments, her mouth was filled with the taste of coffee. It was ready. She brought it closer to her lips and whispered, “Do you know where Bast is?”

When she peeled her eyes open, she saw a huge grin on Sukutai’s face.

“You’re a natural.”

“Thanks,” Nia giggled. “What now?”

“Now you plant it.”

“Anywhere?”

“Wherever you choose.”

Nia studied the ground around her and turned a little to the left. She held the seed in her left hand as she made a small mound in the dirt with her right. She gave the seed one last glance before pushing it into the soil.

“No water?” she asked.

Sukutai shook her head with a mischievous smile, “No need.”

“Ok...so now we wait?”

“It won’t take long. Usually about-” Sukutai’s eyes widened. “Look!”

Four sets of eyes trained on the tiny green sprout that pushed up from the ground.

“It’s never happened that fast before.”

The sprout turned into a seedling, and the seedling matured right before their eyes. Just as hope began to fill the air, it left, and the coffee plant shriveled up. The leaves turned brown, then a murky black before decomposing entirely. Everyone’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and silence descended upon the group. Without even asking, they all knew it was a resounding “no.”

--------

The silence was thick on the ride back to Nia’s. Okoye flew the Talon with a million questions running through her mind, all of which seemed to come back to Nia. Who is she? What is she?

Nia left her position by the window, no longer interested in the ground below, and met T’Challa by his sand table. She watched for a moment as the molecules dispersed and recollected themselves in the shapes of the temples they just visited and the gods they just contacted. He chewed on his lip as he tried to put the pieces together, but there just wasn’t enough information.

“T’Challa?” Nia spoke softly to keep Okoye from hearing.

“Hm?” he grunted without looking up.

“What if the problem isn't in this realm?”

The king tore his eyes away from the table, and the sand fell flat.

“You are suggesting we go to the magic realm?”

“Again with the ‘we,’” she sighed. “No, I’m suggesting I go to the magic realm.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment before calling out to Okoye, “General?”

“Yes, my king?”

“You will travel back to the palace alone-”

“No-” Nia tried to stop him.

“I will be staying with Nia a little while longer. I will call when I need you.”

“Yes, my king.”

Nia dragged her hand down her face, then immediately looked down and noticed the clay that had transferred to her palm. She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned in frustration, both at the king and at her careless mistake.

“T’Challa, I just said-”

“I know what you said,” he snipped, “but this is my kingdom, and I need to know what’s going on.”

“But-”

“I’m going with you, and that’s final.” He turned away and joined Okoye in the cockpit.

Nia sat off to the side and pouted the rest of the way home. When they arrived, Okoye reluctantly left the king behind and flew off to the palace.

“She could’ve just stayed outside, you know,” Nia fussed as they entered her home. “Now she definitely knows something is up.”

He rolled his eyes, “She knew something was up the moment you started glowing.”

Nia froze and mentally kicked herself for not using the glamor spell her ubaba had taught her. She was in such a rush that morning that it completely slipped her mind. The smug look on T’Challa’s face made her want to slap him, so she stormed down the hall to her bathroom to fix her facepaint. As soon as she finished, Nia heard the king make a strange noise and looked out to see what he had done. A laugh erupted from her belly as she watched the king stand on the couch to get away from Sego. He glared at her, but his eyes promptly fell back on the python that was too close for comfort.

“Call off your snake!”

“Python,” she giggled. “Sego, stop messing with him, please.”

Sego turned her way, and Nia could see the playful look in his eyes. He thoroughly enjoyed messing with the king. T’Challa climbed down from the couch and let out a calming breath as Sego slithered away to the kitchen.

“So the mighty Black Panther is scared of pythons, huh?” she mocked him as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Not scared...I just don’t like them.”

“Mhm. If it makes you feel any better, he’s not fully a python. He’s a shifter.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning sometimes he’s in his human form, sometimes he’s in his python form.”

T’Challa thought about it for a moment. “Actually, that does make me feel better. Thanks.”

Nia smirked and rolled her eyes.

“So,” T’Challa cleared his throat, “what now?”

“First, we go see my ubaba, then the queen.”

“Ok...how do we, you know, get there?”

“It’s easy,” she bragged as she walked over to him. “Give me your hand, and I’ll show you.”

Nia reached out to him, and when their hands connected, an image of the two of them sharing a feverish kiss popped into her mind. She gasped and pulled back as though she had touched a hot stove.

“What is it?!”

“N-nothing, I just,” she had to think of something quick. “My headwrap. I take it off when I go to the magic realm...to, uh, let my ears breathe, you know?”

“Um, ok.”

Nia hurried from the room and left T’Challa standing there, confused about what just happened. He knew she was lying despite the fact that her excuse had some semblance of truth to it. Thanks to the heart-shaped herb, T’Challa could hear her heartbeat, and something had caused her heart to almost beat out of her chest. His suspicions didn’t last for long, though, because when she came back from her room, his jaw dropped. Of course, he had noticed her beauty the first time, well the second time, he laid eyes on her, but as she came down the hallway fluffing her coils out into an afro that framed her face like an obsidian halo, he felt a knot form in his chest.

“Ready?” she asked, obviously over whatever had been bothering her.

“Yeah,” T’Challa cleared his throat. He was suddenly parched. “Ready.”

“Ok.” She grabbed his hands again, but this time there was no vision. Nia sighed in relief and looked him dead in his eyes as the atmosphere around them began to thicken. “Be cool. Don’t embarrass me.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @dersha89, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser, @love--life--passion, @yourstrulybrii

[zackcollins]

i do (cherish you) || nolan patrick

masterlist

Author’s Note: Surprise, bitches! I’m back with another Player/Reader fic! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve had the inspiration to write one, so I’m really happy that I’ve finally been able to write one. Sorry for being gone for so long in terms of my writing. I still have one request that I need to get to, and, to the person that sent it, I’ll start working on that soon, I promise!! I’m just trying to find the right way to go about writing it. I have all the time in the world to think about it now because my province went back into complete lockdown as of this morning. So, uh... yeah. Expect another fic within maybe a week. GIF credit to intermissionpenguins!!

Warnings: I don’t even know if this is considered warnable but: the reader uses an insulin pump. So... yeah. I’ll just tell you about that just to be safe. There’s also a few brief mentions of alcohol. So, if you need to avoid that, feel free to just skip over the mention of it because it isn’t important at all, if I’m honest.

Word Count: 1.5k+

Title: I Do (Cherish You): Mark Wills

Additional: The reader is masculine this time!! He is described as having a beard and being a hockey player on the Flyers, so I hope that’s okay with you guys!! I made the reader masculine this time because someone sent me an ask this morning and told me they appreciated that I wrote masculine imagines and asked me if I would consider writing more. So, uh. Whoever you are, this is technically for you. I hope you and everyone else enjoy!

Stretching your arms above your head, you grunted when you felt your shoulder joints pop back into place. Nolan looked over from where he was sitting, smirking around his beer bottle as he took a drink.

"Woulda figured you'd be more accustomed to sitting in the same spot for a while," Nolan said, taking the opportunity to dig at the fact that you were a fourth-line player on the team.

You flipped Nolan off before drinking the last of your beer. You rubbed some sweat and condensation off your beard before you untucked your shirt and brought your hands down to your stomach.

"Fuck off, man," you mumbled half-heartedly, more focused on punching the correct numbers into your insulin pump.

"You kn--"

Nolan started speaking but anything he wanted to say was cut off by a succession of beeps coming from your stomach. Nolan quickly polished off his beer before standing from his chair and grabbing your empty beer bottle.

"Guess that means we need to go back." Nolan motioned his head down the dock in the direction of his cottage. "The refills are inside."

You frowned, standing from your chair and tucking your shirt back into your shorts in the process.

"We don't have to. I can just run inside, put one of them in, and come right back out."

Grabbing his phone, Nolan looked at the screen. He hummed before looking back at you as he slid the phone into his back pocket.

"True. But I'm hungry and it's close enough to dinner time."

Sighing, you scratched at your beard with one of your hands before holding them both up in surrender.

"Alright, alright. We can go to have dinner. I think there's still some fish left from what we caught yesterday."

Humming in appreciation, Nolan started making his way down the dock. You rolled your eyes, smirking and shaking your head before you followed after him.

About halfway up the walkway to the cottage, you saw that Nolan had stopped and was holding his hands up defensively. You approached carefully, placing a hand on Nolan's shoulder. Nolan jumped what you could've sworn was thirty-five feet out of his skin before he glared at you.

"Careful," Nolan hissed, slightly motioning his head in the direction of the cottage's outdoor garbage bin.

When you followed the motion, you froze and felt panic blooming throughout your body. A bear was rummaging around in the garbage. A rather substantially sized bear.

"Why is Chara in our garbage," you mumbled, grabbing Nolan's hand for comfort.

Nolan made no comment on the fact that you had grabbed onto his hand but he did glare at you, cracking a small smile. 

"Now isn't the time for jokes, idiot." However, he bumped shoulders with you to show that he appreciated it. "And, to answer your question, they're probably hungry."

You swallowed around a thick lump that had formed in your throat and, against your better judgement, dropped your head against Nolan’s shoulder. Nolan sighed and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. You swallowed around another thick lump, this one having nothing to do with the bear, as you breathed heavily out of your nose.

“That’s all well and good,” you said, pausing to swallow again, “they deserve to eat and all that. But I need more insulin if you want me to be functional.”

"Do you want me to…?" Nolan trailed off but you understood what he was trying to say.

You looked up at Nolan, furrowing your eyebrows and face twisting into a scowl.

"I'd rather you didn't," you said, plainly. "If you get mauled, what am I gonna do if I need help later?"

Nolan huffed, knocking shoulders with you again.

"I'm your best friend, (Y/N). Not your caregiver. While I would still gladly help if you asked because I care about you, you don't give yourself enough credit." 

You felt yourself short-circuit because Nolan had just said he cared about you. The rational part of your brain knew that he meant it in a friendly way. But the part of your brain that was winning this argument, the part you were listening to, was telling you that he meant it in a romantic way, the way you had wanted for what felt like an eternity.

"If your on-ice antics say anything, you know how to take care of yourself just fine."

Nolan continuing to speak drew you out of your fantasyland, forcing you to formulate an articulate sentence that didn’t involve you spilling your feelings for your best friend to said best friend.

"Defending my honour and staying alive are two very different things, sweetheart," you said.

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you realized what you had said. Your entire face felt hot, your beard suddenly feeling itchy from the newfound heat, and you felt embarrassed beyond belief. Not wanting to look at Nolan, you dropped your head against his chest to hide from his gaze.

"Yes, true. But you've managed to stay alive this long, haven't you?"

There was a long pause, the only noise coming from the bear that was still rummaging around in the garbage. You were worried that Nolan would think that you were starting to get sleepy from lack of insulin (which was actually true if he were to ask), so you mumbled softly against his chest, hoping he would hear you.

“Yeah…” Your voice sounding somewhat defeated. “I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for caring about me.”

Nolan lifted your head up and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Relief washed over you as you smiled, feeling tears in your eyes. After carefully placing the beer bottles on the ground, Nolan wrapped you in a hug. You sighed and got comfortable in Nolan’s embrace, figuring you’d be there for a while. 

You weren’t sure how long had passed when Nolan started carding his fingers through your hair and then your beard, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you back from his embrace. You blinked owlishly at Nolan, feeling somewhat bleary from the lack of insulin. Nolan squeezed your cheeks, tapping them a couple of times. You grunted, swatting at his shoulder with a playful smile on your face.

“Just wanted to make sure you were still with me,” Nolan said. You thought you detected some uncharacteristic concern in his voice but you were too out of it to process if that was true or not.

Nolan motioned his head toward the garbage bin. Your eyes slowly drifted over there, lighting up when you saw that the bear was gone..

“Yay! Chara is gone,” you said, voice somewhat quieter than normal. 

You yawned harshly, feeling your head start to swim. Looking up at Nolan, you patted him on the cheek.

"Let’s get inside before I pass out.”

Nodding, Nolan held your hand as you walked into the cottage. He sat you onto the couch and rushed into your bedroom to grab you a refill for your insulin pump. When he returned, he handed you the refill and sat down beside you.

It took a few tries to figure out because your hands were clumsy from being so tired but you managed to place the refill into the pump without any help from Nolan. Nolan ruffled your hair, placing a soft kiss on your cheek as you punched in the correct numbers to get the rest of the insulin you needed from earlier. It took a few minutes but you started to feel better, feel more awake. You flexed your hands, pleased that they didn’t feel like gelatin anymore. You blinked a few times, getting your eyes readjusted to being at full strength.

When you looked at Nolan, he looked up at you with a nervous smile. Instead of speaking, he moved closer to you and grabbed your hand, interlacing your fingers and placing your hands on his knee. You glanced down at his knee and then up at him, seeing the tentative look in his eye. You nodded because you were fairly certain you knew what he wanted. Your theory was proven right when Nolan leaned forward and connected your lips, cupping your jaw with his free hand. Smiling into the kiss, you brought your free hand up and grabbed the collar of Nolan’s shirt, tugging him in closer. Nolan grunted, mouth falling open as he continued to kiss you. You took that opportunity to experimentally slide your tongue into Nolan’s mouth. Nolan groaned, pulling back from the kiss. You swallowed thickly when you saw the beard burn your kiss had left behind. 

Nolan twisted on the couch, dropping his head against your shoulder. You slung your arm around his back, pulling him in as close as you could. Nolan hummed, bringing his arm around your shoulders.

“About what you said earlier…” Nolan looked up at you, eyes unreadable.

“Look, I…” You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that the couch would swallow you whole. “I was starting to go loopy from lack of insulin. It doesn’t mean anything. It never does when I get like that.”

Nolan looked up at you with a sideways glance, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“You and I both know that that’s bullshit. You say some of the most truthful shit on the rare chance that you get like that.”

Slouching your shoulders, you sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Worth a shot, I guess.”

“There’s no need to get down on yourself or feel bad,” Nolan said, looking at you softly. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

[whindsor]

since you reached your word count, can we maybe get a sneak peak of your story?

aaaaaaah sure!!!! this is like, the inciting incident.

it’s also SUPER unedited so like. don’t just me please.

Ellex pulled on her best clothes, her best leathers, and did everything she could to make her seem like she was maybe supposed to be there.

There was still no sign of the King, though there was technically the possibility that he had arrived with out any pomp or circumstance, which seemed unlikely. She still couldn’t shake the vague sense of foreboding; she almost felt like someone was aiming a bow at the spot between her shoulder blades, her back tingling with anticipation of danger or pain. Things were coming to a head, and she had a feeling she was about to find out something terrible.

Axel knocked on her door, surprisingly respectful compared to that morning. She wrenched it open, her hand gripping the handle tightly. He gave her body a once over in a completely clinical way, assessing her dress for the supper.

“That’s the best you brought?” he asked.

“This is the best I own, and you know that,” she said, feeling extra prickly. What did he expect?

“I know you own a dress. Maybe even two,” he said, tilting his head to look into her rooms as if said dresses were going to magically appear there.

“I’ll be in a room full of the best warriors in the country, do you think I’m going to limit myself by wearing a dress?” she asked, pushing past him into the hallway.

“What about your ceremonial braids?” he countered, making her pause.

“There’s no need for those-“

“You’re meeting the King, now is the best time for them-“

“He wouldn’t get them anyway-“

“You’re not even wearing a dress, you should wear your braids-“

“I can’t do them!”

“…What?” Axel, for some reason, was surprised by this fact. “What do you mean you can’t do them?”

“My mother or Xera always did my braids for me,” she explained, trying and failing not to sound like a sad child. “I could never get my hands to work right, so they took pity on me and did them for me.”

“I can’t believe you can’t do your own braids,” he did sound genuinely impressed, but not in a good way.

“I’m sorry, can you do them?” she asked, hands on hips and anger hot in her tone. First he insulted her clothing, and now he was insulting her hair braiding skills. He was already making this trip infinitely more difficult than it needed to be, did he really have to be like this too?

“Well I-“

“That’s what I thought. C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” she said, turning on her heel and walking towards the front hall. They weren’t to eat in the normal dining room tonight, but instead in the Great Hall somewhere on the upper level of the castle. The servants waited for them in the front hall, leading them up the massive staircase to the upper levels and into a huge room.

If she thought the dining room or the library were big, she was not ready for the Great Hall. This Hall was used for anything from banquets to weddings to matters of the state, the decorations and lamps transformed with each meeting. Now eight rectangular tables were set up in a circle, a perfect octagon with the head table up on a dais at the front of the room. The King would not sit on his throne, but it was stationed right behind his table, in full view just in case anyone forgot who he was. Already Felda and Gable sat at their table, as well as Barta and Ilane and Ink and Kala. Ellex was glad they’d found the happy medium between being the first and last to arrive. She swiveled her head, looking for Mara the mysterious and bratty heir from the desert, but she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Ellex hadn’t seen her at all that day, and wondered if her arrival hadn’t just been some weird fever dream.

“This way, Miss,” the servant said, leading her and Axel to their table. It was just adjacent to the door, which she didn’t like. Having her back to the only entrance in the room was less than favorable. So of course she moved so that Axel was closest to it, so that he could be the first to die - or, make an attack, if that was an option.

The heirs eyed each other from their seats, but no one felt confident enough to say anything. Ink was still sketching away in his sketchbook, his eyes flitting up to Ellex every so often. She wondered if he was making a new picture of her, or just perfecting the one from earlier. Either way, she had to stop herself from grabbing the book and tossing it into the nearest fire.

Fort and Lave entered with a loud, low whistle. Fort was apparently impressed by their new eating arrangements, and expressed as such loudly and with forced casualness. “I think this is the size of the whole house back home,” he said, nudging Lave in the ribs. “Maybe even my first ship.”

“Was more of a boat than a ship,” Lave murmured quietly, just loud enough that Ellex could hear it as they walked by. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing, sending a conspiratorial look towards Lave. She wondered if, being Fort’s second, he ever got tired of dealing with the other man’s antics. She also wondered if Fort ever turned those antics down, or even off. It seemed unlikely.

“So, our host still has yet to arrive?” Fort asked loudly, and again Ellex had to keep herself from replying. Of course the King wasn’t there. What other comment did he need on it? Luckily, they were all saved from the discomfort of the moment by Murette and Alsatia making their entrance. Both of the women looked beautiful in traditional forest garb; most of the country was focused on warriors and their strength, but in the forest they were more about skills and assets - the very definition of work smart, not hard, which was important when there were a shit ton of trees that one could run into when making an advance - or an escape. So instead of leathers and armor, they had on tunics and skirts made of wide leather strips, the pointed ends covered in silver. In a battle they’d probably wear breeches underneath, but here they left their legs and arms bare, thin silver-green lines lacing over their limbs in elaborate fake tattoos.

In short, they looked like iridescent forest nymphs and Ellex was supremely jealous.

“Wow, this is amazing,” Murette said, gazing up at the ceiling a million feet above them. There were slats open to show the night sky, though the lamps from inside drowned out any starlight.

“Eyes on the road,” Alsatia reminded her, touching her elbow lightly. She easily sidestepped the table she was about to run into, going to her designated seat.

“I thought we were running late, but apparently we’re right on time,” she said. When they’d dined together before, Ellex assumed her dreamy voice was due to her taking of libations, but it seemed like that was just how she spoke all the time. She didn’t mind it.

“Early, even,” Alsatia agreed, adjusting her quiver ever so slightly as she sat. Ellex still thought it odd that they dined with their weapons donned, but she was not about to be the only one to remove them. She wondered if the other provinces had similar traditions, but they all just pretended they didn’t, just so they wouldn’t be the odd man out. She’d have to ask some of them later. Now the only ones they were waiting on were Mara - who no one else knew was present in the castle - and the King himself, who was still currently absent without official leave.

The clock tower outside, which had been previously dormant, sang out the hour, the peals of the bells cutting through the wide windows that were thrown open to let in the sweet night air. Seventh hour, the hour they were told to come. The door opened once more and they all turned expectantly, wondering if the King was finally gracing them with his presence. Instead, the hooded desert heir slipped inside, her head bowed as she crossed the threshold. Her dusty robes whispered behind her as she followed the servant to her table, and behind that her great sand-colored dog walked with casual grace. Mara removed her hood and sat, the dog claiming the space on the floor next to her.

“Well, seems the wildwitch decided to join us after all,” Fort said. Ellex thought Mara would bristle at the name, but her dark eyes showed no emotion.

“I was summoned, just as you were,” she replied. Her voice was quiet, but somehow carried easily through the space. Fort, not knowing how to respond to such directness, faltered just long enough for Ink to get a word in.

“I have heard amazing things about the libraries in the desert,” he said. He seemed glad that his table was right next to hers, even leaning over Kala so that he could speak to Mara better. “Would you be willing to tell me about it?”

“I will tell you anything you want to know,” Mara agreed, and Ellex wondered if everyone else heard the edge to her voice, or if she was the only one. Everyone else’s magic, which had previously been simmering just below the surface, spiked now that Mara was here. Ellex became even more uncomfortable, caught in the crossfire between Mara and the rest of the airs, all of their magic poking and trying.

“What’s a wildwitch?” she asked Axel, keeping her voice as low as possible. She did not need a glare from Mara, or condescension from everyone else.

“In the desert, they practice a different form of magic, more elemental in nature,” he explained. Now it made sense, why hers felt so incredibly different compared to everyone else’s. “But it’s also more difficult to control, and there has to be a certain amount of…feral energy to work it. Hench, wildwitch.”

“She doesn’t seem to like the name,” Ellex continued.

“For a long time, before magic was wider spread, the wildwitches were seen as troublemakers, dangerous,” he said. He glanced over at Mara, alone at her table with no second beside her. Despite all her apparent shortcomings, she had a regal poise about her that Ellex found impressive. “They still are.”

“She doesn’t seem that dangerous,” Ellex said. “She doesn’t have any weapons.”

“The wildwitches don’t need weapons,” Axel said darkly. “You’d do best to stay away from her. I mean it.”

“I’ve been trying to stay away from everyone,” she bit back, realizing halfway through that she was speaking a touch too loud and softening her voice. “You’re the one who keeps trying to make me socialize.”

“I’m trying to make you learn, not socialize,” he countered, once again his patience wearing thin. He used to be able to handle her shenanigans, but his fuse was getting shorter and shorter. Ellex probably shouldn’t feel proud of that fact, but she was. “You’d realize that, if you listened to a word I said.”

“Sounds boring,” she replied, turning to her cup. Another bell rang, this one deep in the kitchens, and the doors opened once again. Once again, no King was in sight, but there was something even better: food.

Like the night before, the food came out in courses, starting with greens and soup and working towards heavier portions. Ellex didn’t mean to eat as much as she did, but she also didn’t have any regrets about it. As supper continued on, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate; everyone figured that, like the nights before, the King would not come tonight.

They would be wrong.

The servants were handing out dessert whenever it happened. The door to the Great Hall slammed open, as if a boot hit it from the other side. The King’s second strolled in first, hands on his belt. He was dirty, as if they’d come straight from the road. He stepped to the side, looking at each of them in turn for a long, painful moment.

“All rise for King Antyus.” For a small man, his voice carried brilliantly, though the shape of the room probably helped that. The heirs and seconds - some of which had taken a little too much in their cups - stumbled to their feet, wondering if they were to bow or to step to meet him or to drop to their knees.

The King took his time making his entrance, his spurs jingling with each step he took and the massive room amplifying the sound. His thumbs were tucked into his belt, and he absolutely ambled across the room, welcoming the silence and the awe. He was not a man of great stature, but he carried himself so that he appeared more formidable. Everything from his boots to his leathers to the sword at his waist spoke of his station. He was also old - older than Axel, older than Ellex’s father. Hell, he might have been older than her grandfather, she couldn’t quite tell. But there was still a spring in his step and a glint in his eye as he met each and every one of theirs.

Ellex noticed he was not wearing the crown.

Wasn’t the King supposed to always wear the crown?

He was wearing it in his portrait.

Where was it now?

Find the crown. And claim it.

The words came to her, apparently the only thing she managed to retain from her late night reading. That was the significance of the crown - the King was not chosen, or assigned, or elected. The King had to beat all their rivals to find the crown. It was so simple, the first lesson they learned in school. How could she have forgotten?

And how in the hell was she going to get out of this?

“Now, now,” the King drawled, his accent smooth but his voice gravelly with age. He gestured to everyone as if he’d been there all along. “Don’t stop the celebrations on my account.”

“Your Majesty,” Fort was the first to bow, Lave following a breath later. Ink and Kala bowed as well, while Murette and Alsatia dipped into low curtseys. Barta and Ilane crossed a fist over their chest in their own salute, and Felda and Gable of the Plains held their hands to their foreheads in theirs. Only Mara stayed fully upright, hands clasped in front of her.

“Ellex,” Axel hissed from somewhere below her. She broke from her trance to find him down on one knee, their typical sign of respect. She quickly dropped next to him, hoping the King hadn’t noticed how long it took her. Her head was reeling; soon, there would be a race to find the crown. That had to be why the King invited them all here, why he made sure the heirs brought a second.

He was retiring. And one of them would take up the crown after him.

“Return to your seat,” he said, sinking down into his own chair. His joints cracked a few times as he did so, the sound amplified in the silence of the Hall. “I’ve been told it’s time for dessert.”

“Your Majesty?” Ink spoke up this time, and the King looked up with a serene face and raised eyebrows, curious as to what he wanted.

“Yes, Cornelius?” he prompted, using Ink’s given name. Ink’s magic pulsed at the sound of it, but whether it was due to excitement or fear Ellex wasn’t sure.

“I…” Ink had spoken up, but then was unsure what to say. “How was your journey?”

This was apparently the right thing to ask, as the King grinned broadly. “Quite adventurous, thank you for asking,” he said. Once again he gestured at the chairs, and they all sat as one, school kids afraid of the master.

“Where did you go?” Fort asked, trying to gain an upper hand in the conversation. The others seemed to notice this, sitting up a little straighter and preparing what they were to say. Ellex, for her part, wondered if she would remain unnoticed if she sat super still.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the King answered, his grin turning cryptic as he reached out and grabbed his glass. He took a slow sip of the wine, his eyes never leaving Fort.

“I suppose I would, yes,” Fort said, his eyes glancing obviously towards the top of the King’s head, which was covered with thick, white hair but no sign of a crown. The King sighed, shaking his head.

“Very well, I guess we’ll address the elephant in the room. Though I really planned to get through dessert first,” he said, genuinely sad not to partake in the apple pie in front of him. Ellex hadn’t even noticed the servants bring the plates in, and while normally she would be ecstatic to try yet another new dessert, the thought of eating anything made her feel even more sick than she already did. “You’re probably all wondering why I gathered you here.”

“Always to your will, King,” Murette said, moving her arms as though she was curtsying again, though she stayed sitting in her chair. His smile was less genuine this time, and he gave her a placating nod.

“Right. As it were, I am currently only acting King,” he said, stressing the extra monicker. He ran a gnarled hand through his white hair, the gold of his rings glinting in the low light of the Hall. “As you can see, I’ve returned from my journey a day late and a crown short. As it were, the next ruler is sitting here in this room. Right now.”

Fort shot to his feet, Lave not far behind. They looked like they were going to make their way to the doors, but they closed heavily before they could take another step, the sound of the plank sliding home hitting each of them. They were now locked in the Great Hall.

“I still expect the same level of respect, young Fort,” the King said, his eyes icy as he settled them on the coastal boys again. “There will be plenty of time for you to go on your hunt. But for now, my journey was long, and I would like to get to know you.”

“Apologies, my King,” Fort said, for once looking embarrassed and bowing his head like a chastised child. He returned to his seat, his heel bouncing as he sat down again.

“Apology accepted. Now,” he looked at them each again, and Ellex felt her blood run cold as his sights set on her. “You, my dear, are not the original intended recipient of my invitation.”

“No, my King,” she said, her voice shaky even to her own ears. “My sister, Xera, fell in battle against raiders three months ago. I am here in her stead.”

“Interesting,” the King said, moving on immediately. Mara was his next target. “Ah, a priest from the desert. I’ll confess, I am surprised to see you here. We’ve not had visitors from the desert in quite some time.”

“Apologies, my King,” Mara said, though somehow she didn’t seem to hold the same reverence that the others did. She looked right at the King, as though she were addressing an equal rather than the ruler of the land. “I’m afraid my people are less than social.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he said, and if the comment offended Mara, she didn’t show it. Maybe she was actually a robot with a human face, and that’s why she didn’t have any emotions. But then, how would she have the insane amount of magic? “I noticed you have no second.”

“Oe is my second,” she said, and it took Ellex a moment to realize she was talking about the dog. At the sound of her name, Oe looked up at Mara, waiting for a command. When none was given, she laid her head back down on the tiles. The King cocked his head to the side, staring at the dog for a long moment before letting out a single laugh. A moment later he laughed again, then busted out into a full blown hysteric attack.

“The dog is your second. Right,” he said, still chuckling. A few of the other heirs started laughing with him, a few of those few even looking like they meant it. Axel even let out a low chuckle next to her, immediately stopping when she looked his way. She didn’t understand what was so funny; if she’d had her way, Andalus would’ve been her second instead of Axel. Every day she felt that more and more. She thought to speak up, to say something on her behalf, until she glanced at the woman in question.

Mara, for her part, kept her head high and her eyes clearly on the King. Ellex would have thrown at least a comment or two his direction, or towards the other heirs, but Mara kept her lips firmly sealed, apparently too good to give into such banal tendencies as sticking up for herself. Ellex rolled her eyes; the woman didn’t need her help. She was doing just fine on her own.

“Well what’s next?” King Antyus asked, taking another languid sip of his drink. He leaned into his chair, not touching the dessert in front of him. “Is someone hiding a litter of kittens in their scabbard?”

Another titter of laughter curdled through the Great Hall, but it felt even more forced than the first. Everyone’s magic flexed and curled in their discomfort, threatening to choke Ellex. She hated it here. She hated seeing these stuck up heirs with their attitudes, she hated how vaguely threatening the King seemed to be, and she hated being the only one that didn’t have a magical weapon. She wasn’t made for this, and therefore was constantly sitting at a disadvantage. It was not a feeling that sat well with her.

She picked at her fruit pie, though the sweet crust and tender fruit did nothing to improve her mood. She didn’t bother paying attention to Barta and Ilane telling tales of the beasts they’d hunted in the mountains, or listen to Murette and Alsatia as they made thinly veiled flirts towards the King. Fort interjected any chance he got, trying to pull the attention back to him. They were all trying to make a good impression, to show that they should be the next King.

As if he was going to offer them some hint to where the crown was.

As if he had any say on who was next.

Part of Ellex was so mad at the situation, so frustrated by all these people who thought they would be the next best ruler, that for a moment she was inspired to go out and find the crown herself. After all, why shouldn’t she? She was an heir, just like them. And perhaps, being different than everyone else would make her a better ruler. Sure, she’d never ruled over anything, and she’d been groomed her whole life to be a second. But maybe that’s what the country needed: something different.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering exactly where this is going,” the King said. He’d been through a few glasses now, as had most of the people around him. Everyone sobered up instantly, sitting forward as if that would help them hear better. Ellex wanted to cover her ears, but this was the King speaking, and if he was giving any sort of clue…well, even if she wasn’t sure on her plan yet, she still needed all the information he could spare. “As you can see, I’m missing a certain accessory that I tend to wear…most of the time.

“I am, unfortunately, getting a little on in years. And while my mind is sharp, I won’t make the same mistake that my predecessor did, waiting until his second had to hide the crown for him. And his second wasn’t half the man mine is, so,” he waved his hand lazily, as if this meant something to them. Did he mean to imply that the man wasn’t good at hiding, or that he was easy to get the location from. “One of you - whomever finds my crown - will be the next ruler. The search begins tomorrow morning.”

“Must we wait, Your Grace?” Fort asked. His words, usually laced with confidence, were slow and measured, as if he were making sure he was saying them correctly. Was he drunk? Ellex flicked her eyes over to him, and it took a moment for her vision to catch up with the motion. Wait, was she drunk? She’d only had the one glass. The King smiled, and in the haze of the night, it looked menacing.

“You must,” he said, holding up his glass. “A toast. To the next King.”

“To the next King.” The words were a hum as they all tried to match his pitch. Ellex felt like her own tongue was sluggish and thick. She took a sip from her cup and ended up drinking deeply, the wine sweet and light. She didn’t even like wine. When she put the cup down, time seemed to slow down. Next to her, Axel groaned, putting his head into his hands. Across the room, Murette slumped into Alsatia, who didn’t look any steadier as she leaned heavily onto the table. Fort tried to stand and ended up crashing to the floor, Mara’s dog pushing quickly to her feet at the sudden noise. Mara was gripping the edge of the table, gritting her teeth as if she was holding back a cry of pain. Was she in pain? No one else seemed to be. Ellex certainly wasn’t. She was just tired. So very tired.

The other heirs were laying their heads down. Axel was snoring softly, his head tucked into his arms like a child. The King stood, his steps sounding far away as he strolled back to the door. The sound of his spurs clinking was soothing to her, lulling her further. He stopped between her and Mara, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

“Good luck. Don’t miss the forest for the trees,” he teased, continuing on past them. Ellex met Mara’s eyes, both of them struggling to keep them open. What did the King mean by that?

She could still hear his spurs as he walked away, the sound steadily retreating. Whatever he meant, she could figure it out in the morning. For now, she needed to sleep.

[chaotic-bells]

50 questions you’ve never been asked.

Yey! Thanks @ijustkeepondancing​ for the tag! It’s currently 4AM and I can’t sleep, so this is great.

1. what is the colour of your hairbrush? Black

2. a food you never eat? I love fish, but I almost never eat it, mostly because I still haven’t found a good place to buy that’s close to my house, and I’ll be honest... I miss Brazilian river fish. Kind of tired of the eternal cod/hake/salmon that’s pretty much everywhere in Ireland. Now, if you’re asking about what I never eat because I hate it... rhubarb comes to mind. Or anything that’s too bitter. Oh, also anything that’s too spicy. I don’t mind pepper - as long as you can taste the other flavors in the food. If it’s too hot it kind of ruins the whole thing. (I’m passionate about food. I could go on, seriously)

3. are you typically too warm or too cold?  I usually run too warm, and I love the cold, so I am the weirdo at the office that has a usb chargeable mini fan turned on during winter.

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? sleeping. Then i woke up because my allergy decided to act up and now i can’t sleep again. it’s 4AM. This tag game saved my night from tossing and turning, so thanks.

5. what is your favourite candy bar? Snickers.

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? yeah. not my thing.

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? “Meu princepezinho” (my little prince in portuguese). To my cat. In an annoying baby voice. While I covered him in kisses. Yeah, I’m one of those. To my defense, he likes it and kisses back (he pushes his face against my cheek) and turns belly up while purring. You try to resist him.

8. what is your favourite ice cream? Strawberry, at least for now. Love mint choc chip, or cherry.

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? Water

10. do you like your wallet? ooh yeah. It’s this one from Killstar, that my friends gave me for my 30th birthday. I love it.

11. what was the last thing you ate? Dinner - I made steak, sauteed mushrooms and roast potato. It was delicious.

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? nope. i haven’t bough clothes since mid January. 

13. the last sporting event you watched? the virtual F1 Liam participated. I was gonna watch anyway cause F1 is probably the only sport I watch, but I thought it was such a fun idea since everything was cancelled. And then I saw Liam was in it and I got really excited for him! 

14. what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? If freshly popped, butter with a dash of tabasco, if store bought, sweet and salty.

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? Does whatsapp count? My friend, with a link for the Secret Celebrity RPDR teaser. She is addicted to RPDR, and I am extremely curious about which celebrities will be in drag. I think it can be fun.

16. ever go camping? Probably. Can’t remember.

17. do you take vitamins? No

18. do you go to church every sunday? No

19. do you have a tan? No. I try to stay away from the sun as much as I can.

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza? Pizza

21. do you drink your soda with a straw? No

22. what colour socks do you usually wear? Black.

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? I don’t drive

24. what terrifies you? Ocean and heights

25. look to your left, what do you see? Bedside table and my makeup desk which is currently transformed as my temporary office.

26. what chore do you hate? Cleaning - just everything about it. However, I am very allergic to dust mite (hence being up at 4AM, almost 5 now), and I have to constantly clean everything.

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? well, depends on what they’re saying. lol

28. what’s your favourite soda? any lemon/lime ones like Sprite or 7Up.

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? I don’t drive, so drive-thru is not really an option.

30. who’s the last person you talked to? My ex-husband (we live together)

31. favourite cut of beef? Picanha.

32. last song you listened to? Juke Joint Blues, by Justin Johnson. If you like blues, check him out on YouTube. One of my favorite guitar players. He’s so good.

33. last book you read? Uh, it’s actually been a while. I think it was The Rosary Girls (Richard Montanari)?

34. favourite day of the week? Don’t really have one

35. can you say the alphabet backwards? I can barely say it the right way. I definitely need to go over the whole thing if I want to remember the order of certain letters (like if I’m looking into something that’s ordered alphabetically, I need to go... KLMNOP - ok, so O is before). *shrugs*

36. how do you like your coffee? cold and sweet

37. favourite pair of shoes? my glitter wedge. it’s multicolored glitter, so it’s like a freaking rainbow. (these are the exact ones. It’s from Asos, but I think they stopped selling it).

38. at what time do you normally go to bed? Usually midnight or 1AM

39. at what time do you normally get up? 07:30

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? Sunrise - not the rise itself, but that half an hour just before it gets bright that still feels it’s night.

41. how many blankets are on your bed? 2.

42. describe your kitchen plates. Really? White, round. No border.

43. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? Depends on my mood. Probably tequila.

44. do you play cards? Yes

45. what colour is your car? White and red. Looks like this:

46. can you change a tire? Despite the fact that I don’t drive - yes. That’s been tested when I was on the road with my boss at 3AM and she was driving like a lunatic in a road that was more holes than actual road and she destroyed the tire and made me change it.

47. what is your favourite province? Province? Where?

48. favourite job you’ve ever had? My current one - IT

49. how did you get your biggest scar? I don’t have many anymore. I used to have a pretty big one on my leg. My grandmother was lifting something, there was a piece of glass stuck to the bottom of it and it fell straight into my leg when she walked close to me. The scar was like... 15cm long, but it disappeared as I grew older. 

50. what did you do today that made someone else happy? Does work count? I brought a hotel’s website back to life. Client was very happy.

This is a pretty long game, so I’ll just tag @whatagreatproblemtohave​ but please feel free to jump in and answer these if you think you’ll have fun!!

[classicdaisycalico]

"We'll figure this out" for luigi/Daisy

Angst/fluff Prompt List

Okay so some brief Italian lessons before we begin:

Castello di Flora = translates to “Flora’s Castle” (lit. “Castle of Flora”)Un colpo di fulmine = colloquialism for “love at first sight” (lit. “a lightning bolt”)

Luigi and Daisy, “We’ll Figure This Out”

***

Between fleeing the country in the aftermath of Tatanga’s invasion and staying in the Mushroom Kingdom during her citizens’ recovery efforts, Princess Daisy was initially very homesick. She missed the scorching western desert heat of Birabuto, the peaceful southern beaches of Muda, the rolling hills and rocky cliffs of Easton, and the blistering northern mountain winds of Chai. She missed her parents, and she missed their home, which ended up being destroyed during the attacks.

Now, after a fair amount of time, she had been arranged to meet them at their new residence, the historic Castello di Flora. As its name implied, the castle was once the residence of Daisy’s distant ancestor from several centuries ago, a queen named Flora who reigned over a newly unified Easton.

For Daisy, returning to Sarasaland should have been exciting. Now, there was a new issue: she hadn’t counted on how much it would hurt leaving the Mushroom Kingdom.

She hadn’t been back in years, and wanted to explore every inch of how much Toad Town and its surrounding neighborhoods had changed since her last visit. It had been Peach’s idea first, and Mario was more than happy to bring her there, the latter of whom she ended up striking a very good friendship with. Peach, in the meantime, was ecstatic to host her sister-in-arms again, and Daisy was just as thrilled to stay with her during that time.

Then, of course, there was Luigi, a completely unexpected surprise. She hadn’t arrived to the Mushroom Kingdom looking for love, but a chance encounter with the young plumber outside of Peach’s castle was all it took. That encounter early in the afternoon turned into an unofficial first date, followed up by an official second the day after. Following that came a bouquet of flowers at her doorstep and a dance in the rain that subsequently lead to their first kiss. They were exclusive ever since.

It was now the evening before Daisy was scheduled to leave. The two of them were sitting at the top of a hill providing a beautiful view of the Mushroom City skyline, a callback to the end of their aforementioned first date. That evening, they stayed out to watch the sun set and for the first of the stars to appear before returning home. Sitting next to him, hand in hand, gave her plenty of time for reflection as the hours ticked away.

Truth be told, the princess was not one to dwell on the notion of love at first sight, she hadn’t expected that sort of thing to happen to her. In fact, she was almost repulsed by the idea, given her history with Tatanga and several other self-centered sons of prominent government officials vying for her affections in the past. Now that she had experienced it for herself, however, the thought nearly frightened her.

Suddenly she understood why love at first sight was so rare to come by: whenever it happened, everything surrounding love was far more intense than normal. Sparks didn’t fly, but fireworks did. First dates, which were usually planned at least a day in advance, were now completely rushed and on-the-fly, often operating on a wing and a prayer. And forget about pre-kiss tension; it didn’t exist in the event of, as Luigi described it in his native Italian, a lightning bolt.

Un colpo di fulmine, it was called. At least that saying was a little bit more reassuring. It meant that love could be found from looking at somebody either one time or one thousand times. Conversely, “love at first sight” was just that: the first sight, and there was so much pressure for everything else after that to be just as perfect.

But that was the problem. Nothing was ever truly perfect.

She sighed sadly, earning the attention of the green-clad young man next to her. “Is something wrong?”

How could she answer with so much running through her mind all at once? The princess instead looked out into the horizon. “...There’s just so much to unpack,” she said, hesitantly.

A corner of his mouth ticked upward in a faint smile. “Unpack? I thought that was for AFTER you get home, not before.”

The princess couldn’t help but giggle. Leave it to Luigi to make her laugh, no matter how corny the joke. Still, it wasn’t enough to diffuse her sour mood, and the plumber was quick to catch on. “I’m serious. What is it?”

Again, she let out a melancholy sigh, unable to ignore the elephant in the room any longer. “It’s the fact that I’m literally leaving tomorrow morning,” she answered. “I never had any real friends in Sarasaland. Coming here and being with Peach and everybody else made me the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Now that I’m going back home, it’s gonna feel like everything I’ve ever built up in the Mushroom Kingdom will disappear in the blink of an eye.”

He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to forget this.” She gestured outward with her free hand. “The memories, the friendships...everything. I guess I’m just afraid everybody else will, eventually.”

It really hurt Luigi to see the princess like this. Still, seeing this normally cheerful and optimistic lady in such a somber mood brought to mind similar fears of his own, fears of being left alone or forgotten, left in the dust.

Thankfully, Mario always gave him some good advice to curb these doubts. “You’ve known Peach for...how long?”

“Since before I could even remember. The both of us were probably still teething when we first met.”

“Well, she wouldn’t forget you, would she? Not after the two of you have been such good friends your whole lives.”

“I know Peach would remember. But what about Mario?”

“He’ll remember Sarasaland for days to come,” the plumber replied. “I hear him say every day that he wants to go back again...when there’s been enough recovery, obviously.”

“Well...” she began, “it would definitely explain all the questions he had about the provinces. And their history. And their cultures. And their people. And their creatures...”

“The list goes on. There’s no way he’ll forget. Not for a long time.”

“Yeah.”

Her eyebrows suddenly furrowed in thought. “And then, of course...there’s one more person.”

“Oh?”

“Someone special...” Daisy mused. “He’s really quiet before you get to know him. And shy. PAINFULLY shy. But underneath it all is a guy who’s as kind, honest, and sweet as anyone could ever be.”

She laced his fingers through his. “He’s not afraid to be sensitive or emotional. And in my opinion, that’s the bravest thing any guy can do.”

The princess saw Luigi nervously scratching the back of his head, knowing full well he was catching on to what she was saying. “He’s also extremely handsome, especially in green.”

And there it was, a twinge of red in his cheeks. “Stop that,” he laughed, trying not to stutter over his words. “I’ve heard enough.”

“But YOU won’t forget, will you?”

He sat there for a moment, looking at her, eventually letting his hand brush away a stubborn strand of hair threatening to obscure his view of her bright green eyes. “Why would I ever want to?”

He let his fingers lightly trace over the outline of her face before letting his hand rest over her cheek. “You’re my lightning bolt.”

Her own hand reached up and held on to his. In moments like these, rather than say anything back, she let the words linger, so she could take in their meaning. In the time she had known Luigi, she knew he was not much of a talker, but when he was, he never minced his words. Everything he said carried depth, and lots of it. This was no exception.

She closed the gap between them and kissed him. It was nothing like their first kiss on that rainy evening; there was no desperation, no awkwardness, no bottled-up feelings to resolve. It was simply a small show of affection she knew he’d appreciate.

The way he slowly found the courage to kiss her back let her know she was right.

After letting it linger for a few seconds, they pulled back, his hand still cupping her face gently. “Will you write, at least?”

“I don’t know how often...”

She wrapped an arm around him and drew him in for a hug, her head now resting snugly against his chest. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

[fragiledewdrop]

High school Newspaper Shenanigans

I don't have a lot of good memories about high school, but today I found a dusty copy of what passed for a "newspaper" in my school and it brought me back to when I was 16.

The girl who had been running the school newspaper for as long as I could remember was graduating that year, so she had to prepare for the final exam and university and she did not have time to edit anymore. My friends B., C., and I, in what was probably a fit of madness, decided to try our hand at it. And so I found myself co-editor of a newspaper. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but it would be one hell of an adventure.

The paper was called "Up!", after the Disney movie, for...some very creative reason I cannot remember. The first thing we did was change the title to "Up patriots to arms!"

One of the first things we had to cover was a very important, popular, yearly student strike,which would have been fairly easy, if not for the freaking tension between the two student organizations in our city. The biggest one, the "Rete" , was basically left wing - although many people didn't know or care about their affiliations- and they constantly butted heads with the student block, a group of self proclaimed neofascists who dressed in all black, used smoke bombs during protests and were always surrounded by the police.

We decided it would be a grand idea to interview the respective leaders to get both opinions on the matter.

The president of the "Rete" came to meet us after school. The highlight of the interview was when he said that his was a "non political organization", at which point we looked at each other in disbelief and asked him:"Really?"

The answer was "Yeas, although of course many of us are registered in different parties along the whole spectrum, such as..." and he started listing all left wing parties in the country, from communists to centrists, because apparently that's what he meant by "variety". Anyway.

It was time to interview the leader of the Block. He told us to wait in a square until someone would come get us.

B. and I were getting very nervous.

A guy with a shaved head and a black leather jacket came towards us. "You the journalists? Follow me"

We followed him to the lair. I mean headquarters.

(By the way, we realized we knew this guy. He was a lamb. I had no clue what he was doing there.)

The headquarters' walls were legit covered in swastikas and pictures of Mussolini. Yikes.

The leader was also very nice. Didn't stop me wanting to throttle him when he said that poor Mussolini was just misunderstood.

I had to ACTUALLY stop B. from doing something rash. No picking fights with the fascist dudes in he fascists's lair, please.

They straight up told us, I shit you not, that they were a brotherhood and, as a very effective bonding experience, they put on music and danced in a circle while whipping each other with leather belts. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. Maybe they were, but it didn't seem so. That didn't make it into the article, but it's forever etched into my brain.

I was shaken, but the double interview turned out great. #journalism

A while later we were sitting at a school assembly in the local movie theater. Everybody was complaining about the fact that our gym's roof had collapsed the year before and nobody was doing anything about it. We were taking the bus every week to a public gym, but we had to pay for it and were Officially Not Happy About It.

It was then that B. went : "You know what would be great? If we could interview the mayor about this"

I lit up. "Oh my god! We could ask him so many things! And not just about our school, but about the Linguistic High school that had to be evacuated and about [all the other schools that were literally falling to pieces. You know, Italian things]"

But the consensus was that, while we could try, it would be almost impossible for us to get an interview. So we sighed and sat back.

C.cleared her throat. "Guys." "Yes?" "You know how the mayor is a lawyer?" ".... Yes?" "Well, my dad is a lawyer. He knows him."

We dragged her to the bathroom

"We are not leaving here until your dad gets us an appointment" (poor guy)

He did

For that same night. At the town hall. At 8 pm.

We cleared our afternoon to come up with pertinent questions and practice and freak out.

At 8 we were at the town hall.

There was a red banner on the balcony with a slogan on it, that would be there for months afterwards, because...

... that same night a group of workers had occupied the town hall to demand better pay and better working conditions

Good for them

Bad for us

We were about to leave, but they assured us the mayor would be with us shortly

We waited three whole hours

During which, obviously, an old council member came to talk to us about how, if we wanted to do some real journalism, we should investigate the presence of the Illuminati in our town

Not gonna lie, we were kinda interested at that point

Around 11, the mayor called us in

I am going to concede that he must have been tired

But he was still a slimy son of a bitch

Extremely condescending

When we brought up our problems, he told us our schools were the Province's responsibility

(the Province would of course later tell us we were the Mayor's responsibility)

It was a train wreck

But eye opening

The article we wrote was extremely passive aggressive

He told C.'s father that he really liked it

I don't know if he was impermeable to sarcasm or just a politician.

Fast forward a few months. While our math teacher was talking, a giant piece of plaster fell from the ceiling, missed her by millimeters and crashed on the floor. We went on, business as usual, but that was kinda scary. And it was not the first incident of that kind to happen in our school.

We decided to do a reportage

Armed with notebooks and a camera, we went from classroom to classroom, asking students and teachers about problems with the building.

It was like opening a can of worms.

We got everything from "Oh yes, don't you see those huge holes in the ceiling and in the floor?" to "Yes, every time it rains the classroom gets flooded" to "See this giant wooden piece of tent rod? It fell on my shoulder last week. We don’t even have tents!"

Everyone had something to complain about. The teachers. The janitors. It was scary, to be honest. Especially considering we were repeatedly told ours was the safest school structure in town (what with having been standing since the end of WWI and all)

One day, while we were trying to get on the roof to evaluate its conditions, the headmistress called us in her office.

She said that she had gotten wind of what we were doing (duh)

And she hoped that we wouldn't give a bad impression of her "to parents and important people"

Because after all her hands were tied

It was the responsibility of the Mayor and the Province

(Just who the fuck was responsible for us?)

She smiled sweetly, leaned in towards us and whispered "You'll be careful now, won't you?"

She looked at me and said my name

Hoping I'd be the responsible/most easily intimidated one

(I had beef with that woman, mmmkay? But that's a story for another day)

I smiled and I told her: "Of course. We are just taking pictures of what we see. We'll let the truth speak for itself"

We did

No commentary

Just very objective descriptions and pictures

We really felt like heroes of the free press and free speech, at the service of the people despite the threat of power. (Yes, it sounds dramatic. It's because we were teenagers)

And then there were the other, less momentous adventures:

That one time when, after days of editing, we had to fill a little blank space at the bottom of the last page and nothing fit. We were frantically searching through our notes, the articles other students had sent us, drawings, everything, and we were slowly losing hope, until B. unearthed one of my notebooks and said : "What is this? 'Requiem. In memoriam termosifoni malati, ego ista verba pronuntio..." I was horrified. "NO" I yelled. "That's just a joke. We are NOT publishing that. NO WAY!" It was really a silly thing, you see. There was a radiator in our classroom that didn't work very well. Sometimes it was scorching hot, sometimes (on the coldest days, obviously) it was icy. So my friend E. and I had decided that the radiator was "sick", and we wrote its last will, its epitaph, parodies of famous poems like "La fontana malata" (The sick fountain) by Palazzeschi or "All'amica risanata" (To the healed friend) by Foscolo (can't find translations, sorry). It was fun. B.had found my silly attempt to write a "Requiem" in...kinda dog Latin I guess? But the grammar was correct. In any case, IT WAS NOT MEANT TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. But we were desperate, so I relented. On one condition: it had to be ANONYMOUS. And that was the best decision I ever made in my entire life, because when we distributed the newspaper I saw a bunch of Latin teachers analising the fucking thing in front of their classes. "Mmmmhhh I am not sure an accusative was the best choice here. I would have gone with a dative." Then write your own pastiche poem, Marta! One of them had even copied it on the blackboard and was trying to figure out the metric! That was the equivalent of a 3am shitpost, not fucking Catullus, people! I have never been so embarrassed in my life! At least my friends were having a field day with it. Oh, and my Latin and Greek teacher figured it out. She read it and told me : "This was you, wasn't it?" I wanted to disappear. But she said it was funny, and that was the end of it.

All the times we had to edit what other students gave us and it was WILD, you guys. The grammar alone...The choice of topics....We got quite a few articles about UFO sightings over our town, so that was a thing. (We got to see a lot of really interesting and creative stuff, though)

The times we absolutely lost our cool, because it was hard work, okay? "Federica, your Isabel Allende analysis is a bit too long. Maybe if we cut the Scheherazade comparison..." "YOU ARE NOT CUTTING THE SCHEHERAZADE COMPARISON, B." "But.." "That is the backbone of the whole thing. The structure would collapse without it." "It's only a metaphor!" "No! I won't sell myself and my principles for a chance to be published" "Guys! CALM DOWN! It's just...essentially a book report." "SHUT UP C."[........] "I think we need to eat something" "Yeah. Should I make pancakes? With chocolate chips or without, B.? "

The time we got stuck at school because it was snowing, and C. wrote a beautiful piece called "The agonizing mesmerism of snow", and our friend P.,who was a wizard with a pencil, made an earie and amazing drawing for it that almost made me cry. Coincidentally, it was the day pope Ratzinger resigned. We thought it was a joke while still at school, then later on agreed that it was the reason it had been snowing in the first place. None of us wanted to write about the pope, so we asked the guy who was always sending us articles about the occult and arcane symbols hidden in churches. It turned out great.

The time a bunch of our more "troublesome" classmates started making hilarious dirty jokes based on Catullus' double entendres and B. promised them we would publish them (anonymously) if they wrote them down. They did, and the result was a page titled "Surrealism" full of the dirtiest "poetic" stuff in existence that made everybody laugh themselves unconscious, with the exception of some teachers who somehow didn't get the jokes.

The time we interviewed our student representative (a classmate of ours), whom B. had always thought was too full of himself and needed to be brought down a notch. So we "accidentally" misspelled his name in the article. Nobody noticed except him. He was fuming and it was glorious (not my proudest moment, but what can you do)

The time another brilliant classmate wrote a piece called "The pathologic mysoginist" that absolutely enraged some of the guys in our school. I stan her to this day.

That time I wrote a long article for Woman's day about the abuse and mistreatment of women in our country and across the world. I thought it was nothing special, really, but then Maria the janitor (the sweetest lady in existence) stopped me in the corridor and teared up a bit and said that she hadn't known about a lot of the things I had discussed, but she thought it was important to talk about them and that she felt represented as a woman and that she wanted to bring the paper home to read it to her husband. It touched me so deeply I still get emotional when I think about it.

Anyway, all of this and more happened in one year. Then we, too, had to worry about university admissions and exams and we passed the burden on to "aliens and occult" guy (who was amazing too)

But I remember the passion we poured into it, the willingness to take risks, the feeling of defying authority for the "greater good". We were idealists, all of us, and so full of hope and a will to change things in every way we could. Maybe a high school newspaper means nothing in the great scheme of things, but it meant something to us. It made us brave when we didn't think we were. It made us defiant. I wonder if that part of me is still sleeping, somewhere deep inside.

[kuuderekun]

Misconceptions about the Magi and the Census

Matthew 2:1 clearly says.

Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem

And yet today the notion is constantly being promoted that the Magi arrived 2 years later, or at least over a year. The first argument for this presented is saying that Jesus was called a "child" not a "baby".  However the same Greek word translated "child" in Matthew 2:8, Luke uses in the same form in 2:17 to refer to the newborn Jesus.  And the form of the word used in Matthew 2:9 is used in Luke 2:21 of Jesus at his Circumcision.  So that whole argument is based on ignorance of the Greek. That Herod ordered everyone under two years old to be killed was probably him grossly rounding up.  Matthew 2:16 clarifies Herod was killing two years and under from when they saw the Star.  And at the time Herod asked when they saw it they both may have thought the birth happened when they saw the star.  But they were Human.  God's inspired Word in Matthew 2:1 clearly and unambiguously synchronizes the Birth of Jesus to when the Magi arrived in Jerusalem, not when the Star was first seen.  God used the Star to bring them to where he wanted them when he wanted them.  And I think even if the Magi told Herod the King was probably born now not then, Herod would not have wanted to take a chance on it. Matthew 2:8 says Herod told them to "search diligently" so he may have given them plenty of time before realizing he'd been snubbed. So I don't think the two year time frame in question cleanly begins or ends with the Birth of Jesus. "You're placing the Presentation in The Temple between the magi's Visit and Herod ordering the massacre" You may object. Herod wasn't always in Jerusalem, in fact sometimes he usually wasn't.  He may have been there when Jesus was born simply to be there for Hanukkah.  So it's easily possible he wasn't there 40 days later when the Presentation happened. But there is one last argument against The Magi arriving in Jerusalem when Jesus was born, and I saved that for last cause I want to use it to transition into something else. That argument is that in Matthew 2 Jesus and his parents are living in a House not an Inn.  Before I'd argued simply that a few days could be enough time for them to find better living quarters, as not everyone in Bethlehem when they first arrived was gonna stay there, some the Census may have been making travel even further.  But my views on that have possibly changed, which I want to explain below. The problem is much of how we picture the Birth of Jess is indeed not Biblical.  There is no Biblical account of them seeking room in an Inn and finding none.  Nor does it anywhere say he was born in a stable or a cave, that tradition comes from Christianized Rome wanting to make a cave for worshiping Adonis into a Church, thus we get the current Church of the Nativity. The one occurrence of the word "inn" in the KJV of Luke 2:7 is mistranslated.  The Greek word is Katalumati.  The other two times it is used it is translated in the KJV "guestchamber".  It means a guest room of sorts usually located on the upper floor of a house.  It is used of the Upper Room of the Last Supper in Mark 14:14 and Luke 22:11, one of those is the same author as this verse. And this statement that there was no room in the Katalumati comes after Jesus is born, not before, it's about where to place him after being born.  This Katalumati is not where he was born. Luke 2 also doesn't even say Jesus was born as soon as they arrived in Bethlehem.  Verses 1-5 tell us the Census brought them to Jerusalem.  And then verse 6 says while they were there the time for Mary to give Birth came.   They could have been in Bethlehem for weeks or even months.  Which also addresses the criticism of making Mary travel this far at a full 9 months.  I now think that she may well have been only 4 or 5 months pregnant when they traveled to Bethlehem. So there is in fact nothing in Luke's account to definitively contradict a theory that Jesus was born in a house that Joseph (or his family) owned.  Yet I myself was still clouded by these misconceptions when I made all my previous Christmas relevant posts.  It's possible there was no room on the main floor because others of the House of David were also staying there at this time. Which is why I want to move on to the Census now. When refuting the common assertion that a Roman census would never require such traveling on message boards I would copy/paste the following which I no longer remember where exactly I got it from.

First of all, lets look at a few early census accounts taken from history and see how they matchup with the Bible: The following is a record of a census taken in the year 104 A.D. which contains similar wording to that found in the Gospel: "From the Prefect of Egypt, Gaius Vibius Maximus. Being that the time has come for the house to house census, it is mandatory that all men who are living outside of their districts return to their own homelands, that the census may be carried out." Another census was uncovered from 48 A.D.which also records a return of the people to their native land for the census. It reads as follows: "I Thermoutharion along with Apollonius, my guardian, pledge an oath to Tiberius Claudius Caesar that the preceding document gives an accurate account of those returning, who live in my household, and that there is no one else living with me, neither a foreigner, nor an Alexandrian, nor a freedman, nor a Roman citizen, nor an Egyptian. If I am telling the truth, may it be well with me, but if falsely, the reverse. In the ninth year of the reign of Tiberius Claudius Augustus Germanicus Emperor." It is interesting to note that these two census accounts required a person to return to their homeland to be registered. The same is true of the Gospel account.

The response I got (that at the time I wasn't ready to respond to) was that the point of these was to bring land owners to where they owned their land, not the hometown of a distant ancestor from a thousand years ago.  (Another objection is that these were Egyptian customs, but it's logical similar ones were done in neighboring provinces). That notion seems inconsistent with the Nativity narrative only because of the extra-Biblical assumptions I just addressed. The reason these Census instructions were needed is because clearly many people were living somewhere other then where they actually owned their property. Remember, the word translated "Carpenter" in reference to Joseph could also very likely imply he was actually an Architect.  He may have been in Galilee because of a construction project, perhaps one of Herod's many.  And of course those insisting Nazareth is to young a city to be the Biblical one suggest it was at most brand new when Jesus was born.  Maybe Joseph was helping build Nazareth?  Or Sepphoris? This Census, (whichever one it was, I'll try to tackle that in the future), then required him to return home sooner then originally planned. And if my argument that Bethlehem is "Zion, which is the City of David" is true. Then that adds a lot to the above observations.  As we now see that David's family never stopped being linked to Bethlehem after they became Royalty. Now I've seen someone argue that Nazareth not Bethlehem must be their hometown in Luke because of Luke 2:39.  Well Luke 2:3 says they are to return to their "own city", so if Luke 2:39 is calling Nazareth their "own City" in contrast to Bethlehem, then you're not even dealing with an inconsistency with other records, but accusing Luke 2 of being inconsistent with itself.  Since no one accuses Luke of being garbled together from different authors like they do some other books, that option isn't really viable.  Luke 2:39 is simply about Nazareth becoming their new hometown after deciding to move there permanently, with Matthew 2 providing the reasons why this change in residence happened.  It may be that the English simply words this misleadingly. Now this doesn't change that events of Matthew 1 take place while Mary and Joseph were in Nazareth even though Matthew doesn't mention Nazareth in that chapter.  But Matthew doesn't mention Bethlehem in that chapter either, Bethlehem is first mentioned in Matthew 2 when Jesus was born, and six to nine months separated the events of chapters 1 and 2.  In fact the way Bethlehem is specified in Matthew 2:1 could be taken as implying that's not where they were previously.

And it's still possible that Mary was indigenous to Nazareth.  Maybe Joseph met and courted her while in Nazareth on business.  Or maybe this arranged marriage is what first brought him there.  But the fact that Luke gives us the impression that the events of Matthew 1 didn't happen till three months into Mary's pregnancy makes most sense if we presume Joseph was living in Bethlehem when the Annunciation and Visitation happened in Nisan, and came to Nazareth for the wedding around the end of Sivan or beginning of Tammuz.

https://midseventiethweekrapture.blogspot.com/2017/01/misconceptions-about-magi-and-census.html

[minichicclothing]

Don't Stop Believing Para Christmas Hat T Shirt From AllezyGo

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IS LIKE A DEUS EX MACHINA WHERE CHARACTER CAN JUST DO ENTERING THIS IS WHERE LEVELING OUTand WEAR ANYTHING NOW WITH BRENDA’S RULER STATING TO NOT KNOW HOW HIS POWERS WERE OR WHAT HE USES HIS RESPONSIBILITY IN THE WAY WE SAID SO MUCH TIME HEADING INTO THE SEASON TALK ABOUT THE ROLE OF THE 300and ENDED UP GETTING A LINE A SINGLE LINE HEADING INTO THE AREA WITH HER FATHER PLANNING FORand ABOUT HOW HE WAS THE PROTECTOR OF MEMORY OKAY SOand THE IDEA OF SOMEBODY IN CHARGE OF JERRYand HONESTLY TRY TO VOICE THIS A COUPLE TIMES WHO HAS UNDERSTANDING OF HISTORYand THUS AN UNDERSTANDING OF MISTAKESand THUS BY EXTENSION LOGICALLY HOPEFULLY HOW TO AVOID THEM OKAY MIKE MOORE DOES BRAND OF THE FUTURE BECAUSE I THERE IS AMPLE CANONICAL EVIDENCE OF THE ANSWER THAT QUESTION IS YES YOU WHENand BEFORE YOU TRAIN TO BE 300and BRAND IS A GREEN SERIES ON THE SCENE COME TO WINTER FELL THAT WAS THE SAYS OUT LOUD MY DREAMS COME TRUE HE SAW THE SHADOW OF THE DRAGON OVER THE ROWS OF KING’S LANDING SEESAW THE SO I DON’T WANT THE PERSON IN CHARGE OF MY LIFE TO KNOW MY FUTURE BECAUSE THEN NOTHING THAT I DO MATTERS MORE IS OLDEST ABOUT POSITIONING TOGETHER THAT’S A WITH ARIANAand WE ALL REALLY WERE VERY PRO RAID FOR BUT THAT WAS THAT NAGGING QUESTION THE BACK OF OUR MINDS WILL SHE ALWAYS GOING TO BECAUSE BRENT HANDED HER THE RIGHT NOW IS GET ONand GET DOWN WE’RE TALKING ABOUT THE GAME THE EPISODE IS THAT THE ONE OF THE MOST BELOVED EPISODES OF THIS ENTIRE SERIES IS WHEN WHERE IT’S WERE YOU KNOW WE STILL IN THE GARAGE ON INand THERE IS NEVER REALLY A MOMENT WHERE THAT REGARDLESS OF WHETHER OR NOT BREAKand EXPRESS HIMSELF EMOTIONALLY OR NOT IS NOT ACTUALLY EVER LIKE YOU WERE STORY WAS IMPORTANT TO THIS ENDING BECAUSE LIKE WE SHOULD LET STAND AT THE NEXT SCENE IS ESSENTIALLY LIKE JOHN GETS FARMED OUT THE NIGHTWATCH I MEAN WE SHOULD TALK ABOUT I THINK I SENSE OF THE WAY THEY PRESENT THAT FINAL SCENE WITH BRENDA’S KINGand IN WITH HIS SMALL COUNCIL I THINK THAT IS REALLY ILLUSTRATIVE AS IT IN MINIATURE OF THE WAY BRAIN IS POSITIONED WITHIN THE SERIESand KIND OF LIKE THE FLAWS IF YOU WANT TO SAY OF HOW COME THIS STORY OF HOW THIS STORYLINE FINISHEDand WHICH IS WHY I THINK A MORE CHARITABLE READING OF THIS IS REALLY LIKE TERRYand RUNNING THE REALM YOU Iand MY A WEEK CAN YOU CAN MAKE AN ARGUMENT THAT THE WORD ABOUT THE CHAIR RIGHT IS DOESN’T ACCOUNT FOR BRAND SAYING YEAH IT’S ME YOUR BOY I AGREE WITH YOU BUT I THINK THAT THAT LOOK AT THE WAY THAT SCENE PLAYS OUT IT STARTS WITH TEARY POSITIONING THE CHAIRS RIGHT OBVIOUSLY LIKE A METAPHOR FOR HIM TWEAKINGand CONTROLLING THE ROUND WHILE THE COMMITTEE MEMORIZE THE ANSWERS THEY WERE ARRANGING THE CHAIRS COMES IN THEY TALK ABOUT SELF BRAIN COMES IN FOR TWO SECONDS BLAH BLAH BLAH I’LL LOOK FOR THE DRAGON AMOUNTand THEN WE GET THAT SCENE OF THEM HAGGLING ABOUT COINSand CHIPSand SOFTand THAT SOFT PULLBACK AS IF ANand WHAT ARE WE WHAT ARE WE LEFT WITH THIS IS WHERE THE ROUNDS CAN BE CONTROLLED FROM THIS IS WHAT THE GOVERNANCE IS GONNA BE LIKE A KIND OF AS IT ALWAYS WASand BRAND IS NOT GOING TO BE INVOLVED HE WENT WAY TO GO DO STUFF HERE’S MY COUNTERPOINT THEY DIDN’T GIVE A SANITIZED VERSION OF THE STORY BECAUSE TERRY NEVER HAD A HAD A PROBLEM THE SMARTEST ONE IN THE ROOM IS TO SHINE THE CASE FOR AN WHAT IS HE SAYING IS SO DON’T NOTICE ME ACTUALLY I JUST KEEP MAKING BAD CHOICES BUT ACTUALLY YOU FOR YOUR MISTAKES BY SERVING THE HEAD OF THE KING FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE THE THING THAT I WANTED THOUGH WAS AN EXCHANGE WHEN TIERNAN JOHN SIEGE OF THE BEFORE JOHN WAS THE NIGHTWATCH IS THIS IDEAS OF LIKE OKAY SO THAT WHAT WAS WITH THE TRANSACTION HERE THAT YOU’RE YOU’RE THE HAND OF THE KING NOWand I’M NEVER TO HAVE A WIFEand I GO BACK TO WHICH HONESTLY IF TORMENT HAD BEEN LIKE M WRIGHT WANT TO START DOING THIS YOU CAN IT WAS LATER TOLD ME IT WAS MY DESTINY TO BECAUSE I WAS THE VERSION OF LIKE MY SITTING ON THE ARTS ROAD WITH THE THING THAT THE NARROWSand ALWAYS PROMISED THIS BENEVOLENT PERSON WHO WAS GONNA TRYand PROTECT PEOPLEand THEY DON’T EVEN DISCUSS IT AS EASILY GOTTEN OFF DUTY I FEELING I GOT MULTIPLE WATCHES TEARYand SYRIANSand IS A LOT MORE COMPLEX I THINK THEN ON FIRST BLANCH PLUMBING DANNY LISA JUST FINE WHEN WE GET OTHERWISE IS A SERIES OF CHARACTER CODERS YOU BREANNE WRITES JAMIE STORYand THE OTHERS I WILL SAY TO YOU HOW HAITI WILL BE REMEMBERED RIGHT LIKE NO I LIKED IT BUT IT’S LIKE THIS IN JUST A BASIC HUMAN LEVEL WHAT WOULD YOUR ASK WHO YOU LEFT RIGHT ABOUT YOU ON ANYTHING LIKE IT’S GREAT THAT SHE WROTE ALL THE NICE STUFF BUT IT’S KIND OF ALSO RINGS A LITTLE FALSE THAT SHE WASN’T LIKEand WAS AN ASS HOLE WHO LEFT ME LIKE BLAH BUT I DON’T AGREE I THINK THAT ULTIMATELY BRAND IS ONE OF THE CHARACTERS IN THE ENTIRE STORY WHO WE CAN LOOK TO AS LIKE SOMEBODY WHO REALLY UNDERSTANDS WHO SHE ISand THAT WE CAN FIND A LOT THERE TO ADMIREand TYPE SO WHEN PEOPLE AFTER EPISODE FOR LIKE OH MY GOD THEY DISLIKE REDUCE BRAND TO AUNT SALLY CRYING IS WHAT IS TO THINK THAT ALL BUT YOU CAN BE A STRONG WOMANand YOU CAN HAVE A LOTION JUST LIKE SHE COULD BE DEVASTATED THAT JAMIE LOVES HERand STILL WANT TO HONOR HER SAY HER SACRED PRINCIPLE IS NOTHINGS MORE PAINFUL THAN FAILING TO PROTECT WHEN YOU LOVEand SHE’S PROTECTING JAMIE’S I ADDITIONAL SECRET I I JUST IT’S LIKE I WOULD’VE LIKED SOME EMOTION FROM I GUESS IT’S YOU KNOW IT’S THAT THING OF LIKE SHE CAN BE BOTH STRONGand ALSO LIKE THIS THAT THIS HAPPENEDand INSTEAD SHE’S JUST A LIKE OUR OUTRAGEOUS HISTORY OR JAMIE WANDERING WALL OKAY SO BREANNE IS CLEARLY COMMANDER THE KING’S GUARD WHICH IS GREAT BUT WHAT ABOUT THE VARIOUS BRANDSand KINGSLAND NON CATHOLICS CHILDREN I GUESS THAT’S THE BUT THAT’S NOT REALLY RUTH RATE IS LIKE THERE’S NO COMMERCE I’D LOVE TO SEE THE CONVERSATION REMBRANDT SIGNS ARE WHEN THEY DECIDE CAN ACTUALLY RAIN TOGETHER PLAZA PROBABLY NEEDS A GUARD TO IT WOULD ALSO BE HAVE SAUNDERS AGREE TO THE NORTH ARIANA GOES WEST TO FIND OUT WHAT’S WEST OF WEST ROSE NOTHING RETURNS THE WALL GO SEE NORMAN SEES GOES IN THE LITTLE COUNSEL TO DISCUSS DIFFERENT PUBLIC WORKS TO DOand THEN THERE IS A MONTAGE OF THE START OF THE SEARCH ESSENTIALLY PEOPLE SALUTING GONZO WITHOUT THE CROWN DOESN’T OR YOU’LL MAILING THE MAIN CROWNand JOHN WRITING OUT I SEEM TO ESCORT THE WILD WINGS BACK OUT TO THEIR TO THEIR HOMELANDS IT ALWAYS FEELS LIKE HE’S WITH THEM WITH THEMand IT’S THAT IT WILL END THE SHOP WAS A VERY INTERESTING SO JOHN IS GOING TO LEAVE THE NICE LUNCH AGAIN WHAT HE IS RENDERING I GUESS I YEAH I THINK DELIBERATELY OPEN TO INTERPRETATIONand YOU KNOW HE MAY BE NO LINE IN THE IN THE EPISODE BETTER SUMMED UP THE LIKE THEY’LL FIGURE IT OUT NATURE OF THIS EPISODE IN THE SEASON THAN TERRYand SANG ARE NUKING DOESN’T SEND YOU THE NIGHTWATCH JOHN SAYING THERE STILL A NICE WATCHand HEARand SAVE THE WORLD WILL ALWAYS THE HOME FOR PASTORSand BROKEN MAN OKAY AGAIN ON THE ONE HAND THERE’S IDEAS ARE ESSENTIAL TO THE SHOW ON THE OTHER HAND LITERALLY WHY IS THE NIGHTWATCH AREA I WAS WAITING FOR LIKE SOCIAL I DON’T OCCUR SOMETHING I FIND IT I FOUND IT VERY I FOUND THE OUTLINE FASCINATING BECAUSE A LOT OF THE TENSION IN BETWEEN JOHNand TEARYand IN SEASON ONE IS JOHN’S NAIVETY IN BELIEVING THAT THE NIGHTWATCH WAS THIS NOBLE PROFESSION STANDING BETWEEN THE REALMS OF MANand WILD WINGSand EVIL ETC

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The Wolf of Farore - Chapter 13

An Ongoing Zelda/Witcher Fusion Fic - Updates Wednesdays/Thursdays

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Summary:

War has come to The Kingdom of Hyrule.  The people cry for a savior as monsters and spirits stalk the once green fields of the provinces.  Famine grips the populace as the Gerudo Tribes and their blin allies strike along the borders.  Hope for peace begins to drown in the blood spilled in No Man’s Land.  But Hyrule doesn’t need another hero.  It needs a professional.

The Story So Far:

In spite of their best preparations, Link and Midna’s victory was not without a cost.  They arrive back at the Goron Village to prepare their next moves.

CHAPTER 13:  RIVERBOUND

Link went straight to Darunia once he’d ensured Epona was dry in the nearby cave. He still cradled the imp in his hat while he entered the dome, using his deep green rain cloak to help shield her from the eyes of refugees. He found them in the archive dome with Gorko. They were going over what looked to be a map of the caves. The fire was roaring as well and it was warm and inviting.

 “Those kegs are still in the temple,” Darunia said. “We could demolish it.”

 “And with so many war orphans coming through it’d only take one to get lost and hurt in there. Especially since I don’t think anyone is going to be using Old Kakariko after what it sounds like happened,” Gorko said. “I’m pretty sure Din would forgive us as well, since we have a newer one finished and are demolishing the old one to ensure no one gets hurt.”

 “Tomorrow, take a couple others with you and document everything. Remove any last relics and move them to the new one. Once it’s cleared we’ll detonate the kegs.” He looked up as he heard Link’s boots. “I take it you two succeeded.”

 “We did,” Link said. “But, we’re gonna need the archives again. And wouldn’t say no to a doctor.” He was feeling the Din’s Fury wearing off. His legs shook, his reaction time returning to more human levels. Gorko brought him a chair.

 “What’ve you got there?” Darunia asked, pointing at the bundle.

 He looked down at the imp. She looked up at him, a red eye peeking out from the blanket and her fang sticking out of her lip in a sneer. The gorons gasped though when they saw an arm stick out of the cloak. A moment later, her head emerged, eliciting a gasp from the gorons. “Midna got hit with a curse…”

Gorko watched as she adjusted the cloak and hat bundle to cover herself a little but remained in Link’s arms. “Well, we did know that mask had some incredibly powerful magic in it,” he said.

 “You’re tellin’ me,” Midna said. She sighed and pushed some of her hair out of her face for a moment before it moved on its own and tied itself into a simple ponytail.

“Polymorphic of some kind I’d assume. Knowing that the mask was behind it too gives us a good starting point.”

 “Did we dig out all the books on it last night?” she asked.

 “I can go through the basement.” He folded his arms. “I’m more concerned though what people will say if they see you. People do come into the archives to look around.”

 “I agree,” Darunia said. “There’s too many people around.”

 “Don’t forget I can hide in shadows,” she said, raising a finger. “I might not be at full strength, but I can still do that. I just need a little bit to recover.”

 “We need a reason to risk having you around though,” Darunia said, folding his arms. “Things are already tense. And you’re one of Link’s associates. They’re already looking for him. Give us something in return and I’ll allow you to do your research.”

 She gave a tired nod. “I can do some translation work. Already did some when it came to those books yesterday. What’s a little more?”

 Darunia looked at Gorko, who nodded. “I could always use someone with linguistics skills,” he said. “I have a backlog actually from my travels.”

 “Let me take a look, maybe I’ll recognize it.”

 “So she can stay?” Link asked.

 “She can stay,” Darunia said. “Long as she helps and doesn’t do anything to scare anyone.”

 “Good.” He looked a little relieved. “I need to get to Zora’s Domain in the Snowpeak Range now. We can’t risk something that’ll make a foreign power want to enter the war.”

 “Agreed. If they weren’t allied with the sea zora, I’d say it wouldn’t matter. But because they are…”

 Link got to his feet, still shaking a little. “I’ll depart tomorrow at dawn then by the river.”

 “They might recognize Epona,” Midna said, glancing up at him. “I remember the boats that patrol the river goes past a couple forts.”

 “I never said I’d be on the boat.” He pulled his hat back on. “I do have the zora scalemail. Won’t be comfortable, but I can dig some hooks into the keel of one going upstream and wait until it reaches the domain. Speaking of which…” Link removed the scabbard for his sword. “Who do I talk to about a new sword?”

  It had cost him nearly every rupee, but he had a strong subrosian-crafted steel arming sword now stowed in his scabbard. It lay next to one of Epona’s saddlebags in a small tent, as he prepared for his trip. He’d already put on the armor he’d be wearing to ensure it still fit properly.

 It was a deep blue shirt that had long sleeves under a scalemail vest. The armguards and greaves had a set fins on them that folded out, along with small gemstones charged with magic. When activated, he could even walk on the floor of a lake. He’d already used it to walk on the ocean floor on his first major assignment years ago now. The most important part though was the facemask that was around his neck. The cloth was enchanted so that when he pulled it over his face that it’d function like a set of gills. There was also a thick set of goggles that were attached to a long hat, which would cover his face. Not an inch of skin would be exposed while he was wearing it for the simple fact it had been designed with ocean depths in mind. Traversing the rivers of Hyrule would be simple compared to that. He fixed the hat on. It was like the green one, but longer and more reminisce of a zora’s head. He tried pulling the mask down over his face and the cloth around his neck up over his mouth and nose to make sure it was comfortable before pulling both back. It would take a few days, maybe a week to get up Zora’s Domain. He wanted to make sure he didn’t have to constantly readjust it all.

 “I thought you said you were leaving in the morning,” Midna said.

 He jumped a bit hearing her. Looking around, he couldn’t see her. When he looked to the bag again, he saw her, still an imp, floating over it. She wore the tattered remains of her. “Just making sure everything still fits,” he said. Link pulled the hat off. “Thought you’d be back in the archives at work.”

 “Taking a break.” She grinned. “With so many people around, it’s actually kind of easy to move from shadow to shadow. No one’s noticed me yet.”

 “That’s good.” He stuffed two vials into one of the pouches on his tunic. “You look better.”

 Midna scowled at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He could see her fang sticking out.

 “Compared to when I carried you out of the well. You’re up and about. You don’t look as pale or exhausted. I’d guess your magic is back to normal?”

 “Not quite…” She drifted down behind the saddlebag. “I can’t do a lot of the tricks I used-to, but I can levitate almost effortlessly now. Casting illusions around myself too is far easier. And…” Her hair moved on its own. Link watched as it seemed to extend and form a great red hand. It twisted on its own and she was able to use it to dig into the saddlebag. She’d soon pulled out the bottle of spices he’d carried with him. The grin on her face seemed incredibly appropriate for her current shape.

 “I didn’t know you could do that.” He smiled a little.

 “Used to do it all the time actually.” The hand pulled back and within moments it was back to being her hair. “Just not exactly practical to use I’ve found when using spellwork. If I hadn’t made the portals to catch the spells from the sorcerer, I could’ve caught them like that and thrown them back. This way though I’m using it more like a focus for my magic. Which is something I couldn’t do.”

 “Impressive.”

 “Takes magic to create and hold spells with though. The amount of energy involved isn’t practical for anything but the biggest and nastiest sort of things. The things you don’t want to risk putting through a portal too.” She looked up at him. “Remember the cyclops in Lorule?”

 “The hinox?”

 “Yeah that thing. When it came charging at me, I could’ve caught it like that. Then thrown it aside. But it was easier to just blink to the left and let it crash into the wall.”

 He chuckled. “That would’ve been impressive.”

 “I know, but I really didn’t want to waste the magic.” She sighed. “Like this I don’t have a choice.” Midna slowly looked up at him, folding her arms then. “Speaking of magic, what were you thinking?! Attacking the mask like that?!”

 “What?”

 “Link, you had no idea what that would’ve done!” She drifted higher then so she was looking down at him. Her head brushed the tent’s ceiling. “Hell, it could’ve brought the entire cave down on top of us from the energy it released! It could have shot eye beams at you and turned you to ash! And because of what happened we don’t know if there’s any unforeseen consequences!”

 He let out a sigh and shook his head. “So what? Was I supposed to just let it place itself on your face like it did the mage?”

 She merely glared at him for a minute, but looked away with a sigh.

 “Well?”

 “It was a risk, but I might’ve been able to resist it long enough to get it back to The Twilight.” She looked back at him then. “If you hadn’t have jumped in like that!”

 “And leave me behind here in spite of what we agreed upon yesterday.” Link shook his head with a sigh before looking her right in the eye. “Damnit, Mid… I saw you struggling. And if it had gotten on your face, then what? If something happened to you, then we could be looking at The Twilight entering the war. Neither of us want that.”

 She spun in the air to look away from him with a scoff. “Something did happen.”

 “We can break that curse. Bringing you back from the dead wouldn’t be possible.”

 Midna glanced over her shoulder at him. “And if I’m stuck like-“

 “You’re not gonna be stuck like this. I promise.”

 There was a minute before she sighed and turned back to face him, planting her tiny hands on her hips. She drifted down to eye level a bit more with him. “You are such a noble idiot.”

 “Hey, you said the exact same thing to me when I got cursed back during The Conjunction.”

 “I know.” She was smirking now. “You made a terrible wolf too.”

 “Well, that and you said I wouldn’t be stuck like that.”

  She laughed quietly then, but her smile faded. “So, you have an idea where to start looking for information for all this?’ she asked.

 “Sure do.” Link packed a couple different bolt types for his crossbow and removed the grenades. The water would ruin the powder in them so there was no reason to take them. “I’ll have Telma put the information on my tab.”

 “Who?”

 “She’s an information broker I know.” He adjusted himself in the tent a little so he was more comfortable and yawned. “You want to know something going on, you can talk to her. Won’t be cheap, but always good information. If she doesn’t have something on Majora’s Mask and curses, she can point me at someone who does.”

 “And she’s a zora?”

 Link shook his head. “She used to work out of Castle Town before her bar and home was taken from her. So she set up along Lake Hylia; neutral territory. King Zora has them join the war though she might lose it again.”

 “She’s gerudo I’m guessing then…”

 “Half.” He pulled the hat of his armor off and yawned. “A few others like her lost their businesses. A couple were hanged. She got out before it got that bad though.” Link looked back at the imp. “Sure I can work out something with her. Maybe find a way to ensure she can stay put. I’m gonna need a good information broker too.”

 “Can you trust her?”

 Link shook his head. “Not like I can trust you. But I can trust her to do her job. And I’m not going to be giving her things like state secrets.”

  “That’s something at least.” Midna hopped up from behind the saddle bag, spinning as she drifted into the air. “Remember too, you can use the wolf charm I made for you like your old one.”

 “I know. Though still not sure I like the idea of you spying on me through it.”

 She laughed. It was higher than her normal voice. “I’m going to be busy enough translating all these things. Have you seen the basement of the archive dome?”

 “I didn’t know there was one.”

 “Exactly! If you really need something or are going to be looking over some magic information, let me know. I’ll do what I can from here.”

 “Thanks.” Link felt his arms shaking. He grabbed another bottle of milk from the saddlebag.

 “You okay?”

 He pulled the cork and took a mouthful. “It’s the Din’s Fury. It’s leaving my system still.” He took another drink. “We try not to use ones like that too often.”

 “I think I can see why. Like that green one you took when we were stuck in the Skull Woods.”

 “The Farore’s Kiss?” He nodded. “I couldn’t see a thing for a day after that.”

 She laughed. “Yeah, me and Ravio had to take turns to keep you from walking into trees!”

 He laughed a little with her. “Apart from the fact I am pretty sure you both guided me into one or two.”

 “What? Me?!” There was a feigned shock on the imp’s face. “I would never do such a thing!”

 “Of course you wouldn’t… The Twilight Princess is above such tricks!” The two friends laughed for a moment. “You going to be okay on your own here?”

 “I’ll be fine. I might look horrible and my magic isn’t at full strength, but I can still use it to throw someone a hundred feet in the air and hide in shadows. I’ll get a message sent at dusk too. Make sure my cadre knows I’m okay. ‘cause the last thing we need right now is one of my brothers coming looking for me.”

 “Agreed.” He corked the now empty bottle. “Given the amount of panic I got over my report mentioning the twili after The Conjunction, I can’t imagine what a couple more might cause.”

  Link took the rest of the day recovering and doing a couple small jobs around to help the gorons and refugees. He’d earned some money, but he was sure it wouldn’t be enough to buy the information he needed. After saying his goodbyes, he started down the mountain on foot. The sun was just starting to rise as he walked, running into more refugees heading up. He was making good time, which he felt was important. Sooner he got the information and a way to keep the zoras out of the war the better. As he neared Kakariko from the main path, he went off the trail. Being a Sheikah Village, the last thing he wanted was to walk right into it. He’d slipped around it before. The only difference this time was that he needed the river that ran past its southern edge. It didn’t take long for him to get around the village and soon came to the river. He could see to the west there was a boat coming up the river.

 It was a large riverboat with sails on the top of it, but not as big as the galleons that would be seen in the South Seas. It bore the flags of The Kingdom and a crest of a red eagle. He recognized it and immediately pulled the mask over his face. Link had the feeling there was one of his own on that boat and had no desire to encounter them. He took a deep breath and dove into the water. After a moment, he allowed himself to breathe, feeling the strange sensations along the facemask as it filtered the water. At least he thought it wasn’t as weird as the mermaid’s lungs potion. A small sign formed in his fingers and the gemstones activated on his armor. He dropped to the riverbed then and walked along its bottom. A little longer and he’d reached the boat. It had dropped its anchor and Link saw the wooden hull. He pulled a set of four hooks out and kicked off the river floor. He drifted upward and dug a hook into the thick wood. Holding onto it, he got the other in place. A moment later he’d had two more attached and was secured under the boat. A few minutes later he saw the anchor pulled out of the water and he felt the boat lurch. Something was amiss though. The boat suddenly began to glide through the water. He felt it rise as it gained speed. There must have been a wind mage on board as when he entered the water, the wind was blowing to the East, yet they were traveling west and against the current. If they kept the current speed, he might get to Zora’s Domain in a day.

  The hours passed. The riverbed changed considerably from when he’d entered it. Link had to hold even tighter onto the hooks to keep from being swept away. Glancing forward, he saw corpses floating. They were hylian and human; gerudo and blin. The water itself was murky as well now because of them all. The boat still cut forward through the water at the high speed it had been moving. He realized scavenging skullfish and drowners would be along soon, if they hadn’t already started to rip the bodies apart. Link thought quickly how he would fight them off if they came after him. He still had his knife in his bracer, but his bigger concern was how they would swarm. Live prey though like himself was a more difficult target and both the cursed skullfish and aquatic necrophages were both known more for being scavengers.

 The boat kept going at speed, passing through the majority of the corpses. That’s when he saw it; the massive skeletal fish that was swarmed by smaller ones. He grimaced, seeing he was going to attract the swarm even if he managed to move in some way. Link pulled the knife from its hiding place and prepared for the swarm. Within an instant of drawing it, he was mobbed. Dozens of tiny skullfish started nipping at the scale he wore. They tried to shred the materials. Even though the armor had been designed with sharks in mind, their teeth still managed to cause discomfort. The large one though got a hold of his arm as he skewered a couple of the smaller undead fish. He felt the teeth digging through the fabric and mail. A few air bubbles drifted out of his mask as he let out a cry of pain before Link coughed a little. He was forced to let go from the only hook he still had a grip on. The boat kept moving. His feet twisted and he was released from the second set.

  For a minute, he had no idea which way was up or down. He stabbed at the giant skullfish that was latched onto his arm. The others continued to swarm, biting madly. Link made a sign with his fingers and as he drifted past a rock, slammed his palm against it. In a flash, the water around him was boiled. With it, the skullfish were scorched. The large one’s head was all that was left that clung to his arm. He hadn’t managed to right himself though and got a brief glimpse of another rock before everything went black.

[shadowraiths-archived-blog]

3 Days (Part 1 & 2/??)

Mun Note : This is not an AU.  This is the initial thought process of Anthem’s life when he was first created.  It is almost three years old now and I still have not finished.  I should probably go back and finish it at some point, and I probably will, but I want to make sure that it’s somewhere I can find it in case I need it.

If you read this, I hope you like it.

As the burlap sack was ripped from over his head, the light, even as low as it appeared, was harsh to Anthem’s eyes. The past few hours he had been immersed in complete and utter darkness, the only sounds audible a few neighs of a horse and the hustle and shuffle of whoever his captors were shoving him into this now somewhat lit room.

There was a primitive bed made of hay which caught his eye. Mainly because if this was meant to be a prison of sorts for him, the fact that they cared enough to find hay for him to sleep on? It seemed a bit out of the oridnary. Also, it seemed big enough for two people. Another thing that struck the Prince of Huangshan as weird. Or at least, it was weird until the door opened again and another body tumbled to the ground.

“Bai Lin Gong Fu?” Anthems voice cracked, his throat dry. He needed water. It had been hours since he’d had anything to eat or drink.

The man that lay in a heap before him was another Prince. Anthem only recognized them because of the crest emblazoned on their shirt. The kingdom of Zheng He, where Bai Lin Gong Fu came from, was a small one, but the land they did own was rich in farm soil, never seeming to be out of season for whatever it was they planted. Their land was revered and envied by many. Perhaps that’s why the other Prince had been kidnapped.

It would make sense, seeing as Anthem’s kingdom, while not as rich in fertile soil, had an abundance of livestock and mines that provided work for many people. Not only did they help citizens find ways to survive, the King himself was a generous man who believed that his people should be cared for and sheltered as long as they helped maintain a peaceful atmosphere. This kindness made the kingdom on Huangshan most prosperous and in turn, the wealthiest one within 5 provinces. Followed only by…Zheng He.

Bai Lin Gong Fu looked up at the other prince, his face full of pain. “Krisanthemum of Huangshan? What is this?! Have you..” The boy - because yes, he was a boy, only seventeen years of age, not that much younger than Krisanthemum’s 22 years, but still younger - looked around in horror, crawling to a corner and settling in with his back to it. “is this a trick of sorts? Why are you here? Why am I here?”

Anthem didn’t know what to say. This was nothing his kingdom had done, but the fear in Bai Lin Gong Fu’s eyes relayed that anything Anthem could come up with would be taken as a lie. He decided to try anyway though. “I am not sure what’s happening. I was out for a ride yesterday and just before I made my way back to the castle gates, my horse was spooked. I fell and when I woke I was bound, in the back of a wagon. I can’t use my magic,” He looked down at his wrists, two bands wrapped around them. Obviously something to hinder his skill of teleportation. “I got here mere moments before you did. If this is a trick, it is a horrible one and someone..” Anthem looked about, surveying the room. “will pay for this dearly.”

“It is no trick, Prince Krisanthemum of Huangshan.” A voice came from the shadows, dripping with menace. “Prince Bai Lin Gong Fu of Zheng He. I am of a small sect of people who feel as though the people should be free of the tyrannical rule of your parents. So.. we’ve brought you both here to… make some decisions for us. You have three days to make that decision though. Only three.”

A knife was tossed to the floor from where the owner of the voice concealed themselves.

“Each of you have now been given a weapon, do with it what you will. Take your own life or fight to the death. Either way, we leave it up to you. Your parents will never find you, and to try to escape would be pointless. Bai Lin Gong Fu is the only child of his kingdom and you’re next in line for the throne of yours. A pity we couldn’t get your two younger brothers as well, Krisanthemum… but if we dispatch of you, it will be the beginning of the end for your family. As for Zheng He? The loss of their only heir will ruin the King and Queen.” There was a snort from the shadow man. “Now, take your weapon and make the decision. We will return in the morning to see what has happened.”

Footsteps wandered away and the two Princes were left to stare at the knife. Bai Lin Gong Fu reacted first, scrambling forward to snatch up weapon. Anthem wasn’t very much so concerned with it, he knew he could overpower the frail looking Prince of Zheng He if it came down to it, so he stood his ground, watching as Bai Lin Gong Fu stared him down.

“I..I’m n-not gonna k-kill myself, so I.. I h-have to k-kill you. I.. I’m s-sorry Krisanthemum.” Anthem turned to look at the other prince. His dark hair hung in his face, his hair ties had probably fallen out when he was kidnapped. Tear stains streaked along his red cheeks and Bai Lin Gong Fu’s voice was breaking as if he were finally going through the change to adulthood, but Anthem knew it was just the fear that seemed to be wracking the young man’s body. “Pl-please don’t h-hate me.”

“Bai Lin…” Anthem shook his head. “First off, has anyone ever told you that your name is far too long? I’m going to just stick to Bai Lin if that’s alright with you?” The boy just sniffled more. “Okay well then. Bai Lin, you’re not going to kill me. I’m not going to kill you. We’ll survive. Have no fear, please? I promise you, that we will survive this. Chances are, both our families are already searching for us and if not? We’re both young and resourceful. I’m not sure about you, but I’ve got years of training under my belt. We’ll be fine, please trust me on this?”

The smaller prince once again shook his head, hair flying about. “N-no! Y-you probably set this up!”

“I assure you I did not. What do you think you’re doing?” Bai Lin had taken a few steps forward, the knife held at an awkward angle. “That’s not even how you come at someone. So if you plan on killing me, child. At least..” Anthem tilted his head, a quick crack of his neck filling the room. He closed the space between himself and Bai Lin, taking a hold of the child’s wrist without much effort. “hold the blasted thing properly. Keep your wrist firm. Don’t hestitate. If you show weakness like you are right now, you’ll never win when it comes to fighting on the battlefield. I’ve only been in one scenario, and it was a scuffle amongst thieves and my father’s guard, but if I had behaved the way you are? Well, it wouldn’t be me stuck here with you.”

Releasing Bai Lin, Anthem made his way over to the makeshift bed, settling down into the hay. “Now, stop crying. If you plan on killing me, making all that noise won’t help you. I’m going to sit here and try to think of a way out of this. The sun is starting to set, so they wasted a good bit of time bringing us here. Day one of their three days is clearly almost over. Look behind you, you can see the shadows as the sliver of light coming into this room shifts.”

The hay was warm, which indicated that someone else has been in this room prior to them. Or it could have been an animal for all Anthem knew, but it made him wonder how far from civilization they were if the room were of such an amiable temperature. The room certainly wasn’t much of anything, probably a spare storage facility on someone’s farm, one that had been taken over by the riff raff who had taken them hostage.

“K..krisanthemum?” Bai Lin looked as if he were defeated, the knife still held tightly in his hand, but all spirit seemingly gone from his small form. “I’m c-cold.”

“You can come over here. I meant it. You have my word that I will not harm you while we’re here. You’ve done nothing to harm me on purpose and the circumstance we’re in is forgivable.” His voice came out in a hushed tone, his throat still somewhat raw. Anthem needed water. Hours had passed and he’d yet to even look around the room for some. “Come lay in the hay while I search for something for us to eat or drink. There might be left overs from whatever creature was here to begin with.”

Bai Lin nodded, slowly moving to rest in the hay as Anthem set about to examine the room. Not that there was much to the room. It was mostly oval in shape, again reaffirming to Anthem that it was a storage facility before hand. It was large enough to fit a good amount of people in it, maybe a group of twenty at the most, so in turn, it could have housed at least 5 cows. Which seemed plausible from the smell closer to what had probably been an open wall before it had been closed off to create this cell they were now stuck in.

“Stop calling me by my full name.” Now Anthem was just talking to keep himself occupied as he searched. “Call me Anthem or don’t call me at all, but when you whimper my full name like that, I feel as if I’ve done something wrong and I’m being chastised by my sisters. Aha! There we go…”

A trough was set up against the farthest wall, water dripping into it from a crevice above. While it possibly wasn’t the best water for them to drink, it was all they had at the moment. With utmost haste, the Prince of Huangshan cupped his hands together and collected some of the dripping water to drink. It tasted fresh, so perhaps the building was actually built against a mountain, if so, that would explain why the water was dribbling down into the building. Snowcaps melted in the sun during the day and made their way down the mountainside to form fresh water springs. So that meant their captors had brought them somewhere into the woods, but to a place where they could survive away from others.

“Bai Lin, come over here. Drink up so that you don’t get dehydra—” Anthem turned to motion his cellmate over, met with a knife to his side. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Y-you let your guard down. J-just because I’m young doesn’t mean I c-can’t take care of myself.” Bai Lin had pushed his hair from his face at this point, but there was something in his eyes that seemed a bit off. His teeth were pushed so far into his bottom lip that Anthem could see blood blooming beneath the surface and the young man’s shoulders were shaking so violently that the knife actually ripped at Anthem’s shirt, stretching the material out.

“My mother is going to be incredibly upset that this has a hole in it. I also told you, you’re holding the knife too limply. If you’re going to try to kill me… ” Anthem shifted his weight, grabbing the knife. Once he had it snatched away from Bai Lin, Anthem quickly grabbed at the boys wrist with his free hand, forcing him to turn around. It only took a few more steps and Anthem has his chest pressed to Bai Lin’s back, Bai Lin’s own knife held to the younger prince’s throat. “You have to hold the knife with a tighter wrist, like this. Now, stop with this madness, you fool. Drink the water and this?” He held the knife out, wiggling it. “You’re not allowed to play with sharp objects anymore. And to show you that I’m put out with how you’ve treated me, I’m going to rip your shirt like you ripped mine.”

“N-n-no!” Bai Lin began to struggle, sputtering and wiggling as best as his small form could. “No! I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! P-please don’t!” Small hands swatted at Anthem to no avail, crying out in horror as the knife sliced through the shirt, revealing white cloth binding his chest tightly. Even with the binding though, Anthem could see a slight swell of breasts.“No! No! Papa says no one can see! No one can see, you can’t look!”

“Bai…Lin…” Anthem let the other go quickly, his face full of shock, ears red and the realization of what he was looking at. “A-are you a girl?”

Bai Lin Gong Fu, the only son of Zheng He. Bai Lin Gong Fu, the heir to the throne. Bai Lin Gong Fu, not a Prince at all, but a Princess.

“Don’t look!” He, no she, scrambled back to the hay pile, curling up as if she’d been struck. “You might as well kill me now, I can’t go home. Papa said if anyone ever found out, I’d be sold to travelers. How could you do this to me Krisanthemum!? I can’t go home now, so please, please, please… just…” Her words trailed off as she began to cry.

“How? All these years and.. you’ve been a girl your whole life?”

That was a stupid question, even Anthem knew that. What a ruse that the kingdom of Zheng He had played on everyone all these years. However, looking back, there were signs. They claimed Bai Lin Gong Fu had poor health and could not participate in sports. They never let Bai Lin Gong Fu join the men on hunts either, again due to health reasons. Bai Lin Gong Fu seemed to enjoy balls and banquets far more than the other Princes.

“You… you’re a girl.”

“Shut up! Stop talking about it. I’m not a girl. I’m not. I’m a boy. The only boy. I’m the crowned Prince of Zheng He and no one, no one will ever learn otherwise. No one!” The tremble of her words made him cringe. As if one of his own sisters were upset and he couldn’t fix it.

Her voice. Her voice was another give away. Bai Lin had always sounded different. Bai Lin’s mannerisms as well. In fact, Anthem’s own mother had once commented that with the right amount of make-up Bai Lin would make a prettier Princess than a Prince. If only she had known how right she would be.

Anthem was gobsmacked. Kidnapped. His magic stripped from him. A strange man telling him that he either must kill himself or someone else to live and to find out the neighboring kingdom’s Prince is actually a Princess? Not even storytellers could come up with tales as grand as this, he was sure of it.

His stomach ached now and he felt as if he’d done the unspeakable by exposing Bai Lin’s secret. He wasn’t even sure if he could ever remedy what had happened, but he could try. Anthem began by slipping his shirt off, making his way back to where the Princess lay crying. “Take this and cover up. I’m sorry. I… you understand I was of the sound mind that you were male like me. If I had known, I never would have.”

“No one was supposed to know!” She sniffled, taking the shirt and tugging it on quickly. “And you cannot tell anyone, ever. EVER! Papa says no one would want a King who can’t produce a male heir, so I have to pretend. I have to. Just until Mama and Papa can have a real son. That’s all. That’s all. Papa promised. He tells me all the time how proud he is of me for behaving. For going through all this to help the people of Zheng He. It’s all for the people Kr…” She coughed, “Anthem. Mama has lost so many babies. So many. I almost died as a child too! Papa asked the ancestors to rescue me and they did, so it’s the least I can do for him. Please, please.. Please..” Her hands curled into fists and she held them close to her chest, tears streaming down her face once again.

It pained Anthem to see her like this, and while she was not one of his sisters, he shifted closer, dropping down to sit next to her, his words aimed to be soothing just as if she were. “I swear to you, no one will find out. I would die before sharing the secret your family harbors. Look, I’ll…” He pulled the knife from his waistband, slicing it along his palm. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it was enough that blood pooled in his palm, at which point Anthem held his hand to his chest, just over his heart. “A promise made in blood. I can’t go back on my word now. I will keep your secret and I will make sure that we both survive this ordeal. Now sleep. I will keep watch over you. Have no fear of tonight, nor tomorrow.”

It seemed an eternity until he received an answer from her, but when he did it was in the form of a sniffle followed by mumbled, “Thank you,” Bai Lin’s breathing finally calming down, the tears ceasing, replaced by a soft snore as sleep finally claimed her.

 Anthem’s brain had been chastising him for about six to seven hours.  Or perhaps he just assumed it was his brain when it was really the lack of sleep settling in.  His mind wandered to the edge of insanity, time after time after time, only meandering back to laugh at him for not realizing that Bai Lin was a girl.

    "Fool!“ it screamed as it toddled back and forth between his ears.  ”It’s clear that she is a female.  All you had to do was look further than your own nose and it would have been like the sun shining in your face.“

    ”Those are not the curves of a young man.“ His brain had a point.  

    ”That is not the skin of a warrior.“ Again, point notated.

    ”Chances are, every kingdom knows the secret of Zheng He.  They just play their parts, as have you your whole life.  See what you are told to see.  The kings and queens speak of her as a prince, so a prince is what you see.  The kings and queens speak of her as a boy, so a boy is what she is to you.  But look at her, Krisanthemum of Huangshan, look!  She is indeed all female.“

    He would have poked his eardrums out, but the noise would not have stopped.  He would have poked his eyeballs out, but he could not unsee what had happened the night before.

    Even now, as Bai Lin slept soundly, her smaller form wrapped up in Anthem’s shirt, he could see how his brain was right.  There were curves that could have never gone unnoticed.  That must have been why she never dressed as the other princes.  Her garments always appeared you be two sizes too large.  Most of the other royal children just assumed that was Bai Lin’s style: frumpy.  

    The porcelain tint of her skin was far from that of a boy made to learn out in the sun.  It was care and love lavished upon a daughter by a mother, and a castle full of housemaids who obviously knew the truth.  They also knew that someday the prince would be allowed to live as a princess, so extra care was taken to maintain a soft and youthful appearance.

    Bai Lin didn’t even smell like a man.   Not that Anthem was trying to sniff her or anything.  But there wasn’t much else to the room nor was there a lot of space between the two of them.  As he kept his place by the bedside, his new role of bodyguard being put to the test, he didn’t have much to do but breathe in.  

 It was a sweet smell.  Like a mixture between the smell of brown sugar as it was warmed on the stovetop and the way melon smelled once it was broken open and served for a summer treat.  A mellow kind of fragrance, but with a little extra hiding within.

"Okay… time to stop.”

    His words this time were vocal, his mouth finally taking over from his brain.  However, in his haste, he had shifted from his seat as well, jostling the young princess awake.  Her grunts caught Anthem’s attention and he tried to ease her, shushing and doing things he normally did when his youngest sister was woken up unexpectedly.  "It’s alright, close your eyes.  There’s nothing to worry about.  There was… a bug.  It bit me.  I was startled is all.  No need for you to worry, Bai Lin.  Try to sleep until our captors come to call again.“

    What a horrible lie, he thought to himself.

    "What a horrible lie.” Apparently Bai Lin also thought so.  

    Her small eyes opened slowly, fingers reaching up to wipe away the sand left behind from sleep. “I can tell.  Your voice is changing in tone, like you’re trying to lull a child back to sleep.  I’m not a child.  Or rather, I am, but I’m not.  Please do not speak to me like I’m a suckling child searching for its mother’s teat.”  

 “You’re not speaking the same way you did yesterday.  I would much prefer to hear the harsher words from yesterday.  By the way, I-I’m sorry about what happened.  Almost any o-other prince would have most likely dispatched of me and sent me to live with my ancestors.  I-I’m still scared, b-but you….” She took a breath, sitting up.  "you’ve always been a little different from the others.“

  Looking back at her, he wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or  a subtle jab.  Nor was he going to ask her to elaborate on the subject.  Instead, he just nodded dumbly, standing from the bed and walking over to the water dripping down the wall.  It was easy to get a drink from, his hands cupped beneath the small stream steadily coming in from the mountain.  "I wonder if we’re far from both our kingdoms or if we’re somewhere between.  I think we’re between, but really, I shouldn’t assume.”

    When no answer came, he figured it was easiest to carry on his rambling.  What better way to avoid the awkward than to, well, avoid it? A sharp intake of breath and Anthem was prepared to begin spouting more words when a small hand tapped at his back.

    "Krisanthemum, please believe me when I say that I-I’m sorry this happened.“

    "None of it is your fault.  Please do not feel as if you need to continue to apologize to me.  I am the one who should forever be apologizing to you.  If I had been aware of what lay beneath your shirt, I never would have…” Hello awkward, you’ve come back to visit us, haven’t you? Anthem’s mind began racing again, his brows knitting together.

    "As I said before, your secret is safe, no one will learn from me the secret of Zheng He.  And we would do our best to not discuss it anymore.“ Shaking the water from his hands, he motions towards the empty space in the room.  "There could be someone outside listening.”

    Bai Lin’s face shifted into an expression of fear.  Quickly Anthem shook his head to soothe her.   “I doubt it, as I’ve not heard movement at all since last night.  No guard change.  No guards at all honestly.  I think the are of the mindset that with my teleportation powers hindered, we are no threat to them at all.”

    Speaking of abilities.  "Bai Lin, do you have any abilities of your own?  Something that they might have tried to stop you from using?  I must admit, I know almost nothing of your families bloodline aside from rumors of healing skills.“

    "That…” Her voice fell into a hush, “is mother.  I do not have that skill.  I have a different one that only a few trusted people in our castle know.  There is a black band around my ankle, much like the ones around your hands, so someone close to my parents has had a hand in this.  My magic is also hindered.  Magic that could have gotten us free quite easily.”

    She had answered him without truly answering.  Now he knew she possessed a skill, but she had completely omitted what it which made him curious.  But if he aimed to pry it from her against her will, would she tell him the truth?  Probably not.  "Is it something you inherited from your father then?  My teleportation did not come from either of my parents, it came from somewhere back in the blood line.  I’m the first member of the family to have it in 3 generations.

    Bai Lin smiled at his words. “You sound as if you’re trying to impress me, prince.  W-will you be treating me much differently now that you know the grand secret of my people?  I.. don’t want to be treated too differently.  I-I’m still me.  I’m just… not a prince.”

    "Because of that though, I must treat you differently.“ He motioned her to the wall.  "Come, drink.  We might not have food, but you should at least drink what you can.  Lay back down to rest, I’ll try to figure out a plan.  One has actually been forming in my head since last night.”

    "Oh?“ She stepped closer to the water, drinking some herself before trying to make him elaborate.  "You did not sleep last night?”

    "No.  I made sure that no one came to kill us as we, er, well you, slept.  That’s how I know that there were no guards.“ His smile is fleeting, but Anthem wants to keep Bai Lin comfortable, so he flashes one here and there.  "I tried to remove my bindings with the knife, but it is also enchanted through some sort of spell, it would not cut them no matter how I tried.  So we must try something else.  This plan that I thought of?  This plan will only work if we make it very believable.  But if we do something wrong, it will end horribly.”

    The princess of Zheng He looked at him with a puzzled expression.  "What kind of plan might this be?“

    "Quite simple, really.” Anthem bit at his lip.  "You’re going to kill me.“

[ambitiouslyamanda-blog]

TEN THINGS I LEARNED IN MY FIRST YEAR OF UNIVERSITY — 05.07.17

First year of university was…wild, to say the least. If you’re reading this, you’re probably a senior in high school struggling to grasp an expectation on what post-secondary will be like, shaking in your scared, bewildered little boots. Have no fear; I am about to disclose to you everything you need to know about your first year of university, from the workload to parties to relationships and beyond. If you’d like to know the ten important lessons I learned in my first year of university, read on!

1. Being away from home for the first time is simultaneously awesome and awful.

If you’re moving into a dorm first year like I did, or are simply moving out into an apartment to go to school, be wary that being away from home has its up’s and it’s downs. While the positives include no rules, curfews, or groundings; going wherever you want, whenever you want; and basically, taking your new city by storm with only you in charge, going away from home for your first time also introduces many new responsibilities you haven’t encountered yet, like paying bills, cooking your own meals, and for some, doing your own laundry. First year, I loved my newfound freedom, but learned rather quickly that it’s necessary balance it with grace and care, making sure the most important things like schoolwork and bills were taken care of before I went out to the bar that night.

2. If you’re moving away to university, you will miss your family and shitty small town.

Homesickness is something that happens to everyone who goes to post-secondary, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar. Even I thought I wouldn’t miss the minuscule small town I previously lived in for 6 years and would be perfectly fine without my parents, and I ended up taking the train home the first weekend because I missed them so bad! Truth is, you will miss your parents, siblings, friends, and extended family a lot, especially if you’re travelling too far to visit on weekends and study breaks, so make sure to keep in touch by calling an texting them. Your mom may be hundreds of kilometers across the province, but her sweet, soothing voice is just a ten-digit phone number away.

3. Making friends is much easier than you expect it to be.

When I went away to university, I only knew two people; my roommate, who was my stage manager/good friend in high school, and another girl I went to secondary school with. Safe to say, I was terrified of not being able to make friends due to my obnoxious nature and that I would spend my first year cooped up in my dorm, lonely and bitter. Luckily, this didn’t happen; in fact, I made friends my first day of being at university. I lived on residence, which was the greatest aid to meeting and connecting with people; and to be honest, my residence floor felt like a family to me, and I miss them all tons! I got to meet loads of people during frosh week by doing events and just mingling through my res building, and my academic orientation was also a tremendous help in connecting with people in my program. I know some frosh events and orientations are absolutely abysmal and super lame, but many of the people I was grouped with or had spoken to during these events are still in my life today, either as acquaintances or best friends.

I also want to emphasize that even if you don’t live on res, you can absolutely make friends through your program, campus groups and events, at the gym, or even through study groups. Just do the things you like to do, and you will find someone to connect with.

4. Frat parties are overrated (but good places for booze!)

I’m going to say it – frat parties are kind of  lame and you should not feel obligated to go, even if  all your friends are attending. My rule of thumb is if you have to pay to get into a party, it’s probably not going to be very fun (though there will be ‘free’ booze, so it’s really a balancing act of the pros and cons). Drunk people are obnoxious and impulsive, so visiting parties or going out to crowded bars can easily place you in uncomfortable situations. Be wary of where you’re going, don’t put your drink down out of sight, and always go with another person.

Oh, and please, do not chug your alcohol. You will fucking die if you do.

5. Your schoolwork comes first, and said schoolwork will kick your ass.

University is a social butterfly’s dream, but remember why you’re there to begin with. You need to get your degree, and to do that, you must pass your courses, which requires attending classes and studying your ass off. The jump in workload from high school to university is huge, and preparing yourself for it is important. First year is often considered among upper years to be the easiest out of your four year degree, so take this time to get the best grades you can to improve your GPA in case you bomb a class later in your university career. Studying and finishing up work takes a lot of time, so make sure you plan ahead so you don’t fall behind. If you are overwhelmed with your projects and exams, it’s important to take a step back, breathe, and ask for help if you’re really struggling. Remember – you can retake a class if need be.

6. Professors can either be your best allies or your greatest enemies.

Your teachers in high school probably told you, “your professors aren’t going to baby you like this in university!”, and they’re right. Your professors aren’t going to nag you to hand in your assignments or attend class; they get paid whether you do or you don’t. But most professors do care; and some will undeniably help you get a better grade in their class. Using office hours was something I wish I did more during first year because I absolutely could have used some help when writing essays or studying for exams. A professor is often more than happy to help you improve or send you in the right direction, so don’t be afraid to email them or speak to them after class to schedule an appointment. However, some professors — often the one’s who have to teach hundreds of kids per class — won’t be as helpful. In fact, they can be the least helpful people around, whether it’s treating you like an idiot or being as vague as humanly possible. Feel free to contact TA’s instead of your moody prof for better clarifications.

7. You probably shouldn’t be working a part time job during first year.

Unless you need to do so to pay your bills, I don’t recommend getting a job first year, mostly because your stress levels will be through the roof. If you end up having a steady handle on your school work after your first midterms and have garnered an idea of what your program expects, you can find a weekend job to get some extra cash, but I personally think first year should be about having fun and getting good grades.

8. Drinking and drug use are normalized as all hell in university.

If you were like me and barely drank throughout high school, you will be intrigued to find out that a good 90% of people you meet in university either drink a ton of alcohol or smoke a staggering amount of weed. Sometimes both. While I am someone who drinks probably once a week now, it is important to be open to trying new things but also be safe about it. So no, I’m not telling you to go inject yourself with heroin; I’m saying trying a beer or taking a shot of tequila is perfectly fine. I know most who go into their first year aren’t legal until second semester (in Canada), but I don’t really feel like telling you not to drink because in the end, you’re gonna do whatever the hell you want. Know your limits and again, be aware of your surroundings to ensure your safety.

9.  Finding a relationship should not be a priority!

For some reason, I had envisioned myself meeting the perfect guy first year who would date me and make me ‘happy’ as we traversed coffee shops and listened to avant garde albums together. Safe to say, I was slightly disappointed when that didn’t happen. I want to stress that finding a significant other should not be on your priority list first year (or at any time, really) because you already have so much to focus on. Relationships are sometimes hard, and require a lot of work and energy, which often, you don’t have to spare during the tribulations of freshman year. You have your whole life to fall in love; patience is a virtue.

10. Your health is much more important than school ever will be.

As someone who almost collapsed under the stress and anxiety university brought me, I stand behind the point that before anything else, you need to take care of yourself. Yes, schoolwork is important and social events are fun, but if you’re feeling like you constantly have a weight on your chest or a panic attack every two days, it is important to step back from the stress and get help. Post secondary institutions have mental health initiatives often free for students that include solo, group, or single counselling sessions, along with other things, like stress relieving yoga classes or help lines to call if you’re uncomfortable with professional therapy. If you’re someone privy to catching colds or sicknesses, make sure to let your professors know through emails and academic consideration papers so that you can stay home and rest should you contract something nasty. As someone who wrote three of her exams through bleary eyes, a fever of 101 degrees, no voice, and a nose stuffed to the extreme, I can vouch for the importance of physically taking care of yourself. Indulge in a bath, drink some tea, take a nap, put a face mask on, or even go for a walk — any of these self care practices are important in recharging from the perils of studying and socializing.

There are tons more things I could have disclosed in this article, but these 10 points were the most important for me to state. University is an incredible experience for me so far — and I hope it will be for you as well.

Ambitiously,

Amanda

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