#in his silly little conductor uniform...
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why is he so vaguely soppy... his big wet eyes...
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the tiny exception - express crew
summary; there's only one exception to the few rules that the express crew have...
genre/extra tags; fluff, family dynamics, pompom is the softest rabbit thing in the universe i love them, papa welt (real), auntie himeko iykyk, the rest of the gang are the siblings, caelus learns abt the world with you :'), your honor they're just trash raccoons, selective mute! caelus
[platonic] [child (7-9)! reader]
[warnings; reader implied to have a tough life before getting taken in, trash digging mentioned/j]
word count; 608
a/n; whoops i made another hsr fic and it's another family fic :) im watching blue lock rn and it's definitely passed some expectations and i like it so far so that's good, there's some silly little guys i like (it's the crazies unsurprisingly) maybe i'll write something to test the waters for blue lock. this show wildin tho
i use caelus for hsr so im writing caelus, sorry stelle enjoyers
[rule 1; no touching pompom]
caelus learned that one after attempting to comfort the conductor. and yet,
"you're so squishy, pompom!" a pure as snow giggle rings in the train as the trailblazer watches you cuddle pompom. "so fluffy!"
"oi! don't hug me too hard!" they squirm, trying to loosen your grip.
"sorry!" you smile innocently as you look up to see the silver-haired trailblazer, watching you. "hey caelie!" you let go of pompom, running straight to him.
he's quick to pick you up as you stretch your own arms out towards him. he looks at you with curious eyes and then glances at pompom who is cleaning their uniform.
"i wanted to hug pompom! and i did!" you cheered. it earns you a silent chuckle from caelus. much to pompom's relief, he takes you away and to the passenger rooms.
[rule 2; don't drink mr. welt's coffee]
that rule was interesting. it was set because of you really. you tried the coffee once and almost cried. turns out you can't handle the bitter taste unsurprisingly.
"i know you're gonna do it, y/n." you freeze in his lap as welt continues to answer caelus's questions on the phone.
"but what if it tastes different?"
"it's still coffee, dear." you rest your cheek on welt's shoulder, face squished as you stare at the cup of dark liquid. welt doesn't say anything after that, a gentle sigh leaving his lips.
"did auntie himeko make it?"
"no, she didn't."
"then it will taste different." you reason but it doesn't sway the tired father figure. you reach to take a sip. you look up at welt as if expecting the male to stop you but he doesn't.
he knows. he knows what's going to happen and he's not going to stop it. (he does have a different drink on hand, ready for you.)
you take a sip.
and you cry. "papa!" he sets your favorite drink down, moving the coffee towards him. "why do you drink that?!" he guides your favorite drink towards you and you immediately drink it.
"i drink it because i like it."
"you have bad tastes, papa." you stick your tongue out at him.
"and yet you keep drinking it every time."
[rule 3; sleep on time!]
another rule in place for you. did you ever follow it? sometimes.
but you were only a kid.
"but i don't wanna sleep!" you tugged onto dan heng's clothes as if he would help.
he does not.
"you need to sleep. you're going to be all sleepy in the morning."
"but i want to stay with you guys!" dan heng picks you up into his slightly awkward hold. "please?" you drag out your pleas in hopes of convincing your older brother figure to let you stay up with the trio.
"sorry, y/n. but i don't think welt would allow that."
"but i'm not ti.. tired!" you yawn between your last word, your hands reaching to rub your eyes.
"you totally are, y/n." march cooed, taking you from dan heng's arms. "let's get you to himeko or welt, hm?" the trio is gentle to bid you a goodnight and a pat on the head (and kiss on the cheek from march) while you're taken to rest with himeko.
"there's the sweetie. awh, you must be exhausted." you're laying in himeko's arms, feeling sleepy with her warmth wrapped around you. "thank you march, have a good time with the others." march waves her goodbye before leaving with the trailblazer and dan heng.
"but i wanna go..." you frown, twisting and turning in the redhead's arms.
"how about you spend sometime with me, welt, and pompom before bed?" himeko suggests.
"are we gonna read some stories?"
"we'll let you pick."
"okay."
you fell asleep about 3 minutes later before you could even hear a story.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai x reader#hsr welt#welt yang x reader#welt yang#caelus x reader#hsr caelus#dan heng x reader#himeko x reader#march 7th x reader
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Introducing your station master & Magma event host!
Since there's already a lot of passengers visiting this station and I haven't spared much time to get to know my fellow submas fans over Tumbrl yet, an introduction would be in place!
I'm Jun, nice to meet you! *offers a hand for for a shake* I am a devoted submas artist & a monthly Magma event host! I go by ChooChooBoss everywhere (Twitter/Bsky/Twitch/Ko-Fi)!
This will be a long post! I will write a short intro as well which you can just skim through but here is a more in depth view how I got into submas, my other interests and life in general, in case you'd wish to know more about your conductor on this silly train!
How did I get into submas in the first place?
PLA. I met this certain mysterious & cool fellow time traveler and got curious! After the cave scene I went to read his Wiki, found out about Emmet, and... yeah. The emotional impact blasted me right out of a miserable cycle I was going through back then and set my soul on fire!! A month later I set up my first art account on Twitter, and the rest is history. They've become my greatest source of strength and inspiration and I enjoy drawing them every single day!
I love both twins very much! I tend to vibe with Ingo a little more than Emmet, but I draw Emmet more. People say I remind of butler Ingo the most, hehe. I certainly don't mind because I'm a big fan of butlermas!! In fact I got into submas & started playing Pokémon Masters EX in April 2022, a week before butler Ingo banner rolled in, so they truly got a special place in my heart ahah! (pssst draw more butlermas for me pls pls pls-)
However I don't draw warden Ingo as much as I would like to. I still get pretty emotional over his fate ahah, I can't draw him without a single tear! This sweet & kind man leading a good life and being an inspiration to others has been torn from literally everything he had for seemingly no reason apart from his name, clothes and the muscle memory and even those are barely intact. It seems like a miracle he's still standing and breathing after put through everything judging by the wear and tear on his uniform and body. Despite all that he carries a positive attitude, assists everyone in need, and does his best to help people and pokémon understand each other, unconditionally... Oh, my face is wet again...
My other interests besides submas?
Monster Hunter! Zelda! Genshin Impact! Super Mario! Trine! Crash Team Racing! And many many more! My favourite genres are platformers, kart racers, and action games, with a side of rhythm games. I'm a big fan of co-op games! I also watch my sis play JRPGs!
Monster Hunter is the dearest to me out of all. I've been hunting for well over a decade starting from MHFU. The games have charmed me with their incredibly satisfying combat system, world building, creature design, great attention to detail, character customisation and the games being nearly fully co-op!!
Other things I do:
Pokémon is practically the only turn-based game I enjoy, mainly because of the characters and collection aspect. However!! I adore Pokémon Colosseum (the first pkmn game I ever played!) and it's double battle focus, so The Indigo Disc has been a delight after the long starvation for double battles, coming up with different combinations makes the battles much more fun to me!!... I sound like Emmet here do I ahahah! We also share the fact we are both left-handed!
Shuffle dancing, daily pull-ups, and expanding my ever growing VGM collection! I also enjoy traveling and taking photos to keep as a diary! I've played piano in a music school for 9 years, and I can also play kalimba. I've done casual boxing, gymnastics, horse riding and medieval swordfighting. I used to read comics/manga and watch movies and anime but nowadays I barely do that, I just rather use that time for drawing instead of just sitting and watching, unless I have company!
I share the apartment with my anxious brother and our two sweet female cats, Laku (11, stubborn and cuddly) and Kalevi (21, demanding and full of love) in a city center. My parents are both entrepreneurs and run a farm in the countryside & I have 4 siblings with me as the middle kid!
Where can you meet me?
I am a game artist by profession, with 4 yrs of studies and roughly 7 years of EXP in the field doing game art, UI design, character/prop design, in mobile games as well as PC titles, 2D and 3D. At the moment I am looking for work; I keep up the motivation and learn new skills by running my art accounts while looking for new opportunities.
I hail from the land of darkness, snow, salmiakki, metalheads and renownly reserved people, Finland! (UTC+2)
Despite having my roots here I am pretty much the opposite of a typical Finn in almost every sense ahah! I'm a small guy who's not afraid talking to strangers and laughs a lot. And I dislike coffee for the contrary, it's very popular amongst finns.
With the inspiration from submas I've finally stepped into the world of cosplay so you can usually meet this small and excitable Ingo in the biggest local conventions, Desucon and Tracon! Come say hi!
About my social battery:
I'm both social and socially anxious ahah! I love making new friends and talking to all sorts of people and writing comments, and gathering together with my mutuals to do cool stuff together! However my social battery is very small... I often struggle with my AD(H)D and anxiety issues, so my replies can be extremely slow. I'm easily overwhelmed when life gets busy and I deal with it by withdrawing to minimise the the stimuli and then sorting my stuff out one by one. This is a frustrating shortcoming, but I'm working hard to find a balance I can maintain without getting exhausted. Please be patient with me! If you don't hear from me in a while, please don't take it personally! In fact, it makes me really happy if you contact me, for any purpose!
Which pronouns do I go with?
I go by they/them! I am also aroace, so if I appear to show any sort of romantic interest, it's definitely not that. I love meeting new people and am quite interested in people in general so I'm excited to get to know you better, but the thing is... I have been confusing people on several occassions for saying things that could be taken as flirting. I am terribly sorry for that, that's just the way I show how I care!
I don't really identify myself by any specific gender either, but rather by my roles or interests (Magma host, submas fan, game artist etc.). Submas encouraged me to enjoy dressing formally even if I'm just sitting at home, because I love formal clothing in general and wearing them makes me feel confident and stand taller! I usually wear collar shirts and black or white slacks.
More about my AD(H)D:
I don't have an official diagnosis but deal with the same problems as AD(H)D people do; poor work memory, dissociation, hyperfocus (drawing and people), sleep deprivation, impulsiveness (juggling too many things and going with the wind), getting sensory/information overloads, and feeling like I don't fit in. I figured it out after I finished school & lost my job for that I am unable to handle big tasks without anyone giving me directions. It has taken a while but I've figured out things that help me manage my daily life as well as have a medication that mainly boosts my capability to get things started which is another great struggle ahah.
How do I manage to keep myself on track?
I use a Pomodoro timer to keep up a good flow and remember to take breaks! This is what I use the most:
I should set it up on my tablet as well. I think it's really cool to see how many hours I have actually put into drawing! Last year I clocked in well over 3k hours, ahaha!
How to catch me?
Right now I have great difficulty managing replies, but usually you can reach me by DMs! I check Discord and Twitter the most often! However I must ask you to respect my current DNI status. It means I am really overwhelmed so I wish nobody comes asking for my attention until it has been lifted, unless it's really necessary. I really love talking to you all but I also have to accept and deal with my own limits strictly like this or it won't work out.
What am I working on at the moment?
Besides the holiday set I have several short comics under works as well as one big comic (100+ pages!). That one is my personal greatest goal! I started working on it in June 2022 and I have currently 40+ pages sketched and 60+ thumbnailed.
I was afraid of starting any comic projects before submas, but the sheer excitement over them carried me over that personal wall ahah!
The story's beginning and end are looking good and somewhat functional but there's still a lot to work to do and holes to fill in the middle before I dare to start fleshing out the pages. I have little experience in writing or comic making so I hope you forgive if some things don't make sense or the dialogue is a little on the nose so to say ahah!
The story will be packed with action with the overall tone being on the darker side, but it sure won't be lacking in humor! The project's main goal is to make it a celebration of all things submas & to prove to myself I can handle a big scale project despite my shortcomings!
This train has reached the terminal!
Thank you for riding my silly submas train!! I adore reading all your tags and comments! They brighten up my day & fuel my passion even more!! I hope to bring many more fun things for you to look forward to!! See you again soon!
ALL ABOARD!!
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Thomas and Gordon
In Shining Time Station, Matt is busy dusting off Mr. Conductor's tiny house. "You work so hard!" Mr. Conductor told Matt. "Would you like me to tell you a story about someone who works just as hard as you?"
Thomas is a tank engine with six small wheels, blue spiky hair, short stumpy boiler skates, and a blue sweatshirt. He works in a big station called Knapford on the Island of Sodor. His job is to fetch wagon-coaches for the other engines and then take them away when they are done pulling them.
Thomas thinks no roller-skating train works as hard as he does. He loves playing tricks on them, including Gordon, the largest and proudest of them all.
Thomas whistles rudely at Gordon. "Wake up lazy bones! Why don't you work hard like me?"
One day, after going on a large journey, Gordon arrived back at the sidings, very tired. He was just about to go to sleep in his heart-patterned underpants, until Thomas started jumping on his big fat belly.
"Wake up lazy bones! Do some hard work for a change! You can't catch me!" And off he ran, laughing.
Instead of going to sleep again, Gordon thought about how he could get back at Thomas.
One morning, Thomas wouldn't wake up. His very poorly drawn driver and fireman couldn't make him start. It was nearly time for the express. Stick people were waiting, but the coaches weren't ready.
His driver and fireman took off his nightcap and nightgown, then dressed him up in his uniform. At last, Thomas started.
"Oh dear, oh dear!" Thomas yawned.
"Hurry up you!" said Gordon.
"Hurry yourself!" replied Thomas
Gordon began making his plan. "Yes," said Gordon. "I will."
And almost before the coaches started moving, Gordon reversed quickly and held the first coach's coupling.
"Get in quickly please," he whistled.
Thomas stood behind the coaches. Gordon started so quickly, they forgot to let go of Thomas. Now his chance had come.
"Come on, come on!" puffed Gordon to the coaches. The line went faster and faster, too fast for Thomas. He wanted to stop but he couldn't!
Thomas let go of the coaches. Gordon saw him spiraling all over the other railroad track. He grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt as he pulled the express.
"Stop, stop!" cried Thomas. "Hurry, hurry!" laughed Gordon. Ruby, Peridot, and Garnet from JewelPet (don't ask why they're here) were standing on the viaduct, looking at Gordon tricking Thomas.
Ruby: What's going on?
Peridot: I don't know, but it's entertaining.
Garnet: Do they have popcorn stands on this island? I know it's the 1950s.
Poor Thomas was going faster than he ever was before. He was out of breath, and his feet hurt him, but he had to go on. I shall never be the same again, he thought sadly. My roller skates will be quite worn out.
At last, they stopped at the station. Thomas let go. He felt very silly and exhausted. Next, he stood on the turntable, thinking of the jewelpets laughing at him. And he ran onto a siding, out of the way.
"Well, little Thomas," chuckled Gordon. "Now you know what hard work means, don't you?"
Poor Thomas couldn't answer. He had no breath. He just puffed away slowly to rest, and had a long, long drink.
He went home slowly, and was careful afterwards never to be cheeky to Gordon again.
Based on the book by Wilbert Awdry, the Shining Time Station pilot and the episode starring Ringo Starr.
#thomas and friends#ttte#ttte humanized#fanfic#crossover fanfiction#ttte thomas#ttte gordon#shining time station#garnet jewelpet#peridot jewelpet#ruby jewelpet#jewelpet
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Rat- Chapter 2
Mirio TogataXreader
SFW
Previous Chapter
The morning half of school went by quickly, the morning training going relatively smoothly. You, Hado, and a few others were the only students able to completely destroy the wall, but everyone else was able to at least crack it. The quirks were all variations of mutations, emitter, and transformation quirks. Overall, the class was packed of the best of the best, there was no doubt of that.
After changing back into your uniform, you left the dressing room alone and wandered back into the normal classroom to gather some things before lunch. You wanted to do some more thinking and reading on some equipment ideas for your hero costume. You had told Hado you would sit with her, but some part of you hoped she would have forgotten and moved on.
You were about to turn the hall into a random staircase when you heard someone running behind you. You turned your head over your shoulder, trying to move out of the way. Of course, you weren’t going to avoid them. Hado ran up to you, her blue hair bounding behind her. She waved at you as she approached, slowing down.
“Amajiki said you would probably be here. He’s pretty smart. But not as smart as you, little book worm.” Hado poked the arm that you were using to carry two or three books. Amajiki, who had been walking behind her, caught up to you both.
“He said he’s on the roof. We should go.” Amajiki still didn’t look up at you as he spoke, he still seemed nervous, but you couldn’t blame him.
Hado grabbed the wrist of your freehand, dragging you along behind her. You jolted forward, still not anticipating the way she is so excitable. Being with Hado was what it felt like to be a teenage girl, something you didn’t seem to understand. She was happy to be at UA, she didn’t seem to have any sort of pressure built to be the best or to walk out a top 5 hero. She was sweet, the kind of girl you can never fully understand how she manages to be so sweet but you just trust her regardless. She was a firecracker of a person- her energy-based quirk being a practical extension of her personality. Despite wanting so desperately to be left alone, Hado refused to ever see you on your own.
The three of you traveled up the stairs, reaching a strayed door. You hadn’t passed many students on your way, it was safe to assume that not many students knew the roof was up here, let alone unlocked this way. Hado swung the door open and threw her hands up in the air, your wrist thrown up with it.
“Wow! Y/N, look at this view! The sky is so pretty!” Hado spun herself in circles, spinning you a little with her. You nodded softly.
“Yea, it is pretty-”
Amajiki passed you both and went to another part of the roof, sitting next to a different kid. You watched Amajiki walk, his posture loosening as he seemed to grow more comfortable. You remember Hado mentioning that he was going to meet a childhood friend, but for Amajiki to be so comfortable, he must be a good friend.
Hado stood over the edge of the building, her arms resting on the ledge. She looked down at the school below her. The small breeze blew her hair gently, the sun catching her face in a way that showed off her slight blush, the light reflecting off her eyes. You sat down some of your books and stood next to her, joining her. The school grounds below you were large, students sitting in the courtyard with their friends. You recognized a few of the students from your class, but a majority of them were unfamiliar to you. It was too nice of a day to be inside, and the first day jitters that remained were better shaken off outside.
“Why did you come to UA?”
You looked over at Hado, trying to pick out any kind of emotion in her face. She was still looking at the courtyard. She seemed somewhat tranquil, a soft smile on her face. It was a stark contrast to her normal energy- but somehow it was oddly just as energetic.
“Why did I come? I got accepted-”
She turned and looked at you, her chin resting in her palm. “I know that, silly! Why did you decide to come? You are so smart- dozens of schools would have probably killed for that brain you have. Why our school? Or, why a hero? You could have been a doctor or something.”
You had received offers from top academic schools. But while their academics were on top, their hero courses were subpar. “I don’t know, the hero course was better here.”
Hado smiled at you again. “I came here because I think if we didn’t start at the top, we would never get to the top. Hero society doesn’t like female heroes as much.”
You were a bit taken back by her bluntness. You had always noticed the weird disproportion of female and male heroes, and you knew there was a double standard- but somehow you hadn’t expected Hado to know that. Not only did you not expect her to be so aware- you didn’t expect her to base her entire education on trying to overcome it.
You felt a gaze on you again, you looked over your shoulder again, resting your head on your hand. There he was again- the kid from 1-B. His blond hair seemed more yellow in the sunlight, the contrast to Amajiki’s dark purple was almost humorous. Amajiki seemed distracted by a butterfly, studying it closely as it rested on his finger. His friend, however, was looking at you. When his gaze caught yours, he turned around again, the sudden movement scaring the butterfly that was occupying Amajiki’s attention. He tried to laugh off his mistake with Amajiki as you rolled your eyes. You had no idea who this kid was or why you were so much of his attention. His constant looking was becoming more of a hindrance.
Of course, Hado had taken note of the exchange.
“Do you know Togata?”
“Who?”
“The guy who was looking at you. He’s Amajiki’s friend- Mirio Togata.”
You shook your head and sat down against the small wall you had previously been leaning against. You pulled out a book to read. It was a bigger book, filled with diagrams and information about various pieces of hero gear. You were reading about the clothes used by Endeavor. You had no personal use for fire-resistant clothing but wanted to know about it anyway. Hado looked over your shoulder a bit.
“Support gear already? We haven’t even picked out hero names yet- “
“I like learning about it. I like knowing things-” You mumbled, underlining a few lines about heat insulation.
“That makes sense. You did score the highest academically-”
You nodded, flipping the page back to something about heat conductors that made their own electricity. You knew that Hado would benefit from something like this in her gear, but you also didn’t want to bore her. You swallowed the growing worry and took a deep breath.
“You know, they’ve developed this technology that can store energy over time and spit it back out later. There hasn’t been a hero whose needed it yet, so it’s a little undeveloped but-”
Hado turned around, slightly startled by the way you started a conversation. She smiled wide and sat next to you, looking at the book in your lap. She was visibly overwhelmed. You pointed at parts of the diagram.
“See, this part picks up the energy, and then it’s stored in the big arm part here. Then when you’re ready, you could use it. It would help keep you from getting so strained early-”
She smiled at you, drawing her knees to her chest. “That’s super cool, Y/N! Did you have ideas for your gear?”
You flipped through a few pages, landing on a page about Present Mic. “Sort of. I think that if I was louder, it would maybe help- so something like what Present Mic has-”
Hado nodded for a second, her face drawn into a perplexed expression. “Do you not know much about your own quirk?”
You shook your head. “It’s not exactly one you can train in your bedroom-”
Hado smiled softly. “Yea, I guess that’s a good point. If you ever want to work on it sometime, let me know.”
You looked at her, expression blank. No one had ever seemed so open to your quirk. It was the kind of quirk people squirmed at, the kind of quirk people compared to that of villains. It was a gross, vile, quirk. Hado didn’t see that, though. She actually wanted to be around you and your quirk.
You nodded softly, smiling small. She stood up, offering you a hand. “Class starts soon, we should head back.”
You took her hand, placing your books back under your arm. Hado called over to Amajiki, informing him it was time to go. He told you both to go on, something about following you later. Hado shrugged it off and pulled you along behind her.
Once you were both in the halls on the way back to class, she let go of your wrist. Her hands were behind her back and she swayed as she walked, simply unbothered. “It's nice knowing that Amajiki is relaxed sometimes.”
You nodded, “Yea, I guess.”
“He seems so much happier with Togata. But I don’t think I could blame him. Togata seems nice too.”
“He seems odd to me.”
Hado stopped walking and looked at you. “Odd?”
“Odd. something about him is off-putting.”
Hado caught back up to you, regaining her relaxed walking pace. She hummed out in slight confusion. “If you say so.”
She changed subjects again, settling her attention back to her curiosity about the lecture that would take place after class. You assumed it would be academics, but wondered who would be teaching them. There was no way they expected Mr.Aizawa to teach them all, right?
Once you and Hado had returned to class and settled, Amajiki entered into class. He had a small smile, but he was in a cowering stance again. The way he smiled made his face seem warmer. It was the kind of smile that made you smile despite yourself.
Class went quickly, your class was led from room to room for your remaining educational classes. Pro Heros taught them, they were pretty easy so far. They were mostly introductions and procedural lectures rather than academic content.
Before the end of the day, you all returned back to homeroom. You walked next to Nejire, Amajiki following behind. Hado was dragging her feet behind her, pouting. “Present Mic’s class looks so hard! I’m not even good at English. You have to help me, Y/N.” She tugged on your arm, practically dragging you to the ground. You shrugged her grip off your arm.
“When he starts giving assignments, I can help you I guess-”
Hado spun around and yelled out an excited thank you, practically pulling you and Amajiki back into your homeroom. You rolled your eyes, holding back a small smile.
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Snippet: Prince Yugi/Bodyguard Atem AU - New Year’s Ball
If you saw this post you already know about this AU of mine. The title basically says it all. Prince Yugi, body guard Atem, forbidden love, drama. ;D
While I do love the Egyptian setting I’m glad I got to explore another favourite time period of mine: the 19th century! What a refreshing change!
Take this as a little thank you for your support throughout this year. My little blog has now a lot more followers than I had expected. Thank you all for following me on my writing journey! I wish you a wonderful new year and lots of love, health, luck and kindness! :)
Puzzleshipping Fluff!
Yugi whirled through the sea of swooshing skirts and capes around him. In his arms he held a girl of his age in a teal dress and with blond, pinned-up hair. The music came to a fading halt and all the couples stopped and bowed to each other. Everyone clapped for the orchestra and its conductor.
“My prince, that was such a wonderful dance! May I have another?”, the girl said with sparkling eyes. Yugi scratched his cheek.
“Actually, Lady Rebecca, I'm a bit exhausted…”
“Oh, of course! Let us have some hot punch, yes?”, she said, linked her arm with his and pulled him off the dance floor. But a group of young women with lace fans and silken pouches blocked their way. They were all pouting and frowning.
“Rebecca, this is enough! This is your 8th dance with the prince tonight! Let others have a chance!”, the black-haired girl in the middle said. Rebecca's grip around Yugi's arm tightened.
“Just because you're jealous doesn't mean you have to ruin my evening, Vivian!”
“You're the one ruining everyone else's evening! You're not his fiancée so you have no right to always act like this! Besides, if the prince weren't so kind he'd have pushed you away a long time ago…”, Vivian said. Rebecca rushed towards her.
“You're lying! And who are you to say such things?! You're not his fiancée either…!”
As the discussion continued, Yugi stepped further and further away until he hurried through the crowd. He found a lonely spot between a statue and a painting and sighed.
In some distance he saw Atem, leaning against a wall and sipping on his champaign. He wore his ceremonial uniform in blue with white pants and black boots. He raised his glass at Yugi with a smile that wiped Yugi's worries away. Yugi approached him. Atem placed his drink on a nearby table and bowed with a hand on his heart.
“Your highness”, he said. “Once again quite popular with the ladies, it seems.”
“Urgh, they will be the death of me, I swear”, Yugi said and ruffled his hair. “What about you? I know at least a dozen people who had hoped to see a more casual side of you at this New Year's ball. You're not on duty tonight, after all…”
Atem played with the gold medal on his chest that marked him as the prince's Royal Protector.
“A good body guard should always be on duty, your highness.”
A pink tint appeared on Atem's cheeks. Yugi sensed a chance…
“Well then…would you protect me from that unit of poofy skirts over there and…dance with me…?”
The pink shade on Atem's face turned red.
“Y-Your highness, you know I don't dance at these balls. I'll only end up embarrassing you”, he said.
“I don't think so. I've seen you dance before”, Yugi said and chuckled. To the outside, Atem was always the man with the serious stare who never laughed and always rested a hand on his sword. Only Yugi and a few others knew he could also blush and stutter like this.
“Uhm…that was in private without hundreds of people watching…”, Atem said.
“We can pretend it's just us…”
Atem chewed on his bottom lip. Yugi's heart fluttered with the hope of Atem accepting the suggestion. But both turned their heads at the sound of a bell. Near the orchestra stood an elderly man.
“Now for the last song before we all head out for the Royal Lake! You all know the tradition: share the last dance of the year with someone special to thank them for their love, friendship or the kindness they paid you this year. So choose your partner…”
The crowd chattered and everyone asked another person to be that special someone for them. Some expected it, others gasped or blushed in surprise.
“My prince…! Where are you…?”, Lady Rebecca called. Yugi looked at Atem who's eyes were shifting over the floor. Disappointment punched Yugi in the stomach.
“Well, it was just an offer”, Yugi said and wanted to walk away.
“Your highness, please wait”, Atem said. Yugi turned and saw Atem stretching out his gloved hand. Joy bubbled up inside Yugi. “May I have this dance?”
Arms linked, they walked towards the dance floor. Some whispered as the two passed.
“Isn't that Royal Protector Sennen? But he's never danced before…”
“And with the prince too! How unusual!”
“Quick, someone tell the prince's club of admirers! I need to see their silly faces!”
Like all the other couples, Yugi and Atem got into the starting position. Atem placed a hand on Yugi's lower back while Yugi rested his on Atem's shoulder.
Yugi's gaze fell on Rebecca and Vivian and the girls around them. Their jaws had all dropped, causing Yugi to grin. He looked at Atem and his expression showed nervousness.
“Just focus on me, Atem. No one else”, Yugi whispered. A shy smile spread on Atem's face. The music started.
They began with the basic steps. To Atem's obvious relief, it was a slow piece. Still, his body was tensed up and his moves were wooden.
“There, you're doing great”, Yugi said and felt Atem slightly relax. Atem gave a little laugh.
“Should we try a spin?”, he said and Yugi nodded. The performed the move and Yugi found himself back in Atem's arms. How well-trained they were… Atem was probably strong enough to carry him… Their eyes locked. Atem's irises were red like a warm fire after a long walk in the snow. And what a perfect jawline and high cheekbones…!
To Yugi, everyone around them vanished, even the music faded into the background of his perception. Only he and the handsome man with the gold-brown skin across from him existed. Together they were floating over the floor. Yugi felt the need to be closer to Atem, to close that gap of propriety between their upper bodies. From Atem's longing gaze Yugi knew that his body guard was feeling the same… He wanted to pull Yugi closer and Yugi would be more than happy to indulge the wish…
But before that could happen, the music ended and it was as if Yugi woke up from a wonderful dream. Yugi returned to the hall with its chandeliers and paintings and all the other people. Atem bowed and Yugi realised he should do the same. They clapped for the orchestra. Atem shook his head, as if he too, had to suppress something too wonderful to be true.
“I think it's time to set off now, your highness”, he said.
“Y-Yes, of course.”
They made their way through the crowd and into a chamber where a maid was ready to help Yugi into his sapphire coat, lined with white fur. Another maid put on his scarf and brought his outdoor gloves while a third one gave his shoes a quick polish.
Atem put on his navy blue coat and feathered hat himself. He avoided Yugi's eyes as if he was ashamed of something. Maybe he had enjoyed the dance as much as Yugi…?
They stepped outside onto the stony veranda and a cold breeze greeted them. Behind a line of guards the other nobles were assembling as well and getting into their sleighs. At a statue, the queen was pacing back and forth. She wore a forest green dress under her dark grey cape. Her hands were hidden in a muff and her black, pinned-up hair was topped by a golden crown. She gave Yugi a smile.
“There you are, dear. I saw you shared your last dance with Atem. That was very kind of you”, she said.
“Yes. I guess it was”, Yugi said and looked at Atem in some distance, holding the reins of his tall, white horse. Now he was the prince's Royal Protector again, with a serious stare and erect posture. “So, are we ready yet? It's the same dawdling every year, right?”
His mother chuckled.
“That sounds like something someone my age should say.”
When everyone had assembled, Yugi and his mother got into the sleigh that was pulled by six horses. The other nobles would take the side paths while the one in the middle was reserved for royalty. The sleigh began to move and they rode past the barren, snow-capped trees, bushes and hedges.
They reached the gate to the outer parts that had been opened for the commoners like every year. They greeted Yugi and the queen with applause and Yugi waved at the smiling faces. His gaze fell on Atem, riding beside them.
He checked every direction, his brows furrowed in concentration. Royal guards were positioned everywhere and all the commoners had been checked for any weapons before entering. Yet, Atem displayed the same vigilance as always. Yugi wondered if it was out of duty to the royal family or maybe out of a personal desire to keep Yugi safe…
The sleigh came to a halt. They had reached the lake and the area was full of talking and laughing commoners. Some danced to the music of a band that played much more livelier songs than the orchestra at the palace. Others stood in line at food stands that spread the smells of sugary treats, fried meat, and fresh tea.
Near the jetty a stage had been built and decorated with fir branches. Yugi and his mother got out of the sleigh and entered the stage. Upon seeing them, the commoners cheered once more. Like the queen's body guard, Atem stood behind Yugi in a corner of the stage, one hand on his sword, the other behind his back.
The nobles were assembling in a restricted area to the left of the stage. As they walked there from their sleighs, the commoners admired their fine clothing and jewellery. A girl, sitting on her father's shoulders, pointed at Vivian's pink dress and said: “Look, daddy! What a pretty lady!”
Rebecca had already made her way to the front row and waved at Yugi. She wore an emerald green cape and bonnet and his her hands in a beige-coloured muff. Yugi raised a hand at her, then rubbed his palms together. Despite his warm clothing he was freezing.
Thirty minutes before midnight, the trumpeters played a short fanfare. The band stopped playing and everyone went quiet. All eyes were on Yugi and his mother. The queen took a deep breath.
“Welcome nobles and commoners to this new year's celebration! Behind us lies a year of many challenges but also many successes…!”, she said and held her speech. She listed many accomplishments of the country's politics. Yugi couldn't help but smile at those that he had worked to achieve as well. She left out some problematic issues but Yugi understood that at this event it was wiser to focus on the positive things. The people clapped when she had finished. “Now to the winner of the annual lantern contest. Once more, the children of the capital showed us how creative they are with all the wonderful designs they submitted. The most popular one this year has been built by Sonia of Red Leaf Elementary!”
Everyone applauded when a blond girl with pigtails stepped forward, holding her mother's hand and a round lantern that was bigger than her head. They entered the stage and both Yugi and the queen congratulated them. Yugi took the lantern Sonia offered and turned it in his hands. While the mothers talked, Yugi bent down to Sonia.
“So many stars…did you cut them all out by yourself?”, Yugi said.
“Y-Yes, your highness”, Sonia said, half-hidden behind her mother's skirt.
“You did that very well. Thank you for that beautiful lantern”, Yugi said and smiled. Sonia blushed, then came forward and pointed at some of the stars.
“I…I also made some purple…because I heard that's your favourite colour, my prince!”
She told Yugi more about the lantern with sparkling eyes. She was in the middle of the story of how she had asked all the neighbours for colourful paper when her mother tapped her shoulder.
“Time to go, sweetie”, she said and took Sonia's hand.
“Don't forget to make your wish for the new year on the fireworks”, Yugi said and stood up.
“I won't, my prince!”, Sonia said. She waved at Yugi as they left the stage and disappeared into the crowd.
“He's so good with children! As my future husband should be!”, Rebecca said and Yugi sighed.
“Be quiet, Rebecca! You can't even marry him! You're not a princess!”, Vivian said and poked Rebecca with her elbow.
“Well, neither are you!”
The two began to argue once more. Yugi and his mother walked down the jetty in front of them, he with the lantern and she with a lamp in their hands. The thick layer of ice on the lake had been cut open earlier today. At the shore, the water was already starting to freeze over again.
“We shall say good-bye to the old year like we welcome the new one: with hope and light”, the queen said. She took the candle from inside the lamp and put it inside the lantern. Yugi bent down and placed it on the water. It floated towards the centre and the people cheered, then stepped forward to launch their lanterns as well. Soon the lake was full of many little lights, similar to the starry sky above them.
Yugi looked at the clock of the bell tower in some distance. Only five more minutes. He and his mother returned to the stage.
“I'm sure Lady Rebecca and Lady Vivian have already thought of ways to lure you to the winter roses?”, the queen said.
“I suppose so���, Yugi said and rubbed his temple. To their right lay a secluded part of the royal gardens with many floral arches. They were blooming with flowers of a soft pink.
“It's just a silly custom to kiss someone under one of these in the night of the new year. Not a law”, the queen said. “If you're uncomfortable with rejecting them I'm sure Atem will take care of that for you.”
“Y-Yeah”, Yugi said and turned his head. Atem was still scanning the crowd while everyone else was watching the bell tower. No one could deny how handsome he was. But his serious stare and taciturn attitude managed to scare off his potential admirers. Despite that, Yugi knew that there was no kinder or more caring person at the palace…or in the whole world…
“One more minute”, the queen said and Yugi focussed on the clock like everyone else. The second hand was moving towards the number 12. Yugi couldn't help but smile.
“Three…two…one…!”, it came from everyone. With the stroke of the bell everyone erupted in applause. The first fireworks shot into the sky and burst into thousands of glowing sparks. Blue, green, gold, red, and all shades in between lighted up the sky one after another for a short moment. Yugi and his mother hugged and wished each other a happy new year.
They left the stage and joined the other nobles. Rebecca appeared beside him and grabbed his arm.
“Happy New Year, my prince! Have you already made a wish on the fireworks? I did! May we take a walk?”, she said with a broad smile.
“Well, I…”
Vivian appeared and smacked Rebecca's arm with her fan.
“How can you be so rude, Rebecca? I wanted to take a walk with the prince!”
“I was here first!”
Yugi chewed his bottom lip, wondering how to escape the two girls and the snickering nobles around them. Rebecca and Vivian stopped arguing when Atem stepped towards them. He bowed before Yugi, one hand on his heart.
“Your highness, there's a matter I need to talk to you about”, he said. Rebecca and Vivian pouted.
“Surely it can't be that important, Royal Protector Sennen”, Rebecca said.
“I'm afraid it is, my ladies”, Atem said and cut through Rebecca's grasp with a grab of her wrist that made her flinch.
“Well then”, Yugi said and followed Atem towards the arches where many lovers were now gathering to exchange kisses.
“I assume that was a rescue operation and there is nothing to talk about?”, Yugi said. Atem chuckled.
“Nothing serious at least. Was I correct to assume that you required a rescue?”
“Absolutely. I guess in that department my mother raised me a bit too well”, Yugi said and sighed. “But anyway, is there something you're looking forward to this year?”
“Serving you, of course”, Atem said. Yugi smirked.
“Apart from that?”
“Well…if you really choose to go on that diplomatic mission to Kallias…I hope to accompany you. I haven't seen the country I grew up in in four years”, Atem said with a smile that hinted at happy memories.
“Do you miss it a lot?”
“Sometimes. But it's fine. I found a new home…by your side, my prince”, Atem said. Yugi played with his scarf, hoping to hide the blush of his cheeks. Yugi's gaze fell on the queen in some distance. He stopped and so did Atem.
“I'm nervous about that mission. It'll be the first time I'll accept such an important task. I hope I won't disappoint my mother…and everyone else…”
Yugi's heart felt heavy at the mere thought.
“I have faith in you, my prince. And whatever happens…I'll be there for you”, Atem said and the words warmed Yugi from within like a cup of hot chocolate.
“My prince, my prince…!”, Rebecca and Vivian called and Yugi rolled his eyes. They gasped and attracted the attention of the other nobles. They all chuckled at Yugi and Atem. Yugi looked up and realised they were standing right under one of the rose arches. Yugi's cheeks glowed and so did Atem's.
“My, my! Looks like the Royal Protector gets two rewards from the prince tonight!”
“That would be inappropriate! Royal Protector Sennen is not a noble!”
“Oh hush, it's just new year's kiss!”
Yugi scratched his head, his thoughts moving back and forth. It would be against the etiquette…! But it was just a custom…and maybe his only chance to…
Atem took his hand and gave it a quick kiss. The nobles gave disappointed sounds and turned away. Yugi felt his intestines turn into stone. Atem cleared his throat.
“I believe that was the only acceptable solution”, he whispered.
“Y-Yes. It was…acceptable”, Yugi said. “Now excuse me, please.”
Yugi walked away from him, fast enough so neither Rebecca nor Vivian could follow him. He reached a dark corner of the shore and leaned against a tree. He looked at his hand.
Atem's lips hadn't even touched his skin, only his gloves. He had felt only a hint of warmth, nothing more. Curse these court rules! Curse Atem for always following them so closely! Curse himself for losing control of his emotions like this…!
He always managed to keep his feelings for Atem inside a cage but tonight they had broken free several times. He had to suppress them! It couldn't work out anyway. Yugi was a prince and Atem was his body guard. But no matter how often he told himself that, his heart always fluttered at the sight of Atem, whenever they sat next to each other and at the slightest touch. It was bliss and torture at the same time.
Yugi looked around, saw all the people praying as the fireworks above them were still booming and glowing. It was said that in the first night of the new year the gods were listening closely to all the wishes the people made…and if only the gods were listening…
Yugi folded his hands and looked up to the sky. He moved his lips, hoping the gods would hear his whispered wish among all the sounds of this cheerful night. Maybe even grant it…
#puzzleshipping fanfiction#blindshipping fanfiction#prince yugi au#snippet#okay but let me geek out here for a sec#if this were in german id have sooo much fun with how they address each other#atem would always address yugi with ihr because respect#yugi would address atem with sie in public and with du in private#yugis mom would always address atem with sie even when she uses his first name#shhh if you know german you might understand my geeking lol#oh and yugi would address his mother with sie#which sounds weird but they really did that back then lol at least the nobles#and his mom would address yugi with sie as well#maybe switch to du in certain situations#hihihihihi
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Shadow and Bone 5
Love you Kaz
“So you set him on fire” oh my god
I like this fabrikator. I mean I probably shouldn’t this early but I love when people make stuff 😭
WAIT I FORGOT WHY THE CROWS ARE HERE I KNEW THEY WERE AT THE PALACE IT JUST DIDN’T CLICK FOR ME
“No human being should ever be as proud as you are right now.” I love them both I love them both.
“It’s like butter week.” Alina, that’s the most charming thing you’ve ever said I love you now.
AHHHH JESPER IS RIGHT THERE. WOW I PICKED A BAD TIME TO FALL FOR ALINA.
“None, in fact.” NO ALINA TELL HIM ABOUT BUTTER WEEK! ALINA!
YES JESPER. I mean... probably no Jesper, but also yes
“She’s Suli” Zoya do you just enter scenes to be racist, dude?
“Is it my size?” “You have to ask?” Kaz....
Yesss a tailor and a fabrikator, a match made in heaven get it.
HI INEJ YOU LOOK INCREDIBLE IN YOUR UNIFORM
god I was like: come on burst into applause
and instead they crossed themselves, which. is far better honestly
ALINA: [summons the sun] Me, looking at Inej: she sure did!!!
Awww Jesper I’m glad you had a good time, bud. I know, I know, this is terrible for the mission but look how happy they are!! You deserve it. I hope no one dies.
Love to see someone pick a magical lock :hum:
Oh Mal.
uhhhh???????? why is this religious advisor here???????????????????????
It’s silly that standing close to each other is an intimidation tactic I can only read it as sexual tension. Me: why do you want to kiss Mal? I mean, he’s cute but that’s weird for yo- ohhh.
“We cannot let him obtain that kind of power.” Yeah I thought it was weird that he dresses like a villain.
“Listen to me,” she says, as if her next words will include instructions on killing the Batman.
“I don’t want to die with the wrong face on” oh HONEY OH GOODNESS. AH.
...HEY WAS THAT THE FUCKING CONDUCTOR? DID THAT FUCKIN GUY JUST TRY TO KILL ALINA? No??? that doesn’t make sense???? General Zlakov? you don’t k- OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHEN HE WAS MEETING WITH HIM AT THE SAMUEL SEABURY MOMENT. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
KAZ BREKKER I LOVE YOU SO MUCH GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU KNEW IN AN INSTANT WHAT A FUN TWIST. OCEAN’S 11 HEIST
oOOOOH good EYE whoever that was across the balcony!!!
.....Kirigan you fuckin suck, man. WAIT IS HE GONNA KILL MAL. OH OH OH WOW WOW WOW INTRIGUE TAKE HIM TO THE LADY YES GOOD YOU DID IT
Wow, great reactions, Mal. You are real good at surviving, my guy. Hey what kind of Grisha is- OH SHE’S A FABRIKATOR???OH MY GOD HE FUCKIN SMACKED HER WITH THAT BAR. Wow. This shit popping off.
Alina, I love you and I understand this is all very exciting and look I’m not here to harsh your vibe, you saw me congratulating Jesper on his nice time having sex, but buddy please stop kissing this man literally anyone else would be better-....no except the Conductor, also do not kiss him. Your tailor! Mal! Those girls you hang out with! Jespe- wait is Jesper gay or bisexual? he’s gay isn’t he. Anyway, leave this man alone please.
THEY KISSED AGAIN. LOOK BUDDY I am HAPPY you’re having fun but not the time.
Also can you even attack with your light balls? Like, they’re good! It’s important! I haven’t seen you do one offensive magic. Well... that general is offended by your magic, but. OKAY GOOD YES BHAGRA TELL HER. “Did he want you dependent on him and his fabrikator’s tricky little gloves.” Ohhhhhhhhh that’s devious as HELL WOW CLEVER FUCKIN TRICK.
“He IS the Black Heretic” WHAT???????
SHE’S HIS FUCKING MOM? SHE’S HIS MOM??????? HE LETS HER LIVE????? HE LETS HER LIVE HIS MOM???? SHE’S RIGHT THERE????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
this is why her hut is so dark huh.
....the volcra were people. I didn’t even think about what they were I haven’t had time.
honey I’m sorry you kissed that bad man I know he’s hot but I’m sorry
omg Kaz is still being chased by this guy lmao
“You’re like a wounded spider in my house.” That’s Kaz Brekker, my guy. You’re millimeters away from death.
HAHA KAZ FUCKING BREKKER! Ah damn bad bet.
INEJ my beloved I am so sorry. Immaculate throw. Inej you’re so hot.
Inej honey I’m so sorry. She left her saint 😦
oh wow he’s gonna be so mad. OH SHE GOT TO THE STABLES. ALINA.
can she do the sun blade yet? I assume that’s what the thread of “the dark blade is only for emergencies” leads to
Oh he knows she’s his mom. Why does he let her live???? Oh, he thinks he’s smarter than her. Yeah that scans. Wait how old is she?
“I’d wager you’d need a skilled tracker to find her now.” HAHA what a fucking gloat.
....Jesper.............JESPER DID YOU JUST LUCK OUT HAHA OH MY GOD. Wow. The two thirstiest characters just lucking out together. Thirst solidarity. Brings a tear to my eye. I’m not here to advocate for getting laid over supporting your chums, but.... 🤷♀️it’s what the saints supported, apparently!
COULD NOT be happier for Jesper. TRULY a Jesper blessed episode.
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[HM] New York City Adventure #637, Circa 2010
Five minutes after hunkering down with Smithsonian magazine on the subway stop platform outside of my Gym I was delighted to find out that entertainment would be provided gratis tonight. Albeit with the unfortunate effect of delaying my return home.
As I walked to the rear of the platform I had observed a lone police office dis-interestingly gazing upon several subway crewman do unspeakable things to the subway track with impressive lethargy. Shortly thereafter, a young, very much agitated citizen arrived to notify the officer that there was a gentleman in the back of the train causing trouble or otherwise up to no-good. Said police officer was sluggish to comprehend the situation but eventually managed to gather up his person and begin an awkward gallop towards the rear of the train. After missing the car in question and doing an even more awkward backwards gallop he managed to arrive at the scene of action.
He finds a young male in a clearly disheveled and distraught state. Some words pass between the two below my own personal threshold of hearing, and the officer pulls the male from the car and attempts to directly place handcuffs on the male at hand. Much to the officer's dismay he is unable to handcuff the further distraught and now violently thrashing male, who under his own power returns to the train car. After several unsuccessful attempts at communication the officer signals the train conductor to close the train doors, presumably to await the inevitable arrival of an absurdly large quantity of officers to, let us say, handle this delicate situation in a most un-delicate way.
Perhaps out of fear of safety for the remaining passengers on the train, (who rather then avert danger have decided that a close proximity view of tonight's entertainment outweighs the wiser option of exiting the car), or perhaps due to a nagging sense of duty and heroism, the officer decides to enter solo and inquire further about apprehending the young gentlemen. With a gleam in his eye and an air of determination the police officer accosts the hooligan. Shortly thereafter as my fellow platform inhabitant deftly and not without irony observed, the young man was "beating the shit out of that cop."
Not to be foiled by a mere street hoodlum our uniformed hero managed to get himself inelegantly tangled in what one might describe as a very unpoetic yoga pose with one arm firmly wrapped around the young gentleman's lower leg. The officer then adroitly jettisoned the better part of a can of pepper spray directly into the young man's face, eyes, and almost certainly any and all other sensitive mucous membranes within close proximity.
To all appearances the young man has a drastic, if not sudden change of heart, and seemingly pleads to be handcuffed, even presenting his arms behind his back so as to make the officer's work as simply and tidy as could be. After dragging the young man out of the car and waiting several minutes, additional officers gracelessly and with grossly unnecessary bumping and cussing toward onlookers slowly began to arrive at a trot, dropping flashlights and caps everywhere. The effect of having a single policeman come barreling down the platform every 25 seconds or so with seemingly no end left me with a silly little grin, as it evoked scenes from the fine cinematic piece Blues Brothers. I could only wait and hope for a similar and satisfying finale.
After a drawn out, and wholly unorganized search a crack pipe and lighter was in fact discovered and the young gentlemen was escorted towards what was probably only the beginning of a very bad night.
Later, upon arriving at my own subway station an hour after the festivities began and while walking homeward I was met by another fine young gentlemen. This young man presented me with his very best smile and seemed to inquire if I would be interested in purchasing some "brandy-wine". After his verbal proposition he raised in offer towards me what I can only describe as a clothes iron. After a brief moment debating the likelihood that he did indeed have brandy wine inside of his clothes iron or was simply suffering a sudden bout of aphasia, I politely declined his offer of goods.
Thereafter I headed for home content with tonight's diversions.
submitted by /u/Alhadro [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2Wu0VKX
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A Unique Norwegian Choir Is United By Coal As Mining Industry Suffers
In Longyearbyen, Svalbard, a choir united by coal takes to the stage in an abandoned building – but the future for local coal mining looks uncertain. This is the first installment of “Meet the North,” a series that ventures into the lives of some of the 4 million people who call the Arctic home.
It was below freezing inside the derelict mining building that looked down over Longyearbyen, Svalbard. Coal dust powdered the wooden floor. The corrugated metal walls enclosed a control room, ceiling tracks and tangles of steel. This building used to collect cable cars full of coal and send them down to the harbor. It was abandoned long ago, but for one night in June – this night – it becomes a concert hall jammed with locals dressed in down jackets and brightly coloured winter hats. Coal – the world’s most maligned fossil fuel and the foundation of this community – was about to take center stage.
The crowd cheered and whistled as 16 Norwegian men filed into the room. They wore matching white caps and navy blue coveralls with “Store Norske Mandskor” (Great Northern Men’s Choir) silkscreened on their breast pockets. Each man boasted a custom belt buckle showing a hammer and pick – the traditional tools of miners. But the outfits belied their true occupations; this group included the world’s northernmost architect and the town pastor, as well as the leaders of all the political parties in town.
The conductor wore white gloves and a purple down jacket beneath his costume. With a flash of his hands, the men breathed in and opened their mouths. Their voices poured over the crowd and across the bright fjord.
Eric Guth
White gloves, blue overalls and a hammer and pick belt buckle are part of the choir’s uniform.
Svalbard is an archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, midway between Europe and the North Pole. Almost 2,200 of Svalbard’s 2,700 inhabitants live in Longyearbyen. They’re mostly Norwegians, as Norway has sovereignty over the archipelago, but the town was named after an American, John Munro Longyear, who started coal mining in 1906. The Store Norske Spitsbergen Kulkompani (the Great Northern Spitsbergen Coal Company) bought Longyear’s enterprise 100 years ago, and it’s still the only mining company in town.
In the 1980s and 1990s, Longyearbyen evolved from a company town, which was expensive to maintain, into a community that also relies on tourism and a university campus. In 2015, the coal company employed almost 500 people on the island of Spitsbergen and said that 40 percent of the population still relied on the mines through direct and indirect jobs.
The company inspired the choir, which has existed on and off for a century. Elisabeth Larsen, who sells Store Norske’s coal to international buyers, tipped me off about the show.
Eric Guth
Elisabeth Larsen stands across the street from Longyearbyens coal burning power plant.
I met Larsen on her coffee break outside head office, across the street from Norway’s only coalfired power plant. Its fuel comes from Mine 7, 16km (10 miles) from town, that produced 70,000 metric tons of coal in 2015. The largest mines are in Svea, 60km (37 miles) away, where they have extracted between 1 and 2 million metric tons of coal annually for the last few years. Last year, $64 million worth of coal was shipped to Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, Germany and the United Kingdom.
“Nobody likes coal,” Larsen said, “but nobody wants to accept the fact that we don’t have anything to replace it with.” At 78ºN, energy security is paramount. Heat is life.
For Longyearbyen, coal is a Catch-22. It might be dirty, but it’s local. It comes from down the street, and if it runs out, the community must rely on diesel shipped a long, long way. Coal built this community, but times are changing. Coal mines are an anomaly in Norway, which is known for its hydropower, and a growing number of townspeople recognise that coal is dirty to burn and expensive to extract.
I expected that differing views about coal and energy would create tension in such a small community, and I asked Larsen how people deal with that.
“Oh, it’s not difficult between people.” she responded.
I hesitated and then replied: “I don’t believe you.”
Larsen laughed. “Go to the concert on Saturday night, and you’ll see what I mean.”
Eric Guth
Once a year, the old mining building is turned into a temporary concert hall.
The air in the old building seemed to warm even as the evening grew colder. The music alternated from heartfelt ballads to fun and silliness, and each tune rang with precise harmony. Whether they were singing about the tundra or covering “Sixteen Tons” by Kentucky’s Merle Travis, these men had joy on their faces – and it was contagious.
They sang and even danced. They led us in half-time stretches. Their voices resonated with the steel of that stark building. And then we went to the pub.
Over beers and pizza and between spontaneous bursts of song, I got to know the men a little better: the heads of business development and real estate for the mine, a schoolteacher and the head of the trade union. Also, political leaders from the Labor Party, the Liberal Democrats, the Conservative Party and – the newest act in town – Miljopartiet De Gronne, the Green Party.
Eric Guth
Sveinung Thesen (right, front) and choir members enjoy pizza and beer after the show.
I recognized the Green Party leader, Espen Rotevatn, as the conductor in white gloves. Part of his political mission is to end coal mining on Svalbard forever; yet in his spare time he dons a miner’s outfit and leads his group to harmony.
Sveinung Thesen, the concert MC and an employee of the mining company, explained it best: “Your political beliefs and what you culturally relate to are two different things. I perfectly understand a person can be skeptical toward mining but still be proud of the heritage we have here in Longyearbyen.”
Everyone around the table understands that the mines still greatly affect their community. Aleksander Askeland, who works in business development at Store Norske, explained that if the coal mines closed 300–400 jobs would quickly disappear. “This is bad for everybody,” he said. “You can’t turn this off in a day.”
Even Rotevatn voted in support of a $70 million loan from the Norwegian government to keep the mine going in the short term. “It seems wrong to me that we do this [coal mining] in the Arctic, in a very special environment … but a vote against the loan was a vote against Longyearbyen,” he said. Keeping the mine going for now buys time to build a longer-term solution, which may or may not include coal.
Almost a year later, big changes have come. For 2017, Store Norske has decided to double production at Mine 7 and stop production in Svea for three years with the hope that coal prices will rebound. If they do not, Store Norske will close those mines permanently. For now, the company will cut the 300–400 jobs that Aleksund referenced, and by next year the company will have only 95 employees. Elisabeth will still be one of them.
In the meantime, energy diversification is on the table: for example, a test project for solar energy is running in Svea. On the political front, Rotevatn and one other member became Svalbard’s first representatives of the Green Party last fall.
Eric Guth
Overlooking the town of Longyearbyen, Svalbard.
Choral singing is all about a common purpose. In this case, a love of Longyearbyen that includes its past and future. Coal may be leaving center stage, but nobody in the choir underestimates its importance – regardless of their politics.
Politics are unavoidable in a small town, and the Store Norske Mandskor knows when they must be sidelined for the good of community. When I asked Rotevatn what happens when politics meet music, he simply said, “Nothing. We sing, and we drink beer.”
It’s a simple formula, but it seems to be working. They will need to stand strong as coal heads backstage.
Jennifer Kingsley is the founder and project lead for Meet the North , which is sponsored by Lindblad Expeditions-National Geographic. Follow her northern adventures on Instagram.
This article originally appeared on Arctic Deeply. For weekly updates about Arctic geopolitics, economy, and ecology, you can sign up to the Arctic Deeply email list.
MORE:
Norway, Coal Mining, Arctic, Svalbard
Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/04/a-unique-norwegian-choir-is-united-by-coal-as-mining-industry-suffers/
from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/06/04/a-unique-norwegian-choir-is-united-by-coal-as-mining-industry-suffers/
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A Unique Norwegian Choir Is United By Coal As Mining Industry Suffers
In Longyearbyen, Svalbard, a choir united by coal takes to the stage in an abandoned building – but the future for local coal mining looks uncertain. This is the first installment of “Meet the North,” a series that ventures into the lives of some of the 4 million people who call the Arctic home.
It was below freezing inside the derelict mining building that looked down over Longyearbyen, Svalbard. Coal dust powdered the wooden floor. The corrugated metal walls enclosed a control room, ceiling tracks and tangles of steel. This building used to collect cable cars full of coal and send them down to the harbor. It was abandoned long ago, but for one night in June – this night – it becomes a concert hall jammed with locals dressed in down jackets and brightly coloured winter hats. Coal – the world’s most maligned fossil fuel and the foundation of this community – was about to take center stage.
The crowd cheered and whistled as 16 Norwegian men filed into the room. They wore matching white caps and navy blue coveralls with “Store Norske Mandskor” (Great Northern Men’s Choir) silkscreened on their breast pockets. Each man boasted a custom belt buckle showing a hammer and pick – the traditional tools of miners. But the outfits belied their true occupations; this group included the world’s northernmost architect and the town pastor, as well as the leaders of all the political parties in town.
The conductor wore white gloves and a purple down jacket beneath his costume. With a flash of his hands, the men breathed in and opened their mouths. Their voices poured over the crowd and across the bright fjord.
Eric Guth
White gloves, blue overalls and a hammer and pick belt buckle are part of the choir’s uniform.
Svalbard is an archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, midway between Europe and the North Pole. Almost 2,200 of Svalbard’s 2,700 inhabitants live in Longyearbyen. They’re mostly Norwegians, as Norway has sovereignty over the archipelago, but the town was named after an American, John Munro Longyear, who started coal mining in 1906. The Store Norske Spitsbergen Kulkompani (the Great Northern Spitsbergen Coal Company) bought Longyear’s enterprise 100 years ago, and it’s still the only mining company in town.
In the 1980s and 1990s, Longyearbyen evolved from a company town, which was expensive to maintain, into a community that also relies on tourism and a university campus. In 2015, the coal company employed almost 500 people on the island of Spitsbergen and said that 40 percent of the population still relied on the mines through direct and indirect jobs.
The company inspired the choir, which has existed on and off for a century. Elisabeth Larsen, who sells Store Norske’s coal to international buyers, tipped me off about the show.
Eric Guth
Elisabeth Larsen stands across the street from Longyearbyens coal burning power plant.
I met Larsen on her coffee break outside head office, across the street from Norway’s only coalfired power plant. Its fuel comes from Mine 7, 16km (10 miles) from town, that produced 70,000 metric tons of coal in 2015. The largest mines are in Svea, 60km (37 miles) away, where they have extracted between 1 and 2 million metric tons of coal annually for the last few years. Last year, $64 million worth of coal was shipped to Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, Germany and the United Kingdom.
“Nobody likes coal,” Larsen said, “but nobody wants to accept the fact that we don’t have anything to replace it with.” At 78ºN, energy security is paramount. Heat is life.
For Longyearbyen, coal is a Catch-22. It might be dirty, but it’s local. It comes from down the street, and if it runs out, the community must rely on diesel shipped a long, long way. Coal built this community, but times are changing. Coal mines are an anomaly in Norway, which is known for its hydropower, and a growing number of townspeople recognise that coal is dirty to burn and expensive to extract.
I expected that differing views about coal and energy would create tension in such a small community, and I asked Larsen how people deal with that.
“Oh, it’s not difficult between people.” she responded.
I hesitated and then replied: “I don’t believe you.”
Larsen laughed. “Go to the concert on Saturday night, and you’ll see what I mean.”
Eric Guth
Once a year, the old mining building is turned into a temporary concert hall.
The air in the old building seemed to warm even as the evening grew colder. The music alternated from heartfelt ballads to fun and silliness, and each tune rang with precise harmony. Whether they were singing about the tundra or covering “Sixteen Tons” by Kentucky’s Merle Travis, these men had joy on their faces – and it was contagious.
They sang and even danced. They led us in half-time stretches. Their voices resonated with the steel of that stark building. And then we went to the pub.
Over beers and pizza and between spontaneous bursts of song, I got to know the men a little better: the heads of business development and real estate for the mine, a schoolteacher and the head of the trade union. Also, political leaders from the Labor Party, the Liberal Democrats, the Conservative Party and – the newest act in town – Miljopartiet De Gronne, the Green Party.
Eric Guth
Sveinung Thesen (right, front) and choir members enjoy pizza and beer after the show.
I recognized the Green Party leader, Espen Rotevatn, as the conductor in white gloves. Part of his political mission is to end coal mining on Svalbard forever; yet in his spare time he dons a miner’s outfit and leads his group to harmony.
Sveinung Thesen, the concert MC and an employee of the mining company, explained it best: “Your political beliefs and what you culturally relate to are two different things. I perfectly understand a person can be skeptical toward mining but still be proud of the heritage we have here in Longyearbyen.”
Everyone around the table understands that the mines still greatly affect their community. Aleksander Askeland, who works in business development at Store Norske, explained that if the coal mines closed 300–400 jobs would quickly disappear. “This is bad for everybody,” he said. “You can’t turn this off in a day.”
Even Rotevatn voted in support of a $70 million loan from the Norwegian government to keep the mine going in the short term. “It seems wrong to me that we do this [coal mining] in the Arctic, in a very special environment … but a vote against the loan was a vote against Longyearbyen,” he said. Keeping the mine going for now buys time to build a longer-term solution, which may or may not include coal.
Almost a year later, big changes have come. For 2017, Store Norske has decided to double production at Mine 7 and stop production in Svea for three years with the hope that coal prices will rebound. If they do not, Store Norske will close those mines permanently. For now, the company will cut the 300–400 jobs that Aleksund referenced, and by next year the company will have only 95 employees. Elisabeth will still be one of them.
In the meantime, energy diversification is on the table: for example, a test project for solar energy is running in Svea. On the political front, Rotevatn and one other member became Svalbard’s first representatives of the Green Party last fall.
Eric Guth
Overlooking the town of Longyearbyen, Svalbard.
Choral singing is all about a common purpose. In this case, a love of Longyearbyen that includes its past and future. Coal may be leaving center stage, but nobody in the choir underestimates its importance – regardless of their politics.
Politics are unavoidable in a small town, and the Store Norske Mandskor knows when they must be sidelined for the good of community. When I asked Rotevatn what happens when politics meet music, he simply said, “Nothing. We sing, and we drink beer.”
It’s a simple formula, but it seems to be working. They will need to stand strong as coal heads backstage.
Jennifer Kingsley is the founder and project lead for Meet the North , which is sponsored by Lindblad Expeditions-National Geographic. Follow her northern adventures on Instagram.
This article originally appeared on Arctic Deeply. For weekly updates about Arctic geopolitics, economy, and ecology, you can sign up to the Arctic Deeply email list.
MORE:
Norway, Coal Mining, Arctic, Svalbard
from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/04/a-unique-norwegian-choir-is-united-by-coal-as-mining-industry-suffers/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/161412864307
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A Unique Norwegian Choir Is United By Coal As Mining Industry Suffers
In Longyearbyen, Svalbard, a choir united by coal takes to the stage in an abandoned building – but the future for local coal mining looks uncertain. This is the first installment of “Meet the North,” a series that ventures into the lives of some of the 4 million people who call the Arctic home.
It was below freezing inside the derelict mining building that looked down over Longyearbyen, Svalbard. Coal dust powdered the wooden floor. The corrugated metal walls enclosed a control room, ceiling tracks and tangles of steel. This building used to collect cable cars full of coal and send them down to the harbor. It was abandoned long ago, but for one night in June – this night – it becomes a concert hall jammed with locals dressed in down jackets and brightly coloured winter hats. Coal – the world’s most maligned fossil fuel and the foundation of this community – was about to take center stage.
The crowd cheered and whistled as 16 Norwegian men filed into the room. They wore matching white caps and navy blue coveralls with “Store Norske Mandskor” (Great Northern Men’s Choir) silkscreened on their breast pockets. Each man boasted a custom belt buckle showing a hammer and pick – the traditional tools of miners. But the outfits belied their true occupations; this group included the world’s northernmost architect and the town pastor, as well as the leaders of all the political parties in town.
The conductor wore white gloves and a purple down jacket beneath his costume. With a flash of his hands, the men breathed in and opened their mouths. Their voices poured over the crowd and across the bright fjord.
Eric Guth
White gloves, blue overalls and a hammer and pick belt buckle are part of the choir’s uniform.
Svalbard is an archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, midway between Europe and the North Pole. Almost 2,200 of Svalbard’s 2,700 inhabitants live in Longyearbyen. They’re mostly Norwegians, as Norway has sovereignty over the archipelago, but the town was named after an American, John Munro Longyear, who started coal mining in 1906. The Store Norske Spitsbergen Kulkompani (the Great Northern Spitsbergen Coal Company) bought Longyear’s enterprise 100 years ago, and it’s still the only mining company in town.
In the 1980s and 1990s, Longyearbyen evolved from a company town, which was expensive to maintain, into a community that also relies on tourism and a university campus. In 2015, the coal company employed almost 500 people on the island of Spitsbergen and said that 40 percent of the population still relied on the mines through direct and indirect jobs.
The company inspired the choir, which has existed on and off for a century. Elisabeth Larsen, who sells Store Norske’s coal to international buyers, tipped me off about the show.
Eric Guth
Elisabeth Larsen stands across the street from Longyearbyens coal burning power plant.
I met Larsen on her coffee break outside head office, across the street from Norway’s only coalfired power plant. Its fuel comes from Mine 7, 16km (10 miles) from town, that produced 70,000 metric tons of coal in 2015. The largest mines are in Svea, 60km (37 miles) away, where they have extracted between 1 and 2 million metric tons of coal annually for the last few years. Last year, $64 million worth of coal was shipped to Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, Germany and the United Kingdom.
“Nobody likes coal,” Larsen said, “but nobody wants to accept the fact that we don’t have anything to replace it with.” At 78ºN, energy security is paramount. Heat is life.
For Longyearbyen, coal is a Catch-22. It might be dirty, but it’s local. It comes from down the street, and if it runs out, the community must rely on diesel shipped a long, long way. Coal built this community, but times are changing. Coal mines are an anomaly in Norway, which is known for its hydropower, and a growing number of townspeople recognise that coal is dirty to burn and expensive to extract.
I expected that differing views about coal and energy would create tension in such a small community, and I asked Larsen how people deal with that.
“Oh, it’s not difficult between people.” she responded.
I hesitated and then replied: “I don’t believe you.”
Larsen laughed. “Go to the concert on Saturday night, and you’ll see what I mean.”
Eric Guth
Once a year, the old mining building is turned into a temporary concert hall.
The air in the old building seemed to warm even as the evening grew colder. The music alternated from heartfelt ballads to fun and silliness, and each tune rang with precise harmony. Whether they were singing about the tundra or covering “Sixteen Tons” by Kentucky’s Merle Travis, these men had joy on their faces – and it was contagious.
They sang and even danced. They led us in half-time stretches. Their voices resonated with the steel of that stark building. And then we went to the pub.
Over beers and pizza and between spontaneous bursts of song, I got to know the men a little better: the heads of business development and real estate for the mine, a schoolteacher and the head of the trade union. Also, political leaders from the Labor Party, the Liberal Democrats, the Conservative Party and – the newest act in town – Miljopartiet De Gronne, the Green Party.
Eric Guth
Sveinung Thesen (right, front) and choir members enjoy pizza and beer after the show.
I recognized the Green Party leader, Espen Rotevatn, as the conductor in white gloves. Part of his political mission is to end coal mining on Svalbard forever; yet in his spare time he dons a miner’s outfit and leads his group to harmony.
Sveinung Thesen, the concert MC and an employee of the mining company, explained it best: “Your political beliefs and what you culturally relate to are two different things. I perfectly understand a person can be skeptical toward mining but still be proud of the heritage we have here in Longyearbyen.”
Everyone around the table understands that the mines still greatly affect their community. Aleksander Askeland, who works in business development at Store Norske, explained that if the coal mines closed 300–400 jobs would quickly disappear. “This is bad for everybody,” he said. “You can’t turn this off in a day.”
Even Rotevatn voted in support of a $70 million loan from the Norwegian government to keep the mine going in the short term. “It seems wrong to me that we do this [coal mining] in the Arctic, in a very special environment … but a vote against the loan was a vote against Longyearbyen,” he said. Keeping the mine going for now buys time to build a longer-term solution, which may or may not include coal.
Almost a year later, big changes have come. For 2017, Store Norske has decided to double production at Mine 7 and stop production in Svea for three years with the hope that coal prices will rebound. If they do not, Store Norske will close those mines permanently. For now, the company will cut the 300–400 jobs that Aleksund referenced, and by next year the company will have only 95 employees. Elisabeth will still be one of them.
In the meantime, energy diversification is on the table: for example, a test project for solar energy is running in Svea. On the political front, Rotevatn and one other member became Svalbard’s first representatives of the Green Party last fall.
Eric Guth
Overlooking the town of Longyearbyen, Svalbard.
Choral singing is all about a common purpose. In this case, a love of Longyearbyen that includes its past and future. Coal may be leaving center stage, but nobody in the choir underestimates its importance – regardless of their politics.
Politics are unavoidable in a small town, and the Store Norske Mandskor knows when they must be sidelined for the good of community. When I asked Rotevatn what happens when politics meet music, he simply said, “Nothing. We sing, and we drink beer.”
It’s a simple formula, but it seems to be working. They will need to stand strong as coal heads backstage.
Jennifer Kingsley is the founder and project lead for Meet the North , which is sponsored by Lindblad Expeditions-National Geographic. Follow her northern adventures on Instagram.
This article originally appeared on Arctic Deeply. For weekly updates about Arctic geopolitics, economy, and ecology, you can sign up to the Arctic Deeply email list.
MORE:
Norway, Coal Mining, Arctic, Svalbard
from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/06/04/a-unique-norwegian-choir-is-united-by-coal-as-mining-industry-suffers/
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Text
A Unique Norwegian Choir Is United By Coal As Mining Industry Suffers
In Longyearbyen, Svalbard, a choir united by coal takes to the stage in an abandoned house- but the future for local coal mining seems uncertain. This is the first installment of “Meet the North, ” a series that ventures into the lives of some of the 4 million people who call the Arctic home .
It was below freezing inside the derelict mining house that looked down over Longyearbyen, Svalbard. Coal dust powdered the wooden floor. The corrugated metal walls enclosed a control room, ceiling tracks and tangles of steel. This building used to collect cable cars full of coal and send them down to the harbor. It was abandoned long ago, but for one night in June- this night- it becomes a concert hall jammed with locals dressed in down jackets and brightly coloured winter hats. Coal- the world’s most maligned fossil fuel and the foundation of this community- was about to take center stage.
The crowd cheered and whistled as 16 Norwegian humen filed into the room. They wore matching white caps and navy blue coveralls with “Store Norske Mandskor”( Great Northern Men’s Choir) silkscreened on their breast pockets. Each human boasted a custom belt buckle showing a hammer and pick- the traditional tools of miners. But the attires belied their true occupations; this group included the world’s northernmost designer and the town pastor, as well as the leaders of all the political parties in town.
The conductor wore white gloves and a purple down coat beneath his costume. With a flash of his hands, the men exhaled in and opened their mouths. Their voices poured over the crowd and across the bright fjord.
Eric Guth
White gloves, blue overalls and a hammer and pick belt buckle are part of the choir’s uniform.
Svalbard is an archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, midway between Europe and the North Pole. Almost 2,200 of Svalbard’s 2,700 inhabitants live in Longyearbyen. They’re largely Norwegians, as Norway has sovereignty over the archipelago, but the town was named after an American, John Munro Longyear, who started coal mining in 1906. The Store Norske Spitsbergen Kulkompani( the Great Northern Spitsbergen Coal Company) bought Longyear’s enterprise 100 years ago, and it’s still the only mining company in town.
In the 1980 s and 1990 s, Longyearbyen evolved from a company town, which was expensive to preserve, into a community that also relies on tourism and a university campus. In 2015, the coal company employed nearly 500 people on the island of Spitsbergen and used to say 40 percent of the population still relied on the ours through direct and indirect jobs.
The company inspired the choir, which has existed on and off for a century. Elisabeth Larsen, who sells Store Norske’s coal to international buyers, tipped me off about the show.
Eric Guth
Elisabeth Larsen stands across the street from Longyearbyens coal burning power plant.
I gratified Larsen on her coffee break outside head office, across the street from Norway’s only coalfired power plant. Its ga comes from Mine 7, 16 km( 10 miles) from town, that produced 70,000 metric tons of coal in 2015. The largest ours are in Svea, 60 km( 37 miles) away, where the government had extracted between 1 and 2 million metric tons of coal annually for the last few years. Last year, $64 million worth of coal was shipped to Sweden, Denmark, the Netherlands, Germany and the United Kingdom.
“Nobody likes coal, ” Larsen told, “but nobody wants to accept the fact that we don’t have anything to replace it with.” At 78 oN, energy security is paramount. Heat is life.
For Longyearbyen, coal is a Catch-2 2. It might be dirty, but it’s local. It comes from down the street, and if it runs out, the community must rely on diesel shipped a long, long way. Coal built this community, but periods are changing. Coal ours are an anomaly in Norway, which is known for its hydropower, and a growing number of townspeople recognise that coal is dirty to burn and costly to extract.
I expected that differing opinions about coal and energy would create tension in such a small community, and I asked Larsen how people deal with that.
“Oh, it’s not difficult between people.” she responded.
I hesitated and then responded: “I don’t believe you.”
Larsen chuckled. “Go to the concert on Saturday night, and you’ll assure what I mean.”
Eric Guth
Once a year, the old mining house is turned into a temporary concert hall.
The air in the old house seemed to warm even as the evening grew colder. The music alternated from heartfelt ballads to fun and silliness, and each tune rang with precise harmony. Whether they were singing about the tundra or covering “Sixteen Tons” by Kentucky’s Merle Travis, these men had pleasure on their faces- and it was contagious.
They sang and even danced. They led us in half-time stretches. Their voices resonated with the steel of that stark house. And then we went to the pub.
Over brews and pizza and between spontaneous explodes of anthem, I got to know the men a little better: the heads of business development and real estate for the mine, a schoolteacher and the head of the trades union. Also, political leaders from the Labour party, the Liberal Democrat, the Conservative Party and- the newest act in town- Miljopartiet De Gronne, the Green Party.
Eric Guth
Sveinung Thesen( right, front) and choir members enjoy pizza and brew after the depict.
I distinguished the Green Party leader, Espen Rotevatn, as the conductor in white gloves. Portion of his political mission is to end coal mining on Svalbard forever; yet in his spare time he dons a miner’s attire and leads his group to harmony.
Sveinung Thesen, the concert MC and an employee of the mining company, explained it best: “Your political belief and what you culturally relate to are two different things. I perfectly understand a person can be skeptical toward mining but still be proud of the heritage we have here in Longyearbyen.”
Everyone around the table understands that the ours still greatly affect their community. Aleksander Askeland, who works in business development at Store Norske, explained that if the coal ours closed 300-400 jobs would quickly vanish. “This is bad for everybody, ” he told. “You can’t turn this off in a day.”
Even Rotevatn voted in support of a $70 million loan from the Norwegian government to keep the mine going in the short term. “It seems incorrect to me that we do this[ coal mining] in the Arctic, in a very special environment … but a vote against the loan was a vote against Longyearbyen, ” he told. Maintaining the mine going for now buys time to build a longer-term answer, which may or may not include coal.
Almost a year later, big changes have come. For 2017, Store Norske has decided to doubled production at Mine 7 and stop production in Svea for three years with the said he hoped that coal costs will rebound. If they do not, Store Norske will close those ours permanently. For now, the company will cut the 300-400 jobs that Aleksund referenced, and by next year the company will have only 95 employees. Elisabeth will still be one of them.
In the meantime, energy diversification is on the table: for example, a test project for solar energy is running in Svea. On the political front, Rotevatn and one other member became Svalbard’s first representatives of the Green Party last fall.
Eric Guth
Overlooking the town of Longyearbyen, Svalbard.
Choral singing is all about a common objectives. In this case, a love of Longyearbyen that includes its past and future. Coal may be leaving centre stage, but nobody in the choir underestimates its importance- regardless of their politics.
Politics are unavoidable in a small town, and the Store Norske Mandskor knows when they must be sidelined for the good of community. When I asked Rotevatn what happens when politics meet music, he simply told, “Nothing. We sing, and we drink beer.”
It’s a simple formula, but it seems to be working. They will need to stand strong as coal heads backstage.
Jennifer Kingsley is the founder and project result for Meet the North, which is sponsored by Lindblad Expeditions-National Geographic. Follow her northern escapades on Instagram . Such articles originally appeared on Arctic Deeply. For weekly updates about Arctic geopolitics, economy, and ecology, you can sign up to the Arctic Deeply email list .
MORE:
Norway, Coal Mining, Arctic, Svalbard
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The Knight Bus
Harry was several streets away before he collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk. He sat quite still, anger still surging through him, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart. But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: panic. Whichever way he looked at it, he had never been in a worse fix. He was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. And the worst of it was, he had just done serious magic, which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. He had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry so badly, he was surprised Ministry of Magic representatives weren't swooping down on him where he sat. Harry shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent. What, was going to happen to him? Would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed from the wizarding world? He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was sure that, criminal or not, Ron and Hermione would want to help him now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them. He didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. He'd never be able to drag his trunk all the way to London. Unless... He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled (his heart was. now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldn't hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father -- what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London? Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and...begin his life as an outcast. It was a horrible prospect, but he couldn't sit on this wall forever, or he'd find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunk full of spell books and a broomstick. Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak -- but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more. A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses. He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him. Harry squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or -- something else. "Lumos," Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes. Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter. There was a deafening BANG, and Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light... With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying. They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus. For a split second, Harry wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve--" The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet. Close up, he saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples. "What were you doin' down there?" said Stan, dropping his professional manner. "Fell over," said Harry. "'Choo fall over for?" sniggered Stan. "I didn't do it on purpose," said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence. The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty. "'Choo lookin' at?" said Stan. "There was a big black thing," said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. "Like a dog...but massive..." He looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stan's eyes move to the scar on Harry's forehead. "Woss that on your 'ead?" said Stan abruptly. "Nothing," said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didn't want to make it too easy for them. "Woss your name?" Stan persisted. "Neville Longbottom," said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head. "So -- so this bus," he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, "did you say it goes anywhere?" "Yep," said Stan proudly, "anywhere you like, 'long it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater. "Ere," he said, looking suspicious again, "you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?" "Yes," said Harry quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?" "Eleven Sickles," said Stan, "but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot-water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice." Harry rummaged once more in his trunk, extracted his money bag, and shoved some gold into Stan's hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus. There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs" and rolled over in his sleep. "You 'ave this one," Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern." Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who nervously flattened his bangs again and sat down on his bed. "Take 'er away, Ern," said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's. There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harry's stunned face with great enjoyment. "This is where we was before you flagged us down," he said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?" "Ar," said Ernie. "How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harry. "Them!" said Stan contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, do they? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'." "Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan," said Ern. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute." Stan passed Harry's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Harry was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed. Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak. "'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way. Harry wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had been traveling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. His stomach churned as he fell back to wondering what was going to happen to him, and whether the Dursleys had managed to get Aunt Marge off the ceiling yet. Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry from the front page. He looked strangely familiar. "That man!" Harry said, forgetting his troubles for a moment. "He was on the Muggle news!" Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled. "Sirius Black," he said, nodding. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?" He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harry's face, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry. "You oughta read the papers more, Neville." Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and read: BLACK STILL AT LARGE Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today. "We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm." Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis. "Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it -- who'd believe him if he did?" While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse. Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harry had never met a vampire, but he had seen pictures of them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one. "Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan, who had been watching Harry read. "He murdered thirteen people?" said Harry, handing the page back to Stan, "with one curse?" "Yep," said Stan, "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?" "Ar," said Ern darkly. Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry. "Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," he said. "What, Voldemort?" said Harry, without thinking. Even Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus. "You outta your tree?" yelped Stan. "'Choo say 'is name for?" "Sorry," said Harry hastily. "Sorry, I -- I forgot --" "Forgot!" said Stan weakly. "Blimey, my 'eart's goin' that fast..." "So -- so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harry prompted apologetically. "Yeah," said Stan, still rubbing his chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say...anyway, when little 'Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-'Oo" -- Harry nervously flattened his bangs down again -- "all You-Know-'Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over. "Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Black did then?" Stan continued in a dramatic whisper. "What?" said Harry. "Laughed," said Stan. "Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?" "If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Ern in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you...after what he did..." "They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stan said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?" "Gas explosion," grunted Ernie. "An' now 'e's out," said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?" Ernie suddenly shivered. "Talk about summat else, Stan, there's a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles." Stan put the paper away reluctantly, and Harry leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever. He couldn't help imagining what Stan might be telling his passengers in a few nights' time. "'Ear about that 'Arry Potter? Blew up 'is aunt! We 'ad 'im 'ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? 'E was tryin' to run for it..." He, Harry, had broken wizard law just like Sirius Black. Was inflating Aunt Marge bad enough to land him in Azkaban? Harry didn't know anything about the wizard prison, though everyone he'd ever heard speak of it did so in the same fearful tone. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had spent two months there only last year. Harry wouldn't soon forget the look of terror on Hagrid's face when he had been told where he was going, and Hagrid was one of the bravest people Harry knew. The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and Harry lay, restless and miserable, on his feather bed. After a while, Stan remembered that Harry had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harry's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go. Finally, Harry was the only passenger left. "Right then, Neville," said Stan, clapping his hands, "whereabouts in London?" "Diagon Alley," said Harry. "Righto," said Stan. "'Old tight, then." BANG. They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Harry sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off -- where, he didn't know. Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley. "Thanks," Harry said to Ern. He jumped down the steps and helped Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement. "Well," said Harry. "'Bye then!" But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus) he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. "There you are, Harry," said a voice. Before Harry could turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere! Come 'ere!" Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade into his stomach -- he had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself. Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them. "What didja call Neville, Minister?" he said excitedly. Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted. "Neville?" he repeated, frowning. "This is Harry Potter." "I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!" "Yes," said Fudge testily, "well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now..." Fudge increased the pressure on Harry's shoulder, and Harry found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord. "You've got him, Minister!" said Tom. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?" "Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harry. There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage and looking around excitedly. "'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Neville?" said Stan, beaming at Harry, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stan's shoulder. "And a private parlor, please, Tom," said Fudge pointedly. "'Bye," Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar. "'Bye, Neville!" called Stan. Fudge marched Harry along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room. "Sit down, Harry," said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire. Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up his arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry. "I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic." Harry already knew this, of course; he had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that. Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harry and left the parlor, closing the door behind him. "Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think...but you're safe, and that's what matters." Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry. "Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then...You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done." Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew. Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again. "Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays." Harry unstuck his throat. "I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," he said, "and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive." "Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other -- er -- very deep down." It didn't occur to Harry to put Fudge right. He was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to him now. "So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and..." "Hang on," blurted Harry. "What about my punishment?" Fudge blinked. "Punishment?" "I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!" "Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!" But this didn't tally at all with Harry's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic. "Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" he told Fudge, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!" Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward. "Circumstances change, Harry...We have to take into account...in the present climate...Surely you don't want to be expelled?" "Of course I don't," said Harry. "Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you." Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done? And now Harry came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic? Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper. "Room eleven's free, Harry," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable. just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand...I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me." "Okay," said Harry slowly, "but why?" "Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no...best we know where you are...I mean..." Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak. "Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know..." "Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harry asked. Fudge's finger slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak. "What's that? Oh, you've heard - well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed...and they are angrier than I've ever seen them." Fudge shuddered slightly. "So, I'll say good-bye." He held out his hand and Harry, shaking it, had a sudden idea. "Er -- Minister? Can I ask you something?" "Certainly," said Fudge with a smile. "Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could --?" Fudge was looking uncomfortable. "Ah," he said. "No, no, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian --" "But you're the Minister of Magic," said Harry eagerly. "If you gave me permission..." "No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly. "Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it's best if you don't...yes...well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry." And with a last smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry. "If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter," he said, "I've already taken your things up..." Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him. Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe -- "Hedwig!" Harry gasped. The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry's arm. "Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, don't hesitate to ask." He gave another bow and left. Harry sat on his bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Harry could hardly believe that he'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that he wasn't expelled, and that he was now facing two completely Dursley-free weeks. "It's been a very weird night, Hedwig," he yawned. And without even removing his glasses, he slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep.
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