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fourthwingfan · 6 months ago

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Madness - Chapter 19

Surpriiisee. I'm done with the next chapter.

And thank you, you are all so supportive. ❤️

Enjoy! :)

In response to the Great War, dragons claimed the western lands and gryphons the central ones, abandoning the Barrens and the memory of General Daramor, who nearly destroyed the Continent with his army. Our allies sailed home and we began a period of peace and prosperity as the provinces of Navarre united for the first time behind the safety of our wards, under the protection of the first bonded riders.

—Navarre, an Unedited History by Colonel Lewis Markham

What. The. Hell.

It’s as if everyone in the room has turned to stone, but I know that can’t be true. I can see Violet as she moves away from the guy who holds her. I can feel the guy’s warm hand in my hair, his skin malleable under my fingers as I shove his hand away from me.

And…I just stand there. What the hell?!

„Quickly, we need to move!” I wince at Vi’s hoarse voice as she breaks the silence.

Complete, unearthly silence.

The clock on the desk isn’t tickin. No one breathes. Their gazes are frozen. To the left, the woman I sliced open is hunched over, and the man I stabbed is leaned against the wall on the right, staring in horror at his thigh.

I mark time in thunderous heartbeats as we stumble into the only open space in the room, but our path to the now-open door isn’t clear.

Xaden fills the doorway like some kind of dark, avenging angel, the messenger of the queen of the gods. He’s fully dressed, his face a mask of veritable rage as shadows curl from the walls on either side of him, hanging in midair.

For the first time since crossing the parapet, I’m so fucking relieved to see him that I could cry.

Violet gasps beside me – and chaos resumes.

„It’s about damned time.” Aon rumbles.

Xaden’s gaze snaps to mine, his onyx eyes flaring in shock for no longer than a millisecond before he strides forward, his shadows streaming before him as he stands at our side. He snaps his fingers and the room illuminates, mage lights hovering above us.

“You’re all fucking dead.” His voice is eerily calm and all the scarier for it.

Every head in the room turns.

“Riorson!” The man’s dagger clatters to the floor who held Violet.

“You think surrendering will save you?” Xaden’s lethally soft tone sends goose bumps up my arms. “It is against our code to attack another rider in their sleep.”

“But you know he never should have bonded her!” He puts his hands up, his palms facing us. “You of all people have reason enough to want the weakling dead. We’re just correcting a mistake.”

“Dragons don’t make mistakes.” Xaden’s shadows grab every assailant but that man by the throat, then constrict. They struggle, but it doesn’t matter. Their faces turn purple, the shadows holding tight as they sag to their knees, falling in an arc in front of me like lifeless puppets.

I can’t find it in my heart to pity them.

Xaden prowls forward as though he has all the time in the world and holds out his palm as yet another tendril of darkness lifts a discarded dagger from the floor.

“Let me explain.” The man eyes the dagger, and his hands tremble.

“I’ve heard everything I need to hear.” Xaden’s fingers curl around the hilt. “She should have killed, but she’s merciful. That’s not a flaw I possess.” He slashes forward so quickly that I barely catch the move, and his throat opens in a horizontal line, blood streaming down his neck and chest in a torrent.

He grabs for his throat, but it’s useless. He bleeds out in seconds, crumpling to the floor. A crimson puddle grows around him.

“Damn, Xaden.” Garrick walks in, sheathing his sword as his gaze rakes over the room. “No time for questioning?” His glance sweeps to us as if cataloging injuries, catching on my bloodied face.

“No need for it,” Xaden counters as Bodhi enters, doing the same quick assessment Garrick had. The similarity between the cousins still gives me pause. Bodhi has the same bronzed skin and strong brow line, but his features aren’t as angular as Xaden’s, and his eyes are a lighter shade of brown. He looks like a softer, more approachable version of his older cousin, but my body doesn’t heat at the sight of him the way it does around Xaden.

An illogical laugh bubbles up through Violet’s lips, and all three men look at her like she’ve hit her head.

“Let me guess,” Bodhi says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re on cleanup?”

“Call in help if you need it,” Xaden answers with a nod.

„Are you okay Vi?” I turn to her and gently grab her arms.

Oh my god. I have a terrible nasal voice. If that man wasn’t already dead I would kill him for breaking my nose.

„I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.” She repeats it again and again.

„Yes. You’re alive.” Xaden says as he steps over the bodies toward Violet’s armoire with her daggers in his hand.

Garrick and Bodhi haul out the first bodies.

„I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.” She says and starts shaking like a leaf.

„It’s the shock.” I say gently and move her toward her chair. „Sit. It’ll be better, just breathe.”

„Are you hurt?” Xaden asks while whipping Violet’s cloak from its hook and retrieving a pair of boots. His words are clipped.

Silence.

“Come on, Violence.” His cajoling words are at odds with his terse tone as he folds the cloak over his arm and brings the boots through the remaining bodies he’s left on the floor. “Pull your shit together and tell me where you’re hurt.”

That nickname again.

“You’re breathing like crap, so I’m guessing it has to do with—”

“My ribs,” she finishes before he can guess. “The one by the bed hit the side of my ribs with the sword, but I think they’re just bruised.”

“Must have been a dull sword.” He cocks a dark eyebrow. “Unless it has something to do with why both of you sleep in your leather vest.”

“Trust him,” Aon demands.

“I have trust issues if you couldn’t tell. It’s not that easy.”

“It has to be for now. And I burn him alive if he ever hurts you.”

“It’s dragon-scale.” I say and move so that the light shines on it. “Mira made it for us.”

He glances between our bodies, his mouth tensing before he nods once.

„And you, Sunshine?” He asks before moving in front of me. „That’s a lot of blood.”

„Yeah, well not all of it is mine,” I shrug. „And maybe I pissed one of them off a bit, and he broke my nose.”

„You and your big mouth, Sunshine.” He sighs in exasperation.

Before I can argue that point, his gaze shifts to my face and narrows at what I imagine has to be incipient brusing. “I should have killed him slower.”

„And your ribs? He hit you really hard.” Violet asks from her seat.

„Sunshine?” Xaden asks with a raised eyebrow.

I sigh. Fine. „It hurts a little but my face is worse than that. Not worth mentioning.”

“Never lie to me.” He says it with such ferocity, bit out through gritted teeth.

„I would promise, but there are secrets I can’t tell you.” I whisper and I can hear the sadness in my voice. „Sometimes I have to put my life first. Secrets can kill you in the wrong hands.”

He looks at me with an indecipherable look, then nods.

„Then be honest with me when you can.” He says quietly and his gazes softens.

My heart flutters.

“My nose hurts, and my ribs too.” I admit.

“Let me see.” I open and shut my mouth twice. I don’t know what to say and I simply nod. I’m tired of arguing. I let him do what he wants. At least tonight I don’t have to control everything.

Two other men walk in through the open door, Garrick and Bodhi following closely after. They’re all…dressed. Fully clothed at—I glance at the clock—two a.m.

“Take those two, and we’ll get the last ones,” Garrick orders, and the others get to work, carrying the last of the bodies out through the door. I can’t help but notice they all have rebellion relics shimmering up their arms, but I keep the observation to myself.

“Thank you,” Xaden says, then flicks his hand and the door shuts with a soft click. “Now, let me see your injuries. We’re wasting time.” He turns to Violet. „And you… go and get dressed.”

She must be quite shaken up because with a glance at me she goes to her armoire and does as he said.

I swallow, then nod.

He cradles my face in his hands and tilts my head to observe my face. I flinch when he lightly touch my nose.

„Sorry, Sunshine. But it’s not that bad.” He slowly drops his hand. „Nolon can mend it in the morning. Now let me see your ribs.”

I sigh. Better to know now if they’re broken anyway. I turn my back on him, but I can see his face in the full-length mirror. “You’ll have to—”

“I know how to handle a corset.” His jaw flexes once, and something that reminds me of raw hunger flitters across his expression before he locks it down, drawing my hair over my shoulder with surprising gentleness.

His fingers skim my bare skin and I suppress a shiver, locking my muscles so I don’t arch into his touch.

What the hell is wrong with me? There’s still blood on the floor, on me and yet my breaths are tight for the entirely wrong reason as he makes quick work of the laces, starting at the bottom. He wasn’t lying. He absolutely knows his way around a corset.

“How the hell do you get yourself into this thing every morning?” he asks, clearing his throat as inch after inch of my back is exposed.

“I’m freakishly flexible.” I answer over my shoulder and laugh at him. Our eyes meet, and warmth flutters through my stomach. The moment is gone as quickly as it came, and he pulls my armor apart, inspecting my right side. Gentle fingers stroke over the abused ribs, then prod carefully. Then he repeats it on the other side.

“You have one hell of a bruise, but I don’t think they’re broken.”

“That’s what I thought. Thank you for checking.” It should be awkward, but somehow it isn’t, even as he laces me back up, securing the ends.

“You’ll live.” He says as I turn around to face him.

„I’m ready. Where are we going?” Violet asks, and I can feel myself blushing.

Oh my god. She saw it all.

„Well… I should go and get dressed to. I’m not exactly decent.” I look at my corset and short.

„We don’t have time.” Xaden shakes his head. „Here, put it on.” He says as he shrugs off his flight jacket and gives it to me.

Without a word I take it from him.

“Let’s go.” He helps me put it on, like I’m something precious. Now I know I’m hallucinating it because I’m anything but precious to Xaden Riorson. He grasps my hand and tugs me into the hallway, Violet following us. His fingers are strong as they curl around mine, his grip firm but not too tight.

He gave me his jacket. It’s huge, and it has such a nice smell. It’s his scent. Mint and leather.

Every other door is shut. The attack wasn’t even loud enough to rouse the neighbors. We’d be dead by now if Xaden hadn’t shown up, even if we managed to get out of their hold. But how did that happen?

“Where are we going?” The hallways are dimly lit by blue mage lights, the kind that signal it’s still night for those without windows.

“Keep talking loud enough for others to hear, and someone will stop us before we get anywhere.”

“Can’t you just hide us in shadows or something?” Violet asks.

“Sure, because a giant black cloud moving down the hallway isn’t going to look more suspicious than a couple sneaking around, and you’re so small Violet, that nobody will notice you if you stay behind us.” He shoots us a look that keeps us from countering.

Point taken.

Not that we’re a couple.

Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances. I cringe as we make it to the main hallway of the dormitory. There will never, ever be a right set of circumstances when it comes to him.

But in my defense, and in a sick, twisted way, his rescue was pretty damned hot, even if he is hauling me down the hallway at an untenable speed. Even if he only did it because Violet’s life is tied to his. My chest screams for a break, but there’s none to be found as he leads us past the spiral staircase that leads up to the second- and third-year dorms and into the rotunda.

Our boots against the marble floor are the only sounds as we pass into the academic wing. Instead of turning left, toward the sparring gym, he takes us right, down a set of stairs that I know leads to storage.

Halfway down the steps, he pauses, and I nearly run into the sword strapped to his back. Then he gestures with his right hand, keeping mine in his left.

Click. Xaden pushes on the stones and a hidden door swings open.

“Holy shit,” I whisper at the expansive tunnel revealed before us.

“Hope you’re not afraid of the dark.” He pulls me inside, and suffocating darkness envelops us as the door closes.

This is fine. This is absolutely fine. Just breathe.

“But just in case you are,” Xaden says, his voice at full volume as he snaps. A mage light hovers above our head, illuminating our surroundings.

“Thanks.” The tunnel is supported by arches of stone and the floor is smooth, as though it’s been traveled more than its entrance lets on. It smells like earth but isn’t dank, and it goes on for what seems like an eternity.

He drops my hand and starts walking. “Keep up.”

“You could—” Violet winces. “Be a little more considerate.” We trudge after him.

“I’m not going to baby you like Aetos does,” he says without turning around. “That’s only going to get you killed once we get out of Basgiath.”

“He doesn’t baby me.”

“He does and you know it. You hate it, too, if the vibe I’m picking up on is any indication.” He falls back to walk at our side. “Or did I read that wrong?”

“He thinks this place is too dangerous for someone…like me, and after what just happened, I’m not sure I can really argue with him. I was asleep. That’s the only time we’re supposed to be guaranteed safety around here. I don’t think I’ll bother sleeping again.” she shoots a look sideways at his profile. “And if you even think about suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from now on—”

He scoffs. “Hardly. I don’t fuck first-years—even when I was one—let alone…you.”

Ouch. There goes my fantasies. I’m a first-year after all. But deep in my heart I’m glad, that he is not attracted to Violet.

“Who said anything about fucking?” She fires back. “I’d have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I’m not.”

“Masochist, huh?” A corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk.

“You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.” A smile curves on her lips. “Unless you’re worried about me killing you while we sleep.” We round a corner, and the tunnel continues.

“I have zero concern about that. As violent as you are, and skilled with those daggers, I’m not even sure you could kill a fly. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you managed to wound them and never went for a kill shot.” He shoots a disapproving look her way.

“I’ve never killed anyone,” She whispers like it’s a secret.

“You’re going to have to get over that. All we are after graduation are weapons, and it’s best if we’re honed before leaving the gates.”

„That’s enough, both of you. You argue like children.” I roll my eyes. “Is that where we’re going? Are we leaving the gates?” I ask Xaden. I’ve lost all sense of direction in here.

“We’re going to ask Tairn what the hell just happened.” Xaden’s jaw flexes. “And I’m not talking about the attack. How the hell did they get past the locks?”

Violet shrugs but doesn’t explain.

“We’d better figure it out so it doesn’t happen again. I refuse to sleep on your fucking floor like some kind of guard dog.”

“Wait. This is another way to the flight field?” I do my best to mentally wall off the pain in my face. “Will you be there too?” I ask Aon.

“Naturally.”

“Are you going to tell me what that was in there?”

“I would if I knew.”

“Yes,” Xaden says, and the path curves again. “It’s not exactly common knowledge. And I’m going to ask you to tuck this little tunnel into the file of secrets you keep on my behalf.”

“Let me guess, and you’ll know if I tell?”

“Yes.” Another smirk appears, and I look away before he can catch me staring.

“Are you going to promise us another favor?” Violet asks. The path begins to climb, and the ascent is anything but gentle. Every breath reminds me of what happened less than an hour ago.

“Having one of my favors is more than enough, and we’ve already reached mutually assured destruction status, Sorrengail. Now, can you push through it, or do you need me to carry you?”

“That sounds like an insult, not an offer.”

“You’re catching on.” But his pace slows to match ours.

“What were you doing tonight anyway?” I ask curiously.

“What makes you ask?” His tone clearly insinuates that I shouldn’t. Too bad.

“You made it to Violet’s room within minutes, and you’re not exactly dressed for sleeping.” He’s strapped with a sword for crying out loud.

“Maybe I sleep in my armor, too.”

“Then you should pick more trustworthy bedmates.”

He snorts, a flash of a smile appearing for a heartbeat. A real one. Not the fake, forced sneer I’m used to seeing or the cocky little smirk. An honest, heart- stopping smile that I’m anything but immune to. It’s gone as fast as it appears, though.

“So you’re not going to tell me?” I ask. I’d be frustrated if I didn’t hurt so damned much. And I’m not even going to touch why he needed to haul us all the way to Tairn when obviously Violet can chat with him anytime she wants.

Unless he wants to talk to Tairn, which is…ballsy.

“Nope. Third-year business.” He lets go when we reach the stonewalled end of the tunnel. A few hand gestures and another click sounds before he pushes open the door.

We step out into crisp, freezingly cold November air.

“What the hell,” I whisper. The door is built into a stack of boulders on the eastern side of the field.

“It’s camouflaged.” Xaden waves a hand and the door closes, blending into the rock as if it’s a part of it.

There’s a sound I now recognize as the steady beat of wings, and I look up to see the four dragons block out the stars as they descend. The earth shudders as they land in front of us.

Tairn steps forward and Sgaeyl follows, her wings tucked in tight, her golden eyes narrowing on me.

„What have I done?” I ask Aon.

He stands next to Sgaeyl and snaps at her.

„Do not worry about it, little one. She’s always so grumpy.”

I try to disguise my laughter as a cough.

Andarna scurries between Sgaeyl’s claws, galloping toward us. She skids the last dozen feet, paws digging into the ground to stop just in front of Violet, bringing her nose to her ribs.

„What’s so funny?” Xaden looks at me.

„Aon. He said Sgaeyl is always grumpy. But so is he.” I smile at Aon. „They siblings after all.”

Sgaeyl turns her head and shots a menacing look toward Aon, before she lowers her head and stares at me.

She’s so close. I have never been so close to another dragon. But I keep eye contact with her. I’m not weak.

She huffs a breath in… approval?

“No broken bones,” I hear Violet, as she strokes her hand over the bumpy ridges of Andarna’s head. “They’re just bruised.”

“As sure as I can be.” She forces a smile.

“Yes, I want a word. What the hell kind of powers are you channeling to her?” Xaden demands, staring up at Tairn like he isn’t…Tairn.

Yep. Ballsy. Every muscle in my body locks, sure that Tairn is about to torch Xaden for impudence.

“He says—” Violet starts.

“I heard him,” Xaden counters, not sparing her a glance.

“You what?” My eyebrows hit my hairline, and Andarna retreats to stand with the others. Dragons only talk to their riders. That’s what I’ve always been taught.

“It’s absolutely my business when you expect me to protect her,” Xaden retorts, his voice rising.

Tairn’s head swivels in that snakelike motion that puts me on alert. He’s more than agitated.

“And I barely made it.” The words come out clipped through clenched teeth. “They would have been dead if I’d been thirty seconds later.”

Tairn’s chest rumbles with a growl.

“And I’d like to know what the fuck happened in there!”

I inhale sharply. „Xaden!” I shout and grab his arm. „Do you want to get yourself killed?”

I’ve never seen someone so much as dare to speak to another rider’s dragon, yet alone yell at one, especially not one as powerful as Tairn.

„Let him go. If Tairn wants to kill him, let him do it. I don’t want to look for another rider.” Aon steps closer to us.

„I knew that you love me.” I wink at him. „But I can’t watch it. All four are connected to each other. And Violet is important to me.”

„Just her?”

“We need to know what happened in that room.” Xaden’s dark gaze cuts through me like a knife for a millisecond before he glares back at Tairn.

Tairn’s mouth opens, his tongue curling in a motion I know all too well.

I pull on Xaden’s arm and I step in front of him.

„I’m so sorry that he’s rude to you, Tairn.” I say in my most polite voice. „He’s just a little freaked out. Don’t scorch him, please.”

In awe, Violet blinks up at the navy-blue daggertail as Xaden moves to my side. “She talked to me.”

“I know. I heard.” He folds his arms across his chest. “It’s because they’re mates. It’s the same reason I’m chained to you.”

What? They can…talk to each other? My chest hurts. Theoretically I knew it that they have a connection, but hearing it… it hurts.

I step away from them and I go over to Aon.

„Why am I here?” I ask him. „I mean I can’t hear half of the discussion.”

„I wanted to see you, to know that you’re all right.” He lowers his head and nudges me with his nose. „And unfortunately it seems the wingleader cares about you.”

„What? How do you know that?” I ask as I pet his nose.

„Sgaeyl likes to gossip. Now concentrate on the conversation, little one.”

I look at him in disbelief, but I nod and walk back to the others.

“You make it sound so pleasant.”

“It’s not.” Xaden turns to face Violet. “But you and I are exactly that, Violence. We’re chained. Tethered. You die, I die, so I damn well deserve to know how the hell you were under that man’s knife one second and across the room in another. Is that the signet power you’ve manifested with Tairn? Come clean. Now.” His eyes bore into her.

“I don’t know what happened,” She answers honestly.

Violet pivots to face the golden dragon, repeating what she said to us. „Nature likes all things in balance, that’s the first thing we’re taught.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Xaden asks Violet, not her.

Guess that means he can hear Tairn, but not Andarna.

“Feathertails shouldn’t bond because they can accidentally gift their powers to humans,” Violet continues. “Dragons can’t channel—not really—until we’re…they’re big, but they’re all born with something special.”

She relays the message. “Like a signet?” She asks out loud so Xaden and I can hear.

“Sgaeyl said, that no,” Aon tells me. “A signet is a combination of our power with your own ability to channel. It reflects who you are at the core of your being.”

Andarna sits up and tilts her head proudly.

“But I gave my gift directly to you. Because I’m still a feathertail.” Violet repeats again, staring at the smaller dragon. Almost nothing is known about feathertails because they’re never seen outside the Vale.

They’re guarded. They’re… I swallow. Wait. What did she say?

“You’re still a feathertail?” I look at Andarna in desbelief.

She blinks slowly and then cracks a yawn, her forked tail curling.

“You’re…you’re a hatchling,” Violet whispers.

Oh. Gods.

“She’s a what?” Xaden’s gaze swings between Andarna and Violet.

“How much faster?” Violet gasps. “She’s two years old!”

Sgaeyl chuffs at Andarna in obvious disapproval.

What an interesting conversation. I can’t hear half of what they say. Whatever, I will ask Vi later.

“Hold on. Is Andarna yours?” Xaden walks a step toward Sgaeyl, and the tone in his voice is one I’ve never heard. He’s…hurt. “Have you hidden a hatchling away from me these last two years?”

Sgaeyl blows out a blast of air that ruffles Xaden’s hair.

I look at Aon questioningly.

„Her parents passed before hatching.” He answers.

Tairn grumbles.

“Unpredictable?” Xaden questions.

“Gods, no. I could barely control it as a first-year.” Xaden shakes his head.

It’s odd to imagine Xaden ever not being in control.

“I would never!” Violet shakes her head.

Andarna’s head flops against Tairn’s leg. How could I not see it before now? Her rounded eyes, her paws…

“Of course, you wouldn’t know. Feathertails aren’t supposed to be seen,” Aon says.

“If leadership knew riders could take her gifts for themselves, rather than depending on their own signets…” Xaden says, staring at Andarna as she blinks slower and slower.

“She’d be hunted,” Violet finishes quietly.

“I won’t,” Violet promises as she looks toward the dragons. “Andarna, thank you. Whatever you did saved our lives.”

Her mouth drops open into another jaw-cracking yawn.

Violet stares at her and wobbles.

“What did she say?” Xaden asks her.

Tarin grumbles.

“Tell me what she said. Please.” His mouth tightens and I know that last bit cost him.

“She can pause time,” She forces out, stumbling over her words. “Briefly.”

Xaden’s features slacken, and for the first time, he doesn’t look like the stalwart, lethal wingleader I met on the parapet. He’s flat-out shocked as his gaze swings to Andarna. “You can stop time?”

“In small increments,” Vi whispers.

“In small increments,” Xaden echoes slowly, like he’s absorbing the information.

“And if I use it too much, I can kill you,” Violet says softly to Andarna.

Silence, then Violet breaks it.

“Is Professor Carr going to kill me, too?” Every gaze whips toward Violet.

“Why would you think that?” I ask her with concern.

“He killed Jeremiah.” She says in a trembling voice. “You saw him snap his neck like a twig right in front of the whole quadrant.”

“Jeremiah was an inntinnsic.” Xaden’s voice lowers. “A mind reader is a capital offense. You know that.”

“And what are they going to do if they find out I can stop time?”

Terror freezes the blood in my veins. “They’re not going to find out,” I promise her.

“No one is going to tell them. Not you. Not me. Not Aelin. Not them.” Xaden motions with one hand toward our dragons. “Understand?”

„Be safe, little one.” Aon says as they all bend slightly, then launch, wind gusting against my face. Andarna struggles, her wings beating twice as hard, and Tairn flies up underneath her, taking her weight and continuing on to the Vale.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about the time-stopping,” Xaden asks Violet as we head back into the tunnel, but it feels an awful lot like a command. “It’s not just for your safety. Rare abilities, when kept secret, are the most valuable form of currency we possess.”

My brow furrows as I study the stark lines of the rebellion relic that winds up his neck, marking him as a traitor’s son, warning everyone that he’s not to be trusted. But so far he has proven to be more reliable than my own father.

“We need to figure out how unbonded cadets got in your room,” Xaden says.

“There was a rider there,” Violet tells us. “Someone who ran away before Aelin arrived. She must have unlocked it from the outside.”

“Who?” I halt, taking her elbow gently and turning her toward us.

She shakes her head.

“At some point, you and I are going to have to start trusting each other, Sorrengail. The rest of our lives depend on it.” Fury swims in Xaden’s eyes. “Now tell me who.”

„Tell us, Vi. You know I will always believe you.” I say softly. „Who else was there?”

#fourth wing #fanfiction #fourth wing fanfic #the fourth wing #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #oc #the empyrean #xaden x oc #xaden riorson x oc #tairn #sgaeyl #dragons #andarna #madness

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artyandink · 7 months ago

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Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

one - green lights and red stains

TWO MONTHS EARLIER:

I was at my desk in Big Sky Country, Montana’s sheriff’s department, papers strewn over the desk in a similar fashion as they were at home. Making small mountains and also making me rather sympathetic for the trees who suffered just to have me keep ‘em all like this on another plank of wood on more sticks of wood. However, I couldn’t bring myself to clean them, not today. As well as that, the acting sheriff had made his speech today, and I knew if he’d talk to me, I wouldn’t make a great impression, not with all this mess.

“Ain’t this a sight?” I looked up to see none other than Sheriff Arlen, standing in front of me, his stance wide set as he peered at my scribblings which varied between neat and scrawling handwriting. I jolted a little, panic striking through me as I began to shuffle my files into a more orderly pile, but he held out his hand to put me at ease. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Truth be told, I’m not the most organised either.”

In response, I stood up laughing a bit as I ran my hand through my hair, the action not as smooth and easygoing as I hoped as my index encountered a knot in my raven hair which I quickly untangled. “Well, I’m afraid this is what you’ll be seein’ every day.” I gestured down in circular motions to the messy piles.

“Then I’m lookin’ forward to it.” He put out his hand with a broad grin, green eyes twinkling along with his startlingly white teeth. He had an air of giddy charm and confidence around him that I couldn’t help but crack a smile to. “Beau Arlen.”

“Isabelle Joyner.” I replied, shaking his hand firmly. His grip was strong, but comforting in a sense.

“Well, darlin’, I’ve heard some good things about you from Jenny Hoyt, or Hoyt, as she wants me to call her.” Beau chuckled at the thought, glancing towards Jenny, who was in conversation with Poppernak. “She’s a real firecracker.”

“That’s Jenny for you.” I smiled, nodding resignedly and also flicking my eyes to her. “She knows me better than anyone; we’ve been best friends for as long as I remember.” Then I spotted the uncertainty in his eyes as he once more looked at Jenny, and I laughed a bit. “She’ll warm up to you. She’s just a bit miffed, y’know, didn’t get put as acting Sheriff.”

“I learnt that the easy way and the hard way.” He snickered slightly, his shoulders shrugging. “Well, it’s a lesson well learnt.”

“Damn straight.” I grinned, putting my hands in my pockets, and we fell silent for a moment before it got a bit uncomfortable. “Anyway, welcome to Big Sky. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

“I goddamn hope so.”

NOW:

“Liv, sweetie?” I called up the stairs, my eyes darting back to the pancake cooking on the stove. It was half past eight in the morning, and I needed to get Olivia, my niece, to her stepfather’s house. Her mother - my sister - had been… lost. In a murder, six years back, but they’d never found who’d done it. In her will, she’d given custody of Olivia to me, that the court had approved. Her stepfather, Markham, was not happy, but there was little he could do.

“Yeah?” Came her sleepy voice from upstairs, making me laugh quietly. She’d grown so much since I got her as a timid nine year old. Now she was sixteen in a week and the most beautiful girl I’d ever see. She was my baby girl at this point, and I couldn’t be prouder.

“I’ve got work, hon, and I’m makin’ pancakes!” I heard a brief pause, then a scramble to get up. I smiled knowingly, returning to the pancake as the thunder of footsteps down the stairs signalled her arrival. Her blonde hair bounced in stunning curls and her brown eyes flashed excitedly, even though they were riddled with sleep. I passed her a plate of pancakes stacked up, shaking the whipped cream. “Mornin’, gumdrop.” I grinned cheerily. “What would you like on your pancakes, hm?”

“Whipped cream, syrup, and raspberries.” She replied instantly, then returned my smile. “And good morning, auntie.” Olivia gave me a bear hug, which I returned gladly, kissing her hair before letting her go with a pat on the back.

“Good choice.” I squirmed the whipped cream in a circle, grabbing the syrup bottle and drizzling it generously before passing her a bowl of freshly washed raspberries so she could knock herself out, also sliding her a fork and knife. “Dig in.”

“Hello, there!” I heard Jenny call, the door opening. Jenny and Cassie walked in with big smiles on their faces, especially so when they found the combination of Olivia and pancakes. “Hope you don’t mind, we just used the spare key under the deco rock.”

“And I’m glad we did, because why weren’t we invited to the party?” Cassie faux-gasped as she gestured to the pancakes.

“Elle, explain yourself.” Jenny chastised, raising an eyebrow at me, but when I passed them each a plate of pancakes, they melted. “Ok, no explanation needed.”

“Yep, we’re all good now, no beef here.” Cassie agreed, dolloping whipped cream on hers before passing the canister to Jenny. “Also, hi, Olivia.”

“Hey, Cassie.” Liv waved with a smile and a mouthful of pancake. “Hi, Jenny.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Jenny grinned, waving before digging into the pancakes.

“Never knew I’d be catering for four today.” I chuckled, turning off the stove and embellishing my own plate of pancakes, making it even more of a sugar rush than it already was.

“Well, now we get to boast to Beau about what we got cooked.” She replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s always returnin’ with clean dishes of what Denise cooked, so I guess we could clap back a little.”

“His favourite deputy cooked us pancakes and not him.” Cassie giggled, making me roll my eyes. These two.

“Shut up. Both of you.” I snickered, trying to remain stern. “If Sheriff Arlen wants pancakes, he can come over and I can make him some pancakes, it’s not exclusive.”

“And here I thought we were special.”

“Aw, hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“She did.” Olivia giggled.

“Yeah, she did.” Jenny gave me a look before we all burst out into laughter. We spent a bit of time chatting as we finished our pancakes, telling Olivia the ups and downs of our latest solved case and what movie we wanted for movie night this week. When we were done, I picked up my keys, jangling them.

“Olivia, time to go.” I smiled, but Cassie put her hand on my arm with a smile.

“I’ll drop her off.” She chuckled, holding up her own keys. “I know where Mark lives, and it’s on my way.

“You’re not exactly the most civil with the guy.”

“That’s cause he’s an ass, but I’ll try my best.”

We engaged in a staring contest for five seconds, until I gave in, nodding in defeat. “Fine. But if I get a call from my brother in law-”

“You won’t!” She raised her hands in surrender. “I promise. Now, you and Jenny need to get to work before Beau rings you up.”

“God forbid he does.” I joked.

“C’mon, he hasn’t had the heart to tell you off after you found the hostages a few weeks ago, one of them happening to be his daughter. Another Darlene.” Jenny teased, nudging me playfully.

“You two are really keen on setting us up, hm?” I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head. “You know I’m not that keen on dating. Not after…” I trailed off with a frown. It was a sore memory, one that ended with me waking up at the bar with five empty shot glasses and a bill with far more drinks than I’d usually take.

“After Harry.” She sighed, patting my shoulder. “He wasn’t your fault. After all, he did the deed.”

“He doesn’t know what he lost.” Cassie added sympathetically. “The ass.”

“I wanna kick him in the nuts.” Olivia added, making us all raise an eyebrow.

“That’s fair.”

“And on all of our minds.” Jenny grinned.

“I can’t even be mad.” I sighed, then kissed Olivia’s forehead. “Be good, ok? If I get a good report, I’ll make you an ice cream sundae tonight.” As Cassie and Jenny opened their mouths to speak, I held up a finger. “You guys get one too.”

I walked into the sheriff’s department with Jenny, and the first person we saw was Beau Arlen himself. “Well, ain’t it my favourite deputies?” He sauntered over with that charming grin of his, looking between us. “Hoyt.”

“Beau.” Jenny smiled.

“Sheriff.” I chuckled, running my hand through my hair.

“C’mon, Belle, call me Beau.” Beau chuckled, gesturing to himself. “No formalities here.” The statement made me laugh, but I shook my head, looking down at my feet before back up into those twinkly green eyes.

“I’ll try my best, Sheriff.” I teased with a grin, then took a sharp breath in, looking around. “Any cases today?”

“A missing person’s case.” Beau’s expression changed slightly as he mentioned it. “Little girl named Harriet Brown, she was out playing in the front yard, parents were arguin’, when they come out, girl’s gone.”

“My god.” I whispered, then cleared my throat. “We should get on the case, and quick.” I pouted slightly, sucking in air through my teeth. “Any leads? License plate? Footage? Maybe someone who has a grudge?”

“Closest to a match we have as an enemy is the girl’s stepfather, Will Brown. And by parents arguing, I mean the birth father and mother arguin’.”

“Stepfather, what, lays claim to the kid?” I asked, concerned. I knew what that was like all too well (and by that I mean the outskirts of those feelings), and if that was the case…

“Possibly. He’s the only recent frequent visitor.” Beau frowned at the look on my face, tilting his head a little in curiosity. “You look a lil’ green around the gills there, Deputy. You doin’ ok?”

I shared a look with Jenny, who subtly patted my wrist, signalling me to speak up. I jolted out of my thoughts, nodding and putting on a smile that I felt didn’t quite reach my eyes. “‘Course, Sheriff. I’m always ok.”

“You sure?”

“Deadly.”

Beau looked at me for a bit, trying to gauge my reaction, before nodding resignedly and patting me on the shoulder with a small smile. “A’ight. But if anythin’ comes to mind, do tell.”

“Gotcha.” I nodded, my blue eyes looking into his green ones. After I’d met Beau on his first day as acting sheriff, he’d understood me. He knew I was raising Olivia, albeit had never met her, and related to that with his own little girl. Emily was an angel, and I guess I became more of one after he found me getting along well with someone who was his world. As well as that, after the incident with Buck Barnes, I’d managed to find the hostages, including Darlene and Emily, getting them out.

Ever since then, it’s like he treats me as if I’m God’s gift to him. I was just doin’ my job.

I breathed in, then released a deep on through my mouth. “Let’s hit the house, Jen.”

“You got it, Elle.” Jenny smiled. I picked up my jacket, adjusting the photo of my sister and I on my desk as I put it on with a sad smile.

“I miss ya, Lucy. Truly.”

I was in Beau’s truck, the landscape flying by as we made our way to the Brown’s house. The atmosphere was uncomfortably silent - damn the awkwardness of social interactions sometimes - but somehow Beau made coping with silence look easier than it felt. He wore an easy smile, waffling on about fishing with a charmingly boyish look in his eyes that I’d come to recognise and find adorable.

“While I love talking and yapping about fish to the point your ears fall off, Belle, but, uh, don’t you wanna get that?” I was snapped out of my reverie, finding that my ringtone was playing with the name Dean flashing on my screen over the green circle of light representing the button to accept the call, which I’d gladly do.

“Oh! Yeah, that’s right.” My face lit up as I pressed the ‘accept’ button, bringing the phone to my ear. “Dean, hey!”

‘Isa, hi.’ I heard a cheery voice from the other end. This was Olivia’s birth father, Dean Barlowe, who I preferred in spades to Markham Leeds. I never understood why Lucy and Dean had split up in the first place, since Dean was the best father I’d ask for where Liv is concerned. We hadn’t had contact in months, but this was a pleasant surprise. ‘How’ve you been?’

“Oh, now I feel brilliant.” I laughed, looking out the window. “How about you? It’s been goddamn months, I’ve been dyin’ for a call.”

‘Well, I’m feeling great now too. It’s always nice to talk to you. A familiar face.’

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” I nodded with a happy sigh. “Are you holding up ok? After… Lucy? It’s been a while, but it hit you pretty hard too.”

‘Doing better, if that counts.’ I heard a pause on the other end. ‘Hey, do you think Liv would mind if I pop over for a visit in a week’s time?’

“For her birthday, right?”

‘Yeah. Mark wouldn’t be too mad, right?’

“Who gives a damn about Markham, just come over, ok?” I smiled, and I could practically hear his own relieved one on the other end of the line. “Liv’s gonna love the surprise, don’t you worry.”

‘You know exactly what to say to soothe my nerves, don’t you?’

“Hey, it’s nothin’. Just being a dutiful sister in law.” I saw an exit sign that said we were almost at the house, so I decided to wrap it up. “Hey, uh, Dean, I’m about to start working a case, so I’ll chat later.”

‘Ah, right. Thanks, Isa. Bye.’

“Bye.” I cut the call, and found Beau smirking at me, his eyebrow raised slightly. “What?”

“You seem real chummy with this Dean fella.” He snickered knowingly, but I shook my head rapidly.

“No, no, no. He’s my brother in law.”

“Wait, this is the ex-husband of your late sister?” Beau nodded approvingly. “By the way you’re talkin’ to him, he seems like he’s got his name written in your good books with sparkly gold ink. Unlike Mark.”

“Well, Mark’s an ass.”

“Markham is an ass.”

Beau, Jenny and I were flicking through the security tapes of the Brown house the day their little girl Harriet was kidnapped. “Look, there.” I pointed to the screen, where a man was approaching. “It’s our stepfather.”

“Damn straight.” Beau nodded, leaning forward to ID the guy’s face. “Yep, that’s him. And he just scooped the girl up gave her a lollipop and high-tailed it.”

“We need to get this girl back.” Jenny sighed, her expression pensive as she peered at the screen.

“We got an idea on where she could be taken?”

“Possibly his cabin. Witness accounts show that he’s been buyin’ a lot of bedding, more than you’d need.” I frowned, then stood up. “We need to bust this guy and fast.” I didn’t know exactly why, but this was pissing me off. A stepfather, kidnap his own stepdaughter.

“Let’s bust a crooked stepfather.” Jenny got up, and so did we, heading out the door, running to our cars as Jenny texted me the address, which I put into Beau’s GPS. We quickly got in, and Beau floored it.

“You seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?” He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.

“No, sir, I’m just concerned for the kid.” I answered not as smoothly as I’d hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldn’t do anything, not when I was named Olivia’s legal guardian and was Lucy’s next of kin.

“It’s about Mark, right?”

I chuckled lowly, nodding. “That obvious?”

“You’re like a mama bear in these cases.” He grinned, then patted my knee. “But now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff.” I smiled as we pulled up to the house. “Hear you loud and clear.” I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that he’d done the same. “Shall we?”

“We shall, darlin’.” We got out at the same time as Jenny, making our way across the front yard before I tried the handle of the door, finding it locked. I nodded to Beau, who reared up and kicked the door open, all of us putting up our guns as we stormed the house. Jenny went to check the kitchen and living room, Beau heading upstairs while I took the basement. I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. “It’s ok, sweetheart. As for you,” My eyes focused on the man, “Sheriff’s department, put your hands where I can see ‘em-” He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Hey, it’s-” I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, “it’s ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, you’re safe, ok?” I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. “Just calm down for me, my friends are coming.”

As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harriet’s kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. “Jesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, we’re gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!” Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harriet’s hair, not wanting her to get too scared.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @nancymcl @hobby27

Preview of Chapter Two

#beau arlen x oc #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen #beau #big sky #cassie dewell #jenny hoyt #beau arlen fanfic

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ottawacharge · 2 months ago

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hello pals! here is transcript ft photoshoot shots ‼️ @ohe-ohe @verb925

If Marie-Philip Poulin is the legend, Laura Stacey is the superstar. Where one is soft-spoken, reflective and intensely magnetic, the other is intuitive, forthcoming and absolutely electric. As they shatter records in their sport and lead change far beyond, these world-class athletes are writing a page of history, together.

At first, they fought it. Centralized in Calgary with the national team for months before being thrown into the pressure cooker in PyeongChang, Poulin was the seasoned captain and Stacey was vying for a spot on the roster for what would be her first Games. They shared teammates and friends and were apprehensive about upending the intricate and delicate alchemy it takes to win. They did everything they could to push their feelings out of their minds, all the while finding every way possible to spend time together. "There were so many emotions, and we just got very close during that time. It was a kind of snowball effect," Laura explains.

At the Olympics, Team Canada ultimately fell to the US to take home silver medals. Devastated, the pair parted ways. Laura went home to Toronto and Marie-Philip to Montréal. They didn't see each other and tried not to text. But hockey is a cyclical sport in which every ending yields a new beginning, so when the Canadian Women's Hockey League (CWHL) started up again in the fall, Poulin returned to Les Canadiennes de Montréal and Stacey to the Markham Thunder. "The first real moment was when we played against each other in Montréal," Stacey says. "We were still talking, and we knew there was something between us. After the game, she followed our team bus back from the rink, picked me up at the hotel and took me back to her apartment. Her parents were there, and I met them for the first time. It all felt really serious. When I asked her, she said she was done fighting it."

As it turns out, what came as somewhat of a surprise to Laura was anything but unexpected to Marie-Philip's mom, who'd understood the moment she saw her daughter look over at Laura at Canada House back in South Korea. A mother knows: Marie-Philip and Laura had found home.

At their next Olympics in Beijing in 2022, Team Canada triumphed, and Poulin cemented her legend by becoming the only player -- female or male -- to score in four straight Olympic gold medal games.

Marie-Philip Poulin is the greatest of all time, although she flashes a reluctant wince when she hears herself referred to as such. In her home province of Québec especially, she is a beloved, virtually untouchable figure. She is the quintessential sports hero -- wholly exceptional and genuinely approachable. Despite her countless appearances and endless interviews, she's always remained very discreet about her personal life, the furthest thing from a celesbian one would ever imagine. Only her most intimate circle (and perhaps her most avid fans) would have noticed two-time Olympic medallist and three-time world champion Laura Stacey flow seamlessly into her public life and crack open the window ever so slightly. But when they each posted sets of their idyllic engagement photos on Instagram in May 2023, their low-key romance made national headlines. "We just wanted to be ourselves, and we didn't realize how much of an impact the photos were going to have. They really blew up!" says Marie-Philip. Laura adds: " When we first posted we were engaged, people didn't even know we were together, so it hit us a little harder. But the way everyone has welcomed us is amazing. So many athletes feel uncomfortable coming out. For us, it happened organically. And there's so much positivity in the way everyone supports us."

That summer, Mark Walter Group and sports trailblazer Billie Jean King announced the establishment of the Professional Women's Hockey League (PWHL) and six charter franchises. For women's hockey players, it was the culmination of a dream after years of struggle. A month later, PWHL Montréal confirmed it had signed three-year deals with goaltender Ann-Renée Desbiens and forwards Marie-Philip Poulin and Laura Stacey. "I didn't want to sign and play in Montréal as a package deal because the team wanted to get her for sure," Stacey admits. And she made that very clear to the team's management. "The conversation went so well, but it was still scary for me because I knew I had something to prove." Since then, her intensity, heart, skill and dazzling plays have put any doubts to rest. "Looking back on these past few months, I can say it's been amazing."

When the puck dropped on the team's first-ever game on January 2, 2024, Laura scored her very first goal in the league and unintentionally went viral. It all happened in a split second: drive to the net, snipe, celly. The subsequent shot of her marking the moment with Marie-Philip, which became one of the most viewed photos from the PWHL, was swiftly reposted on X with the caption "score a goal and celly with your fiancé," prompting user MarcusA9393 to pointedly (read: homophobically) ask where the said fiancé was in the crowd since he "didn't see him behind the glass." Then came an impeccable reply that turned Marcus' mudslinging into an incandescent ray of sheer queer joy: "Her fiancée is #29 poulin. She's gay, Marcus."

The floodgates opened, and in no time there was a tidal wave of "She's gay, Marcus" bracelets, apparal of all sorts, stickers and fan art. Sellers started offering Stacey and Poulin's hockey cards as a pair. Did she realize her love would be the first person to throw herself in her arms? "No, we had no idea! It all went so fast. But what are the chances?" It was an instance that opened their eyes to the fact that there was a place for them as a couple and as professional hockey players. "We realized it was welcome. That respect for us together and as individuals has helped us open up a lot more. Our teammates, our coaching staff, our fans all support us. And Montréal has embraced us as a couple in a beautiful, crazy way," Stacey reflects. Her fiancée concurs: "At first, it felt like a lot after the engagement photos, but we took a step back and we saw we could connect with people. We quickly learned that it helps people be themselves. Fans are so happy to show us their bracelets and t-shirts and ask us to sign the photo. That connection happens because they feel they can be themselves around us. They cheer for us together, and that's very emotional for us."

Even so, there's a paradox, since they both make very conscious efforts to keep their hockey lives separate despite their matching collections of Olympic gold and silver medals and world championship titles. They don't have adjoining spaces in the dressing room; they don't room together on the road; they don't sit together when travelling with the team. Does that benefit them? The team? "That's actually something we take a lot of pride in," says Poulin. "When we get to the rink, we're there to work: to play hockey and win. There's a time and place for everything." Laura echoes the sentiment: "It's about respect for our teammates. When they're taping their stick and getting ready, they're not there for us as a couple. They want teammates who are ready to go to war with them. We're there to do the best job we can. If people want to spend time with us as a couple, they can come over for dinner."

Meanwhile at the rink, without getting deep into the the analytics, the sometimes linesmates ended the regular season tied as PWHL Montréal's highest scorers with 10 goals apiece (23 points for Poulin, 18 for Stacey) and proved to be a game-changing duo. But what happens when the puck isn't bouncing their way? "We didn't start on the same line, but we ended up playing together as time went on. That was a challenge," says Marie-Philip. "We're leaders on the team and we're very competitive so we want to be perfect. When one of us misses a play, we definitely take it out on the other." Laura nods emphatically and laughs: "Sometimes I tell her ' I can't make that play! You know who I am!', and she'll go 'No! You have to if you're playing with me!'" When asked if they're harder on each other than their other teammates, they reply "110%" in perfect synch.

On top of the ebbs and flows in their respective games, having to execute perfectly at critical junctures can take a toll. "There's a lot of pressure, and I feel it. It's on me, on her and on us," says Poulin. Her demeanour is unfailingly even keeled and, in many ways, true to the player she's shown herself to be in competition, naturally offsetting the challenges and perpetually rising above. "The fact that the pressure makes me stay on the ice and practice with my partner -- that we're always pushing each other -- just makes us better and more balanced players and people."

And what about the physicality of the women's game? While there's nothing that makes the game unsafe, there's a lot of jostling, body checking and contact along the boards. "When one of my teammates gets caught, I get fired up. But when it's Laura, my heart drops. I want to react and it's hard not to, but I can't," says Marie-Philip. Do they get chirped? "Oh yeah, for sure," Laura confirms, just as Marie Philip points out: "Less now."

In season, they're never apart. "We do everything together, but we like it," says Marie-Philip, who then turns her entire body towards Laura, reaches out to her and quietly asks with a smile: "You like it, right?" Laura beams at her and replies: "I love it." All captivating affinity aside, the fact remains that they constantly put their bodies on the line, and the grind can wear them down. Camps started in October and the hockey didn't stop until June. The many highs and upward trend of prepare, prepare, prepare was so physically demanding that there were times when all they could do was crash.

Having all eyes on them means they've learned when to ease up and when to zoom out. "We get on the bus together when everyone else is leaving their significant other. We travel the world together. We get to hear fans in Montréal cheer for us both together. We fight and push each other in the hard moments but when we get home, we close the door and realize how lucky and how happy we are," says Laura.

The talk eventually turns to April 20 at the Bell Centre in Montréal, when PWHL Montréal and PWHL Toronto set the world record for a women's hockey game in front of 21,105 fans. For the players and for so many in the crowd, the pregame introductions unfolded into a moving "I see you" moment. Under the lights and amidst tens of thousands of twirling white rally towels, the players stood at the blue line to finally take in the resounding ovation they'd earned and deserved. It was a powerful acknowledgement of their excellence, their hard work, their sacrifices and their fight. Their win was everyone's win, in hockey and far beyond. On the ice, Marie-Philip and Laura were standing side by side. "The sentiment that we all win together and the feeling of success cemented the fact that we're here to stay. It's so much more than a hockey league. It's a movement," Laura says. When Marie-Philip Poulin's name resonated in the arena, a deafening roar rose all the way up to the rafters: "It was all surreal. It was so loud, and I thought 'Wow, we did it.'"

But like all things, hockey careers -- even the most brilliant ones -- come to an end. With respect to their sport, they're both adamant about leaving it in a better place than they found it. At the same time, with their wedding only weeks away, Laura Stacey and Marie-Philip Poulin are just beginning to shape their family legacy, one whose reach is much broader than hockey and touches on representation, visibility, equality, diversity, women's rights, 2SLGBTQIA+ rights and human rights. It's something we tend to take stock of in retrospect, but they're writing their own page of history today. "We want people to have the same opportunities we've been given to be themselves and chase the dream of whatever it is they love," says Laura. That authenticity has become their hallmark. "W're always ourselves," says Marie-Philip. "People remember how you made them feel, not what you did. And that only happens when you're truly yourself."

#if anyone's curious and doesn't want to spoil themselves -- it's the poulin/stacey article below the cut!#i will say -- all the shots of laura have truly Knocked Me TF Out #the soft moment in the interview also killed me

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kimabutch · 1 year ago

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[ID: a series of graphics promoting the 100K March for Gaza on November 4 organized by the Palestine Youth Movement. The graphics show the Canadian cities where rallies will take place, along with specific times and locations. They are:

Toronto, ON - 2 PM @ US Consulate (360 University Ave)

Ottawa, ON - 2 PM @ Parliament Hill

Montreal, QC - 2 PM @ 175 St-Catherine St W

Nanaimo, BC - 2 PM @ Maffeo Sutton Park

Victoria, BC - 2 PM @ Legislative Assembly

Winnipeg, MB - 1 PM @ US Consulate

Fredericton, NB - 12 PM @ City Hall

St John’s, NL - 1:30 PM @ Harbourside Park

Halifax, NS - 2 PM @ Province House & 7 PM @ Park Victoria

Sydney, NS - 1 PM @ City Hall

Guelph, ON - 11 AM @ City Hall

Kingston, ON - 2 PM @ City Hall

London, ON - 11 AM @ City Hall

Thunder Bay, ON - 3 PM @ Hillcrest Park

Markham, ON - 2 PM @ Markham City Centre

Mississauga, ON - 4 PM @ Mississauga City Hall

Windsor, ON - 2 PM @ Sunset & University

Quebec City, QC - 2 PM @ Place De L'Universite Du Quebec

Whitehorse, YT - 2 PM @ Healing Totem Pole (Main & Front St)

Charlottetown, PEI - 2 PM @ Cenotaph

Calgary, AB - 12 PM @ Tompkins Park

Edmonton, AB - 2 PM @ Churchill Square

Regina, SK - 2:30 PM @ Royal Saskatchewan Museum

Saskatoon, SK - 2:30 PM @ City Hall

End ID.]

Tomorrow, the Palestinian Youth Movement issued a call to action to all supporters of Palestine in Canada to support the protestors who are going to be protesting in D.C. at the White House tomorrow. Here is the list of all the protests that have been confirmed for tomorrow. Remember to wear a mask or cover the lower half of your face with a kuffiyeh, to avoid detection by harassment and doxxing campaign orgs. Stay safe and spread the message.

#current events #desc #go if you can!

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faithnfrivolity · 4 months ago

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Like most so-called overnight successes, Vincent Anthony Guaraldi—(July 17, 1928 – February 6, 1976) who forever described himself as "a reformed boogie-woogie piano player"—worked hard for his big break.

The man eventually dubbed "Dr. Funk" by his compatriots was born in San Francisco on July 17, 1928; he graduated from Lincoln High School and then San Francisco State College. Guaraldi began performing while in college, haunting sessions at the Black Hawk and Jackson's Nook, sometimes with the Chubby Jackson / Bill Harris band, other times in combos with Sonny Criss and Bill Harris. He played weddings, high school concerts, and countless other small-potatoes gigs.

His first serious booking came at the Black Hawk, when he worked as an intermission pianist ... filling in for the legendary Art Tatum. "It was more than scary", Guaraldi later recalled. "I came close to giving up the instrument, and I wouldn't have been the first after working with Tatum". Guaraldi's first recorded work can be heard on "Vibratharpe", a 1953 release by the Cal Tjader. Guaraldi then avoided studios for the next few years, preferring to further hone his talents in the often unforgiving atmosphere of San Francisco's beatnik club scene. In 1955 he put together his own trio — longtime friend Eddie Duran on guitar, Dean Reilly on bass — and tackled North Beach's bohemian hungry i club. He also returned to studio work that year, making his recorded debut as group leader, although with different personnel: John Markham (drums), Eugene Wright (bass) and Jerry Dodgion (alto sax). What soon came to be recognized as the "Guaraldi sound", however, resulted from several recording sessions with his hungry i buddies. The original Vince Guaraldi Trio, with Duran and Reilly, can be heard on two releases: "The Vince Guaraldi Trio" (1956) and "A Flower is a Lonesome Thing" (1957)

The late 50s were a busy time. Aside from studio sessions with Conte Candoli (two albums), Frank Rosolino (one album), and Cal Tjader (at least ten albums), Guaraldi toured in 1956 with Woody Herman's third "Thundering Herd", replacing Nat Pierce on piano for one season. Not too much later, just after midnight during 1958's first annual Monterey Jazz Festival, some 6,000 rabid but by now quite tired jazz fans came to their feet when The Cal Tjader Quintet blew them away.

Thanks in no small part to the "sound of surprise" from the feisty Guaraldi, whose extended blues riffs literally had the crowd screaming for more, Tjader's quintet received an enthusiastic standing ovation.

National prominence was just around the corner. Inspired by the 1959 French/Portuguese film "Black Orpheus", Guaraldi hit the studio with a new trio — Monte Budwig on bass, Colin Bailey on drums — and recorded his own interpretations of Antonio Carlos Jobim's haunting soundtrack music. The 1962 album was called "Jazz Impression of Black Orpheus", and "Samba de Orpheus" was the first selection released as a single. Combing the album for a suitable B-side number, Guaraldi's producers finally ghettoized a modest original composition titled "Cast Your Fate to the Wind".

Fortunately, some enterprising Sacramento, California DJs turned the single over...

...and the rest is history.

"Cast Your Fate to the Wind" became a Gold Record winner and earned the 1963 Grammy as Best Instrumental Jazz Composition. It was constantly demanded during Guaraldi's club engagements, and suddenly jazz fans couldn't get enough of him. He responded with several albums during 1963 and '64, perhaps the most important of which was "Vince Guaraldi, Bola Sete, and Friends", with Fred Marshall (bass), Jerry Granelli (drums) and Brazilian guitarist Bola Sete. That marked the first of several collaborations with Sete, a musical collaboration whose whole was greater than the sum of its already quite talented parts.

Guaraldi was also a recognized fixture on television, if only in the greater San Francisco region. He and jazz critic Ralph Gleason documented the success of "Cast Your Fate to the Wind" in the three-part "Anatomy of a Hit", produced for San Francisco's KQED; later, shortly after his first album with Sete, Guaraldi did a "Jazz Casual" TV show for the same network

The most prestigious task, however, was yet to come. Even before Duke Ellington played San Francisco's Grace Cathedral, that venerable institution's Reverend Charles Gompertz selected Guaraldi to write a modern jazz setting for the choral Eucharist. The composer labored18 months with his trio and a 68-voice choir, and the result is an impressive blend of Latin influences, waltz tempos, and traditional jazz "supper music". It was performed live on May 21, 1965, and the album became another popular and critical hit. Clearly, if Vince Guaraldi could write music for God, he could pen tunes for Charlie Brown.

The jazz pianist's association with Charles Schulz's creations actually had begun the year before, when Guaraldi was hired to score the first Peanuts television special, adocumentary called "A Boy Named Charlie Brown" (not to be confused with the big-screen feature of the same title). The show brought together four remarkable talents: Schulz, writer/producer/director Lee Mendelson, artist Bill Melendez and Guaraldi.

Guaraldi's smooth trio compositions — piano, bass and drums — perfectly balanced Charlie Brown's kid-sized universe. Sprightly, puckish, and just as swiftly somber and poignant, these gentle jazz riffs established musical trademarks which, to this day, still prompt smiles of recognition.

They reflected the whimsical personality of a man affectionately known as a "pixie", an image Guaraldi did not discourage. He'd wear funny hats, wild mustaches, and display hairstyles from buzzed crewcuts to rock-star shags.

Unfortunately, with an irony that seemed appropriate for a documentary about Charlie Brown, Mendelson never was able to sell the show, which remains unseen to this day by the general public. Fortunately, the unaired program became an expensive calling-card that attracted a sponsor (Coca-Cola) intrigued by the notion of a Peanuts Christmas TV special. Thus, when "A Charlie Brown Christmas" debuted in December 1965, it did more than reunite Schulz, Mendelson, Melendez and Guaraldi, all of whom quickly turned the Peanuts franchise into a television institution. That first special also shot Guaraldi to greater fame, and he became irreplaceably welded to all subsequent Peanuts shows. Many of his earliest Peanuts tunes — "Linus and Lucy", "Red Baron" and "Great Pumpkin Waltz", among others — became signature themes that turned up in later specials.

Guaraldi became so busy that the ensuing decade saw only half a dozen album releases, three of them direct results of his Peanuts work: "A Boy Named Charlie Brown", "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and "Oh, Good Grief!" At some point between his switch from the Fantasy label to Warner Brothers, Guaraldi took the time to produce and direct an album that has become quite obscure: 1968's "Vince Guaraldi with the San Francisco Boys Chorus", released on his own D&D label. This was followed by two Warners releases: "The Eclectic Vince Guaraldi", which marks Guaraldi's recorded vocal debut; and "Alma-Ville", which showcases a Guaraldi guitar solo on one cut. On February 6, 1976, while waiting in a motel room between sets at Menlo Park's Butterfield's nightclub, Guaraldi died of a sudden heart-attack. He was only 47 years old.

A few weeks later, on March 16, "It's Arbor Day, Charlie Brown" debuted on television. It was the 15th, and last, Peanuts television special to boast Guaraldi's original music. He had just finished recording his portion of the soundtrack on the very afternoon of the day he died.

Time ... passed.

Those who followed in Guaraldi's Peanuts-themed footsteps — Ed Bogas, Desiree Goyette, Judy Munsen and others — found the shoes impossible to fill. Not one produced a song or theme anywhere near as catchy as the Master, and several of the specials from the late 1970s and '80s consequently lacked a certain zip.

A whopping three decades later, no doubt responding to unceasing pleas from fans who had played Guaraldi's three Peanuts albums to death — and wondered what had become of the themes and background music in all those other television specials — Fantasy released 1998's "Charlie Brown's Holiday Hits". The CD included nine previously unissued tracks, from the theme to "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" to a vocal rendition of "Oh, Good Grief", performed by Lee Mendelson's son's sixth-grade class.Four years later, in the summer of 2003, Vince Guaraldi's son, David, teamed up with Bluebird Records to release "The Charlie Brown Suite". The centerpiece selection, long spoken of in reverential tones by fans who only knew of it but never had heard it, is the fully orchestrated "Charlie Brown Suite", recorded live on May 18, 1969, during a benefit performance with Amici Della Musica (Richard Williams, conductor) at Mr. D's, a theater/restaurant in San Francisco's North Beach region. This awesome piece of music clocks in at roughly 40 minutes and skillfully weaves half a dozen songs into an integrated whole: "Linus and Lucy", "The Great Pumpkin Waltz", "Peppermint Patty", "Oh, Good Grief", "Rain, Rain, Go Away" and "Red Baron".

Encouraged by the enthusiastic response to this new compilation of his father's previously unreleased recordings, David Guaraldi has big plans for the upcoming years ... and this Web site is the place to get up-to-the-minute information.

"I don't think I'm a great piano player", Vince Guaraldi once said, "but I would like to have people like me, to play pretty tunes and reach the audience. And I hope some of those tunes will become standards. I want to write standards, not just hits". He got his wish.

Windham Hill recording artist George Winston has been playing "Linus and Lucy" for years, during his concert appearances. A promise to record it and other Guaraldi cuts finally bore fruit in the autumn of 1996, with the release of Winston's "Linus & Lucy: TheMusic of Vince Guaraldi".

"Linus and Lucy" also has been interpreted by Wynton Marsalis, Dave Brubeck and David Benoit; the latter has become Guaraldi's ongoing torch-bearer in the most recent Peanuts animated TV specials. GRP Records had a smash hit back in 1990, with their soundtrack to the television special "Happy Anniversary Charlie Brown", which gathered numerous jazz luminaries for their interpretations of classic Guaraldi compositions, along with some new cuts clearly inspired by Dr. Funk's Peanuts themes.

"Christmas Time is Here" has become a seasonal fixture, and pretty much everybody of consequence has covered "Cast Your Fate to the Wind".

Let's fade with the words of Jon Hendricks, poet laureate of jazz, who once wrote:

"Vince is what you call a piano player. That's different from a pianist. A pianist can play anything you can put in front of him. A piano player can play anything before you can put it in front of him."

Source: Derrick Bang, All About Jazz

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