#its looking to make things as ‘complete’ as possible. rook leaves no great mark on the world

[mohntilyet]

rook being such a nobody and surrounded by more influential companions right after the obviously well known inquisitor could be really cool actually. that conversation w solas 'what will they call you after this is done' <- NO FUCKING CLUE LOL!! the idea that this millennia long, world-ending story of gods and a herald being controlled for a moment by a nobody is incredible. they start as an irritant and end having saved the world. nobody thanks them. they go back home. maybe they're literally wiped off the face of the world when they're trapped in the fade with the dread wolf! and most of all, their name is not remembered. literally, because they become a 'rook' to the inquisitor's king.

like i’m actually really liking the idea that the inquisitor and rook get conflated into the same person by the public and by history, and what little agency they had is taken away. you were never in control of this story. your narrative will be written by other people, just like every figurehead that came before you. you are not the chosen one. the choice to have faded out and see the irrelevancy as a boon, or struggle to make your name known (not rook, not the nickname, not the title) would have been so. interesting.

veilguard is a heroic story (and the game doesn’t even let you be rude most of the time) that has to end heroically (the evanuris are defeated in some way, the last archdemon dies, and most rooks climb down from minrathous to literal cheers and applause) but the hero themself is forgettable. narratively that could have been so funnnn. but it wasn’t on purpose so it just feels hollow.

[kiruuuuu]

Blitz/Rook oneshot in which Blitz would like their relationship to stay secret and Rook... doesn’t. - for @magehir and her adorable second hand embarrassment ❤ :) (Rating T, fluff/humour, ~2.2k words)

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“Oh I’m sorry, what was the question?”, Rook asks, a sickly sweet smile on his face and voice raised to make sure everyone in his close vicinity can hear him – though it’s painfully obvious he’s doing it for the benefit of one special someone who shows no outward reaction but struggles not to draw his brows together or even roll his eyes.

Ash grants the Frenchman a weird look and repeats herself at a normal volume: “I was just wondering whether you’re seeing anyone at the moment. You seem so chipper lately.”

“Sadly, no. There’s no one like that in my life right now, though I wish there was. Someone with whom I could hold hands in public, you know?” Ash nods sympathetically and opens her mouth to reply but Rook isn’t done, not by a long shot. “I bet he’d make me ridiculously happy just by being there when I wake up or by being the last thing I see before I sleep and I’d want to shout out to the whole world just how glad I am to have him.” The redhead is looking increasingly confused now at all the unnecessary detail yet is clearly too polite to interrupt. “Believe me, if there was someone, I’d want everyone to see how disgustingly happy we are and to listen to me gushing endlessly about how wonderful he is and -”

“Sorry to interrupt, Rook, but do you have a minute?”, Blitz chimes in after turning towards him with a fake smile. “I’d like you to take a look at my pistol, I feel like its accuracy is going down but have no idea why.”

Rook mirrors his vaguely pained expression perfectly and chirps: “I’m sure your gun is working fine, Elias.” They stare at each other wordlessly, neither of them willing to back down, while Ash just judges them silently. “We were just speaking of relationships. How would you show your significant other how much you love them?”

He’s ready for this one. “By respecting their boundaries and accepting compromises without complaints should it come to a clash in personal values”, he replies evenly.

The boyish face before him darkens considerably. “The accuracy is getting worse, you said?”, Rook grits out and grabs his sleeve, proceeds to drag him away from an entirely bemused Ash and down the nearest corridor, into the closest room that’s unoccupied. It’s resembling a typical interrogation room, the only furniture being two chairs, a cheap table and a large mirror on the wall – and isn’t it ironic that they’re going to have this conversation in a place like this. Blitz doesn’t miss how Rook purposefully positions himself with his back to the mirror so he doesn’t have to see his own angry expression.

“You’re being too obvious”, he states and it was undoubtedly the wrong thing to start with since Rook’s temper flares.

“Oh yeah? First you explicitly forbid me to talk to you, now I’m not allowed to talk about you? It was implicit, she didn’t have any idea what I was on about -”

“Which is exactly my point, she’s going to wonder until she looks more closely at what you said, maybe mentions it to Jordan whom you told that your ‘ideal type’ is someone your height with dirty blonde hair and an accent and oh, who could that be?”

“You’re being paranoid. They have better things to do than to gossip, do you genuinely think they compare notes or something? Why the hell do you even care that much whether they know or not? Jäger is gayer than the two of us combined and no one talks shit about him. Except for Bandit, but he badmouths everyone.”

Blitz heaves a sigh and rubs his forehead in an attempt to tidy his thoughts. It’s far from the first time they’re talking about this yet it always seems to drain him, leaves him weary and oddly exposed. “I’m not ashamed of you”, he says quietly and breathes a little more freely when Rook’s annoyance softens, “really, I’m not. You’re great, I’m insanely lucky to have you and I don’t tell you this often enough. But I just need some time. Alright? Just a bit more. Please.”

The young man seems appeased but it doesn’t mean much, he appeared satisfied the last time they had this argument. “How long? You keep postponing it, every time I ask it’s just ‘a little longer’. What if it’s ‘a little longer’ for a year? Give me something, mon cœur, just so I know you mean it.”

“I promised you I’d work on it, right?” A nod – of course Rook remembers. “It wasn’t empty: I told Seamus earlier.”

At this, the Frenchman’s eyes light up. “Did you really?”

“Yes. He was very supportive, promised not to pass it on and wished us all the best. I couldn’t have asked for – why are you looking at me like that?”

Rook is suddenly beaming at him full force, all traces of his earlier ire vanished into thin air and he’s almost bouncing with joy. “That’s – thank you. Why didn’t you tell me right away? Oh, I thought -”

He cuts off abruptly and Blitz can guess effortlessly what’s going on in his pretty head: “Seriously? You thought I’d never tell anyone and dump you without anyone ever knowing we’re together? Julien, please. Come here.” He pulls him into a tight hug that’s reciprocated just as eagerly and strokes his back reassuringly. Even though he knows his lover can go overboard with his emotional responses, the fact that Blitz must’ve given him reason to worry makes him feel guilty regardless. “I’m sorry”, he murmurs against Rook’s cheek, “I shouldn’t have waited so long. You’re worth so much more than my pride.”

The man in his arms draws a shaky breath but manages to pull himself together and when they separate again, there’s a genuine smile illuminating the sparse room. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for pressuring you. I really should respect your boundaries.”

“It’s alright.” Blitz strokes over Rook’s cheek on an impulse, relishes the soft skin under his fingertips. “If you want, we can tell Emmanuelle next, maybe even today. You said you’d like her to know and she’d also not tell anyone.”

“Yeah. That’d be nice. Let’s do it together.” And just like that, Blitz’ heart is singing again. Relief and fondness are making him light-headed, making him cherish how they seem to have overcome an obstacle in their way and only grown closer in doing so. He leans in and Rook’s eyelashes fanning out as his lids fall shut are the last thing he sees just before their lips touch. It’s simple and short at first, nothing more than a brush, only then Blitz realises he’s far from done and repeats it, catches Rook’s top lip between his own, tilts his head the other direction and then they’re kissing properly.

Almost chastely, their mouths slide together, work against each other, up to the point where Rook’s tongue darts out, politely asks for entry that Blitz grants generously and it morphs into something more than just an affectionate gesture. It’s addicting and lovely, still sugary sweet and slow but now it kindles a fire in Blitz to taste his lover more, more deeply and more intimately. He pulls their bodies flush, starts toying with Rook’s tongue in earnest and wonders when trading spit with someone, with another man became this desirable, this all-out attractive to him. He can probably accredit it to Rook and Rook alone, he kisses like a young god and is always patient enough to adapt to Blitz’ pace.

When they break apart again, both of them are smiling at their shared secret that would persist even if everyone else knew they care about each other – because no one could possibly understand how much. Blitz’ hand is in the nape of Rook’s neck and though one of his rules was that nothing would ever happen at work, he still pulls him back in and invades his mouth nonetheless, allows the strong legs to walk him backwards until he hits a wall. They fuse together, hips moving against each other more out of habit than need yet Blitz feels himself grow hard; Rook smells delicious and the way he nips at Blitz’ lip is nothing short of magical. The atmosphere has shifted completely, turned into something warm, playful, intimate.

“I bet this isn’t the gun Ash thinks I’m inspecting right now”, Rook murmurs and drags his fingers over the bulge in Blitz’ jeans, both of them grinning good-naturedly.

“We can take care of this when we’re done with work, hm?”

“Yeah. You said you wanted to get out more, right? We can take Mark’s car, I’ve got his keys, just drive out into the countryside somewhere and make love on the back seat.”

“I’d rather not soil his upholstery”, Blitz responds with a chuckle and grimaces while trying to adjust his crotch without actually using his hands. Rook notices what he’s doing and simply reaches into his trousers and underwear, grabs the half-hard shaft and pulls it into a non-incriminatory position, not without giving it a few light tugs for good measure.

“There you go, you’re decent now. Don’t talk to Bandit though, he’s probably the only one who’d both stare at your crotch creepily and unnecessarily and comment on it.”

Blitz just agrees with him and, with a final kiss and a quick squeeze to Rook’s buttocks, they step away from each other and out of the room. “What would I do without you?”, he asks rhetorically, gets a bright grin in return and then moves to walk back just as Jäger rounds the corner with what looks like a bowl of popcorn in his hands. As soon as he spots the two, his eyes widen comically and he seems to fight the urge to run away immediately.

“Oh! Uh, hi”, he greets them awkwardly. “I was just – do you want some popcorn?”

His teammate just stares at him, uncomprehending, until a terrible thought crosses his mind. He looks back at the door from which they’ve just emerged, then at the door next to it, thinks of the large mirror and the interrogation theme of the furniture and dear God please no. He prays for the adjacent room to be empty but the way Jäger involuntarily twitches as soon as he grabs the handle already tells him unambiguously it’s not going to be.

Blitz is greeted with entirely too many pairs of eyes who stare at him decidedly too entertained – the small chamber is cramped with people, he sees Bandit, the entirety of the SAS, Ash and even two of the Russians. Past them, he has an unobstructed view of the room he and Rook have just left and it’s not hard to imagine what in the world happened. As if on commando, at least five pieces of paper jump up, all of them labelled with a number and it takes Blitz a mere second to understand they’re fucking rating him as if he’d just ice skated competitively.

“Oh my fucking God”, he says because there’s literally nothing else he could say.

“You missed the crotch grab”, Bandit addresses Jäger over Blitz’ shoulder with a gleeful glint in his eyes, “don’t shake Rook’s hand unless you want to get a handful of a different German cock for once.”

“Beautiful”, Kapkan adds and pretends to wipe away a tear with his note that reads a solid 9.5. “You two are ready for the stage, it had everything: conflict, reconciliation, passion and romance.”

Blitz can’t believe it. He’s just standing there, thunderstruck, and gapes at the audacity. “How long -”

“Originally, Marius and I wanted to fuck in here”, Bandit explains helpfully and with a shit eating grin, “but then you two came in and I figured others might appreciate the show as well, so I gathered an audience.”

“I’m revoking your rights to my car, by the way”, Mute butts in and holds out his hand. “For obvious reasons.”

Rook seems surprisingly fine with the whole situation, quite the opposite to Blitz whose face must’ve adopted the colour of a tomato by now. He steps inside and drops the keys in question into Mute’s palm. “That’s fair enough. But why the fuck do we only get a 3?”

Bandit looks at the number he wrote and shrugs. “Neither of you moaned like a bitch, so it can’t have been that good. Or is that not normal? Is that just something Marius does?”

“Kill me”, Jäger mumbles and expertly expresses Blitz’ mood in those two words alone.

“I, for one, think you two make an adorable couple”, Smoke raises his voice and earns unanimous and very vocal agreement, especially from Thatcher who’s holding an impressive 10. “And there’s nothing you need to worry about, especially because you’re both so embarrassingly obvious that most of us knew already anyway.”

Ash just snorts at that. “Yeah. Gun inspection. Really?”

And when Rook starts arguing with Glaz about the fact that he awarded them a measly 7, Blitz’ mortification coupled with an increasingly strong death wish take over and he shuts the door once more, locking out the incessant voices and at least some of the teasing. He turns to Jäger who’s watching him with a sympathetic expression and says: “You know, I suddenly feel like getting very, very drunk.”

His teammate looks down at the popcorn he’s still carrying and nods slowly. “Yeah. Sounds good. The first round is on me, mate.”

[180abroad]

Days 126-127: Edinburgh, Part 2 (History, Hiking, and Beer)

Our last two days in Edinburgh marked the two-thirds point of our journey in Europe, and the halfway point of my dad's stay with us in Scotland. So far, all we'd really seen of the city itself was the castle, the Whisky Experience, and a few square blocks around the train station in New Town. There's far too much for us to try and see everything, so we picked out a few top choices and did our best to enjoy them as much as possible.

After saying hello to the neighborhood cat, we took the bus into town toward our first stop of the day--the National Museum of Scotland. Now that we'd figured out Edinburgh's bus system, it was actually pretty easy and convenient. And compared to underground metros, buses give you a much better sense of how a city fits together.

We got a closer look at the statue of Greyfriars Bobby, a legendary local terrier who faithfully guarded his master's grave for 14 years until his own death in 1872.

Passing Bobby by, we headed on toward the museum.

The ground floor entry hall had a diverse collection, including a 19th-century Japanese lantern presented on a precisely shin-high marble plinth. It's funny--when I ate it in the Rif Mountains of Morocco, tearing a hole in my pant leg and scraping up my knee, it healed up just fine after a few days. But when I banged my shin against that stone platform without leaving the slightest mark on my pant leg, it took off a chunk of skin underneath and left a deep scar that's still conspicuously purple six months later.

After killing some time in the gift shop--where I found a miniature Blackwatch-patterned umbrella to replace the much-bulkier one I'd been carrying--we joined up with a free tour that introduced us to the various sections of the museum.

The Museum can be roughly divided into four sections: a Scottish history museum, a science and technology museum, a world cultures museum, and a natural history museum. It doesn’t compare to the British Museum in London, of course, but nothing can.

We saw a ridiculously complicated clock that our guide complained never works quite right.

We also saw Dolly the Sheep, the first-ever successfully cloned mammal. Not a recreation--they actually stuffed her after she died and put her on display. We appreciated the attention to detail with regard to the sheep poop at her feet.

The museum is huge. At the center is a massive Victorian hall inspired by the Crystal Palace that used to stand in London. To us, it looked uncannily like the panopticon of Kilmainham Gaol in Dublin. Our guide was nice, but he was so soft-spoken that we could barely hear him most of the time. Once we felt sufficiently oriented, we broke off and went back to the exhibits we were most interested in.

We spent most of our time in the Scottish history museum, which contains a very impressive (and well-displayed) collection of artifacts either made or found in Scotland, dating from prehistoric times up into the 21st century. Limited on time, we mainly stuck to the medieval history floor.

To either side of an old stone inscribed with Celtic knotwork, the walls bear a quote from the Declaration of Arbroath, a 14-century plea from the people of Scotland to Pope John XXII for support in their battle against the invading English army:

For we fight not for glory, nor riches, nor honours, but for Freedom alone, which no good man gives up except with his life. As long as only one hundred of us remain alive we will never on any conditions be brought under English rule.

One of the highlights of the medieval collection are the Lewis Chessmen, part of a medieval Viking chess set discovered on the remote Scottish island of Lewis and Harris.

Eleven pieces of the set are here at the National Museum of Scotland, while the rest are in the British Museum in London. They are carved from walrus ivory and whale teeth with remarkable detail and emotiveness. They could be characters straight out of a modern animated Viking movie.

The rooks are depicted as berserkers chewing their own shields in battle frenzy.

Nearby, we saw the remains of a Celtic cross from Islay, another Scottish island where we'd be staying next after Edinburgh.

Some other highlights included a 17th-century Scottish flag said to have been carried in battle against Oliver Cromwell, a Celtic harp that may be the twin to the Brian Boru Harp at Dublin’s Trinity College, intricately detailed jewelry, some beautifully engraved early firearms, and a precursor to the guillotine known as “the Maiden”--gently used.

Upstairs, they have a good section on the Jacobite rebellions, when the ousted Stuart kings of England returned to their native Scotland to raise an army and reclaim the throne in London. It was a hopeless cause, and after three generations the rebellions finally died out.

Finally, we browsed through a section on the 1700s, when industries like textile weaving and coal mining were starting to boom like never before.

At the top of the museum, we discovered a fabulous view of the castle to the northwest and of the mountainous Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat to the east.

During one of our tours, our guide mentioned Arthur's Seat--a tall volcanic plug that overlooks the city--in a warning against taking online reviews at face value. Apparently, someone on TripAdvisor left a one-star review complaining that it was "just a hill."

The elevator was abominably slow--after spending a good while taking pictures on the roof, we returned to find people who had left the rooftop as we arrived still waiting for the elevator to make its next return. When it finally arrived, we weren't able to fit in, so we decided to make our way down the stairs instead. That may have been a mistake, though. The stairwells and back corridors were so maze-like that we literally caught ourselves going in circles before finding a room we recognized. It was like being back at the Lyon bus terminal.

After the National Museum, I headed off on my own to do some shopping in New Town. Second-guessing my decision to not buy shoes until after Islay, I wanted to see if I could find anything good in the last big English-speaking city we'd be staying in. I didn't find shoes, but I did get some spectacular views.

One of the most striking things about Old Town is it's verticality, which I've mentioned before. The old stone buildings seem to be scrambling up on each other's shoulders, reaching for the sky. We'd also learned from Nik the day before that this is part of an Edinburgh tradition that far predates them. Throughout the Middle Ages, when the city was mostly made of wood, the constricting city walls forced people to build up, creating towering wooden "skyscrapers" that frequently fell down or caught fire. They were crammed with people, and the ensuing sanitation issues were legendary across Europe. It got so bad that Edinburgh earned the nickname Old Reeky.

That was why, in the 1700s, the wealthier citizens finally decided to escape the city walls and build a spacious Georgian-style New Town to the north.

Down in the park where the castle moat used to be, people were crowding to see drum corps performing. August was still a couple weeks away, but the festival season atmosphere was alive and well.

Meanwhile, Jessica and my dad searched out a pub where we could hole up and watch the final World Cup game between Croatia (who we were rooting for) and France. We’ve learned that Scottish people tend to have a great affinity for the French, if only because of their shared rivalry with the English. When the final whistle marked France's victory, the pub erupted in a celebration unlike anything I've ever seen in person.

Emerging back into the overcast sunlight, we cooled off with a relaxing walk down the breezy Royal Mile. We wanted to get some dinner at the famous World’s End pub, but it was full up. The pub's name dates back to a time when it butted against the old city walls. Anyone entering the city had to pay a steep toll to pass through the gates, even if they were residents. For many people, this meant that if they ever left the city, they might never be able to get back in. To them, this pub might as well have been the world's end.

We turned back and ended up enjoying a wonderful dinner at an Indian-Thai hybrid restaurant--once we were finally able to find the door.

After dinner, we strolled the rest of the way down the Royal Mile to Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh's royal palace. It was well past closing time, but we were able to get a good view through the gates.

We also got to see the distinctive architectural style of the of the Scottish Parliament Building, and the Salisbury Crags jutting up dramatically behind them.

We'd be returning first thing tomorrow morning to hike the trail that runs beneath them. But for now, we ran to catch the bus that would take us back home. We tried to get my dad to watch the pilot episode of The Expanse, but we didn’t quite make it to the end before we were all starting to drift off.

The next morning, we bused back to Holyrood Palace and picked up where we left off--facing down the Salisbury Crags.

We--or at least I--didn't have the time or nerve to climb the larger Arthur's seat, but the Crags offered a nice compromise. And we didn't actually climb the top of the Crags. Rather, we followed the Radical Road that runs halfway up the Crags, along the foot of the cliff face.

The Radical Road is named for a group of workers that took part in a nationwide strike in 1820 known as the Radical War. Wealthy Scottish citizens like Sir Walter Scot who supported the Radicals decided to support them by paying them to do other work while they were on strike--such as building a completely unnecessary road midway up the Salisbury Crags and parallel to a perfectly serviceable road that already existed.

The beginning was steep, and my dad and I quickly started to question our decision, but all doubts were erased as we got high enough to see the view over the city.

At its height, the road cuts through Hollyrood Park, which used to be the private hunting grounds of the kings and queens of Scotland.

Reaching the end of the Radical Road, we kept on going toward the neighborhood of Duddingston and the highly-recommended Sheep Heid Inn. The inn has reputedly been in operation for over 600 years, which would make it the oldest pub in Edinburgh and possibly all of Scotland. The name comes from the old Scotts English for sheep’s head. The popular explanation is that King James VI of Scotland (and I of England) presented the pub owners with a golden snuff box engraved with a ram’s head on the lid. The pub was halfway between two royal residences, so James would often visit the pub along the way.

The kitchen wasn't quite open yet, so the three of us ordered drinks and enjoyed a rest after our hike. Once the kitchen opened, the food turned out to be just as spectacular as all the people who'd recommended it to us said. Jessica and I both had linguine with crab, shrimp, and chorizo. I don't even like seafood, but I loved that meal.

After lunch, we took an Uber back to the World’s End, where we each had a shot of Drambuie in honor of my dad’s Scottish friend John. For those of you who didn't know either, Drambuie is a sweet liqueur made from Scotch whisky, honey, and spices. A very distinctive beverage, it somehow manages to be both delicious and disgusting at the same time.

Our long-awaited toast complete, we decided to make it an official pub crawl and continued over to the BrewDog pub on Cowgate. My dad and I had learned about Brewdog from the TV show Brew Dogs, where the two Scottish brewers who run BrewDog travel the US crafting locally inspired novelty beers and converting beer skeptics to the way of the hop.

My dad had their signature Punk IPA, and I had their 5AM Saint red ale. I generally don’t like IPAs, but the Punk was surprisingly well-balanced despite being so hoppy. It had the sour and citrusy notes of a typical IPA, but very little bitterness. My ale was also surprisingly good. It was hoppier than any other red or amber ale I’ve had before, but the bright hoppy notes actually did a great job balancing out the ale and making it refreshing instead of heavy.

Jessica had a cider that was pretty good, too.

Went to St. Giles’ Cathedral, the seat of the Church of Scotland. It isn’t the largest, but it is stunning inside. The stained glass is mostly modern, but it is strikingly good.

It's free to enter the cathedral, but you are expected to pay if you want to take pictures. And we can confirm that the people working there will not hesitate to call you out for breaking the rule.

We still had some shopping to do--including picking up something for dinner--so we decided to walk over to New Town. I lead us along my footsteps from the previous day, taking Jessica and my dad through narrow closes and down the hill.

Tomorrow, we would head out early for Islay, so we caught a bus home with plenty of time to rest up and start packing.

Before I close our chapter on Edinburgh, I have to mention our charming hosts, Joyce and Ian. They were very kind and accommodating, but sometimes we felt that they didn't expect us to take them up on their offers as much as we did.

For example, they said we couldn’t use the kitchen to cook, but we could use it to heat a ready meal up in the oven. On our last night, we bought some meat pies that we didn’t realize at first weren’t microwavable. Ian said that it would be no problem for us to use the oven, and he even showed us some tips on how to get the crust to brown up just right. But when Joyce showed up and asked suspiciously what we were up to, Ian was nowhere to be seen.

It was a good time, and I’m glad that Jessica and I got to enjoy the British bed and breakfast experience several times during our months on the island. But we really found out just how strongly we prefer having a place to ourselves with a proper kitchen that we can use whenever we want.

Next Post: Islay (Introduction and Arrival)

Last Post: Hadrian’s Wall and the Scottish Borders

[marcythewerewolf]

Hi! Sorry if this comes across as completely random but I was deep in your writing tag and I saw the Always Faerie AU. I just had to say that I’m incredibly intrigued by it and I was wondering if you had any more headcanons about it that you could share? Or if you aren’t planning on writing it in the future, could you summarize what you had intended to happen in it? Thanks! Love your content!

I already put down some headcanons here, so if you haven’t read those, that’s a good starting place. I actually do have a pretty good sense of where the plot would go, in a broad sense. But rather than give you all bullet points, I’ll try a short fic to start it out and then summarize the general plot from there.

There was no question about it. Helen was gone, and Mark knew three things.

One: He could not tell his mother. She wouldn’t survive another dose of heartbreak.

Two: The Seelie would not help him find her. She was a bother to them, just as much as he was. The Seelie Queen was interested in them, but that interest manifested as little more than occasional indulgence or demand. Nene loved them, in her own way, but she was sworn to the court with faerie vows. She would not disobey.

Three: The world was not kind to people like them. Every moment that passed decreased the chances he’d find Helen alive. The Circle could have her, or the Unseelie, or Lilith herself for all he knew.

Action was needed. Quickly.

“She might be somewhere we haven’t checked yet,” Cristina suggested, as if they hadn’t searched every nook and cranny of the Seelie’s underground abode, and even most of the forest above. “Or maybe she got lost.”

Miach shook his head. “No. No. If she went out she would have left a note- she always leaves a note.”

“Then mayhaps the note was lost,” Kieran said, trying to be soothing and failing. He looked almost as spooked as Mark.

A dull dread filled the pit of Miach’s stomach. “I want to check her room again,” he whispered.

Helen’s room was next to his, two little alcoves off their mother’s sick room that had served them since they were children. But as the lady Nerissa had grown sicker and sicker, Helen had taken over more and more of her old spaces. Her library, her sitting room, both were Helen’s now. Mark had been left only a pantry of herbs, but hadn’t minded much. He’d always preferred exploring to sitting home, stewing in grief.

The box was in the library, hidden behind two scrolls in ancient greek. It took them an hour of searching to find it, another hour his sister could be in peril. By the time Kieran came down with the flat, abalone box, Mark felt bloodless.

“Do you want me to open it?” Cristina asked, because Cristina was kind in a way only people raised out of the courts could be.

“No,” Miach said. Heart aching, he opened the box.

Inside were letters, dozens of them, some on crisp white paper and some on fancy stationary with blue flowers printed on them. All of them looked terribly human, right down to the bubbly handwriting.

Mark felt himself relax. She’d run away with a human then. That was almost safe, almost normal. He could find her, he could bring her home.

(How she’d met her beau was a mystery of its own- neither of Nerissa’s children had ever been allowed outside of Faerie, but there would be time to interrogate her on that later.)

Kieran gasped. “The name,” he whispered, “Miach, read the name.”

At the bottom, in the same girlish handwriting it said:

…It seems now that the world has turned to gold. Even so, all it reminds me of is your hair and your lips

Unfailingly Yours,

Aline

Aline. He had heard that name before.

Kieran hastened to explain. “There was a delegation of Shadowhunters, a year ago.” Long before they had known each other. “They came to the Unseelie Court and said they were visiting the Seelie Queen as well. There was a girl with them by the name of Aline. Aline Penhallow.”Mark’s heart stopped.

He remembered the shadowhunters as well. There had been about five of them, all dressed in black. Nene had tried to keep Alessa and Miach as far away from them as possible but the Seelie Queen had called Helen to court in spite of her protests. Mark, still a child by faerie standards, had remained locked in his room.

Helen had come home looking a bit flushed and harried, but she’d insisted it had all been fine, that the Shadowhunters hadn’t wanted anything to do with her and Mark.

He’d always known his sister could lie, but she’d never lied to him before.

How long had she and this Shadowhunter girl been communicating? How had they planned to stay in touch? How many months had Aline Penhallow planned to lure his sweet, gentle sister into a trap?

Cristina was the one who spoke first. Lightly, she placed a hand on Miach’s shoulder and said, “We should go, now. If we’re going to rescue Helen we’ll need to leave at night, which means we should have been packing ages ago.”

It took a moment for him to realize what she meant, and almost instantly his mind turned to suspicion. “You can’t leave. You’re sworn to the Seelie Queen.”

“Family is more important than oaths,” Cristina declared. “And this is family. Besides, I’m probably human, I’m not expected to behave like a civilized faerie.” That was true, there was more leeway for those with naturally twisted minds, who couldn’t be held to their promises like proper beings. Young changelings and half-faeries were considered to be charity cases, and there was no one to blame but nature if they broke a few promises. At worst she’d get beaten.

It was still a lot to ask of anyone. Miach tried to smile, so she’d know he appreciated it.

“Kieran,” she said, turning to their lover, who seemed trapped in his own private hell. “Can you cover for us here?”

Slowly, the prince turned to look at them. Then, thoughtfully, he said, “No. I can’t. I’m coming with you.”

Kieran would get worse than beaten if he tried to escape. Hostages weren’t something either court took lightly. Miach grabbed his hands. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I’m tired of being a pawn. I can leave the court with the two of you, the magic binding me allows it, and they won’t be able to modify that at a distance. There are no oaths restricting me. One might even argue that I’m obligated to try to escape.”

One might, Mark thought, but few would. It wasn’t a plea that would hold up well in any trial.

Escaping with a prince put them all in more danger. On the other hand, Kieran was more powerful and more skilled at combat than either of them, and if they wanted to rescue Helen they’d need someone who could actually wield a sword.

He turned to Cristina. “It’s your call.” She was the second most likely to suffer the consequences, if they were caught.

Cristina added her hands to theirs, making more of a determined mound than a desperate hold. “We’re better together,” she said.

Neither of them were prepared to argue with her.

Most of the story I have sketched out involves trying to find Helen (and later Aline, since they both got kidnapped together and the Penhallows made them promise to rescue them both). But since the Circle is pretty good at shielding, they have to use some very roundabout methods to try to track them down- first they talk to Aline’s family, then Cristina’s family, then moving onto Kieran’s, then the entire Downworld, and so on. 

It’s evolves into sort of a globe trotting semi-heist as they search for ingredients to make the elusive perfect tracking spell that Mark has only heard written about. 

Also they have to stay one step ahead of the Seelie knights looking for them. 

And it’s a race against time cause who knows what the Circle is planning to do with Helen and Aline. (Spoiler: Helen actually has a pretty good handle on it and is leveraging some of her magical knowledge for protection.)

Jia Penhallow recognizes Cristina but doesn’t tell her. She does tell the Rosales family who are now searching for this faerie raised girl they thought they lost years ago. 

Cristina’s faerie family panics when they hear she met Shadowhunters and try to smother Mark in rose petals. 

Kieran’s family is proud of him for the first time in his life (Made off with two Seelie courtiers! Atta boy!) but does try to keep them, to gain the upper hand on the Seelie Court. They end up having to fight their way out. 

When they barter their way into the siege situation Spiral Labyrinth, Malcolm Fade hears the name Blackthorn and has a panic attack and then Catarina Loss makes everyone hot chocolate. 

They have a cute dinner on the Strip while trying to figure out their way into the Shadowworld Market. Then Johnny Rook reveals that Mark’s dad is alive and throws even more drama on the family fire. 

Their last stop is the Wild Hunt, because they need an ingredient from Gwyn ap Nudd himself. It’s terrifying and also a learning experience for everyone. 

Finally they’re ready to break into Valentine’s HQ, but in the course of traipsing around two worlds to figure out where it is they realized how woefully unprepared they are to fight the Circle. So they last minute find some allies in the families they’ve lost. Andrew Blackthorn just found out he had a daughter an hour ago and he’s ready to call in some favors for her. 

Climactic battle. Secrets revealed. Helen and Aline refuse to be parted. So on and so forth. Very standard, heroic story. But during all the camping out in the woods of faerie and finding a hotel room in LA, Mark, Cristina, Kieran are still struggling with their relationship, which started out as a way to pass the time and make friends but is now something much more. 

They were all raised by faeries and they’re very good at passion and pretty words, but not super great at navigating complicated emotional pasts, or talking about feelings honestly. 

In the end, can they stay together? Will they stay together?

(Of course, duh. I think they end up with the Rosales long term, though Kieran might go to the Wild Hunt and just be a very long distance boyfriend.)

[yahoo-roto-arcade-blog]

Week 6 fantasy rookie report: We have ourselves two superstars

We’re now more than a quarter of the way through the season and this rookie class is proving to be for real in the fantasy world. A week after losing two key contributors, the rooks turned right around and submitted a sterling week led by two emerging stars in the AFC South.

Superstars: Kareem Hunt, Leonard Fournette

(AP Photo/Don Wright)

Kareem Hunt has company, and they share the same position.

Yes, welcome to fantasy superstardom Leonard Fournette.

The LSU product put in a performance for the ages on Sunday, ripping through the Pittsburgh defense — in Pittsburgh, mind you — for 181 yards and two scores. Fournette vaults into this category thanks to a 90-yard touchdown run late in the fourth quarter with the Jaguars already up a couple of scores:

Leonard Fournette made (and ruined) a lot of fantasy weeks with this 90-yard TD run. pic.twitter.com/Jd9OhlIHc2

— CBS Sports (@CBSSports) October 8, 2017

Fantasy doesn’t discriminate when it comes to game timing/situation, and Fournette, for the third time in five weeks, has scored late with the game — from a competitive standpoint — over. In previous iterations of this column I’ve discussed this phenomenon: The Jaguars will feed Fournette no matter how much time is left and no matter how little the carry may matter in the outcome of the game. The Jaguars are built on defense and running the football. Opportunity rules over everything in fantasy. And Fournette is pretty darn good of taking advantage of those opportunities.

In regard to Hunt, Houston actually did a fantastic job limiting the league’s leading rusher. Guess what? He still finished with over 100 yards on the ground and 116 total yards. He touched the rock 32 times and remains the lead back of the efficient Kansas City offense. What separated him from a good fantasy day and a great one was two short touchdown catches by his seldom-used backup, Charcandrick West. Have no worries, though: Hunt should get back in the endzone soon enough after not finding pay dirt the past two weeks in a row.

Clear starters: Deshaun Watson

What an incredible rise it’s been for Watson. He put together another masterful performance — fantasy-wise — against the Chiefs on Sunday night. He’s been terrific for three straight weeks. In fact, it’s worth considering elevating him to superstar status.

But here’s the thing: Unlike Hunt and Fournette, the opportunity won’t be there every single week for Watson. The Texans aren’t going to engage in high-scoring affairs every week that force him to throw an inordinate of deep passes. And the Texans won’t mind that one bit. Watson’s been lucky to have a lot of would-be picks dropped and a lot of incredible plays made on low-percentage passes, especially on Sunday night. Still, Watson’s proved to be a multi-dimensional threat, and that holds great value in fantasy. Unless you have an absolute star at quarterback, Watson’s worth a start.

Solid contributors: Alvin Kamara, Joe Mixon, Cooper Kupp, Christian McCaffrey, Evan Engram, Marlon Mack, Aaron Jones

(AP Photo/Michael Ainsworth)

In PPR leagues, Kamara could very well be on his way to becoming a clear starter, even though he’s not the starter on his own team. The Saints just traded away Adrian Peterson, leaving just Kamara and Mark Ingram in the backfield. This is after Kamara posted a 10-catch, 96-yard, one-touchdown performance that won him Rookie of the Week two weeks ago. He’ll look to be a continued feature in this pass-heavy offense.

Mixon found the end zone for the first time as a professional and continues to function in the lead role in Cincinnati. The second-rounder had 15 carries while Gio Bernard and Jeremy Hill combined for just six. It wasn’t easy going against a tough Bills run defense, but the Bengals — who are finally showing life after an 0-3 start — get a bye this week and then face the league’s second-worst (Pittsburgh) and worst (Jacksonville) rushing defenses in the league, sandwiched around a date with the struggling Colts.

Kupp dropped a tough one on Sunday against the Seahawks, but that doesn’t mean you should drop him. He’s tied for second-most targets on the team, only one behind Robert Woods. He’ll keep getting the opportunities, and the Rams won’t be facing the Seahawks every week.

McCaffrey was also held in check in Week 5, but his stock holds steady. He’s averaging just 2.9 yards per carry this season, but it’s not like  Jonathan Stewart (3.9 yards per carry) is doing much better. The Panthers are struggling on the ground. But McCaffrey’s abilities as a receiver and a playmaker in space keep him here, and his first NFL score this weekend certainly doesn’t hurt either.

After a very consistent start to the year, Engram didn’t catch a single pass on the Giants’ disastrous Sunday. But with no Odell Beckham Jr. and no Brandon Marshall for the rest of this year, Engram’s going to see a ton of targets. Can he find ways to get open without defenses having to focus on Beckham Jr. and Marshall? Even if he struggles with added focus on him, Engram’s one of the few healthy bodies left. He’s worth a roster spot.

A hearty welcome to Marlon Mack, making his debut in this column. With the normally dependable Frank Gore fumbling twice, Mack took advantage of his opportunity and then some, rumbling for 91 yards and a score on just nine carries. Normally Gore, now seventh on the all-time rushing list, is the bell cow in that backfield. But Mack provides much more burst, which he put on display multiple times Sunday. Yes, the 49ers are awful. But the Colts plan to only get Mack more involved going forward. Nab him off the free agency pool if possible.

After a monster week, Aaron Jones makes his debut in this column as well. The rookie out of UTEP confirmed our suspicion that he could be a perfect fit for the Green Bay offense, racking up 134 yards on just 20 touches. Ty Montgomery’s been solid, but he’s not built for the workload he had been getting previous to his broken ribs. Remember, this is a Packers team that has unearthed running back gems like Ryan Grant, James Starks and even Montgomery himself seemingly out of nowhere. Could Jones be the next? He won’t make Montgomery completely obsolete, but he’s more than worth a roster spot. The Packers face a stiff Vikings run defense this coming weekend, when we’ll find out a lot regarding Jones’ abilities.

Fringe roster guys: Matt Breida, Tarik Cohen, Waynes Gallman, Kenny Golladay, Corey Davis

Breida makes his debut after a strong Week 5. After a couple of early second-half miscues from Carlos Hyde, Breida took over down the stretch and played well, racking up 71 total yards on 13 touches. It’s tough to tell what Hyde’s benching means. Did head coach Kyle Shanahan just sit him down for the game? He had struggled finding much in the first half, too. Is it a long term thing after how well Breida filled in? Hyde’s a talented runner, but Breida was already showing good things in the first four weeks before putting it all on display in the second half. Shanahan maintained he was simply going with the “hot hand” against the Colts. But if Breida’s hot handedness continues, that alone is worth a roster spot.

Cohen drops down a tier after a second-straight quiet week. After going over 100 total yards in two of his first three weeks, Cohen has totaled just 55 total yards in the past two games. Mitch Trubisky looked to pass more to tight ends Zach Miller and Dion Sims as his safety valves rather than his diminutive fellow rookie backfield mate, and Jordan Howard has fully returned to the undisputed workhorse. Don’t panic on Cohen just yet, but don’t plan on him contributing like you could have a few weeks ago.

After scoring in his debut, Gallman racked up 82 total yards on 16 touches. He’ll compete with Orleans Darkwa and, once he comes back from injury, Paul Perkins for carries, but for now he’s stuck on a team already out of playoff contention and certainly willing to see what it’s getting out of its fourth-rounder from Clemson. Gallman’s injected some juice into what was a lifeless rushing attack when Perkins was leading the way. He should continue to have a significant role going forward.

Golladay and Davis remain in this group and will until they get healthy. Both are talented enough and both have good enough quarterbacks to be on every roster when they can play again.

Keep an eye on: David Njoku, Mike Williams, Elijah McGuire, JuJu Smith-Schuster, George Kittle

(AP Photo/Michael Conroy)

Njoku caught another touchdown. He’s been one of the few bright spots on Cleveland. That still doesn’t make him all too fantasy relevant, but he does remain a guy to monitor.

Williams will make his NFL debut against Oakland this week! It’s been a long road back, but the 1-4 won’t rush him back. Don;t expect a full workload from the Clemson product, but do watch how he’s used and if Philip Rivers looks his way often, especially in the red zone.

McGuire is the only fully healthy running back for the Jets. He didn’t get much going against the Browns on Sunday, which is worrisome, but that doesn’t mean he should fall off the radar completely. It just proves he’s not quite worthy of roster consideration yet.

On a day in which his quarterback had his worst day, Smith-Schuster has his best, catching four passes for 58 yards. As a slot receiver, he’s unlikely to produce many big plays down the field, but he’s also growing more and more into the offense with each passing week. Another solid week could move him up to fringe roster territory.

George Kittle makes his debut after a breakout Week 5. The Iowa product caught seven passes for 83 yards and a score. On the final regulation-time drive alone, he caught five for 70 and a score. He converted on two huge fourth downs. Basically, he was really, really good. Kittle’s not a guy who will wow you with athleticism, but rather he’s a very dependable player and undoubtedly the top tight end for the 49ers. Kyle Shanahan knows how to get tight ends to produce, too: Before Sunday, no San Francisco tight end had caught at least seven passes in a game since Vernon Davis in 2013.