#lay him out on the dinner table like a three course meal and forking Feast ughhhh

[mossterunderthebed]

!!!!!

Oh my gosh I love this! That sounds awesome!!

Now, personally, I was thinking, like, a cursed technique or something drops Gojo in the world of Lotr and he ends up getting picked up by a travelling batch of elves and taken to Imladris (or he lands in Imladris in the first place- face-first you understand because that would also be funny) to Chill and Heal y'know 'cause they'd see his Issues and Overwork and be like, 'oh no you need elven therapy' *yoink!*

But the thing about Gojo is that he Does Not Heal because he would have to Sit Still and Think in order to Chill or Deal With His Issues, which is a Big No. So he just runs around causing chaos and giving elves existential crises (have yet to decide if he'd still have his powers or not because I would assume LotR would be a land with magic and without CE because the energy that Vibes there is different because Different Worlds but that depends on your interpretation of the theory of the multiverse and multiple worlds and etc. etc. etc.)

And whether he meets Cast and Crew is also up to you as well as Which One but mostly i just had this image in my head of Elrond staring at the camera with a deadpan 'I'm too old for this' expression while something blows up in the background smoke wafts up and elves scream (musically).

*Remember that to the elves Gojo would be A BABY and they've absolutely had Chaotic Babies before but Gojo would despise being seen as such and would absolutely take it as motivation to become The Most Chaotic Baby the elves have Ever Seen out of spite and then eventually Yuuji shows up through a portal he forcibly ripped through worlds with the help of the (unwilling) sorcerer/Curse User's technique-

(Who knows maybe he ate him and absorbed it, the levels of freak you're willing to go to are still Up To You, maybe it's left purposefully vague so the option is there, the amount which Yuuji are is also Up To You, heck maybe he found a way to just eat a person's technique, thus ripping one of the most essential parts of them out of their bodies permanently, I don't know, the author left it purposefully vague.)

-and is like 'There you are sensei we've been looking everywhere for you , you were late to class, did you know? Kugisaki and Megumi are ticked. Welp, time to go home now' and *yoinks* him right back out again.

The elves return to their Regularly Scheduled Programming but books are written about Gojo in the dead of night because they, as a collective, Cannot Get Him Out Of Their Head. Nobody writes ballads though because they are trying to Stop Remembering, not Remember More. None of the elves talk about it ever again.

I have just discovered there are no Jujutsu Kaisen/Lord of the Rings crossovers and I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed

[russian-romanova]

all is right before the storm, part two. | bucky barnes x reader

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part title: two ; a dinner and a drink

pairing: 1940s!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 4K

warnings: they drink a lil alcohol, although no one gets drunk, little bit of language, mentions of super minor character death offscreen

notes: thank you, everyone, who read part one. this means a lot to me, so thank you! i tried to bring in some personal memories from having a large family, but also had to make up a family for bucky since his pre-steve life is pretty unknown in the mcu. 

taglist: @20coldhearts (ask to be added!) 

summary: bucky is pleasantly surprised by your family’s comforting yet unique aura during dinner, and afterward the two of you talk family and war over some drinks. 

                 +       +      +

The rain droned on softly throughout the afternoon. Although it was harder to hear downstairs, far from the roof and surrounded by the buzz and chatter of your family, it became white noise in your childhood room.

Staying once more in your old room brought with it a strange mixture of comfort and unfamiliarity. You hadn’t lived in it in close to three years, yet it was as if you came home to it every day as you had done for a large amount of your life. You knew where everyone was since it was as you had left it. The lamp on your bedside table was like habit to turn it on, and you remember where you kept your old hairbrush like you had put it away twenty-minutes earlier. The mind and memory are fantastical things, you thought to yourself. They tend to remember the littlest of things that seemingly won’t matter in the long run. 

Whatever the reason, you were glad you wouldn’t have to spend twenty minutes searching for an object you would utilize for twenty seconds. With you hairbrush in your grip, you made your way over to a mirror that you had spent many hours in front of, using it to fix your hair and perfect it. Once you had finished the little correcting you felt necessary, you found it nice to just sit there, listening to the rain and clearing your head before rejoining your family. You loved them to death, of course, but they were often crazy. 

You were called down by your mother’s voice, informing you of the doorbell. Time had passed quicker than you had expected, and you knew it must have been Bucky already. 

You rushed down the stairs, politely pushing past Helen, Jean, and Marjorie who had been standing and talking at the bottom of the stairs. You quickly opened the door to be met with Bucky huddled under the coverage your larger porch offered, the sound of the rain growing louder behind him. 

“You’re here!” You exclaimed, hoping for a moment that you didn’t sound too happy. “Did you forget your mom?”

“No, my sister Rebecca arrived early and offered to look after her.” Bucky gave you a half-smile and gestured in the direction of his mother’s house. 

“Well, she can come over too!” You smiled, peeking behind him a little as if you would see her. Quickly you reposition yourself and apologize, “Not that your company isn’t enough. We…” You noticed your own fast speed in talking and paused to slow down. “We’re so happy to have you.”

Bucky grinned, outstretching a hand that you noticed was full of flowers. “Here, these are for you.”

Your smile became more soft and real. “Oh, thank you! You didn’t need to do that.” “My ma taught me to never come empty-handed.” He pushed them a little closer to you until you took them in your own hands. 

“Thank you.” For a moment, you forget what came next, too flustered by the appearance of Bucky Barnes with flowers. “Here, you can come in. We haven’t started yet.” Bucky walked in, politely closing the door behind him and pushing his shoes off and placing them on the mat near the door. “I’m going to put these in a vase and we can all get to eating.” You hurried to the back of the kitchen, Bucky waiting patiently as he watched you fill up a tall and skinny vase with water and place the flowers inside. He hoped you couldn’t tell that they were just cut from his backyard and nothing special. His mother had, of course, told him to never show up empty-handed, but the lesson that resounded on his mind was that most women liked flowers. 

You walked past him in a hurry, placing the vase on a small table in the kitchen and moving past him to enter the dining area. “Y/L/Ns! Food is getting cold.” You took your seat, and Bucky found his way next to you. Like a flood breaking a dam, your sisters and brothers entered, taking their seats and saving the heads of the table for your father and Jack since it was his meal.

Your mother and father entered last, and your oldest brother George jokingly announced them as if it was a fancy event. You looked from person to person, each one making eye contact with you and then moving onto another sibling as a child excited for Christmas might do. You were excited after all. It had felt like ages since everyone was together for a big meal like this, especially now that big meals were becoming more difficult to come by with rationing and lack of hearty foods in general. 

“Everybody here?” Your father looked from face to face as if expecting any absent person to tell him they weren’t there. “No? Well, dig in!” The clinking of food began almost instantly, and chatter followed, giggling arising from the younger girls. 

“We don’t really pray,” You made an apology in Bucky’s direction, grabbing a roll from the basket being passed around the table. 

He took them once you were finished. “Nah, it’s fine. I can’t say I do, either.” 

A smile of relief found its way onto your face. “Oh, well it works out then!” 

“I’d say so.” Bucky returned the smile. Your eyes flashed across his face, and the way his glimmering eyes and crooked smile seemed to make him fit in even more. You could feel your face fluster red, and you turned to the table as you examined the platter laid before you. There were meats and salads, green beans and chopped potatoes. To the far end of either table there lay a basket of rolls, waiting to be passed around with a plate of butter that accompanied them. Sweet potatoes sat in the middle next to a large bowl of your mother’s famous stuffing, and you reached first for that. 

“So Bucky,” Ruth’s voice rose from across the table over the clattering and clinking of silverware against plates, and you blushed the moment she spoke. She hadn’t said anything and you knew it was on the way to embarrass you. Ruth had been that sort of person since you could remember, making sure to say the things that didn’t necessarily hurt or harass you but made you embarrassed enough that she got a little delight from it. “You said you’re from Brooklyn too?”

“Yes, but it’s big enough that I’ve never met your sister,” He looked up and spoke politely, clearly striving to impress your family. “Not that I know of, anyway.” He didn’t seem uncomfortable in the new atmosphere, which surprised you. Perhaps that was just because you seemed to be practically pathetic in new situations, constantly fiddling with your skirt or any bracelets that would adorn your wrists. 

“That’s so crazy,” Marjorie spoke up, shoving a fork full of green beans into her mouth. You almost laughed, your hand moving to your mouth to cover your snort. You knew from the forkful that it was too full for her mouth to intake, although Marjorie didn’t realize it until she began wildly coughing and spitting a few of her beans back onto her plate. 

A few of your siblings groaned, and your mother almost gagged. “Marjorie, please!” You were surprised that she wasn’t saying anything to you or your laughing siblings, disciplining you for egging her on. When your gaze cast to a chuckling Bucky, however, you figured she was being polite to your family’s guest. 

“Good to know you guys have a good sense of humor,” Bucky smiled. “I was worried for a minute there that maybe you didn’t laugh.”

Still giddy from the green bean incident, even that thought made you giggle. “Out of everyone, I think I’m most likely to laugh.” 

“I can see where you get it from,” Bucky laughed, gesturing slightly to your mother. She was laughing almost hysterically from something Helen had said, although Helen seemed less than thrilled she was laughing.

“Alright, alright, I’ve got something to say about good ol’ Jack Jr.,” George stood up, raising a glass as if to say something emotional. “Eat up, buddy. Have fun starving in the army.” Laughter and chatter rose, and George had to raise his voice to be heard. “And a reminder for the rest of us -- this is just half of the feast we’ll have once Jackie’s gone!” George joked, raising a glass.

Jean laughed, her bright green eyes looking over at her twin’s. “Here, here!”

Was it cruel? Perhaps. But to you, it was natural. Your family joked like this every day, and you remembered it being this way since the day you were born, and you sure it had been going on for years before that. 

“Oh come on, come on,” Jack stood up, laughing as well. You smiled at him. Noticing for the first time how similar his laugh was to your father’s. “We can all have a feast that will make this seem like nothing when I kill Hitler.” 

“Personally?” Ruth giggled.

“Bring us his head,” You laughed along with her, the two of you making giddy eye contact.

You were surprised when Bucky added, “Which’ll happen before or after Germany elects you as their new chancellor?” Jack responded as if Bucky was another sibling he had dealt with his whole life, and now a stranger that he hadn’t even personally met. “Well, killing ol’ Adolf will come before, naturally. How’d you think I won the chancellorship anonymously?” With that statement, he found his chair once more, now seemingly speechless and Roxie planted a kiss on his cheek, giggling and saying something you couldn’t hear over your family’s talkative roar. 

“You certainly come from an ambitious family,” Bucky joked as he leaned towards you a little, spooning a potato onto his fork as he did so. 

“Oh, when it comes to war, we never joke,” You put on a very sophisticated face and straightened your posture, clearly in a silly mood already. “Legend has it, our Grandfather David Y/L/N the second ended the first world war. And you know what they say -- the apples don’t fall far from the tree.” By now you were fighting to suppress a laugh. 

“Legend has it our Grandpa David was crazy,” Samantha corrected. “And you know what they say-” “-The apples don’t fall far from the tree!” Marjorie finished, laughing like a hyena. 

The rest of the night seemed to continue along similarly, everyone laughing and the looming loss of Jack Jr. to the Air Force seemed a threat not to be mentioned. When the main food was finished, Ruth excused herself and brought out two pies that she had made earlier that way, to which everyone cheered. After eating, everyone was required to help out with the dishes, and you and Bucky had too much fun drying them with the long white rags you had used since you were four years old. 

“Do you want to head to the porch?” You asked once you were all done with dinner and the continuing aspects, suddenly a timid teenager as you looked from the groups your family had already formed to Bucky.

“Sure,” He looked towards the window briefly. “Funny, I didn’t even realize it had stopped raining.”

You met his gaze before looking back to him. “Oh yeah, I think it stopped during dinner.” Wordlessly, you made your way over the refrigerator as Bucky watched you. “Do you want a beer, Bucky?” He leaned his head back a little, straining to see what kinds you had from his standing spot. Giving up, he asked. “What do you got?” You used your hand to rummage through the pale yellow refrigerator. “Lots of Hamm’s. George and Roxie were in charge of alcohol and they live in Minnesota now, so…” You trailed off, pausing a moment longer as you double-checked. “Yep, just Hamm’s.”

“Hamm’s sounds fantastic.” 

You chuckled, although you were sure only you could hear it and you leaned in to grab out two beers. Once you swung around, Bucky accepted the beer before walking with you outside. 

Your family’s porch brought back more memories than almost any other part of your house. The white paint was chipping in some parts more exposed to weather, but that paint had been there for as long as you could remember. There was worn and flattened grey fabric underfoot, and white half walls that went around the border not attached to the house, save for the entrance in front of the door. Bucky and you both situated in outdoor chairs next to one another. You found yourself too immersed in recalling past times since you entered this porch to even think of a conversation starter. 

“What’s your favorite childhood memory?” Bucky asked as if reading your mind. “Like here. On this porch.” 

You paused for a moment to think it over. It was a big question, but you chuckled once you realized. “Yeah, when we were kids we had this giant bus, like an old school bus-” You used your hands to exaggerate the size. “And mom and dad let us paint it. However, we wanted. I mean, I must have been five at the time. Ruth wasn’t older than ten. We had no idea what we were doing! But it was…” You trailed off, smiling to yourself. “It was so wonderful. The art wasn’t good, and it was all on the bottom half of the bus. But when it was all done, we went camping. With the bus. We just packed all of the shit we needed, put it in the back couple of seats, and drove across the state. God, it was crazy. But the porch-” It took you a moment to remember what the point of your story and your face turned redder than usual once you realized your ramble. “When we came back home, we drove for hours. Over twelve. When we got back, it was dark, and we were so tired that we literally just collapsed on the porch and slept. Our parents went inside, but they just let us stay there. We slept on this porch. I don’t even think we realized it until we woke up.” 

Once he was sure you were done, Bucky chuckled lightly. “Wow.” 

“Yeah,” The alcohol already brought up a chuckle from your throat. “I was right there.” You pointed to a corner against the house. “I was the second to wake up, after Ruth.” 

“Good thing it didn’t rain,” Bucky pointed out. 

You looked over to meet his eyes, smiling. “That’s very true.” You leaned forward, resting your head on your hands, while your elbows positioned themselves on your knees. “Hey, what about you? Your family?”

“Well,” Bucky stretched his legs for a moment as he spoke, “There’s me, I’m the oldest. Then there’s Rebecca, Marie, and Judy.”

“All girls? So you’re the odd man out, then.”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed before his voice fell a little quieter. “And there’s my mom, and she’s over there, and my dad left when I was twelve.” 

“Oh.” Your voice was just as soft. “I’m sorry. That’s horrible.” 

Bucky took a drink of his beer, shrugging. “We’re fine without him, you know?” You nodded, although you clearly didn’t know, and kept silent as you waited for the right words to come to you. “Is all of your family here?” 

You took the opportunity. “Yeah. Ruth’s the oldest, and she brought her fiancé Dick. Then there’s George and his wife Roxie, Samantha, me-” You gestured to yourself, “Helen, Jack Jr., and Jean are twins, and Marjorie is the baby of the family. It’s crazy.”

“All families are crazy,” Bucky laughed. “But you can’t imagine life without them, right?” 

“Right.” It was true. You were the fourth of eight kids, right in the middle and at the point where you never knew the life of an only child as the oldest might before its counterparts are born, or as the youngest might after its counterparts move out. You had always had family, large chunks on either side of you. You see so fortunate, you realized now. Bucky’s father was gone and his mother was sick, and he was the only boy in the family. No other males to interact with or really learn from. You loved your brothers to death, but you couldn’t imagine being only surrounded by them. 

“I’ve thought about enlisting,” Bucky spoke, his eyes remaining fixated on the distant hills. The topic came from the far reaches of his mind, but you could tell he was trying to keep the conversation up. “From time to time.” 

You took a drink. “Well, what’s stopping you?” 

Bucky shrugged. “My mom,” He leaned his head a little as he spoke, unmistakably tired but too used to pushing through it. “My sisters and I have been rotating looking after her as she recovers, but I couldn’t leave when she’s like this. I think she’s getting better though. I hope she is.”

“Look, I’ve never met your mom but I promise she’d be fine without you. Your sisters sound amazing, they get it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Honestly, even leaving tomorrow is gonna be hard. I just love her so much and it hurts that I can’t be there for her,” He paused, his eyebrows lowered in a somber gaze. 

“So you’ll be leaving tomorrow?” Your hand swirled the beer around in your can, feeling the liquid push enough against the metal of the can that it was felt in your palm. “For Brooklyn?”

“Now that Becca’s back, I guess. If not tomorrow then Thursday.”

You nodded slowly, almost having to process his words. “Yeah, I’m leaving Thursday. We all wanted to see Jack Jr. off tomorrow.” “Yeah, yeah,” Bucky agreed. “That makes sense, yeah.” You stared ahead, any comments staying behind your somber expression. For the first time in a long time, you felt as though you could let down your chipper personality and personal guard to be the person you felt like at that moment. Bucky’s charismatic personality spurred that, you supposed. “Hey, um…” You spoke without really thinking, your speech slowing as you thought of what would come next. “I feel like we should visit in Brooklyn. Or something like that. You know, it just seems like such a shame that we’d live so close to each other and forget ever talking. Right?” 

“I didn’t want to intrude, but I was thinking the same thing.” Bucky looked at you, his lips turning up to a smile. “Do you have an address or phone I could write down?”

“Oh! Yeah, let me just grab a piece of paper and a pen,” You stood up, reaching to place your beer can on the ground. Bucky intercepted it and offered to hold it, which you graciously let him do.

“Paper. Pen. Where?” You walked in through the screen door, speaking to no one in particular as you tried to minimize the time you made Bucky sit alone outside. For a moment it was silent, and you wondered if anyone could even hear you over the loud talking. 

“To your right!” Helen glanced up at you, and you turned to see a notepad and pen by the phone. “Just put it back in the same place.” “Will do! Thank you!” You shouted your response, grabbing it and walking back outside. Bucky looked towards you as you walked out, outstretching a hand to pass you back your beer. 

Thanking him, you sat down. “I’ll just tear a piece of paper in half to share,” You pulled a piece off, carefully ripping it in half and giving half to Bucky. In your neatest handwriting, you wrote:

Y/N Y/L/N

BR-20880

3517 Hoffman Avenue

Under which, you attempted to draw a small happy face, although it turned out worse than you hoped and considered scribbling it out altogether. You caught a glance of Bucky waiting for the pen, however, and you passed it to him instead. 

“Nice drawing,” He commented.

“Oh, shush,” You laughed, bringing Bucky smiled at your reaction. “This is why I’m an English major and not an art major.” 

“You’re an English major?” He looked up from

his scribbles. “Brooklyn College?” 

“Yes,” You nodded your head slowly at his guess. “Probably wasn’t hard to figure out, though.” 

“What, just because you live there?” He passed you the now completed sheet of paper, which you stuck in your pocket. “You seem like the type of dame who likes to travel.”

“To school every day? No thank you.” You chuckled. “And Brooklyn suits me very well.”

He nodded, chucking again. 

“What’s so funny?” You tilted your head. 

“A real live college girl. Learning English. Wow.” You could tell he was trying to be a jerk, and you laughed and pushed him softly with your hand. It was an action you had seen your mother do affectionately to your father hundreds of times, and you weren’t even sure it registered in your mind when you did it yourself. 

“I’m not learning English. I’m perfecting my English.” 

He whistled. “Give me a big word. I want to feel smarter, go.” 

You twirled your necklace in your hands for a minute before saying, “Axiomatic.” “Axiomatic?” Bucky repeated slowly.

You nodded. “It means obvious.” You hadn’t actually learned that one from school, but from your younger sister Jean. You had no idea where she had gotten it from, but it had been one of your favorite words for years

“Ooh, give me another. Hit me.”

“Meleagrine,” You said slowly. 

“Gave me chills,” He joked. 

After waiting for a moment, you answered, “Pertaining to turkeys,” smiling smugly. Bucky gave a hearty laugh, and you felt your own smile grow. “You liked that one, did you?”

“Oh, did I!” He looked back at you, his smile lingering. You realized how blue his eyes were. Not a dull sort of blue as your father and Ruth shared, but a bright blue. Reminiscent of the sky in the summer, or the ocean when the sun rises. For a second you thought you should look away, that you had been staring too long. Then you seemed to notice them all over again and were enthralled with the color once more. 

“Thanks for this,” You smiled at him, raising your voice to catch his attention before flickering your eyes away. “I should go inside, I think.”

“Yeah,” He looked back at you, his voice distant but his smile was near and warm. “Anytime.”

[readbookywooks]

THE HOUSE OF HARFANG

"Go on, Pole, do your stuff," whispered Scrubb. Jill found that her mouth was so dry that she couldn't speak a word. She nodded savagely at Scrubb. Thinking to himself that he would never forgive her (or Puddleglum either), Scrubb licked his lips and shouted up to the King giant. "If you please, Sire, the Lady of the Green Kirtle salutes you by us and said you'd like to have us for your Autumn Feast." The giant King and Queen looked at each other, nodded to each other, and smiled in a way that Jill didn't exactly like. She liked the King better than the Queen. He had a fine, curled beard and a straight eagle-like nose, and was really rather good-looking as giants go. The Queen was dreadfully fat and had a double chin and a fat, powdered face - which isn't a very nice thing at the best of times, and of course looks much worse when it is ten times too big. Then the King put out his tongue and licked his lips. Anyone might do that: but his tongue was so very large and red, and came out so unexpectedly, that it gave Jill quite a shock. "Oh, what good children!" said the Queen. ("Perhaps she's the nice one after all," thought Jill.) "Yes indeed," said the King. "Quite excellent children. We welcome you to our court. Give me your hands." He stretched down his great right hand - very clean and with any number of rings on the fingers, but also with terrible pointed nails. He was much too big to shake the hands which the children, in turn, held up to him; but he shook the arms. "And what's that?" asked the King, pointing to Puddleglum. "Reshpeckobiggle," said Puddleglum. "Oh!" screamed the Queen, gathering her skirts close about her ankles. "The horrid thing! It's alive." "He's quite all right, your Majesty, really, he is," said Scrubb hastily. "You'll like him much better when you get to know him. I'm sure you will." I hope you won't lose all interest in Jill for the rest of the book if I tell you that at this moment she began to cry. There was a good deal of excuse for her. Her feet and hands and ears and nose were still only just beginning to thaw; melted snow was trickling off her clothes; she had had hardly anything to eat or drink that day; and her legs were aching so that she felt she could not go on standing much longer. Anyway, it did more good at the moment than anything else would have done, for the Queen said: "Ah, the poor child! My lord, we do wrong to keep our guests standing. Quick, some of you! Take them away. Give them food and wine and baths. Comfort the little girl. Give her lollipops, give her dolls, give her physics, give her all you can think of - possets and comfits and caraways and lullabies and toys. Don't cry, little girl, or you won't be good for anything when the feast comes." Jill was just as indignant as you and I would have been at the mention of toys and dolls; and, though lollipops and comfits might be all very well in their way, she very much hoped that something more solid would be provided. The Queen's foolish speech, however, produced excellent results, for Puddleglum and Scrubb were at once picked up by gigantic gentlemen-in-waiting, and Jill by a gigantic maid of honour, and carried off to their rooms. Jill's room was about the size of a church, and would have been rather grim if it had not had a roaring fire on the hearth and a very thick crimson carpet on the floor. And here delightful things began to happen to her. She was handed over to the Queen's old Nurse, who was, from the giants' point of view, a little old woman almost bent double with age, and, from the human point of view, a giantess small enough to go about an ordinary room without knocking her head on the ceiling. She was very capable, though Jill did wish she wouldn't keep on clicking her tongue and saying things like "Oh la, la! Ups-adaisy" and "There's a duck" and "Now we'll be all right, my poppet". She filled a giant foot-bath with hot water and helped Jill into it. If you can swim (as Jill could) a giant bath is a lovely thing. And giant towels, though a bit rough and coarse, are lovely too, because there are acres of them. In fact you don't need to dry at all, you just roll about on them in front of the fire and enjoy yourself. And when that was over, clean, fresh, warmed clothes were put on Jill: very splendid clothes and a little too big for her, but clearly made for humans not giantesses. "I suppose if that woman in the green kirtle comes here, they must be used to guests of our size," thought Jill. She soon saw that she was right about this, for a table and chair of the right height for an ordinary grown-up human were placed for her, and the knives and forks and spoons were the proper size too. It was delightful to sit down, feeling warm and clean at last. Her feet were still bare and it was lovely to tread on the giant carpet. She sank in it well over her ankles and it was just the thing for sore feet. The meal - which I suppose we must call dinner, though it was nearer tea time - was cock-a-leekie soup, and hot roast turkey, and a steamed pudding, and roast chestnuts, and as much fruit as you could eat. The only annoying thing was that the Nurse kept coming in and out, and every time she came in, she brought a gigantic toy with her - a huge doll, bigger than Jill herself, a wooden horse on wheels, about the size of an elephant, a drum that looked like a young gasometer, and a woolly lamb. They were crude, badly made things, painted in very bright colours, and Jill hated the sight of them. She kept on telling the Nurse she didn't want them, but the Nurse said: "Tut-tut-tut-tut. You'll want 'em all right when you've had a bit of a rest, I know! Te-he-he! Beddy bye, now. A precious poppet!" The bed was not a giant bed but only a big four-poster, like what you might see in an old-fashioned hotel; and very small it looked in that enormous room. She was very glad to tumble into it. "Is it still snowing, Nurse?" she asked sleepily. "No. Raining now, ducky!" said the giantess. "Rain'll wash away all the nasty snow. Precious poppet will be able to go out and play tomorrow!" And she tucked Jill up and said good night. I know nothing so disagreeable as being kissed by a giantess. Jill thought the same, but was asleep in five minutes. The rain fell steadily all the evening and all the night, dashing against the windows of the castle, and Jill never heard it but slept deeply, past supper time and past midnight. And then came the deadest hour of the night and nothing stirred but mice in the house of the giants. At that hour there came to Jill a dream. It seemed to her that she awoke in the same room and saw the fire, sunk low and red, and in the firelight the great wooden horse. And the horse came of its own will, rolling on its wheels across the carpet, and stood at her head. And now it was no longer a horse, but a lion as big as the horse. And then it was not a toy lion, but a real lion, The Real Lion, just as she had seen him on the mountain beyond the world's end. And a smell of all sweet-smelling things there are filled the room. But there was some trouble in Jill's mind, though she could not think what it was, and the tears streamed down her face and wet the pillow. The Lion told her to repeat the signs, and she found that she had forgotten them all. At that, a great horror came over her. And Aslan took her up in his jaws (she could feel his lips and his breath but not his teeth) and carried her to the window and made her look out. The moon shone bright; and written in great letters across the world or the sky (she did not know which) were the words UNDER ME. After that, the dream faded away, and when she woke, very late next morning, she did not remember that she had dreamed at all. She was up and dressed and had finished breakfast in front of the fire when the Nurse opened the door and said: "Here's pretty poppet's little friends come to play with her." In came Scrubb and the Marsh-wiggle. "Hullo! Good morning," said Jill. "Isn't this fun? I've slept about fifteen hours, I believe. I do feel better, don't you?" "1 do," said Scrubb, "but Puddleglum says he has a headache. Hullo! - your window has a window seat. If we got up on that, we could see out." And at once they all did so: and at the first glance Jill said, "Oh, how perfectly dreadful!" The sun was shining and, except for a few drifts, the snow had been almost completely washed away by the rain. Down below them, spread out like a map, lay the flat hill-top which they had struggled over yesterday afternoon; seen from the castle, it could not be mistaken for anything but the ruins of a gigantic city. It had been flat, as Jill now saw, because it was still, on the whole, paved, though in places the pavement was broken. The criss-cross banks were what was left of the walls of huge buildings which might once have been giants' palaces and temples. One bit of wall, about five hundred feet high, was still standing; it was that which she had thought was a cliff. The things that had looked like factory chimneys were enormous pillars, broken off at unequal heights; their fragments lay at their bases like felled trees of monstrous stone. The ledges which they had climbed down on the north side of the hill - and also, no doubt the other ledges which they had climbed up on the south side - were the remaining steps of giant stairs. To crown all, in large, dark lettering across the centre of the pavement, ran the words UNDER ME. The three travellers looked at each other in dismay, and, after a short whistle, Scrubb said what they were all thinking, "The second and third signs muffed." And at that moment Jill's dream rushed back into her mind. "It's my fault," she said in despairing tones. "I - I'd given up repeating the signs every night. If I'd been thinking about them I could have seen it was the city, even in all that snow." "I'm worse," said Puddleglum. "I did see, or nearly. I thought it looked uncommonly like a ruined city." "You're the only one who isn't to blame," said Scrubb. "You did try to make us stop." "Didn't try hard enough, though," said the Marshwiggle. "And I'd no call to be trying. I ought to have done it. As if I couldn't have stopped you two with one hand each!" "The truth is," said Scrubb, "we were so jolly keen on getting to this place that we weren't bothering about anything else. At least I know I was. Ever since we met that woman with the knight who didn't talk, we've been thinking of nothing else. We'd nearly forgotten about Prince Rilian." "I shouldn't wonder," said Puddleglum, "if that wasn't exactly what she intended." "What I don't quite understand," said Jill, "is how we didn't see the lettering? Or could it have come there since last night. Could he - Aslan - have put it there in the night? I had such a queer dream." And she told them all about it. "Why, you chump!" said Scrubb. "We did see it. We got into the lettering. Don't you see? We got into the letter E in ME. That was your sunk lane. We walked along the bottom stroke of the E, due north - turned to our right along the upright - came to another turn to the right - that's the middle stroke - and then went on to the top left-hand corner, or (if you like) the north-eastern corner of the letter, and came back. Like the bally idiots we are." He kicked the window seat savagely, and went on, "So it's no good, Pole. I know what you were thinking because I was thinking the same. You were thinking how nice it would have been if Aslan hadn't put the instructions on the stones of the ruined city till after we'd passed it. And then it would have been his fault, not ours. So likely, isn't it? No. We must just own up. We've only four signs to go by, and we've muffed the first three." "You mean I have," said Jill. "It's quite true. I've spoiled everything ever since you brought me here. All the same - I'm frightfully sorry and all that - all the same, what are the instructions? UNDER ME doesn't seem to make much sense." "Yes it does, though," said Puddleglum. "It means we've got to look for the Prince under that city." "But how can we?" asked Jill. "That's the question," said Puddleglum, rubbing his big, frog-like hands together. "How can we now? No doubt, if we'd had our minds on our job when we were at the Ruinous City, we'd have been shown how - found a little door, or a cave, or a tunnel, met someone to help us. Might have been (you never know) Aslan himself. We'd have got down under those paving-stones somehow or other. Aslan's instructions always work: there are no exceptions. But how to do it now - that's another matter." "Well, we shall just have to go back, I suppose," said Jill. "Easy, isn't it?" said Puddleglum. "We might try opening that door to begin with." And they all looked at the door and saw that none of them could reach the handle, and that almost certainly no one could turn it if they did. "Do you think they won't let us out if we ask?" said Jill. And nobody said, but everyone thought, "Supposing they don't." It was not a pleasant idea. Puddleglum was dead against any idea of telling the giants their real business and simply asking to be let out; and of course the children couldn't tell without his permission, because they had promised. And all three felt pretty sure that there would be no chance of escaping from the castle by night. Once they were in their rooms with the doors shut, they would be prisoners till morning. They might, of course, ask to have their doors left open, but that would rouse suspicions. "Our only chance," said Scrubb, "is to try to sneak away by daylight. Mightn't there be an hour in the afternoon when most of the giants are asleep? - and if we could steal down into the kitchen, mightn't there be a back door open?" "It's hardly what I call a Chance," said the Marshwiggle. "But it's all the chance we're likely to get." As a matter of fact, Scrubb's plan was not quite so hopeless as you might think. If you want to get out of a house without being seen, the middle of the afternoon is in some ways a better time to try it than the middle of the night. Doors and windows are more likely to be open; and if you are caught, you can always pretend you weren't meaning to go far and had no particular plans. (It is very hard to make either giants or grown-ups believe this if you're found climbing out of a bedroom window at one o'clock in the morning.) "We must put them off their guard, though," said Scrubb. "We must pretend we love being here and are longing for this Autumn Feast." "That's tomorrow night," said Puddleglum. "I heard one of them say so." "I see," said Jill. "We must pretend to be awfully excited about it, and keep on asking questions. They think we're absolute infants anyway, which will make it easier." "Gay," said Puddleglum with a deep sigh. "That's what we've got to be. Gay. As if we hadn't a care in the world. Frolicsome. You two youngsters haven't always got very high spirits, I've noticed. You must watch me, and do as I do. I'll be gay. Like this" - and he assumed a ghastly grin. "And frolicsome" - here he cut a most mournful caper. "You'll soon get into it, if you keep your eyes on me. They think I'm a funny fellow already, you see. I dare say you two thought I was a trifle tipsy last night, but I do assure you it was - well, most of it was - put on. I had an idea it would come in useful, somehow." The children, when they talked over their adventures afterwards, could never feel sure whether this last statement was quite strictly true; but they were sure that Puddleglum thought it was true when he made it. "All right. Gay's the word," said Scrubb. "Now, if we could only get someone to open this door. While we're fooling about and being gay, we've got to find out all we can about this castle." Luckily, at that very moment the door opened, and the giant Nurse bustled in saying, "Now, my poppets. Like to come and see the King and all the court setting out on the hunting? Such a pretty sight!" They lost no time in rushing out past her and climbing down the first staircase they came to. The noise of hounds and horns and giant voices guided them, so that in a few minutes they reached the courtyard. The giants were all on foot, for there are no giant horses in that part of the world, and the giants' hunting is done on foot; like beagling in England. The hounds were also of normal size. When Jill saw that there were no horses she was at first dreadfully disappointed, for she felt sure that the great fat Queen would never go after hounds on foot; and it would never do to have her about the house all day. But then she saw the Queen in a kind of litter supported on the shoulders of six young giants. The silly old creature was all got up in green and had a horn at her side. Twenty or thirty giants, including the King, were assembled, ready for the sport, all talking and laughing fit to deafen you: and down below, nearer Jill's level, there were wagging tails, and barking, and loose, slobbery mouths and noses of dogs thrust into your hand. Puddleglum was just beginning to strike what he thought a gay and gamesome attitude (which might have spoiled everything if it had been noticed) when Jill put on her most attractively childish smile, rushed across to the Queen's litter and shouted up to the Queen. "Oh, please! You're not going away, are you? You will come back?" "Yes, my dear," said the Queen. "I'll be back tonight." "Oh, good. How lovely!" said Jill. "And we may come to the feast tomorrow night, mayn't we? We're so longing for tomorrow night! And we do love being here. And while you're out, we may run over the whole castle and see everything, mayn't we? Do say yes." The Queen did say yes, but the laughter of all the courtiers nearly drowned her voice.