#happy birdthday harrow!

[sorinethemastermind]

Viren considered the bird in his cage, then the bag of seed in his hand. He needed to eat, and yet... this all felt very strange.

"Will you eat this, if I give it to you?" he asked. "Or would you prefer... human food?"

The bird's green eyes surveyed him, unblinking and inscrutable.

Viren sighed, "Very well. Let us try this first, then."

He flipped the latch, letting the door of the cage swing open as he reached a hand into the pouch of seed. Immediately Harrow shot forward, squawking with all the strength in his little lungs, wings flapping frantically as he emerged from the cage and into the room. Viren dropped the pouch of feed in surprise, going to snatch at him but only getting a handful of feathers.

"Harrow!" he shouted, running wildly about the room after the bird as he continued to screech, knocking things from shelves and sending them crashing to the ground as he careened about the room. "Harrow, stop!"

The bird dive bombed him and Viren ducked, hands flying up to cover his head. "I've closed all the windows and the doors! So just get back in the cage and stop making such a racket!"

Harrow, as usual, did not listen. He continued to squawk, the sound possibly getting louder the more he did it. Viren ran from one side of the room to the other, following him and snatching at his long, trailing tail feathers to no avail.

"Please-" he panted, hands on his knees as the bird proceeded to break yet another bottle of priceless spell ingredients, "Just... hold on... a moment... while I catch my breath."

The bird ignored him and he sighed. "I didn't want to have to do this," Viren told him, reaching into the pouch at his side. "𝔗𝔥𝔤𝔦𝔩𝔣 𝔚𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔴𝔰," he chanted, crushing the dried body of the shimmerfly in his hand. Yet another ingredient wasted.

Instantly Harrow's wings snapped to his side and he plummeted, Viren having to lunge forward to catch him before he hit the ground, just barely managing to do it. He straightened up, bird clutched firmly in both hands, dust smeared across his front. The spell didn't last long and soon enough Harrow's wings were straining against his fingers, shrieking caws echoing off the cold stone walls. Viren winced at the piercing call, wrestling him angrily back into his cage.

"You're making me-" he shoved the bird back inside as it once again tried to push out past his hands, "look-" Harrow cawed loudly, pecking at his finger until it bled, "ridiculous!" Viren finished, snapping the cage door shut with a huff.

He stared at his hand, grumbling, "I'm trying to help you."

The bird cawed loudly, flapping it's wings angrily.

"I don't know what you're saying," Viren muttered, turning to collect the spilled bag of seed from the ground, scooping up as much as he could off the tiles. "But I will assume it isn't polite."

He straightened up, dumping the bag through the top of the cage, most of it spilling out the bottom. Enough of it landed, however, for Harrow to get a meal.

"There," Viren said, brushing off is hands. He would have to find a bandage. "Now you can be quiet."

The bird was not quiet. Viren pinched his brow, "I am trying to feed you. Do you not want to be fed?"

The bird cawed.

"I don't know what you're saying!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "I have more important things to do than chase you around my office."

Viren turned, dropping the empty feed bag on the floor as he stormed form the room. He would clean it up later. Perhaps when Harrow was being less bothersome.

Pip + Viren

Ridiculous

[kradogsrats]

King Harrow x birdsrightsactivist

[sagegreenfrogs]

Pip + Claudia: Confusion

(from @dragonprincedrabbles for Harrow's Bird-thday) and yes I know I'm late shhh

— —

The town of Laurelburg was bustling with civilians. Candles, incense, and offerings were laid at a statue of Lady Justice, holding her scale and blindfold. Claudia stopped to pay her respects, pouring some of her hot brown morning potion into one of the libation cups and nodding at the statue as she took a swig. 

She hadn’t returned to Katolis for a while, not after Aaravos’s ‘Death.’ Her hair was shorter, fully white. She was missing multiple limbs, and scars littered across her face. Her cheeks had grown sullen and pale, ever-lasting bags rested under her eyes. Her somewhat sickly appearance was sure to draw unwanted stares, but she didn’t have to worry about people recognizing her, except for Terry and Soren, but she was sure they stood no match.

Mount Kalik towered above the town, covered in snow. A brisk flurry of air swept at Claudia’s hair as she ambled through the streets. She pulled her cloak tighter, shivering.

Finally, she reached the building she was looking for. The local animal shelter. 

She swung open the door. It creaked and the sound echoed through the mostly empty building. A short, sickly pale, and somewhat rodentish man sat behind a clerk’s desk.

“Hello?” Claudia waved a hand in front of the man, snapping to grab his attention. 

The man looked up at her. He clearly saw her hair whitened by dark magic- and gulped nervously. “H- Hello. Welcome to- uh- welcome to Laurelburg Veterinary services. How may- how may I help you?”

“I need horse food” She rested an elbow on the desk, leaning forward. “Fruit, seed, whatever.”

Sweat trickled down the clerk’s wrinkly forehead. “Yes- um, you’ll find it on that shelf to your left.” 

Claudia grabbed a bag and walked towards the door. 

“Uh- Ma’am, you’ll have to pay for that-” 

Claudia threw a bag of coins at him, striding out the door. “Keep the change.”

— —

Crickets chirped and the sun set behind Claudia’s back as she made her way to the clearing in the forest where she’d left Blythe, her steed. She could fly anywhere she wanted, but having a horse drew less attention. 

“I’m ba-ack!” She sang out to no one, besides the horse.

The mage patted Blythe’s mane, giving her a handful of feed.

“Who’s a good horsie?” Claudia didn’t have much joy or companionship since losing Aaravos, her steed had become a beloved companion.

As she was loading her bags onto Blythe’s saddle, she heard an incessant squawking. A bird that just wouldn’t shut up. 

She flung around, ready to use it for parts.

“You little-” Claudia stopped dead in her tracks, bewildered by what she was looking at. “Pip?” King Harrow’s pet bird screeched at her. “I could have sworn dad used you up years ago.” It continued to stare at her, its screams hauntingly human. 

The truth dawned on her. “Dad entered King Harrow’s chambers with his staff that night, and Soren said he’d heard him recite a spell.” 

She ran her thumb along the Infantis Sanguine markings on her palm. “Erusaurt ym si luos ruoy. The spell to change the vessel a soul resides in. It’s you, isn’t it? King Harrow?”

The bird- the king? Continued to stare at her.

It made another strange noise before flying away. 

“Wh- Wait, no-” Claudia jumped on her horse, chasing after it. “Come back! I can use you!”

[sorinethemastermind]

Reunion

In which Harrow sees his sons again. [because @lunanightriderofthecove wanted a sequel to this one where Harrow sees his sons again and I thought that was a splendid idea. Happy Birdthday to the King of Katolis!]

Harrow cocked his head, glancing up at Opeli above him, adjusting his perch on her arm. He ruffled his feathers and let out a small coo, drawing her attention. She looked at him with an expression someplace between confusion and pi-

Oh, was that a bug?

Harrow lifted off from her arm, surroundings temporarily forgotten, and soared through the great double doors Soren had just opened to land on the red carpeted floor. He hurried forward, jabbing at the ground with his beak until he'd managed to skewer the cricket.

A loud thump came from behind him and he jumped, images of Viren and cage doors slamming flashing through his mind. He took to the skies again, except the sky had been replaced by a marble ceiling, cloudless and white. He squawked, panicking filling for a moment before-

"Dad?"

The voice snapped him back into his own mind again and he settled on a nearby table, turning to search for it's source. There was a throne at the end off the great hall, familiar though the wood was now scorched and blackened. And seated in it was...

He flew forward, wings flapping frantically. He looked so different, so much older. But Harrow would have known that face anywhere. It didn't matter how long he hadn't been himself, it was his son. He lighted on the arm of the throne, staring up into Ezran's big blue eyes as they filled with tears.

He was certainly older, and not just physically. Harrow could see the crown - silver in place of gold, but still just as heavy - sitting on his brow. The lines under his eyes that no child should have. Except he was no longer a child, was he? A teenager?

Harrow experienced the strange sensation of knowing that he was crying without the capacity to cry. The same feeling but none of the affects. He took a tentative step forward, talons hooking into the wood as he leaned as close as he could. He reached out, brushing his hand against Ezran's outstretched hand. He cooed, knowing his words didn't matter but wanting to say them anyway.

Except Ezran smiled through the tears, a small laugh forming in the back of his throat, "Yeah, I'm okay. I missed you, too."

Harrow stared up at him, then leapt forward into his lap, gazing up into his eyes as he began twittering again.

Ezran wrapping both hands gently around him, thumb gently stroking his feathers. But Harrow knew the touch for what it was. A hold, tight, but not constricting. As though he was afraid he'd slip through his fingers at any moment.

"Yes, he's okay, too." Ezran glanced across the room for a moment, "Soren, will you go and get Callum? And Rayla, too."

"You got it!"

Harrow turned to watch the Crownguard spin on his heel and hurry from the room, Opeli right on his heels. He had grown so much, too. But not just that, he had also changed. So much had changed. And he had missed all of it.

Harrow turned back to his son, cooing another question.

Ezran smiled, tears still spilling silently down his cheeks, "You'll like Rayla. She's Callum's girlfriend."

Harrow twittered and watched Ezran's face fall. He hopped closer, cocking his head to the side worriedly.

"Yeah I... I guess he did finally get over her. There's a lot to tell you, Dad. I don't really know where to start."

The beginning, Harrow prompted. He would have been happy to listen to Ezran talk about anything for hours, anything at all.

His son took a deep breath, but instead of answering his questions, he asked one of his own, "Did Lord Viren do this to you?"

Harrow's eyes narrowed and he dipped his head, squawking a frustrated confirmation. When he got his han- talons on that traitorous mage he would-

"He's dead," Ezran told him, gently.

Harrow stopped his squawking, staring up at him. A wave of emotion crashed over him, confusing and unexpected. Surely not... sadness. Not after everything Viren had done?

"I'll explain everything once Callum is here," Ezran assured him. Then he added; "I'm so glad you're back, Dad."

Harrow cooed in agreement, rubbing his head against Ezran's hand once again. Just then the doors flew open behind them and he turned to find Callum standing in the doorway, taller and wearing-

Wearing the robes of the High Mage's office, a white streak through his hair.

An image of Viren, not much older than his son must now be, standing in a similar outfit and a similar castle flashed before his eyes.

But then Callum took a hesitant step forward, gait breaking into a run, and the image was forgotten.

"Dad!" he cried, dropping to his knees before the throne to throw his arms around Harrow, who stepped forward into his son's embrace. He cooed softly, nuzzling Callum's cheek with his head.

"He says he's glad you're okay, and that he loves you very much," Ezran supplied.

Callum pulled away after a moment, staring down at him with wide eyes. "We're going to get you out of there," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I know a spell that will fix all of this."

Harrow stared up at him, once again the image of Viren flashing over his son's face. He looked away, gaze wandering over the room to land on-

The assassins. They had found him. Somehow they were here.

Harrow launched himself into the air, squawking furiously as he tried to draw Callum and Ezran's attention. The elf, who had previously been skulking in the doorway, flinched back. He saw Soren reach out towards her and for a moment felt reassured, but the Crownguard merely patted her on the shoulder before pushing her gently into the room. Of course. Why had he trusted Viren's son?

Except then Callum turned, eyes lighting up at the sight of her, and beckoned her forward as well. She walked hesitantly to his side and his son straightened up, tucking an arm around her waist. Harrow stopped cawing and lighted back on the arm of the throne, wings spread protectively before Ezran.

"Dad, this is Rayla. My girlfriend," Callum said. The elf gave a small wave.

"We're at peace now, with the elves," Ezran said from behind him and Harrow turned to look at him. "Didn't Soren tell you?"

An image of a green haired elf surfaced from his memory, hand outstretched and full of berries. Harrow lowered his wings, cooing softly with embarrassment. He remembered, now, Soren introducing him. And- and there had been another person there, too. Not one of Viren's children. Corvin? Corvus! He had been there as well, working alongside the elf with comfortable familiarity.

Harrow dipped his head beneath his wing. It was becoming harder and harder to connect the dots. To hold onto the pieces of himself that weren't as close to his heart. He could feel things slipping away from him, things he knew he should know and remember. But the image of his sons had always remained clear in his mind, an anchor holding him together at his center, keeping all the drifting pieces together. Or as together as they could be.

"It's okay," Ezran reached out and stroked his head, seeming to sense his worry. "Callum is going to get you back."

Harrow looked up at his sons, glancing between them. Ezran gave him a watery eyed smile and Callum knelt back down to reach out and hold him again. The three of them reunited at last.

Whatever had happened over the years he'd been gone, however much they had grown and changed, these were his sons. And so long as he held onto that knowledge, he knew nothing else mattered.

[sorinethemastermind]

Opeli stared at the bir- her king for a long moment before turning back to Soren. "He's really... in there?" she asked, eyes flitting back to the bird as it preened.

"Yep," the blond said, gaze following her own to the bird perched on his shoulder.

"And is he... himself?"

"I dunno," Soren admitted, reaching out to stroke the bird's head. It ruffled it's feathers, rubbing it's beak against his finger. "That's why I brought him to you before... the others."

Ah. Callum and Ezran.

"Has he shown any signs of recognizing you?" she asked, leaning in for a closer look, as though King Harrow would suddenly emerge from the bird if she peered hard enough.

"I mean, he hasn't tried to fly away. But he could just be friendly."

"And you're certain that this is the correct bird?" Opeli checked again, glancing up at Soren.

"Uh huh," Soren gave a small nod. "Looks exactly like the picture Callum drew. And 'rare Xadian Songbirds' are, well, rare."

"I am aware," Opeli leaned back, looking the bird over again. Then giving Soren the same treatment. He had a bird now, and his hair had gotten longer. Much longer, it was now pulled into a messy bun on the back of his head. "Do you think he will recognize his sons?"

"I... I really hope so," Soren said, expression falling a little. "I was sort of hoping he would recognize you."

"Oh," Opeli considered for a moment, then reached her arm out hesitantly. "May I?"

Soren reached out, holding his arm out parallels with her own, bumping them slightly together. After a moment the bir- Harrow cocked his head to the side, considering her, and then began to sidle down Soren's arm. He placed first one talon onto Opeli's forearm and then the other, latching them around. She shivered as the little hooked ends of them latched into her robe.

Soren lowered his arm, leaving the king perched on her arm. Opeli carefully brought him level with her face. "King Harrow?"

The bird twittered.

"King Harrow, it is a pleasure to see you again. I was relieved to hear of your survival," Opeli addressed the piercing, green avian eyes, feeling somewhat foolish but not sure what else to do. "And I am so glad Soren was able to find you. He has become Captain, in your absence. But I am sure he already informed you of that."

When Harrow said nothing, she continued. "Many things have changed during your absence, but Katolis has- Well," she stopped, glancing at Soren. "Have you told him?"

He shook his head, "I wasn't sure if he was listening and I wasn't... I wasn't sure how." He glanced down, a few loose strands of hair falling across his face. She knew Katolis was an open wound for him still, even now.

Opeli took a deep breath, "The castle, it was destroyed," she told her king, "But Soren managed to get most everyone to safety. The people, your people, are alive because of him."

She saw Soren look up out of the corner of her eye and gave him a little smile before continuing, "Ki- Prince Ezran," the switch felt strange on her tongue, "has led them very well. I believe you would be proud."

Harrow twittered loudly, then, at the sound of the name. Flapping his wings and nearly startling Opeli into dropping him. Soren's head shot up fully and they both stared at him.

"Ezran?" Opeli repeated. The bird reacted similarly, glancing about. Then he stared at her, green eyes bright and intent. It opened it's beak as though to speak-

Leaned in, and pecked her on the nose. Opeli let out a surprised gasp and Soren chuckle. She let out a small laugh before regaining her composure, staring back into Harrow's eyes, "It's him."

"What, has King Harrow pecked you before?" Soren asked, giving her a perplexed look.

"No, I-" Opeli glanced at him. "Soren, did you really think the King of Katolis pecked me?"

"I dunno," Soren shrugged, "Just asking."

She shook her head, returning her attention to the King of Katolis, perched on her arm. "He recognized Ezran's name," the bird once again perked up, staring at her intently, "And he has the same sense of humor."

"So he has pecked you. Weird."

"That's not what I-" Opeli let out an exasperated sigh. "Let us just bring him to the others. He'll want to see his sons. And they'll want to see him."

"Yeah. Why don't you carry him? He seems to like you," Soren said, leading the way into the hall.

Opeli followed him, watching the bird preening on her arm and wondering what decisions she'd made that had landed her here, in this moment. With the King of Katolis perched on her arm.

Pip + Opeli

Playful

[kradogsrats]

@dragonprincedrabbles prompt Harrow + Damian, Breathe

—

A particularly nasty cold works its way through the castle, the first winter after they move in. Even Sarai gets the sniffles, though fortunately no more than that. Being sick and six months' pregnant would be truly miserable.

Callum stays healthy, thanks to diligent hand-washing and restriction from the areas of the castle where germs are most freely spread, but he grows moody and standoffish. He was already struggling to adjust, obviously feeling like an out-of-place guest in the castle and seeing Harrow as more like a distant uncle than a stepfather. Sarai knows he needs time—the only way encourage growing into a home and family is to allow the space to do so, and then step back. She just hates seeing her son unhappy.

Then Claudia, the one playmate he's truly grown close with, gets sick enough to spend a week in bed, and he starts acting out in ways he never has before. Not even when Damian was dying.

Harrow spends most of that week with Viren, who is understandably beside himself over his daughter's condition, mild though it is. Once she's undeniably on the mend and Harrow's able to escape, Sarai shares her own frustration and worries about her son. Always thoughtful, he suggests that they go to the lodge—there's a blanket of fresh snow on the ground, and a change of scene and activities will do Callum good.

It's a fantastic idea, one Sarai is embarrassed she didn't think of herself. Of course, she's not exactly used to having an entire lodge to retreat to for relaxation.

The first few days go better than she could ever hope—he and Harrow sled, build snowmen and snow banthers, and have snowball fights more epic than any Border skirmish. Sarai joins them sometimes, though she feels a little too pregnant for some of the more vigorous activities and is content to watch from inside, sipping hot cider. Callum runs to her pink-cheeked and laughing when they come back inside, happier every day than he has been in weeks. In the evenings, he falls asleep on the couch, nestled between them as Harrow reads aloud in his deep, soothing voice.

Then the castle cold catches up with Harrow.

Sarai suddenly finds herself caught between overseeing regular deliveries of hot soup and honeyed tea to her husband and near-constant tantrums from her son. Everything becomes a battle—getting up in the morning, what food he'll eat for any meal and when, putting on warm clothes before going outside, baths, bedtime. After a particularly bad fit over wanting to go ice skating—it's not cold enough for Sarai to trust the pond's ice without it being checked—she gathers him up into her lap for a talk.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" she says, rocking them both gently back and forth while he snuggles in her arms. "I can tell you're having a lot of big feelings—are you sad or mad that Harrow can't play anymore? Do you miss the castle?"

He shakes his head against her chest, but says nothing.

"Did something happen that scared you? Have you had bad dreams?"

Callum hesitates, then buries his face in her shirt, clinging to her. "I'm sorry, Mom," he says through fresh tears. "It's all my fault, I'm so sorry—"

She shushes him soothingly, stroking his hair. "I'm right here. It's okay to be overwhelmed. You haven't done anything wrong."

He takes a hiccuping breath. "But I did! I—I wished that King Harrow would die, so we could go home. I just wanted everything to be like it was before, with Dad. Now he's—I don't want him to die!"

He's crying hysterically again, and Sarai holds him tight. All the pieces suddenly come together—this year's cold takes root in the chest, leading to a wet, hacking cough. Harrow's coughing fits, while already subsiding, had been loud and frequent for the first few days. Loud enough to be heard from nearly anywhere in the lodge.

She and Damian had kept the worst of his condition from Callum, but not everything could be hidden, especially if Damian was to have any kind of life in his remaining time. So Callum saw when he coughed convulsively until he strained to breathe, air barely wheezing in and out of his lungs. Even if that wasn't the case, he'd heard his father's labored, rattling breaths at the end.

"Oh, sweetie," she says. "He's not going to die, I promise. He'll be just fine in a few days."

Callum shakes his head wildly, clinging to her. "I'm sorry," he sobs again.

"It's okay," Sarai soothes him, rubbing slow circles into his back. "It's okay, Callum. Sometimes, when we're angry or scared, we think or say things we don't really mean. There have been a lot of big changes, and that can feel scary and unfair. I wish we could have done things differently."

She swallows around the lump forming in her throat. "Your dad—I was angry and scared for a long time, when we found out how sick he was. I was angry that he wouldn't get to see you grow up, and I was scared of what life would be like without him. I had a lot of mean thoughts about people who I knew loved me, and were only trying to help. I didn't let those thoughts take root, and I know you won't, either—you'll breathe, and let them out."

She inhales deeply through her nose and exhales slowly through her mouth, repeating until Callum was breathing with her. His crying slows as he relaxes.

"Harrow can't ever replace your dad, but whatever he becomes to you, I know he loves you very much." She hugs him close, smiling when he hugs her back. "How about this? We can toast some cheese sandwiches and bring some soup up to him for lunch, like a picnic. He'll be happy to see you."

Callum nods, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. Sarai pokes it lightly. "Then, if the Crownguard say the ice is safe, we can go skating."

"Maybe, instead of skating," Callum says tentatively, as he hops down from her lap, "we could play a game from the game room this afternoon."

So Harrow can play, too. All of us together. She smiles, levering herself up from the couch. "That's a wonderful idea, sweetie. Go pick one out, and I'll start the sandwiches."

She's still smiling as he scampers off excitedly, and she heads for the kitchen. Lunch and games with all three of them, together—it looks like they just might be becoming a family.

[dragonprincedrabbles]

King Harrow's birthday is January 20th! It's time to make like Lord Viren and neglect our children* in order to celebrate Katolis's most avian(?) monarch! SHABLOW!

Starting Friday, January 10, @dragonprincedrabbles will suspend normal bot posting activity and instead run off a queue of Pip prompts, lovingly hand-curated from the prompt generator... but here's two elf-handfuls if you want to get started right away:

Pip + Runaan - Free

Pip + Ezran - Accusation

Pip + Callum - I'm Still Me

Pip + Claudia - An Eye for an Eye

Pip + Viren - A Thousand Eyes

Pip + Gren - Confined

Pip + Azymondias - Condemn

Pip + Rayla - Better Late Than Never

How to Participate

Find a prompt you like! Use one of the upcoming queued ones, find a past one in the Pip or Harrow tag, or go to the prompt generator and get your own! (Pro Tip: Click "Customize" and enter a character name in the field at the bottom.) Feel free to swap Harrow for Pip (or vice versa) in any provided prompt, we're here to celebrate DadBird and BirdDad equally.

Make something! Write a fic, draw a picture, do a graphics edit, make a meme, gif a gif (wizardry, imo), make a video (also wizardry), write out some meta-y thoughts, just gush for a bit over something the prompt made you think about, whatever! No AI. (Does that really need to be said? Come on, don't be a scrub.)

Put that something somewhere to be seen! Reblog the prompt post and add your thing. Make a new post for your thing on your own blog and tag @dragonprincedrabbles. If your thing is extremely cursed, there are also anonymous submission instructions.

Repeat as desired! (Holy shit, 2+n cakes!) There is no final deadline. These prompts will not self-destruct on January 21, they are available to you forever and this blog exists to share your creations whenever they come in.

Enjoy the results! On January 20, @dragonprincedrabbles will start reblogging/posting any fills. Don't forget to reblog and/or comment so the creators know their work is amazing!

* Please do not actually neglect any children. They might stab you, later.

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + Kpp'Ar

Sentimental

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + Soren

Blood is Thicker than Water

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + Ezran

The Same Old Story

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + Bait

Lap of Luxury

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + Villads

Mistaken Identity

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + Sarai

Moonrise

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + Zubeia

There's No Accounting For Taste

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + Aaravos

After Darkness

[dragonprincedrabbles]

Pip + The Merciful One

A Song of Love and Loss