#effie rook

[little-elf-wanders]

Why did Varric let her in the group?

[usagiii666]

Grrrrr <333

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ

[silverhalla]

ohhhh………… oh my rook is a goddess

[killmymind]

if nobody got me i know my german playlist got me can i get an amen 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

[livvyandcaycaytakenselfies]

Making a Twst hunger games AU!! Question for you guys, should I make it a yandere series or not??

Eight districts, one capital.

Capital: Night Raven (Crowley, Crewel, Liv.)

District one: Heartslabyul (Riddle, Trey.)

District two: Savanaclaw (Leona, Ruggie.)

District three: Octavinelle (Azul, Jade.)

District four: Scarabia (Kalim, Jamil.)

District five: Pomefiore (Vil, Rook.)

District six: Ignihyde (Idia, Ortho.)

District seven: Diasomnia (Malleus, Lilia.)

District eight: Ramshackle (Reader, Grim.)

Crowley-Snow based.

Reader-Katniss based.

Grim-Peeta based. (Beastman Grim AU.)

Crewel-Effie based.

Liv-Cinna based. (My OC!)

Iris-Primrose based. (Your sister dear reader!)

Lmk what you think!!

@sagekiosk should I make this a series?? Also, yandere or no?

[lgbtqreads]

hi!! i know this has beeb asked before but not for a while and I thought there might be some releases since then, so : any Queer High Fantasy? I've been recommended Priory of the Orange Tree before. Thank you!!

Not sure when the last time was but here’s what’s currently on my radar! (You can also find these here, and an asterisk means it’s not out yet: https://lgbtqreads.com/sff/spec-fic-by-subgenre/) I bolded some of the ones that are newer or coming out in the next few months.

MG

*Splinter & Ash by Marieke Nijkamp – NB

Sir Callie by Esme Symes-Smith – NB

YA

Female Protags

The Winter Duke by Claire Eliza Bartlett

The Never Tilting World by Rin Chupeco – L

Queen of Coin and Whispers by Helen Corcoran

Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulthurst – L,B

Inkmistress by Audrey Coulthurst – B

The Impostor Queen by Sarah Fine – B

Noble Falling and Noble Persuasion by Sara Gaines

Rule by Ellen Goodlett

Havenfall by Sara Holland

*Hearts Forged in Dragon Fire by Erica Hollis

The Afterward by EK Johnston

Empirium by Claire Legrand – B

Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller – BA

These Feathered Flames by Alexandra Overy

The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski

It Ends in Fire by Andrew Shvarts

Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria – B, A

The Third Daughter and The Second Son by Adrienne Tooley

Shatter the Sky by Rebecca Kim Wells – B

The Thousand Names by Django Wexler

Male Protags

Cloaked in Shadow by Ben Alderson

The Runebinder Chronicles by Alex R. Kahler

Skybound by Alex London

So This is Ever After by F.T. Lukens

Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria

The Sunbearer Trials by Aiden Thomas – T

Non-Binary Protags

Spell Bound by FT Lukens

Mask of Shadows by Linsey Miller – GF

*A Hundred Vicious Turns by Lee Paige O’Brien

Adult

Female Protags

A Broken Blade by Melissa Blair

Tales of Inthya by Effie Calvin

The Vanished Queen by Lisbeth Campbell

Rook & Rose by M.A. Carrick

The Night and its Moon by Piper CJ

The Unbroken by C.L. Clark

*Warmongers by C.L. Clark

The Gardener’s Hand by Felicia Davin

*The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang

Dragonfall by L.R. Lam

The Unspoken Name by A.K. Larkwood

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

From Under the Mountain by C.M. Spivey

The Drowning Empire by Andrea Stewart (Amz)

The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

Malice by Heather Walter

When Women Were Warriors series by Catherine M. Wilson

Male Protags

Kirith Kirin by Jim Grimsley

The Cadeleonian series by Ginn Hale

Tales From Verania by T.J. Klune

A Chorus of Dragons by Jenn Lyons

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

*Dark Moon, Shallow Sea by David R. Slayton

Stagsblood Trilogy by Gideon E. Wood

Genderqueer Protags

*The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang

[thelastofthebookworms]

Poll 1

So far I've received no suggestion of other major couples in (relatively) well-known indie comics and I'm running out of ideas so I'm not sure I'll do another part.

I have other polls about literature, art, etc in my pinned post.

[dandelionlovesyou]

What's sparked the rebellion? Was it Katniss' volunteering for Prim, Rue’s death, the berries, or was it before all of that?

How does many THG victors joined or being recruited for the rebellion?

Thoughts?

Thank you 😊

@curiousnonny

Hi @curiousnonny =)

Warning: I rambled on!

I think it was a series of things and not just one event. I imagined Plutarch answering this question and he would probably say that it was an orchestra or a series of domino blocks. It could also be a chess game that was being played for years. People leave chess boards untouched, you know? The game just stagnates until a move feels right.

For the rebellion, the pieces have been set and the players made their move. Some years the Rebel player got to eat a Capitol pawn, more years Snow got to take out more Rebel pieces. Maybe a rook, a horse, or a bishop, maybe even a queen (District 13). The Rebel player was probably down to only a few pawns and two to three higher-ranking pieces, but it was mostly pawns. When Katniss came into the picture, I imagined her as a pawn making its way to the other end of the board without Snow noticing it. He was too busy nailing the Rebel king. But lo and behold Katniss (the rogue and brave pawn) reached the other end and got to resurrect a queen. She was the queen and wreaked havoc in the chess match. I don’t know if I make sense here. It’s moves and counter-moves done at the right time with the right piece.

Katniss has this series of events in her life that led her to become the Mockingjay. If I look at her biography, I could even say that her whole life was leading her to become this symbol of the Rebellion. She was the daughter of a Seam-Merchant family -- something rebellious on its own. She was raised to know both worlds while living in the Seam (she’s in touch with the poorest of the poor). She got to go out to the woods, something that not everyone got to do. She ended up loving it, because hey, what child wouldn’t love an adventure? She experienced love growing up, and the possibilities of what a better life could be if you have loving and devoted parents. But tragedy had to strike, teaching her another lesson and moving her mightily forward at age twelve. But she wasn’t totally left hanging because she still found hope in the form of a blonde boy with the bread. The image of Peeta sustained her, add to this the constant love of her father that she carried everywhere. Katniss did say that he father seemed to be everywhere she went. Katniss volunteering for Prim was of the love that she learned from her parents. She was motherly (though she wouldn’t admit it). Yes, it was maybe from circumstance too, because she had to, but I think it was more because she had love cultivated in her heart at a young age. What she did for Rue was the same. Same for Peeta all throughout. Same for Gale at the whipping post. Same for Effie when she apologized after an outburst. Same for meeting the injured in District 8. Katniss loved and moved with that love that she didn’t fully understand.

Katniss thought outside the box and moved willfully and with passion. All of these led to the berries, standing up for Gale at the whipping post, shooting the force field, “If we burn, you burn” lines, shooting Coin, singing for all of Panem to see in the propos, and more. She didn’t know the full extent of the effect she had. It was Peeta who did. Also Haymitch, Cinna, Plutarch, Coin, and Snow.

On the other victors being part of the rebellion, I think those in the outlying districts were part of it even from before the 74th games. They couldn’t do much except during the times of the games because that was when they could be mobilized between districts. Snow suppressed communication and transportation. His strategy was to cut off everyone from each other so they couldn’t unify as one. That was probably the biggest hindrance to the uprising.

Thank you for the ask @curiousnonny!

[briarfox13]

Effie Rook, Marine and Deputy 

Finally decided on a name and look for my Deputy when I get Far Cry 5 <3 

[hahahax30]

Does someone have any theories as to what happened to the mundane servants (and their families) when they were laid off? We know that tid had servants, and that these came from lines of mundanes, but they don't have them anymore; pretty much like what happened with mundane society in itself.

Could this mean that the next generations gradually forgot about the shadow world? That they are part of the few mundanes who know about the nephilim, and that people like Johnny Rook are descendants of tid/tlh's servants?

Crack theory: Effie is Kit's great great great great grandmother

[little-elf-wanders]

I just realised how bad Effie and Solas are going to interact.

Like, they will straight up not agree, and this time it isn't even because I just don't like him - because there's potential for him to further explain what he meant with his plans and for me to change my mind if it makes sense, however, so far all we have to go off of doesn't paint him in a good light. No matter what romanticists say to defend him. We don't have the facts. Specifically for a Rook. It paints him very much as destroying the world. Multiple characters have reacted like that's what he's doing, the biggest example being Varric himself when he outright says it in the comic. So those of us who aren't reading into every little comment he made takes it for what he said it as. Which hasn't been much. And it's pretty alarming of a concept without absolute assurances. I don't take his 'lol trust me' message well, because I don't trust him.

But what I know for a fact is Effie's Mournwatch beliefs directly conflict with Solas's. And it'll be interesting to see if that has any weight in game.

They both care about spirits, that's about the biggest connection they have. The issue is they both have differing views on how that care takes place.

Solas, of course, created the Veil, but he hasn't been around to properly see what it does with spirits in this world. We see a reaction to mages binding a demon like it's the first time he's seen it. He's reactive and horrified - one Mortalitisi he even killed somewhere else, though I believe it was because of an idol they were using and for making a wisp stir their tea. Fair play to him with idol tampering and knowing abuse of a spirit.

He's seeing spirits be twisted against their nature and it is his fault. The mages doing the binding are people who don't have the same understanding of how spirits operate, though, so you can't under any circumstance blame them for thinking they're doing what was taught to them is alright. You cannot kill those mages in blind anger for not knowing what you know.

When confronting the mages, he tells them he's not helping them. Tell me why the fuck it's an ego brush he prefers about being smarter and not 'He's right, there's something about this you don't know!'

The rifts are opening everywhere spitting out demons, and they are terrified, they are hunted by rogue Templars in a mage/templar war that left a lot of angry outliers, and his only thought to them not knowing other than doing what Circles taught them is they deserve death? If they knew better sure, but very clearly they did not.

I'm showing this because Solas is extremely knowledgeable and could have chosen to teach that spirits are different from demons and that pulling one from the fade and binding it just warps it against its nature, then shown them how it went back to being a spirit. I'm aware this was his friend, so some aggression and reactiveness is understandable. But tell me why there wasn't an option to talk him down? Or to have the option to give him a way to see that some people don't understand? It was simply 'let him murder these people for which he'll love you, or disagree and he'll hate it.' And I'm not sympathetic to that at all, I would have respected him more if we got given literally any other reaction besides murder them for his approval. The mages were scared and upset, that isn't a reason to murder them. Were they wrong? YES. Obviously. But it could have been something so much fucking more. Lavellan knows this. Or she should.

Now back to Effie. We know this about Solas, she does not. The thing is, the Mournwatch seems to respect the dead. And spirits. Maybe not all of them hold those views like a certain Mortalitisi but I'm going into this believing Effie certainly does, and I suspect Emmrich does too given Manfred. She believes when someone dies a spirit is shunted from the fade. If this is true? Effie will be furious at Solas for creating the Veil without a shred of thought for it just to use the spirits as an excuse to break it. He cares more about the spirits than people. His own people are just the exception but you can't threaten what he has and only accept some. I'm curious how this might play out, if it does at all.

His biggest aim was to lock away the gods, but it completely disrupted how Thedas now operates, including how it grew - and how some countries have zero information to work with because they fear the unknown. While some respect it, like Nevarra and Rivain. Even Avvar hold a huge respect for spirits. Effie see's it as part of the ecosystem, now - which might be a wrong thought to have but those spirits are now part of that and have been for long enough there will be a significant issue or problem if it's suddenly removed. And that's entirely Solas's doing. Maybe I'm wrong to believe there'll be an issue, a magic fix it seems anticlimactic when they've built up his whole scheme to be apocalyptic.

So, if he gets mad at how the Mournwatch find the spirits suitable bodies and handle the supernatural issues from said spirits going berserk, she's fully going to tell him he's the reason why they need to find them bodies in the first place and he doesn't get to judge or break it because it's hard to stomach. They do this so they DON'T turn into demons.

And that maybe there's some other way to fix it that doesn't involve shady ass schemes and with-holding vital information that could change how systems do teach these subjects. But I don't know. She loves spirits more than people, she appears apathetic to people but she doesn't want them to bloody explode or be ripped apart.

[thebridgehqs]

members current mw?

We've had two people ask this, so I'll answer you both! If you ever want to know who's wanted from a specific fandom, we can be a lot more help!

Octavia Blake, Clarke Griffin, Lincoln (The 100), the Knights of Saint Christopher (The Order), Prue, Piper, Phoebe Halliwell, Paige Matthews (Charmed), Maleficent (Disney), Mal, Evie, Carlos (Descendants), Anakin, Ben and Jaina Solo, Din Djarin, Bodhi Rook (Star Wars), Lois Lane, Lana Lang, Lex Luthor (Smallville), Joe West, Mon-El, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, James Olsen, Nia Nal, Mick Rory, Zari Tazari/Tomaz, Amaya Jiwe (Arrowverse), Buffy and Dawn Summers, Willow Rosenberg, Angel, Spike, Tara Maclay, Wesley Wyndham Pryce, Gunn (Buffyverse), Ned, Sansa, Robb, Bran, Catelyn, Rickon Stark, Daenerys Targaryen, Ygritte, Sam Tarly, Jaime and Tyrion Lannister, Margaery Tyrell (Game of Thrones), Lila and Cooper Barton, Logan Howlett, Scott Summers, Lorna Dane, Ikarus, Phastos, Gilgamesh, Thor Odinson, T'challa, Bruce Banner (Marvel), Gale Hawthorne, Effie Trinket, Johanna Mason, Maysilee Donner (The Hunger Games), Jesse, Abby, Maria, Marlene, Lev, Tess, Tommy (The Last Of Us)

[coldshrugs]

14, 34, or 46 for anyone who's NOT Effie or Alma!

life goes on, but i'm gone

featuring: agent rebecca greene (implied rebecca/rook) word count: 545 note: CW for death mention, obviously. rebecca mourns badly.

Most days are numb.

Most days are a blur of minutiae; ballpoint pens scraping against paper, manila envelopes passed across tables, quiet engine roars over wheels speeding off to someplace insignificant. Someplace unknown to her.

Places where she’s unknown too.

In these towns, Rebecca can take off the suit and replace it with something more casual. She can let her hair, long and almost wavy, hang around her shoulders where his arm used to fall. The weight of “used to” is heavier with each passing day, and carrying it is not a choice so much as a sentence.

The load lightens when she gets to be a tourist in Nowhere Town, USA. She wanders through unfamiliar shop-lined streets that look unsettlingly similar to Wayhaven but shifted three feet to the left. She belongs here and doesn��t. She doesn’t know where she is, so who she is can slip away for a moment.

She’s not a bureaucrat playing at field agent tasks. She doesn’t know some of the biggest secrets in the world. She hasn’t just received a pity promotion to handle a team of vampires. She’s not an absent single mother. She’s not a widow.

She can stand to spend more than a weekend with her daughter, whose eyes are perfect replicas of Rook’s.

She’s not numb.

Her husband and child are both alive, happy, and they don’t miss her because she’s not gone. At least not for long.

A shop window, glowing golden and punched through with haphazard strings of holiday lights, catches her attention. Wooden letters covered in shimmering red and green glitter spell out “The Season For Giving” above a cozily manufactured scene of a Christmas tree surrounded by beautifully wrapped gifts.

Is it Christmas already? She barely measures time. Most days are a blur.

“‘The season for unnecessary debt,’ more like,” she says aloud and to no one, but he answers anyway.

“Don’t be such a grinch, Becks. Let’s get something for the tree.”

Rebecca nods, to no one again, or maybe to her reflection in the glass.

Inside, she buys the ornament--she doesn’t know how to choose, and Rook was always better at domesticity, so it’s a total guess--and the clerk doesn’t give her that knowing, sad smile everyone else does. They wrap the bauble in brightly-colored tissue and place it into a delicate gift box.

“For someone special?” They ask, and it’s the first small talk anyone’s attempted with Rebecca in months.

She smiles. The tightness of the unused muscles must show on her face from the way the clerk’s brow knits. “Yes, for my daughter... and my husband.”

Rebecca makes her way back to the dark, discreet agency car and tucks the package into the trunk. In the driver's seat, she pins her hair into the tidiest bun she can manage with only a rear-view mirror. 

When she arrives at the next facility, she leaves everything in the car. The ornament, the tears, the part of her that is a tourist in her own life. She can’t take it with her, or she will break.

She reads a bone-dry report. She scratches through a note, rewrites it in meticulous print. She doesn’t talk about the very human way she misses her family.

The days are numb. 

[killmymind]

giant rooks are the fucking coolest Hi.

[fereality-indy]

Capcom puts you in charge of overseeing the next Street Fighter game. What characters are in your initial line-up, what new characters are you adding (you can use general archetypes like a blind gypsy), and what makes your entry far superior than the others? *great big squishy Hadoken hugs*

Interesting… Hmm… Well to start there would be two separate games SF VI Delta Dawn & SF VI Omega Break. One story would follow most of the old guard in a tournament held by the returning Shadaloo.The other would have the younger fighters be part of a tournament held by Kanzuki Zaibatsu. And if you have both games on a system the storylines connect and a new boss storyline with Gill is unlocked. _____ Shadaloo returns to prominence, but Bison is not in charge. Ingrid has taken over after being corrupted by the psycho-power she absorbed from him in SF Alpha 3 MAX. Joining her would be Vega, Rolento, Balrog, & Decapre. I might also include the other three ‘Code Holders’ DD, Rook, & Death. They also have the Dolls (with three/four new ones to replace Decapre and those that defected – Juli, Juni, & Noembelu). F.A.N.G. would have stayed loyal to Bison and in a semi-abandoned lab rebuilt a smaller psycho-drive to repower Bison. So yeah, sort of a Shadaloo civil war going on in the background of the game. Ed & Falke are joined in the Neo-Shadaloo by Abel as he senses the familial connection. They continue to work towards undoing Shadaloo’s evils. Maybe add Necro & Effie to the group. SF VI Delta Dawn – Ryu, Ken Masters, Zangief, Chun Li, Guile, Cody, Guy, Dhalsim, Cammy White, Rose, Ed, Falke, Abel, Necro, Dudley, Juli, Dee Jay, E. Honda, Sagat, Q, & Crimson Viper. With the Shadaloo characters (Ingrid, Vega, Rolento, Balrog, Decapre, maybe a Doll or two, F.A.N.G., & Bison) would be unlockable. ~~~~~~~~~ Kanzuki Zaibatsu story has Karin Kanzuki, Birdie, Rainbow Mika, & Eagle representing the corporation. S.I.N. is also moving along in the background as a separate group led by Juri Han & Seth. Blade, F7, Arkane, & Khyber from the movie game would make their first appearances in the main series as S.I.N. soldiers. SF VI Omega Break – Sakura, Elena, Ibuki, Yun, Yang, El Fuerte, Sean Matsuda, Laura Matsuda, Maki, Alex, Shin, Zeku, Menat, Dan Hibiki, Rufus, Akira, Makoto, Fei Long, Adon, & Tracy Lords (from Rival Schools). As with the DD story the Kanzuki Zaibatsu and S.I.N. fighters are unlockable. 

Each storyline would have segments referencing the other. Unlocked characters would be usable in either game And if you had both would lead up to where Gil is manipulating events. With Gill’s Secret Society is around with Urien, Kolin, Charlie Nash, & Twelve would be added into the mix. 

Other returning World Warriors that could be downloaded would include Blanka, T. Hawk, Poison, Hugo, Abigail, Akuma, Oro, Rashid, Makati, Gouken, Gen, Juni, G, Remy, Hakan, Oni, Necalli, Kage, & Lucia. I would attempt to get the EX characters to return: Blair Dame, Cracker Jack, Skullomania, Pullum Purna, Kairi, Darun Mister, Hokuto, Allen Snider, Garuda, Gouki, Cycloid γ, Cycloid ß, Hayate, Sharon, Shadowgeist, Doctrine Dark, Vulcano Rosso, Nanase, Area, Ace, etc. I would also try to get the Ryu Ranger and Rising Phoenix Ranger forms of Ryu & Chun Li from the Power Rangers Battle for the Grid game. 

As for new characters, well Delta Dawn would have: Hoss, a new redneck overalls wearing Sumo fighter loosely based on a character from one of the tabletop RPG supplements. Malcolm, a Scottish born mma fighter that dresses like he was competing at a highlands game. Dr. Antone Metze, a German acupressure practitioner and jeet kun do fighter who usually is in a turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and slacks. And Lorena Parra, a Chilean judoka in capris and a knit sweater. Omega Break would include: Pia Rendón, a master of Kali in an a-shirt & cargo pants. Bryce, a Canadian lumberjack trained in Native American Wrestling. Harbinger, a special forces trained Merc. The bookish, teenage Brazilian sumo Áurea Ramos. And the Australian brawler Isla Cox.

[everlarkficexchange]

Unmasked ~ Nine

Written by: ~ M ~

Prompt #88

Rating: E (Explicit) This fic will contain consensual sexual content; mild language; discussions of injuries, illness, and amputations in a historical setting; discussions of miscarriage; discussions of minor character suicide; references to non consensual sexual situations.

My thanks to the moderators of @everlarkficexchange for always running an entertaining event, and for playing along with a little fun and mystery. Please enjoy the ninth chapter of this adventure. Previous installments can be found here. Regards,

~ M ~

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

~~ Chapter 9 ~~

In the coming days, I have little time for leisure. I am furthermore unable to decide what preparations are necessary for the arrival of my betrothed. Etiquette dictates that we put forth the best Everdeen has to offer. I do not see the point. The man I am to marry has already accused me of fortune hunting. He expects some disrepair and would likely question the presence of too much luxury or well being. Let him see then what he no doubt believes of me – gentile poverty and desperation drove my actions in the Capitol.

There is also the small matter that I have no desire to impress him. Why should I? This marriage is not a celebration but an unfortunate necessity. And he has seen me covered in mud after all.

My mother is appalled when I override several of her mandates, lessening the preparations to what one might be able to get away with your closest of friends paying a last minute visit — someone who knows every detail of your life and shall not pass judgement if a few things are neglected, so long as they are welcomed with love. In truth, I am inviting Peeta’s judgement. It would give me cause to hate him more.

“We are not welcoming a prince, Mother. Please cease wasting everyone’s time on pointless chores.”

She fumes silently and motions for poor Hannah to continue polishing silver fixtures in the house that no one has noticed before and that I doubt Peeta will notice unless it is to comment on our financial situation like the bastard he is. I almost wish my mother would return to weeping over my father’s bedside if that would give me peace.

When I do find leisure time, I spend it with Madge, Maysilee, and my sister. They are a solace of joy and laughter in the chaos of my thoughts. Every day Madge spends here, she grows more beautiful, freer with her words and laughter. I cannot help but compare my situation to hers. She is resurrected after being freed from the shackles of an unwanted marriage while I am facing my doom in entering one.

Other times, I pore over the letters that Effie and Haymitch have sent from town since I left them. Hers carry a bright enthusiasm as she details all the reactions to the altered announcement, the many visitors she has had and all of the well wishes for a happy marriage for me. She effuses repeatedly at how she so looks forward to my wedding. It rings so bright as to sound false to my eyes as I read. I know she cannot be happy at the idea of my binding myself to a bastard, nor at the turn of events after her own insistence that Sir Robert was clearly besotted with me.

Clearly he was not.

Haymitch’s letters carry a different sort of message entirely. Faced with the certainty of my upcoming vows to Mr. Peeta Mellark, Haymitch has embarked on a quest for knowledge, which I likely should have done rather than departing town in such haste. Haymitch writes of a different sort of courtship, one between a man and a father figure to the girl he wishes to marry. Haymitch writes accounts of Peeta’s conduct in my absence, their many conversations, and peppered in between anecdotes are more personal details that make it clear to me… Haymitch has hired a man to investigate my betrothed and discover his secrets.

I can find nothing to persuade me this match will be a disaster. His finances are sound. No debts, no disturbing addictions, no reports of uncontrolled temper, no mistresses even. My only complaint is that I was required to pay more attention whilst playing chess these past few weeks as your affianced is quite the strategist. No bourbon with a pleasant chess match in the evenings for me when Mr. Mellark sits across the board, unfortunately. I must have my wits about me or suffer pathetic losses. In fact, the only secret he seems to harbor is not much of a secret at all — the truth of his parentage — although I’ve not been able to ascertain the identity of his birth mother, so perhaps there is a secret there, but the basic nature of his parentage is common knowledge. Overall, he is most forthcoming with his life with the Mellark family when asked and my investigations confirm all of what he has told me. I recommend you ask him yourself at the first opportunity.

Katniss, my dear girl, I am endeavoring to say that you could do much worse where husbands are concerned. He is as distraught over the circumstances of your engagement as are you. In support of this, I have received several reports of discord in his father’s home that have led me to believe this engagement has cause a rift of sorts within the family. Be at ease and attempt to make the best of your situation. You set out to gain a fortune to support yourself and your sister. You have done that. Your betrothed is now nearly as wealthy as the rest of his clan, legitimately born or not. There is no need for you to cause more trouble. You and he have more in common that could unite you than you realise.

Tell my sister I shall see her soon, and tell your father he’s the devil to pay for what I’ve endured in his stead, if he ever wakes.

~ Uncle Haymitch.

Haymitch’s words annoy me at first reading, then strangely enough bring me marginal relief on second or third perusal. Perhaps my future is not so bleak as I’d imagined. Yet, it is not enough to prevent the final break in my composure.

A guest room is prepared for Peeta, but I also find myself tripping over servants and my mother in my own room two days before my betrothed is expected. The rook is in complete disarray, my belongings shoved into boxes and crates and set aside to allow room for the work being done.

“What is the meaning of this?” I ask and my mother leads me aside so that the maids may continue without her.

“I dare not move your father from his room in his health. Until other arrangements can be made, you and your husband will have to share your chambers for some time after the wedding. For now while we make the changes to your room, you can sleep with Madge.”

“I cannot share a room with him!” I gape at the bed where I so often felt safe and shall soon feel betrayed, and then at my mother as she scowls at me, opening her mouth to no doubt lecture me. I am saved by a servant with a query for her and flee the room before I am presented with any more reminders of the upheaval in my future.

This one is intensely personal. In all my time of bemoaning my fate and nursing my fury at Peeta for trapping me in this situation, I had not even considered the expectations that now loom over my body.

I escape to the woods. The world seems to shrink around me as I consider the ramifications of my actions and curse my own stubborn naïveté. Madge’s words about not wanting my marriage to be like hers rise up to taunt me.

I’ve no idea what Peeta will expect on our wedding night. Likely he will expect what all grooms assume as their rights. My body, my submission. Here I planned to say the vows and be done with it as soon as he arrived and now, confronted with the likely path of events for that choice, I find myself regretting it. We are still strangers, Peeta and I. Haymitch’s findings aside, I know so little of the man I am expected to spend my life with that I cannot fathom giving myself over to him in such an intimate way.

Except… Peeta himself expressed a wish to wait.

Time. Yes, time is what I need and if he is willing to grant it, I shall take it. At least a little time to better prepare myself.

Resolved, I am able to stand and manage to even hunt a little as well as set a few snares for smaller animals.

*************************

The changes wrought to my room over the next few days do little to assuage my concerns. If anything, they heighten them. New furniture has been added, and several of the furnishings as well as nearly all of the linens have been replaced. The light, airy, welcoming feel of my girlhood chambers has vanished on the fragrant summer breeze that enters through the window and sweeps away any innocence left in my mind. It is now the room of a married woman.

I escape to the woods as I always have, uncaring that I now risk missing entirely the arrival of my betrothed. Let him fumble with the introductions to my family and let them see what a brute and bastard he is, I fume, ignoring Haymitch’s analysis of Peeta’s character. What would my uncle know? He is a man and views Peeta’s character as a man would, not as a woman would.

I linger far too long in the woods, but excuse the lapse in my manners with the success of my hunt. We shall have an excellent dinner as shall the servants. They deserve it for all the hard work they’ve accomplished the past weeks, not only in preparing for our guests but also for their diligent care of my father.

“There’s a brace of rabbits and two ducks in the bag, Horatio. See them cleaned and to the kitchen?”

“Yes Miss.” I peel off my gloves and use my sleeve to wipe sweat from my brow. The week has turned blazing hot. No sign of rain in several days has me worried about several of the more delicate herbs we grow. “There is lemonade if you would like a glass. Countess and Miss Primrose have taken several to the verandah already to keep watch for our guests.”

“Thank you, Horatio.” I smile at the lad and help myself to a cup of the tart drink before walking slowly to the verandah. I am a mess at the moment, hair falling from what began as a careful braid, wrapped and pinned tightly to my scalp. Thick strands now stick to my neck, soaked in sweat. Dirt and blood grace the folds of my skirt and it is entirely possible that I have some on my face as well. I’ve perspired straight through the fabric and am certain it shows beneath my arms. I rub at my shoulder where an ache and an itch has settled, and pausing at the edge of the shaded stone area, smile at the sight that greets me.

Primrose and Maysilee play while Madge looks on, sipping her lemonade. Mary sits working diligently on some mending. All four of them wear smiles on their faces and laugh at Maysilee as she chatters on, twirling a flower in her pudgy toddler fingers and squealing about an insect that lands on the petals.

Content and happy. This is how I wish them to remain, without weighty cares. That is for me to bear, not them. This reminder of what is to be gained soothes the agitation I have felt the past few days as I watched the preparations for the arrival of Miss Everdeen’s betrothed. The servants, unaware of the circumstances of our engagement, have worked themselves into an excitement I cannot bear to contain nor hope to control. They are convinced it must be a great love match, given the speed with which it occurred. After all, my parents were a love match.

They believe my marriage will bring such a blessing on our household that will surely mean the turn of fortune for us all. Health for my father, a bountiful harvest. Would that I could promise them such a thing. I cannot, but the spark of hope already burns deep in their hearts. I do not wish to smother it.

“Oh! Look!” Prim exclaims and hurries to the low wall surrounding the verandah.

“What is it?” Madge asks.

“Dust in the lane! He’s here! Mary! Tell Katniss and Mother that he’s here!”

Mary scurries to put her mending away and curtsies as she passes by me, a wide smile on her face as my sister leans over the wall to catch a glimpse. I do not need one. I am already aware of what he looks like on a horse and make my way to the door instead.

Well I suppose there are worse things than greeting my fiance covered in dirt, sweat, and entrails. It is not like I am usually at my best when he sees me anyways.

“Oh, Katniss…should you change your dress or…freshen up a bit?” my mother asks as she meets me at the door. She eyes my appearance and seems appropriately scandalised. I lift my nose and glide outside the house to greet him.

“I think not.” He may as well be reminded first off of what sort of wife he’s getting. I shall not change for him.

Cicero comes to a plodding halt, and dips his head once, shaking his grey mane. If I expected them to dismount at the house, I was sorely mistaken.

“Miss Everdeen,” Peeta says with an incline of his head, and a small, ridiculous shiver runs through me as I curtsy. His mouth twitches and I cannot be certain if he’s laughing or frowning at me with his eyes obscured in the shadows created by his hat. I glare up at him and spit out my words.

“Welcome to Everdeen, Mr. Mellark. Won’t you dismount?”

“Momentarily.” He nods once then looks past me. “You must be Mrs. Everdeen.”

“Yes,” my mother steps forward and from the back of his horse, Peeta manages to take her hand in his. At some sort of silent command, Cicero bends his front legs in imitation of a bow. Peeta mirrors the motion, bending at his torso over my mother’s hand like some knight of old.

“An honour to meet you, madame. Peeta Mellark at your service.”

“Oh,” my mother says, her cheeks turning pink in a way that is not caused by heat nor by the sun. I grind my teeth together and step forward to end this nonsense.

“Will you not dismount and come inside?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“We will see to our horses first, if that is alright.” It is then that I notice Joe, astride his dark brown with an impertinent grin on his face as he tips his hat to me. My hands wish for a bow and a swift arrow, but I manage to nod in agreement and stand back as they depart for the stables.

“My goodness, he is a handsome one,” my mother breathes as they ride toward the stable, her eyes fixed on Peeta’s back. “He takes after Reginald in looks but his manner of speaking…there’s something different and yet so pleasant about it… Where did you say he was educated?”

“I don’t believe he has been. He’s not a legitimate son,” I say and my mother spins to gape at me. My cheeks heat and I glance down at the ground. “Everything went so wrong, Mama. I do not know what to do.”

“Oh Katniss. I do not think it has all gone wrong at all,” she says and then laughs, winding an arm around me and turning me back towards the house. “Whatever it is, it is certainly salvageable.”

“Then… you are not scandalised?”

“Absolutely not. Surprised, yes. Scandalised, I should think not. Your Peeta had no control over the manner of his birth. No choice in the matter at all. The only thing he has control over is what manner of man he is.” My mother leans back and cranes her neck, as though seeking another glimpse of him. She chuckles and turns back to me as a scowl takes over my face. “And thus far, he appears to be a fine man indeed. He could not take his eyes from you and did not even balk at your ghastly appearance.”

“He was perhaps wondering why he agreed to marry such a wretch. Or dare I hope he actually felt apprehension at my fearsome appearance,” I mutter and my mother laughs. The sound courses through me like sweet wine.

“No darling, I think not. He may take after Reginald in the shape and colour of his features, but that look in his eyes is not one his father ever displayed, to my knowledge.”

“You are imagining things where they do not exist,” I tell her sadly. I do not know why it is now that all of this spills from me as Mother walks with me up the stairs towards my room, not father’s. Perhaps I’ve held it in so long that it cannot be helped. Or perhaps I have indeed, truly missed my mother. She has seemed so absent recently, in her preoccupation first with my father and then with preparations for my wedding. “He only agreed to marry me to protect his brother from scandal.”

“You did not mention that,” Mother says and purses her lips as I scramble for words. She shakes her head and waves it away before I can manage to utter a single coherent syllable. “Perhaps that was one of his motivations, but men recover quite easily from scandal. It gives them an air of mystery and danger. They do not marry for such a small thing as that.” I stare at her and she gives me a secretive smile. “Unless I am a blind fool, protecting his brother was not his only motivation for agreeing to marry you, Katniss.”

I sputter and lay a hand over my stomach to control the writhing of nerves and feelings. Before I can work up a proper hysteria or denial at what her words might mean, before I can insist to her that he hates me, she speaks again.

“Where did his scars originate from?”

“I do not know exactly. He spent some time in the infantry.”

“Hmmm, that is likely the source. Does he know of yours, darling?”

“I…no,” I admit and duck my head to hide my expression. “I never found occasion nor reason to tell him.”

Unless Robert told him or… or perhaps Peeta spoke the truth and it was him at the masquerade. But that is such a quagmire in my head still that I am not ready to speak of it with anyone. I still have not even told Madge of Peeta’s preposterous claim.

“No matter. I doubt it shall bother him at all.”

I think back on our last conversation, on his insistence that it was he at the masquerade, the soft touch of his fingers between mine and the warmth that even now seeps into my blood at the memory of touch, how he wanted to speak with me alone before we signed the contracts, and even what Madge said about how viewing it as the past, she thinks that Peeta showed more interest in me than Robert. And how I once again find myself in a position of knowing little to nothing about the man I am to marry, only this time, there will be no masquerade to loosen our guard.

I nod to my mother despite my lingering doubts and enjoy her soft smile as she kisses my cheek.

“Though you may wish to tell him before the wedding night. Now, change and wash your face, attempt some order with that hair, and I will see our guests settled in time for tea.” I watch her a moment as she departs, humming slightly to herself and I wonder at the change in her.

************************

I send word for Peeta to join me in the study once he has had time to freshen up from his travels then abscond to the room I have been sharing with Madge that I might do the same. When I am ready to face the coming battle, I march to the study only to find him already there and waiting for me. I stand in the doorway and watch him, hands folded behind his back as he wanders down the line of shelves heavy with books. He pauses at one title and tilts his head. I gather my skirts and interrupt before he takes on some fool notion that all of this shall be his.

“Mr. Mellark, I trust your journey was pleasant.”

“Quite,” he answers and turns to face me as I move to put the large, imposing desk between us. We’ve not been alone since that day in the gardens, when he made his preposterous claim in regards to the masquerade. I feel as though I have lived a thousand years since then and do not wish to lose my wits for what I am about to say.

“We have matters to discuss,” I say as he comes to stand on the other side of the desk. I lift my chin, pleased with this arrangement, the reminder to him that he is a guest here, and not a wholly welcome guest.

“Shall we skip the idle chit chat then?”

“I think that the best course.”

“By all means then, Miss Everdeen, cut to the heart and let us be done with it. You’ve already made it quite clear you do not wish to marry me, so no need to repeat that.”

“You are a stranger to me yet, Mr. Mellark.”

“Not as much of a stranger as you think.”

“So you still hold to that ridiculous claim?”

“Why is it so ridiculous?”

“Ridiculous or not, it means that I cannot trust you. You have already lied to me at least once.” At this, he has the dignity to hang his head.

“Indeed I have no defense for that other than it was done in protection of someone I care for deeply.”

“What am I to believe, Mr. Mellark? If it was in fact you behind that mask, then how much of what you said was in the name of the act? How much of it was you pretending to be Sir Robert and how much of it was truth–”

“I did not speak a single lie that night at the masquerade,” he says and lifts his eyes to mine. They flash with a warmth and near anger that nearly overwhelms me. I stagger back a step and then regroup. “I attempted to emulate my brother and failed horribly. The only falsehood in it was in allowing you to believe that I was Robert, not myself.”

“It does not matter,” I insist. “What matters is that if it was you, you knowingly and purposely deceived me that night, and if it was not you, you outright lie in trying to claim it was. To what purpose, I cannot fathom, but either way, you have deceived me and therefore, I cannot trust you.”

“And what of you, madame? Can you swear that all of your actions in regards to my brother were honest?”

“That is none of your concern. It is between Sir Robert and myself.”

“I think it is of my concern seeing as how I am now the one who will be speaking vows with you.”

“We are clearly not going to agree on this matter.” I sit in the chair and stubbornly pull papers in front of me, hot fury boiling inside me at his insinuations that I somehow misled Robert. He knew precisely what sort of marriage I expected. I played no games with his heart.

Except that I went to that masquerade with intentions to kiss him…or court him in a way, and he eloped after. I rub my temples and sigh, unsure of myself and how to handle this tricky matter. Peeta echoes the sound and sits opposite me, his hand rubbing his left thigh as if it pains him.

“You are quite right, Miss Everdeen.”

“Am I?” I ask with a soft snort.

“I set out to protect Robert and yet my motivations became…confused and entangled along the road. I cannot remove the deceptions that already exist between us nor erase any hurt I may have caused you in the process. I can only hope to prove to you through time and devotion that I am worthy of your trust.” His words stun me and our eyes lock. His seem so sad and sincere, almost pleading. “We are to be married, whether you and I wish it or not at this point. I do not wish to spend our lives locked in eternal combat over this or any matter.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“If we could…acknowledge what has happened yet not linger on it then perhaps we could build a sort of alliance.”

“An alliance,” I test out the word and lean towards him, the wood of the desk pressing into my chest. “How would this alliance proceed, Mr. Mellark?”

“You’ve need of funds, I assume to keep Everdeen flourishing and to care for your father. You’ve also need of security in the event of his passing. Your mother, your sister, the countess and her charming daughter – all people who rely on you for a home that I assume will be snatched from beneath your feet upon his death. I can provide both of those.”

My cheeks flame and I nod. “Have you an estate that we might call home?”

“I do not,” he says and gives me a strange sort of smile. “The Marquis had no qualms providing me with funds and a commission, but lands are the inheritance of a gentleman. Not his bastard son.”

I manage not to cringe at his speech nor think of the uncharitable thoughts I have prescribed to him given his birth. Pity for him will not do. I need to establish the path forward first.

“The money should be enough to buy us some time,” he offers.

Us. The word hangs in the air between us, an invitation to an accord.

“Miss Everdeen, I have spent my days in a household of an unhappy marriage where the husband and wife are at constant odds. It is…toxic to growth and difficult for everyone around them. Never knowing what is acceptable to one party or the other when sometimes the husband makes decisions merely for the sake of angering the wife and vice versa. I do not wish to continue in such a home after our marriage, and I imagine that you do not either.”

I hesitate in answering, although I already know he speaks the truth. Did I not just think this morning on how happy and carefree my sister and Madge appeared, how I longed to maintain that for them? I cannot do that if I am constantly at war with my own husband, regardless of how our engagement came to be. I nod once and he smiles.

“I knew you were not so cruel,” he says, soft and warm as my cheeks heat inexplicably. “You care far too much for their well being for that.”

At this he nods towards the windows which overlook the garden. A timely laugh reaches my ears to solidify our understanding of one another.

“I will not bow to your dictates on how to run Everdeen,” I say, searching for firm footing in this strange new land.

“I would not ask you to. I have no expertise on the running of an estate. That was not a future I was educated for, although I would like to change that to a degree. I wish to help, to be an asset and an active participate in this alliance, not a burden. And I cannot stand the thought of being idle.”

I tilt my head and wonder at the concessions he makes so easily. “How long did you wish to wait to say the vows?”

“However long you wish to wait. I would take months to court you properly, if you would grant them to me.” The heat spreads from my cheeks down my neck. “I sense however, that while you might have doubts about an immediate union, your father’s health dictates some haste.”

“Perhaps a week then,” I offer and he nods once. I stand and he rises to bow. Despite the lies still between us, it is the first real flicker of hope that I feel sparking to life in my breast. “In the meantime, perhaps you should acquaint yourself with your future home.”

“Nothing would give me more pleasure.” A small shiver runs down my spine and I scowl slightly. It would not do for me to fall ill at such a time as this. I shall need to speak to Mrs. Chilton about the temperatures in the house.

************************

I have heard rumors of life in the city providing many diversions. A life full of social engagements, parties and teas. If it is anything like the month I spent in Capitol, then I can do well enough without it. I much prefer the sort of busy life of the country. There is always work to be done. Crops to tend and harvest, fields to prepare, livestock to see to, cheeses to be made from milk, herbs to be dried, and so much more. Everdeen produces a wide range of herbal remedies for everything from a cough to dry, papery skin. It is a year round occupation of growing, reaping and sowing, processing, packaging and selling. There isn’t a day that passes without some sort of task needing to be done.

And sometimes, when the work is done early, there is time for enjoyment and socialising. A wedding is nothing if not fodder for the gossips, a reason for local gentry to roll up their carpets, sweep their floors, tune their pianos, slaughter meats to be roasted, and invite a host of guests. Peeta’s arrival at Everdeen provides the excuse and an invitation arrives over tea from Mrs. Thompson, whose family of two daughters and two sons lives but a half an hour ride from Everdeen.

“Oh but you must attend our dinner tonight!” She insists and my mother heartily agrees, pausing only to ask my assurance that Peeta is not too tired from his journey to attend.

“He has had a day of rest,” I say, although I would rather decline. I can tell that my mother will not refuse, and it has been so long since she has left the house that I cannot pass on this opportunity. Peeta will simply have to bear it whether he wishes to or not.

“Splendid! I am happy to hear as our cook already began roasting the lamb before I left.”

The remainder of the day is lost in preparations for the dinner we are to attend. Madge fusses over my appearance as I try to wave her off.

“This is not the Capitol. No one will care how I look.”

“It is your first public appearance with Peeta as your betrothed,” she insists. “You will be marry in a week, which will seem quite hasty to some. The gossips will be relentless.”

I wish to ask why I should care what the gossips think, but Primrose wanders in then and squeals over my dress, spinning romantic fantasies that have us all shaking our heads and laughing. Hope blossoms from her eyes and her words, and I cannot bring myself to destroy the seedlings.

Peeta was correct on one thing. I cannot bear to force my family to live in a house full of strife. I will find a way to make this marriage to him work, if only for the sake of their happiness.

It is a strange sort of mood as we ride in the carriage to the Thompson estate. Peeta exits first and assists each of us out. I am last to exit the carriage and his grip on my hand tightens for a moment, halting my steps.

“They will ask questions. How much are we to reveal?”

“I…Not the truth,” I say, sounding scandalised and breathless even to my ears. He smiles slightly and his thumb caresses over my knuckles.

“Perhaps a version of the truth then, omitting your brief engagement to Robert?”

“Yes,” I manage to agree.

Dinner proceeds as expected. Everyone wishes to hear the story of how Peeta and I met. Astonishingly, I remain silent for most of it. Peeta captures their attention from the start, spinning a tale of a young woman bravely filling her father’s shoes and unfortunately running into a mishap with her horse and some mud. He omits the examination of my ankle, much to my relief, and simplifies the story enough to explain without revealing intimate details. Our reunion in Capitol he depicts as happy circumstance, not the result of my pursuing his brother, and tidily wraps it up after that by changing the subject to divert attention away from us.

I am congratulated and praised for such a fine match. He steals their hearts in a matter of minutes and I cannot help but be a little annoyed yet simultaneously in awe.

No one mentions that while Peeta’s father is a Marquis, his mother is an unknown, and I wonder how many of them know the truth regarding that.

After dinner, the music begins. Prim is swept into dances, and a young man braves asking Madge to partner for a set. My mother engages with several friends she has barely seen the past months since my father’s accident. As much as I wish for my father’s recovery, this small scene assures me somehow. The joy is contagious and I soon find myself smiling and bouncing in time to the tune. Beside me, Peeta stands stoic and I cannot resist the temptation to tease him.

“Mr. Mellark!” He bends down to hear me over the ruckus. “I am still owed a dance!” His reaction is slow as he stands slightly and seems to be struggling with something. “Or do you find me a repulsive partner?”

“Never, madame,” he says.

“Then you have something against dancing with your fiance? The gossips will have quite a bit of fun with that tidbit,” I say. Irritation at his hesitance threatens to shift to real anger.

He glances over the dancers before giving me a look full of sadness and apology. “Please believe that this has nothing to do with you, Miss Everdeen.”

“I do not understand, Mr. Mellark.”

He takes my hand in his and before I can protest, leads me away from the dancing, out into the darkened hall, turning to speak to me. “You are not the only one left marked and disfigured by life, Miss Everdeen.”

I nearly run from the hall at the reminder of what I told him – or Robert – that night. And of what followed. The memory of lips on my skin and the scent of night blossoms heavy and seductive around me threatens to plunge me into a depth I am not sure I can escape, but the questions in his eyes hold me captive and grounded long enough to ask him one thing.

“You wear yours on your face. How does that prevent you from dancing?”

“Those are not the only ones. I have a false leg, Miss Everdeen.”

“Pardon?”

“Kick my left shin.”

“What?”

“See for yourself, unless you’d rather I remove my trousers?” he says, a teasing smile lifting one corner of his lips. A furious blush takes over and I lift my foot into his left shin, only to encounter something far too solid to be a flesh and bone leg. My eyes leap to his as a strange echo fills my ears. “Now you know. I would embarrass you far more by dancing with you than I ever could by not dancing with you.”

Before I can form a proper response, he takes my hand in his, kisses it, and then vanishes. I’m left with my head spinning and a thousand questions burning in my mind. How did he lose his leg? How on earth has he managed to appear as though he is still intact? It explains so much – the limp, the slow methodical motions, even why he did not dismount that day in the rain or at the stairs to Everdeen yesterday morning. How then would he get back on his horse?

I lean back on the wall and laugh, only just keeping the sound from veering into the realm of hysterical as I realise… There is far more to the man I am about to marry than I could have imagined.

To be continued…

************************

Dear Readers,

The 2019 Everlark Fic Exchange has ended and despite my best efforts, I was unable to bring this story to a close in time. Given how much work the lovely @javistg and @xerxia31 put into this event every year, I cannot ask them to continue formatting and posting my anonymous submissions. I’d like to make it more simple for them. However, I would also like to finish this story as an anonymous writer. Therefore, I am asking for your help. If you are willing, please comment on or reblog this chapter with a note that you would welcome receiving one or two future chapters into your inbox and posting them on your blog. More than one volunteer is welcome to spread the task around the fandom.

Before you volunteer, I require a few small things. You must have your blog settings configured to accept anonymous submissions and be willing to make sure each chapter is appropriately tagged similar to how EFE tags their submissions. This will make it easier for other readers to follow and for EFE to keep track of chapters as they are posted. Also, you must be able to add in a Read More. No one likes to scroll past an endlessly long text post. These are both things usually best done from the website, not the mobile app which sometimes messes with formatting. I think it goes without sayng that you will not, under any circumstances, alter the story I submit to you, regardless of how you feel about it. Finally, should you figure out my identity somehow, I ask that you keep it a secret.

Thank you all for reading and for commenting. I hope you enjoy the remainder of the story.

~~ M ~~