#i didnt realise so much of the crowd was for hail until i was the only diehard allb fan in the corner i was in 😭

[snakesnifter]

saw hail the sun :')

[shinytidalwavebread]

Imagine if morgana had a couple of days where her magic just went mad and merlin, Arthur and gwen had to cover for her.

Morgana woke up with a start. She had just had the most disturbing dream that her magic had gone completely out of control. Oh well, it was just a dream. She glanced round the room and gasped. Everything was floating! All the furniture, even the bed, was floating in midair. She shouted for merlin inside her head. He came racing in a few seconds later. He had no idea what was going on, and no idea how to put it right. He suggested that she just relax, and see if everything would go back to normal. To this she replied that how could she be calm, she seemed to of reversed the gravitational pull in her chambers! At least it was only her chambers, and not everywhere else, speculated merlin. Merlin at last managed to bring the objects back to the ground. Morgana breathed a sigh of relief. Then she heard footsteps. Arthur had heard someone entering morgana's chambers and was worried that something may of happened too her. Merlin just stood there, not seeming to hear a thing. Arthur burst into the room. He asked merlin what he was doing in Morgana's chambers this early in the morning. Merlin replied without thinking that he thought he heard her yell out. Arthur looked over at morgana, who was pretending to sleep. Maybe she did, he said, she sometimes spoke in her sleep. Arthur grabbed Merlin's wrist and tried to drag him from the room. Morgana panicked and shouted his name aloud this time. What if he left and things started to float again? Arthur immediately let go of merlin. He had tangled with tired morgana before and it was not an experience he wanted to repeat. He looked and morgana was now sat bolt upright, looking perhaps the palest he had ever seen her. He decided that he just didnt want to know and walked off down the corridor. Morgana asked merlin what she should do. Merlin told her that she should probably just wait and see what happened. Keep close to him. Maybe spend the day with arthur or something, that way merlin could always be close by. Morgana told him that was a good idea. Besides, if she wanted to accidentally set anyone on fire, it would be arthur. Merlin waited outside morgana's door for her to get ready, before she followed him to Arthur's chambers. Arthur had no idea why morgana was being so clingy with him and his servant all of a sudden. Maybe it was a dream or something. Yeah. That was probably it. He would go along with it until she dropped it. He had a councel meeting first thing and uther was very surprised as to why morgana insisted on being there. Merlin noticed a noise like a clanging coming from over by the door. Two swords were fighting each other and morgana was watching them, transfixed. Thankfully, uther and the councel had their backs too it, but there was still plenty enough noise for it to be noticed. Merlin tried to signal to morgana that something was wrong. She caught his eye and realised what she was doing. She went rigid and her eyes narrowed with fear. What if someone noticed. She couldnt put them down. Merlin was trying but there wasnt much he could do without giving away his secret. He was no help to either of them dead. Arthur had noticed Morgana's tension. Suddenly the swords dropped and Morgana's breath hitched. Arthur sensed this too. Merlin caught them both before they could make any noise. Morgana now sat still and unmoving, barely even breathing. Arthur was now very concerned. He got up to leave to try and figure things out. He motioned for merlin to follow him. Morgana came too. Arthur stopped dead in the hallway. He wanted to know what was wrong with morgana. Whether she was unwell or whether there was something weirder going on. Just then a small cloud began to form over Arthur's head. It began to hail, of all things. Arthur began to shout, but then he put it together. Morgana was causing this. Merlin and morgana both hesitantly filled in the gaps. She pleaded for him not to tell uther. Arthur was more surprised then anything else. Surprised as to how morgana had kept this from him. Surprised at how well she had hidden it. She asked him if he thought she was evil.

She was taken aback when he actually laughter. No, or course she wasnt evil! Frightning, definitely, but not evil. Morgana sighed with relief at her brothers easy acceptance of her. Then arthur suddenly stopped laughing. How would she hide this from uther? She had no idea. They would just have to go about their day, and try to stop anything going too wrong. They heard a cough behind them. It was Morgana's servant, gwen. Merlin, morgana and arthur all talked over one another trying to explain themselves. Gwen smiled and told them she had known for a while. After all, who was it morgana usually shouted for after a nightmare. Gwen had heard all about this with Morgana's sleep talking as well. Arthur suggested they take this conversation to his chambers where they wouldnt be overheard. In Arthur's chambers, they talked deeper about Morgana's magic. Whilst they were discussing, merlin casually used his magic to conjure a light. Arthur jumped out of his skin when he saw his servants eyes glow gold. He eventually got over it, and silently wondered how he hadn't noticed anything before. Arthur had a practise with the knights in the afternoon, so merlin would also have to be there. Morgana decided that she would join them. Once in the practise yard, morgana put on a helmet and grabbed a sword. Of course she couldnt resist the chance to beat arthur in a match. Arthur rolled his eyes and laughed at first. He told her that this was a bad idea. She then retaliated, saying he was only scared because he knew she would beat him. All the knights had gathered round them. Morgana attacked first, slashing at his chest and making a direct hit. He went for her legs, trying to knock her over. She deflected his blows and made seven connecting blows consecutively. A few minutes later she had him on his back, with a sword at his throat. Uther parted the crowds to see what was going on. Who was this knight strong enough to beat his son, he asked. Morgana removed her helmet to grin at him smugly. Uther laughed and said he should of known. Morgana helped arthur to his feet and smiled at him. Arthur was glaring at her. She thought it was just because she beat him, but no. He had spotted her eyes glowing. Something was about to happen. Arthur's boots began to move. On their own. They were trying to trip him up. He fought to stay balanced and hide this. Morgana was halfway between horrified and amused. Arthur was definitely the latter of the two. Merlin was watching and laughing in the background. Arthur was trying to control his boots, and his father was trying to hold back laughter. Morgana hit him in the back of the knees. He fell down, and the boots went limp. Uther told morgana that is wasnt nice to do that, but it was hardly sincere as he was laughing. Arthur lay on the ground groaning. The crowd had nearly dispersed, except for sir leon who was still smiling at arthur on the ground.

I may or may not do a part 2, or like morgana magic mishaps the series or something. That would depend.

[elizawright]

Other Experiences

Interviews with other women with Aspergers

Source: Aspergers Uk Facebook Community

I noticed while being on the group most of the participants were men backing up the statistics that majority of the Aspergers community are male. This backs up my own theory that women find it harder to get diagnosed as majority of what doctors associate as “Aspergers Characteristics” come from male representatives. A good point from somewhen else in the group suggested that it also comes from the fact women are better at masking.

First Interview

Below is an interview I conducted with a lovely lady called Lauren, it was a very interesting read and supported what I already believed to be true through my own experiences. Women with autism are rarely represented in the media and struggle to get diagnosis or support from others as they show different characteristics to the majority of the Aspergers community:

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. Feb 2009 age 13 nearly 14

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. it was difficult and took about 8 appointments to get a diagnosis as lot of signs/traits were interlinked with other conditions I already had diagnosed

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

A. I'm strict with time (not been late once), very well organised and creative

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. No I was diagnosed with mental health before I had my diagnosis and a lot of people say to women because you can do eye contact or you have empathy/show emotions that they are not autistic when they are. People need to remember women are naturally brought up to be more mature/grown up then men so we learn things sooner than men would.

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Going out to busy/crowded places, meeting new people/socialising with new people and changes especially to routine. Neurotypical people should be taught about autism in school so less bullying happens and more support can happen even simple things like structured routine or explaining something in a different way or putting it into a real life prospect.

Q. Is there anything else you would like to add?

A.People need to realise that autism is a invisible disability and there isn't a certain look like down syndrome. People also need to remember that autism is different in every person so just because one person with autism is aggressive it doesn't mean everyone is going to be aggressive. Finally to remember autism comes in different levels and severities so one person with autism could live independently with a little bit of support while another person with the same diagnosis might need 24 hour care and support

Second Interview

Another lovely lady called Sophie bravely answered two of the questions for me:

Q. Is there anything else you would like to add?

A. I feel autism is based more around men. The way this could be improved is if people were more aware that autism can affect both males and females

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

A. I didnt actually get diagnosed until I was 19 but I went to John Parkes when I was younger as ny mum thought I was different but they only said I am left handed but use ny right hand so it was left at that until I was 19 and my mum started working in a school and realised that I did a lot of the things that an autistic child at the school did

Third Interview

Lastly was a very helpful interview by a lovely lady called Ebony. I felt the most connection with Ebonys answers, pretty much everything she said I could relate to, specifically the struggle our mothers had to get a diagnosis, the miss belief in diagnosis of you don’t fit the stereotypes and the frustration with the lack of positive female representation.

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. I was diagnosed at 8/9 years old

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. My mother found it difficult to get me an assessment to get diagnosed because I have a genetic condition which they wanted to overshadow autism under. Even though they’re totally unrelated. She fought in court for two years before I was granted a full assessment

Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

3. Aspergers makes me more observant. Aspergers allows me to focus specifically on and learn things really easily with things which I am really interested in, in detail, which is really useful for my degree. And Aspergers makes it easy for me to process visual information

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. Absolutely not. Autism seems to be very much represented by men with the very typical characteristics (Big bang theory and atypical prime examples). I think there needs to be more female influencers who are on the spectrum speaking about it and also in movies, using autistic female characters as the main character instead of male

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Change. I guess just not changing things would be helpful but I think that’s just the way of the world.

People thinking I’m not on the spectrum because I’m not good at maths or science and I don’t have a breakdown every two minutes. Not assuming the stereotypes are true in everyone. My very black and white way of thinking. Sometimes this gets in the way of being able to think perceptively, as hard as I try, it can be very hard to understand why something is the way it is.

Interview 4

Interview with a lady who would like to stay anonymous. She has a very interesting story and in the past has done lots of work studying Aspergers in women.

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. 2007

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. I had anxiety n depression off n on for years. Worked as a advocate an had an abusive partner and it became worse. I went to a gp after reading about the condition and was dismissed by the gp. I took anti depressants n they made me feel so bad. Weight gain, hailing beginning to fall out n head felt like a racing feeling. Went back n was referred for cbt n refused to take meds as suicidal thoughts listed as side affect, which was happening. Went for cbt the lady had an autistic son. She picked up on traits n did n assessment n referred me to psychologist. I think I was quite lucky in my journey, in terms of a diagnosis. My mum said she always knew but she was always on meds. I’m not a fan on medication - personally

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

A.1. I stopped hating or comparing myself to neuro typical people and what they do so easily.

2. It was ok to be different and I wasn’t stupid

3. I started to see myself and my traits and enjoy being me. If that makes sense

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. I think when people are shown autism they are often shown the extreme. I watched a programme on the bbc about people with asperges and I couldn’t c myself in any of them. People always think of Chris Packham but we too are all v different as are NTs. The only other female I know of is Susan Boyle who was exploited in some way. But I believe she’s had support now and on the up bless her

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Too many people

Eating around strangers

Bright lights

In terms of how Nts could help is tough. I’m used to not having help so can be hard saying I’ve got a disability n then dealing with people’s preconceptions or struggling without help. Mentor ship in terms of study n maybe work place could be good.

Interview 5

This interview is another who would like to be kept anonymous, their family is very judgmental of their diagnosis therefor they don’t openly disclose their name.

Q.When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. I was diagnosed in 2013, aged 36

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. I was fortunate in that the clinical psychologist who diagnosed me was a specialist in the female autustic phenotype, which made the diagnostic process easier.

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

A. Three positive things about Asperger's:

I stand in solidarity with my autistic kids, and understand them better

The way I think makes me good at writing essays

I think autistic people find greater joy in small things than neurotypicals.

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. Autism in the media is usually male, which influences women's ability to get diagnosed and get help. There is a small but persistent push my autustic women to make autistic women and girls more visible, and we need to keep building on that

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. I struggle with practical things, like maintaining a routine, using public transport, and following directions. Neurotypicals can help by recognising female autism, and simply being kind

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didnt have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 1 - The cell

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

Chapter 1 - The cell

WHUMP!

That was the last thing Blake heard.

The rush of air and the sound of a blunt object hitting her over the back of her head.

And then, for what felt like an eternity. there was only darkness.

She was present for all of it….feeling like she was sinking…falling into the endless blackness….almost sure that this was it…that she would wake as one of them…half-conscious but desperate for the taste of blood….of human flesh….

So it came as a surprise to her, when she blinked open her eyes to find that she was still shrouded in darkness….cold and bruised.

Blake gave a groan, scrabbling at the cold concrete floor beneath her, trying to heave herself up into a sitting position, gazing around, through the gloom.

Where was she?

And what had happened?

Where was-

She turned her head at the sudden sound of footsteps, noticing suddenly a crack, beneath, what must have been a large steel door to her left, where a bright shaft of light poured from underneath.

She had been outside the walls to Alexandria when it had happened…foraging for, well, anything…

Times were hard and desperate. If only they could find some fruit, some seeds to plant….a farm nearby maybe? But they had tried all that. Anything to try and fill their quota to the Saviours this month.

While Rick and Michonne were out there trying to find guns, Blake was trying to get by…to not see anyone else killed for the sake of pride.

Her and her team had been picked up seven months ago by Aaron…they had been wandering the woods…hiding out and scavenging for food and sustenance where they could, for what felt like years.

Had it been years? All sense of time had seemed to slip through their fingers. Now it was just them and a sunset….tolling the days.

“David?” she croaked, clutching at her sore ribs as a voice that didn’t sound like hers, escaped her lips.

Where was she? And why was she here alone?

Alive?

She sat up, pushing her long caramel hair from her face, as a shadow of feet and the sound of footsteps once again passed the door.

She had been walking on her own when she had heard the sound of trucks entering the gates of Alexandria. The Saviours most likely. Blake usually kept her head down when the brutish men made their way into their camp, plundering everything they could get their hands on.

But she couldn’t remember what had happened next. Only that sound, and the blackness….

Where was David?

She gave a gulp, her throat feeling dry and sore and slid herself back against the cold bare wall.

She had on just a white t-shirt, tight fitting jeans and boots….but compared to the humid temperature in the sunlight outside, in here in was cold and drafty and damp.

Her hand slipped down to her side where her knife usually sat but it wasn’t there. Blake vaguely remembered having it in her hand when she had been struck, so god knows where it was now.

But before she could think on anything more, the door was wrenched open and a harsh artificial light streamed over her eyes.

Blake squinted, lifting a hand over her face for a second while she adjusted to the light. But she didn’t have time to do anything more, as she felt two pairs of rough hands grab her beneath her arms and pull her to her feet.

She stumbled unsteadily feeling for the first time how sore and bruised she truly was. Had she really fallen that badly?

Then she remembered …

It had been a few days ago now…. another of David’s angry outbursts. She had almost felt it coming….his irritated tone…the scowls over dinner with Tara…like an oncoming storm…

It hadn’t been the first time, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. But since, well, everything had gone to shit, it was common…people were angry…bitter that this had happened.…and were taking their anger out on those closest to them.

David used to apologise…but these days….the ‘sorrys’ were few and far between.

If she had been talking to anyone else, she’d have told them to run…..to get out….to leave….but they had been together for years before all this had started….and anyway….who else did she have?

Two of the five she had started out with, since arriving in Alexandria, were now dead, so she would stay with David….her fiancé.

Because she was terrified and because she knew there was nothing else. Was having something as horrible as it was, worth it?

And at the end of the day, he loved her….right?

The two men either side of her yanked her forwards painfully.

Blake didn’t recognise them, but could guess from the burly characteristics they both shared, it was likely they only hailed from one group. And that group was the Saviours.

Fuck…

Was that really where she was right now? Their camp?

No, no, no, no, no….

She hadn’t been involved…she had stayed out of Rick’s politics…this had never been her fight!

“Come on, sweetheart,” growled one of them men, as they pushed her down a dingy corridor and through a large set of doors.

In a matter of moments Blake had found herself inside a large hall, surrounded by long canteen-style tables and low industrial lighting.

But she wasn’t alone here….

Blake got given a sharp shove into the centre of a large group of men and women of all shapes and sizes, who merely leered at her menacingly, some of them brandishing weapons of varying degrees of unfriendliness.

She didn’t doubt that the infamous Negan wasn’t part of the crowd too.

But despite the descriptions of him, people banded around camp, Blake had never laid eyes on him. Trying to keep away from the Saviours as much as possible.

She gave an instant gulp, twisting her head around, this way and that, her heart thudding inside her ribcage.

She felt a swell of nausea hovering in her oesophagus.

Was this it?

Was she about to find that her fate was to be the same as Glen or Abraham’s? Two men she had barely met, and yet their demise was the stuff of gruesome legend, still whispered around Alexandria daily.

Blake could feel all eyes on her. Everyone watching her…all of them eerily silent.

As if waiting for something…

But what?

But her questions were almost instantly answered when a figure stepped forwards and causing her to take a step back in fright….

She turned her head and blinked for a second…freezing in place….like a rabbit in the headlights…

“D-David?”

She could barely get out the word.

For there he was her fiancé of three years.

David.

With his sandy hair and piercing blue eyes.

Smiling…

Blake gave another uncontrollable gulp and took a sudden step back.

What was going on?

Why was he here? Why were the Saviours letting him speak like this?

“Hi baby,” he said, his voice steady, and his tone firm. Looking like this was the most natural thing in the world for him.

Blake peered up at him…the man she loved…and yet right now…he looked just like the other men here….he looked at home….

Her green eyes flickered over his features, her eyes filling with worry, her heart still hammering.

She didn’t answer him.

But his smile barely flickered.

And that made her uneasy.

“I’ve made us a deal,” he said after a moment or two had passed, and the people standing all around began to stir. “Negan and the Saviours here have said that they’ll give us sanctuary if we give us some information on Rick…and the rest of his people….. back there in Alexandria.”

Blake felt her heart plummet into her stomach.

Her eyes widened as she stared up at David.

What was he doing?

“Information?” she said almost bitterly, a frown appearing between her brows.

What was his MO right now? He didn’t particularly look scared…scared enough to be trying to think of anything to save their lives. No, he was standing there being allowed to speak. As if they had already accepted him as one of their own.

Blake scowled, breathing hard, her hands balling into fists at her sides.

David stood his ground, giving a small sigh.

“Negan has offered us-” he began, his words slow and patronising.

But Blake was angry.

She wasn’t Rick’s biggest fan, but his people were good and kind and only wanted what was best for one another. Why after they had taken them in…fed them…clothed them… So why would David turn against them like this? Offer up information they didn’t have?!

Neither David nor Blake were involved in Rick’s meetings….neither of them had any more information than the Saviours did.

What kind of game was he playing?

“I don’t give a fuck what Negan has offered us!” Blake snarled furiously.

And with that she took a step forwards, glowering at him.

The woman stood almost nose to nose with him, tall and blonde and angry. She could feel the fire burning inside her…

…More angry than she had felt in a long time….

But she should have known what was coming….she always knew what was coming…..

And before she had time to say anything more, David had struck her sharply across the face with the back of his hand.

Blake gave a small whimper but didn’t scream, instead just doubling over and clutching at her painful cheek, as jeering and laughs were murmured from the crowd of surrounding people.

“You realise they’ve offered us a choice?” said David in incredulous voice, taking a step towards her, causing her to stare up at him darkly….. just as the two men from before grabbed her arms once again, twisting them both up behind her back. “And they don’t do that lightly either. I’ve had to negotiate for this, y'know!”

The men, of course, sensed her hostility and her unwillingness to obey, and so began to pull her backwards, back out of the room once again.

Blake stared up at her fiancé in disbelief, his blue eyes steely, his jaw now set.

“Either we give them the information they need,” David continued, shaking his head. “Or they keep you locked up in that fucking cell until you do.”

Blake paled, her mouth feeling dry.

She had nothing to give to them. No information of any sort.

Even if she lied, they would see through that sooner or later.

She was of no use to them. Why had David even told them she was?!

“There’s also a third choice,” he called after her, just as she was roughly pulled back through the double doors. Losing sight of David and the crowd instantly.

But what Blake hadn’t noticed, was one person watching the commotion from the balcony high above ….

…a man who blinked his chocolate eyes…his lips twitching up into a grin….as he watched Blake get dragged from sight…

…..a man with a baseball bat covered in barbed wire, swinging limply from one hand…

………………………………

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in this. Next chapter coming soon (or you can find meaand the full story on fanfic .net as KittyKatZorse)

[lyriumlotus]

A New Dawn: Asunder

CHAPTER TWO:    {A day on the town and to new friends}  (AO3)

After some furious scrubbing and a long relaxing soak, into fresh clothing, Amanita felt a great deal better. The defeated mood from earlier had all but left her, along with the dirt and grime of the past few days.

Now, she stood, outside of her dorm building, hands on hips,

breathing in lungfuls of fresh air and basking in its dazzling clear blue sunlight.

Blue sunlight may have been a bit of a stretch, for the sky actually shimmered many colours.

Soft hues of blue, pink , green and purple.

Though the city from outside of the gates, seemed hidden in mist,

Inside its giant protective walls was another story altogether.  

Magic, no doubt was what contributed to this strange weather pattern.

For outside the walls, it was nearing the end of Winter.

Whilst within, it felt and smelt, more like the middle of summer.

Further into the City, well past the many towns and buildings,

she spied the main.. Palace? Kingdom?

Whatever they called it, the heart of the great New Dawn Arlathan.

Where it was said that Mythal still in some form or other guided and watched over her people,

along with her fierce general Fenharel and his compassionate heart, at his side.

Though, Amanita didn’t much expect she would ever be allowed to venture so far into that domain,

since it was more heavily guarded and protected then the rest of the city seemed to be.. she instead, contented herself with being thankful for being allowed to wander the city freely, as was.

Making her way down a smaller pebbled street, she spent her time, stopping to marvel at the occasional mosaic mural or highly decorative water fountain, with half a dozen rainbow coloured fish that swam and danced around its crystallised blue and pink water lilies.

Dipping a finger into the cool fresh water, she realised with a start, that the fish were not even real, as their images rippled into a blur of muted colour, before settling again when the waters calmed.

Bizarre thing to spend magical energies on. She mused.

The warm scent of baked bread was enough to draw her attention away shortly after,

and, following the direction of said scent, tummy rumbling all the while no less,

brought her out into yet another market area.

It was possible, she realised, that the market area she had first spied upon entering the city, was not infact the main one at all.. and that.. the city itself was large enough, that many of them were probably scattered throughout.

This one was smaller then the last though.  

And apparently, happened to be occupied by many bakers and sweet candied sellers.  

She passed by delicacies unfamiliar to her, written in eloquent names that she dared not even attempt to speak.

Many looked familiar enough all the same, with glazed custard fruit tarts, jams, creams and sugar coated pastries and bread rolls.

She simply had to try one, her stomach informed her urgently.

Else she might keel over from being so famished.  

Digging into her robes, she fished out her coin pouch and drew nearer to the next stall.

Eyes already set on the freshly displayed breads. Still cooling away on their racks.

“Excuse me? If I may. How much for one of the loaves?” She asked the ruddy cheeked burly male setting the newest batch into the oven.  He side eyed her, pulling off his gloves then tossing them to the side “Bought seven coins, Miss. For the smallest ones” He gestured to the ones off to the side.

Amanita rummaged out the coins needed and handed them to him with a smile.

Accepting the wrapped bounty. She thanked him, then stopped at another stall, to buy a slab of wrapped butter.

As she awaited her change.  

She felt a presence behind her, and a deeply rich male voice spoke, alittle too close to her ear causing her to jump.   “You know, he overcharged you a helluva lot back there, right?”

She spun to face him,

finding herself staring into the face of one particularly handsome young male elf.

Skin as dark as dark skin could be and a lopsided smile, revealing dazzling whites to match.

Dark hair that fell in tousled locks across amber eyes much like her own. eyes that were currently alight with mischief, as he clearly enjoyed her reaction… Gold earrings lined both pointed ears and gold bangles decorated his naked arms and wrists.  Strange clothing attire… he’d clearly ripped the sleeves off,  unless some place somewhere sold clothing already made like this.

No. Impossibly silly thought, in any given era.

Topped off with fingerless leather gloves and well fitted leather-skin trousers .  He certainly wasnt one of the Ancient Elvhen, yet neither did he appear to be Dalish by any means.

“P-Pardon???” She blinked. Confused.

He pointed to the wrapped bread loaf she held dearly.

“Ole swindler sells those loaves for three coin. Yet he charged you seven.

Total stingy bastard.  You gotta keep your wits about you, y’know?

Unless you want some of these assholes walking all over you…

because…. trust me.. If they can, they will. “

A wink as he continued;

“Next time I suggest the baker around the corner there. Shes a sight prettier and treats all customers fairly and equal regardless of where they may come from..”

Well, she didnt know what to say to all of that.

“I- I’m new here.. “ She dipped her head in a light bow

“Amanita Lavellan. And you are?”

“Ahh”

He bowed in turn

“It’s an honour to meet one of Clan Lavellan. I am Ellas’elera, and I hail from Rivain, Incase you couldn’t already tell”

She couldn’t, honestly, but she wasn’t going to admit as much.

“Well, Thank you, Ellas’elera, I’ll keep that in mind next time I need to buy anything”

He beamed.

“I take it, Miss Lavellan, that being new to the area, means you don’t particularly know anyone here yet either? Eh?”

She shook her head “Just Amanita is fine, & yeah I only arrived the other day to be honest” “We’ll, My friend  and I, are much like yourself, ‘outsiders’, you see. So you’re quite welcome to join us if you’d like? And, if you ain’t got nuthin’ else goin on that is?”

“Truly? You wouldn’t mind?” She tilted her head, peering up at him surprised.

Hardly wanting to say no to such a request. It never hurt to know more people. He shook his head

“Nah. Won’t mind at all. I know it  can be quite unsettling to be the new kid in town.”

He rubbed his chin, thoughtful like,

“I’ve been here almost a full two seasons.. and Lailani, at least half the year now….”

He waited till she pocketed her coin pouch, then offered to carry her butter.

“We were just sitting down for a break, ourselves anyway”

He called over his shoulder as he started leading the way.

She noticed the sword strapped to his back this time, as she followed behind

“Oh.. A Swordsman?”

“Did the sword give me away?”

He laughed, slowing enough for her to keep pace

“What style do you practice?”

She asked curiously, because there was a saying that you could tell a lot about a person by their craft and class, and also, because a class was how many made their coin or provided for their families.

He took a moment to answer her, mainly because they had to cut through a crowd of students on their way to or from class. A scattering of spirits, mingled in amongst them.

“Swordplay?, Wouldn’t really say I practice one method.”

“Oh?”

“Well, If a style of swordplay interests me… I will study and learn what parts appeal to me , then leave out the rest… the junk… until I find another style and another..  Its… ‘mixed’ swordplay. If you will.“ “I had no clue there was such a thing as mixed swordplay...”

“Didn’t really see much point in learning an entire single method, when most swordsman tend to favour few techniques, rather then incorporate all teachings into each battle anyway. We always stick with what works best for us I guess. Only difference I have, is learning enough of other styles to give me an edge if one style doesn’t work on an opponent. Or, If my opponent gets accustomed to my current technique, I can always then switch it up to one he or she isn’t so familiar with.

…. Make sense?” He looked to her.

“I- Yes…. Yes it does” Smart. She would have to consider trying some of this as well.

“And what of you?” He nudged her lightly

“Trained in the methods of the Rogue. Not strong enough for combat with swordplay, but I’m pretty good with daggers” She pipped up.  

Her Clan had often called her nimble and proficient.

Straight for the kill or slowly wear down the heavy hitters until they made a single mistake, was her usual methods.

She was proud of her talent.

A talent that also took her away from the Clan for a time when the Great War began.  

“Ahh.. Got it. So don’t go pissin` you off any time soon then aye? You Rogues are well known for being a helluva crafty bunch after all” He teased before pointing to a large open gate, leading into a massive courtyard garden, about three open field sizes in length.

She followed through, taking in the odd beauty of the place.

Some elves sat on the soft kept lawns and others sat on marble benches and seats,

surrounded on all sides by greenery and strangely bizarre flowers of every size and colour imaginable.

“What is this place? I’ve never seen anything like it...” She gasped

“Hmm?” Ellas’elera followed her gaze “Ah yes, Really something else. Isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“They call it something like ‘Paradise of the people’ , but really, Its sort of more like some kinda garden experiment workshop.”

She shot him a confused look.

And He continued trying best to explain.  

“None of these flowers, or plants can be found in the wild. Everything you see here was created by someone with magic. Powerful magic. Even the lawn you walk on, if you could believe it”

He chuckled plucking one of the flowers they passed, only for it to magically dissolve from between his fingertips and regrow itself to the plant it was plucked from, within mere seconds.

Amanita nearly bumped into him, for getting distracted by the magically self growing flora.

“But… its the closest thing you’ll get to actual nature here.. So hence.. its where   Lailani and I, usually spend a good deal of our free time.. especially, when we find ourselves alittle homesick”

He commented.

As bizarre a place as it was, she could see his meaning behind it.

Nothing like home, but better all the same, then nothing at all.

Ahead of them, sitting alone at one of the marble tables, by one of the gardens statued dragon fountains, another equally beautiful elf shot up their hand, waving the two over.

This surely must be Lailani, Amanita realised.

Ellas’elera took one of the benched seats, tapping the empty space beside him, for Amanita to join them.

“Lailani, This is Amanita Lavellan. …. Amanita, this is Lailani Lyandria”

Lailani looked to her, a soft smile on her even softer face

“Hello.”

“Its wonderful to meet you, Lailani…. And .. Lyandria? I don’t believe I have heard the name before” She sat, placing the bread down.

“Thats probably because its not actually a real one..” Ellas’elera commented, elbows on table, chin propped in his hands.

“It is real, in a way. I took it for myself.” Lailani responded, shy blush to her face as blue eyes twinkled with wonder. “Originally, I came from Orlais. And as you could probably imagine.. my kind didn’t exactly have the best living conditions there. I belonged to a older Mistress. She died not long before the war. Old age, I think.  

After it, when the masters fell. I left the city and travelled, taking the pilgrimage here with others of my kind until we found our new home, in the free marches.”

“Then its a beautiful name, and it suits you perfectly” Amanita concluded. It was, a big deal for city elves to have an identity of their own, after all. Naming oneself probably helped give them back a piece of that power and freedom over themselves that was once taken away. It was a small, but tremendously powerful step in a better direction at least.

“And you? Lavellan? Does this mean you knew or grew up with the Lady Herald, Lavellan?”

“Wellll… We came from the same clan, yet it would be a great mistruth to say I knew her…

In actual truth, we barely spoke. She was first inline to eventually be Clans Keeper, after all.. A mage of her talents.. So for the majority of her time.. she was under Clan Keepers teachings.”

Amanita unwrapped her breadloaf and, slipping a flipknife from her inner pockets, proceeded cutting the bread, and then the butter , to place in the centre of the table, offering the other two to help themselves.

“I was rogue, also.. So.. a good deal of my own time in the Clan was hunting or foraging for food, or… you know… keeping lookout for human groups or demons that wandered too close.”

She finished, smearing a generous amount of butter onto one of the thick slices of bread.

By the Forbidden Gods, did it smell so good.

She had to quickly tuck in, lest the butter, warmed by the bread, could dribble down her fingers.

Not a difficult thing to do, since it tasted even better then it smelt.

Ellas’elera took no convincing, comfortably helping himself, whilst an embarrassed tummy grumbling Lailani needed to be encouraged further to help herself by Amanita,

insisting she wouldn’t feel comfortable, if they both didnt eat too.

They spent the next hour or so, talking and laughing over silly things. Mostly about what brought them all here.

Ellas’elera, was looking to hone his skills and techniques more, and to also teach something in return.

Lailani was a gifted mage who was teaching the young ones, alternative magic. For they were after all, awoken or born into a world where every other inhabitant had entirely different styles of battle and its laws and rules, to what their parents or elder teachers had once known, before their long slumber.

And Amanita. Well. She sighed, describing how she had come to teach, how the Dalish lived.

Their stories and their history. Only to be met with an empty classroom.

“How Am I to teach. When no one wants to listen?” She asked the other two.

Ellas’elera spoke first.

Taking the sword from his back, to lovingly admire its craftsmanship.

There are rune markings carved into its steel and they light up briefly when his fingers brush across them, as if responding to their wielders touch like a loving pet.  

“Y’know, I had the same trouble when I arrived here too.. No one wanted to bother with an outsider, though no one out right dared say so of course…. So instead, I went asking about,

trying to find who the best of the best was.

The most respected teacher of swords here.

Ended up in one of his classes, eventually.

They called him Teacher Sahren, ironically enough. “ He chuckled some, remembering back to the encounter.

“So, I go in there, acting alittle more arrogant then usual. Knowing full well this would probably get Teacher Sahren to notice and try to make an example of me to the other unruly arrogant students there. Which he did.” Ellas’elera sheathed the sword to his back, again.  

“Only, didn’t quite work out so well, did it?

Well for him, it didn’t. For me? It worked out wonderfully for me.”

That deviously cheeky grin had returned to his face once more.

Amanita had to resist reaching over to pinch his cheek.

Instead contending herself to listen to the rest of the story.  

“So, He brings me to the front of the entire class, offers me a dullen blunt sword and requests that I try to best him in sword to sword combat, against his own equally dullen blade.

I obliged, then, repeatedly disarmed the man, infront of his very own students.

No small act by any means I assure you, as he hadn’t garnered that kind of reputation for nothing.

He eventually lost his cool after I showed him up the seventh or eight time though,

and kicked me out cursing and sneering in pure rage, the whole while.

By the next morning, rumour had already spread, and sure enough,

I arrive to find I have actual students, ready and eager to learn something new.

Do they respect me more?  Probably not…

Buuut… they hold their tongues and they tolerate me alot better now, at least.

You just gotta find the right angle though, give them something they haven’t seen or have need or use of, and they’ll eventually come around.”

Lailani nodded when he finished then turned to her and spoke.

“Children are usually more ready to accept new things then older people, so I chose to work with them. I love children, even back when I was a slave, some would sneak me treats and delicious food, when their parents weren’t looking. I had minded or taught some of the human children, back when I was young too. So I had alittle experience, and knew this was what I wanted to do.

They are usually very bright and always always curious… They ask so many questions.. and are forever eager to learn. Smarter then most elders I’ve ever known too.. Myself included at times.” She smiled lightly

“I was even able to teach them how to use their magical abilities to create art.

You see, Ice mages can make ice sculptures. Fire mages can use their magic to create blown glass art. Those with the ability to create and make lightning are even learning to fashion art from something so simple as dry sand, that, if you could believe it, actually turns into stone crafts, and those with healing, regenerative magic, are learning how to repair and rejuvenate damaged art pieces or even the occasional furniture or decorative piece they may accidentally break at home.  

Soon, we are going to practice teaming up in groups, to see what mixed magic can be created together!”

Amanita could tell from the way Lailanis’ eyes lit up as she spoke, that she really was passionate about working with children. And why not. They are the future, after all, and it was exciting to imagine how different the world would be under their leadership and guidance, should the older generations of any people, not hinder their progress in any way.

“I even make my own art from time to time, using my fire crafting, which I sometimes sell down at the markets…  makes quite a bit of gold for me too, because theres always someone looking to own something unique or different in their homes”

She beamed at the other two then took a sip of her honeyed drink.

“Thats a clever idea, I should look into finding work here too.. I mean, I know we get paid decent enough coin, regardless, for our time here, enough to cover shelter and food.. but it wouldn’t hurt to make alittle more, and keep busy so I don’t look or feel like some kind of slacker”

Ellas’elera snapped his fingers

“Oh, right! You know you could try down at the Culture and economic centre, right?  

The Guidance volunteers down there, are the people who helped implement the ‘cultural exchange’ plan, between our peoples, in the first place.  Well, there’s another centre there that also helps resettle their own people into jobs or find work that suits them. I’m sure they’d help you as well, if your willing. Can take you down there myself, tomorrow too if ya like?.

I have some letters to send home, anyway. “

Amanita nodded “Yes. Thank you! That would help me a great deal!”

  The rest of the day, Ellas’elera and Lailani both, had shown her around the city.

Not the entire city, for it was too large an area to cover, but the general area in which she lived, or would be working. in order to help her know her way around.

They had Various Bars, Scholar classes, Political podiums where they would all gather to debate.

Art museums, Libraries.. so many libraries.. builders working on newer structures, armour and weapon craftsmen, the market places too, were many in number, she thought she would become dizzy, trying to remember everything. They also showed her how she could use the mosaic or mural artworks on the city walls to help know her way around, if she couldnt read the ancient peoples words on the street and city signs, as that was what they themselves usually did.  

And her own building, was easier then she realised, to find. since it was on the very outskirts of the city.. Meaning she only had to follow the massive castle walls surrounding the city , until she recognised her own street.

They finally bid her farewell when the light of day started to dim, and she hugged them both, thankful for their patience and general kindness towards her.

When they left, she wandered around by herself for a while, just enjoying the scenery really,

as the lights from the other night, started to slowly brim to life under her very aching feet.

Most elves paid her little mind, though she did see a few side eye her or downright stop and stare..

but she ignored them for the most part in return, smiling only at those who smiled to her.

She was fascinated by their fashion. It seemed that mages and scholars usually donned thick full-bodied robes, some, like that Abelas guy, wore gold plaited armour.

Most of them, carried weapons.. not that she remembered Abelas or the first Elvhen she met, having any.  Others didnt dress all that much differently from her own peoples. Though their symbols or sewn in patches were of different things to what the Dalish had.

Most of them were bald too. The women, children and men.

Those that had hair, usually had exceptionally long blonde, of white, red, black or brown locks,

wrapped up in bundles, braided  or plaited and held back with gold or silver, feathers or flowers of varied hair ornaments.  Kinds she hadnt even seen worn from wealthy Orlesian folk.

Though, she imagined, if any ‘had’ the chance to visit here, they would be quick to take these new ‘savage’ styles back with them.

Thankfully, the elvhen were very particular about whom they allowed into their gates.

Mind you, despite this, she believed, she had seen the occasional dwarf or Tal vashoth amongst the crowds too. So, clearly, it wasnt only elves, that were accepted into here.

Finally when she believed her feet could carry her no more, did she return to her building.

Eating what last remained of her bread and butter, then turning in for the night.

All things considered. It hadnt been a terrible day.

She had her work cut out for her, in regards to not having any students yet,  

but at least she met some wonderful new friends.

And the city still held many wonders and possibilities to explore and see.

Tomorrow morning, she would see about getting work.

Tonight however? She would sleep like the dead.

[urban-sere]

Arctic Night Half Marathon - Tromso, Norway

The days of total darkness 300km inside the Arctic Circle where the sun doesn't show itself for a whole month.

Introduction

I was lucky enough to meet Alison when I joined my local running club ‘Stamford Striders’, she was the first person to welcome me.  So some four years later it was with great sadness that I heard of the passing of Alison Regan via the club website mail shot.  That name ‘Alison Regan’ probably means very little most people but to anyone who met her she was special, friendly and mad about running.  Married with children she was as ordinary as each of us but in a special way.  What affected me most about the loss of Alison, bearing in mind I’d not seen her or her husband Jim for some time, was that she was about my age and was struck down with a rapid illness over only a few months.  As I sat and pondered what had happened I suddenly became very aware that I was so lucky to be alive and that I should stop putting off those things that I had for so long.  We never know when the end is coming.  The result was a short list of accomplishments I wanted to achieve and signing up to the Arctic Night - Half Marathon in Tromso.  And so, this is where this story really began.

As Tromso is such a long way north I had decided to make a trip of it and planned to do some Telemark Skiing while there to.  Having had the idea I then needed to ensure I wouldn't back out and I’ve personally found that telling everyone what ‘the plan is’ doesn't give me any room to wriggle out of it or to quietly forget.  That was all a few months back and as I sat in Oslo airport awaiting my transfer to Tromso and watching the sun set for the last time for a week, it all became a reality.  At this time of year Tromos is bathed in darkness 24/7 and not until the week after I return home will the sun show itself; even then its only up for 11 minutes!  

Arrival in the Arctic

As my flight descended in to the island of Tromso and its windswept airport, I knew from the turbulence alone that the whole experience would be exactly what I was expecting and so much looking forward to; that feeling of taking risks but also of being alive.  After collecting the baggage and my companion, Simon, we got a taxi to our hotel in the centre of town - no mean feat with 210cm skis in tow...  

After a very quick unpack and deciding that we had earned the fact, we headed to the nearest bar and found O’leary’s, a sports bar showing ski jumping competitions and ably staffed by “Ollie” a Brit from, would you believe it - Kettering.  After several beers at a ridiculous price and all our money later we headed for home. feeling alike we were ready to face that Arctic and all it could throw at us...  The temperature being a chilly minus 8.

Fast-foward 6 hours to a rather barmy 0900 hours as we awoke, the temperature was a  crazy PLUS 1 and forecast to rise to an almost bearable PLUS 2.  BUT we had to contend with rain and as the windchill was taking the temperature way below zero as soon as it fell, it was turning to ice.  “What are you planning on running in” I asked over breakfast and and together Simon and I discussed and decided that we should at least consider getting spikes for our shoes.  A quick walk (icy waddle) along the high street and we found ourselves at an outdoor chop where we almost walked straight into a display selling over show running spikes, ‘Jackpot’.  Eyeing the price we quickly mused the prospect of leaving them till later but as we considered that prospect there was another couple of Brits asking the same questions we had considered, “Hi, we are from the UK and running tomorrow, do you happen to have spikes that could... Blah Blah Blah!” and then another couple and then another... We had to buy them or risk losing them, so as we departed being wished lots of luck and many Kroner lighter in the pocket, we were at least equipped for the icy and worsening conditions under foot.  

Content, we set off for the sight-seeing and touristy bit and the inevitable cost, again ending the day at O’Leary’s bar...  Race preparation at it’s best, to which any Stamford Strider can attest.  We saw in the new day with a Gin and Tonic and for me a realisation that Alison Regan’s death had affected me in many ways but mostly that I was now going to live life to the fullest.  We really do have no idea when it will end and should always bear that in mind!

Arctic Night Half Marathon

As the big day dawned and we headed for breakfast we were becoming aware of the weather and all that it entailed.  Almost everyone we saw we now suspiciously eyes as potential runners and as we devoured our hearty breakfast we got our plan of action together.  We headed straight out to the registration at the town hall and collected our race pack with numbers but we drew the line at spending £50 on a glow in the dark Northern Lights race T-shirt...  The race wasn't due to start till 1500 hours but it was already getting gloomy and dark as we headed back to our hotel for more hydration, preparation and in Simons case a little nap.

As the start time of 1500 hours neared we pinned on numbers and checked we had enough of everything with us, clothing, spikes and the obligatory gels...  We walked up the street to the gathering crowd of similarly dressed runners and prepared to meet the challenge. There was just one large starting pen and as the gun went off there were slow runners in front of fast  and even walkers in the throng.  As I found space and fought for position I crossed the line and started my Garmin watch.  The race had begun and as we ran through the streets, the gathered crowd cheering us on, it was snowing and all seemed good.

We’re Off

The streets darkened as we neared the edge of town and up through housing where families were standing in the front of their houses cheering and ringing bells and the atmosphere was so friendly.  Large , what I can only describe as tea lights, lit the path and before I really took stock I was at the first water stop. It was sleeting and the hailing by this time and id taken my hat off as I was quite warm but the hard cold rain soon had my hood coming up.  

As I said hi and briefly chatted to everyone who I past and to everyone who past me, it was going to be the friendliest Half Marathon I’d ever run but certainly not the fastest.  Around the 5 mile point the front runner came back towards me and was running at a great pace; he must have been about 2 miles ahead of me.  The next thing to come into view was the airport where I knew there was a few switch backs and another water stop but more importantly a chance to see where Simon my colleague was in the group.  After the first switch back I caught sight of him and he was running very well considering it was his first half marathon.

Now on the homeward leg I braced myself as the wind bit hard and the snow and sleet bounced off my face.  Through half closed eyes  and gritted teach I pushed on trying desperately to keep up with a pair of local runners who were doing very well and about my pace.  I stayed with them for around 5 miles but as we cam back into town I could feel I had a blister on a toe and my thigh, soaked and numb with cold, were also telling me they’d had enough.  My pace slowed a little for the last mile but I didn’t care, the crowds were chearing and the final few hundred meters was again lit up with candles like a small runway with it slights on, ready to welcome home the runners.  I crossed the line, stopped my watch, shook the hand of the guy putting a medal around my neck and then the Red Cross were wrapping me up like an oven ready chicken!   I joined all the others who had finished for a drink and banana around a roaring brazier and finally looked at the time, two hours and just under three minutes.  Without doubt the slowest Half Marathon I’d ever run but in the conditions I had experienced and for the whole atmosphere - the most memorable.

A Moment of Thought

Not forgetting that it was the loss of a friend that had galvanised me into action and made this a reality, I retired to the bar for a well earned drink and to show off my medal - whilst thinking of the next excursion I intend to undertake.  We never know when our time will come and I urge everyone to make the most of every day.  That rainy day we put things off ‘til may never arrive!  We are all here for a finite period of time and I really don’t want to be that person who looks back with regret that I didn’t try hard enough or simply didnt get round to doing ‘this or that’. I am grateful to Alison for being the inspiration and I’m sorry for Jim, her husband, and everyone who knew or simply met her now that she is gone.  

As I spend the next few days Nordic skiing around the area and the snow is falling I wonder what else I will now be challenged to face and how much more of life I will live.