#markham thunder

[grantmentis]

ehowe27: Dear hockey, thank you for the past 27 years.

I have you to thank for the friends l've made, the places I've been and the person l've become. You taught me to be brave, embrace challenges and to love with my whole heart.

I will never forget the early mornings, late nights, killer workouts, big losses, bigger wins, bus rides, tears, laughter, euchre, spikeball and most importantly, the teammates who were by my side during it all.

You gave me more than I could ever ask for, and you will always be my first love. My heart is so full and I am the luckiest person alive.

[fourthwingfan]

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?”

[artyandink]

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

[ottawacharge]

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."

[jazminrhode1]

Chapter 11: Threshing

In the six centuries of recorded history of dragon and rider, there have been hundreds of known cases where a dragon simply cannot emotionally recover from the loss of their bonded river. This happens when the bond is particularly strong and, in three documented cases, has even caused the untimely death of the dragon.

Navarre, An Unedited History by Colonel Lewis Markham.

~

October first is always Threshing. Monday, Wednesday, or Sunday, it doesn’t matter where it falls on any given year. On the first of October, the first-year cadens of the Riders Quadrant enter the bowl-shaped forested valley to the southwest of the citadel and pray they come out alive.

“Don’t die,” Xaden had told her that morning at breakfast. She’d barely touched her food that morning, her stomach churning too much to eat. She remembered Professor Kaori’s words: If a dragon has chosen you, they’ll make it known. They’ll be calling. Yet as she stepped into the dense, misty forest, silence met her ears. No call. No sign. Only the quiet crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant cries of cadets who’d already bonded, flying back to the flight field on their dragon’s back.

Hours passed. Judging by the sun, she figured it must be nearing midday, and her nerves frayed further with every dragon that crossed her path. She passed greens, browns, even a few oranges, all of them letting her pass without a second glance. She moved with caution, taking in every rustle, every breath of wind, searching for a sign that one of them might choose her. But there was nothing. And now Liam was gone, having left about an hour ago, claiming he needed to ��follow his instincts.” Alone, Thana kept pushing forward, her feet drawing her deeper into the valley. The forest grew denser, quieter, and she sensed she was nearing the boundaries that Professor Kaori had specifically warned them to avoid.

Her father’s voice whispered to her through the stillness of the trees, reminding her of the quiet nights they’d spent camping, watching stars above and learning to find peace in the wild. She felt closer to him here, beneath the canopy, where everything was raw and untouched. She loved this—the wilderness, the solitude. Even so, she knew her time was running short. She climbed a steep cliff edge, emerging into a sunlit clearing, dropping her pack to stretch. She couldn’t hear any other cadets anymore, nor the distant beat of dragon wings. Had she gone too far?

Suddenly, a flash of blue caught her eye through the trees, and her breath caught. Golden eyes glared at her, framed by vicious fangs. She recognized the dragon instantly—Sgaeyl, majestic and terrifying in the shifting light. But Sgaeyl wasn’t alone. Stepping out from behind her was Xaden.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, disappointment flickering across his face. 

“Kaori said to follow your instincts” Thana shot back, barely hiding her frustration. 

Xaden was guarded. He looked like he was going to say something but, he hesitated. He knew something that she didn’t, she was certain of that but, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, not now.

Before either could speak, a dark shadow swept over them, and the scarred dragon descended into the clearing with a thunderous flap of wings making the ground quake as it landed. Sgaeyl tensed, shifting to stand protectively in front of Xaden. There was a strange, silent exchange between Sgaeyl and the other blue, as if they were locked in some kind of fierce, unspoken argument. Thana glanced at Xaden, who looked as tense as Sgaeyl, his gaze flicking between the dragons as though he, too, was part of the conversation.

When Sgaeyl snapped, baring her teeth at the other dragon, Thana instinctively stepped out from behind Xaden and ran into the clearing where she met Sgaeyl’s intense stare. “Stop it!”

Sgaeyl dropped her head to meet Thana’s stare. You can’t tell a dragon what to do, the voice in her head snapped. Thana blinked, realizing with a jolt that Sgaeyl was speaking to her directly. Thana froze.

Xaden’s hand twitched at his side as he addressed Sgaeyl. Please, stand down, he said. She heard that too.

“How are you doing that?” she asked Xaden. His focus was on Sgaeyl. He was attentive to her in the only way a man could be to a beast. He was being selective of what parts of their conversation Thana could hear and what was just between them.

Sgaeyl growled lowly but slowly retreated, still shooting Thana a warning look. And then, Thana turned to face the scarred dragon, her heart racing.

I’ve waited for you, a deep, resonant voice rumbled in her mind. She met his amber eyes, feeling their intensity pierce her as he lowered his head in a gesture of trust. Thana’s hands shook slightly as she reached out, her fingers brushing his scarred snout. 

“I thought you weren’t bonding this year,” she stammered, trying to comprehend what was happening.

I chose you on Conscription Day, he replied calmly. She still stood frozen, unsure if she was terrified or relieved.

Before you choose me, you must know one thing.... “I have a choice?” Thana asked. Always.

Before you choose, I must tell you that I would never lie to you but, that means there are things I can not tell you about your father. 

Thana was confused. What’s your choice?

“I want to go with you,” Thana said. She was scared but, she was certain.

Get on my back, the dragon commanded gently.

Thana wasn’t sure that the ramp on the Gauntlet compared to the steep climb it would take to mount this dragon. Without further hesitation, she scrambled up his leg and onto his back. Not bad. We’ll work on it.

Thana gripped on tightly with her legs and clenched onto the scales between his wings. I won’t let you fall, he said. Before she could exhale, he took flight. Xaden followed on Sgaeyl, soaring through the valley as her dragon swooped and veered in graceful arcs. Below them, mountains unfurled like rolling waves, with autumn meadows painting the landscape in rich hues of gold and red.

Thana took in the trees and the mountains and the river bends below. She could see everything from up here. For the first time in a long time she felt like she could finally breathe.

As they approached the flight field, her dragon took a gentle lap around the perimeter, savoring the wind and the beauty of the valley. I haven’t had company like this in some time, he murmured, a note of contentment in his voice.

When he finally landed, she noticed that Liam had already returned, standing beside the red dragon that had eyed him back at Presentation Day. He grinned when he saw her dismount, and his dragon, Deigh, rumbled approvingly. But as Jack Barlowe strutted by, Thana’s dragon hissed, making Jack flinch.

Go and tell the roll keeper we’ve arrived, he explained. Her dismount was a little clumsier that she would have liked. We’ll practise, don’t worry.

With a steadying breath, she made her way to where Garrick was taking roll, his face pale, his voice shaky as he tried to maintain his composure. “Thana Valaren, glad to see you made it back alive,” he said, the words scripted but his relief unmistakable. “For the record, tell me the name of the dragon who chose you.”

Thana hesitated, realizing she didn’t actually know his name. A low rumble filled her mind, Válka, he whispered.

“Válka,” she repeated aloud. Kaori and Pancheck exchanged glances nearby, their eyes focussed on her. Garrick cleared his throat and nodded. “You’re dismissed.”

She made her way back to Válka, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes on her. With her mind still spinning, she asked, “Now what?” Now, Válka replied, his voice filled with a strange mix of pride and amusement, I show you what you’re really made of.

[alexbkrieger13]

Laura Stacey has still "Markham Thunder," in her twitter bio. Lol

🤣

[kimabutch]

[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.

[goalhofer]

2024-25 Toronto Marlies roster

Wingers

#11 Logan Shaw (Cape Breton Municipality, Nova Scotia) C

#43 Kyle Clifford (North Dumfries Township, Ontario) A

#46 Alex Steeves (Bedford, New Hampshire)

#73 Zach Solow (Naples, Florida)

#92 Alexander Nylander-Altelius (Stockholm, Sweden)*

#94 Robert Mastrosimone (Islip, New York)

Centers

#10 Joey Blandisi (Markham, Ontario) A

#14 Matt Barbolini (Amherst, New York)**

#21 Sam Stevens (Montreal, Quebec)**

#26 Nick Abruzzese (Waywayanda, New York)

#33 Roni Hirvonen (Espoo, Finland)

#56 Cédric Paré (Lévis, Quebec)*

#61 Jake Quillan (Dartmouth, Nova Scotia)**

#77 Ryan Tverberg (Richmond Hill, Ontario)

Defensemen

#8 Tommy Miller (West Bloomfield Charter Township, Michigan)

#32 Matteo Pietroniro (Montréal, Quebec)

#47 Topi Niemelä (Oulu, Finland)

#52 Cade Webber (Meadville, Pennsylvania)**

#54 Nicolas Rivet-Mattinen (Ottawa, Ontario)**

#55 Matt Benning (St. Albert, Alberta)

#76 William Villeneuve (Sherbrooke, Quebec)

#83 Marshall Rifai (Beaconsfield, Quebec) A

#84 Mikko Kokkonen (Mikkeli, Finland) A

Goalies

#30 Matt Murray (Thunder Bay, Ontario)

#35 Dennis Hildeby (Järfälla Kommun, Sweden)

#70 Artur Akhtiamov (Kazan, Russia)**

[asuindara]

Fourth Wing 2.0

A fix it canon divergent fanfic

Chapter 3: Changes (Ch. 2 / Ch. 4)

Summary: Violet crosses the parapet and makes two enemies, alongside an ally. Later, she finds an old friend and notices how things have possibly changed forever.

Trigger warnings: attempted murder, death threats, anxiety attack, panic attacks

The threads of panic were still there, waiting to choke Violet with every difficult step on the parapet. The rain poured down, plastering her hair, and she sent a quiet thanks for Mira due to the secured braid. There was mist forming and Violet’s sight was a bit compromised. She became hyper aware of the slippery stone and the bigger smooth-soled boot started to slip millimeters off to the side with every step. Her heart pumped blood into the limbs and the pulse pounded in her ear, the pain of her tense muscles starting threatening to become distracting in a situation that demanded nothing but full attention.

“Keep your eyes on the stones ahead”

Her mind registered the distant figure that was Rhiannon and the large mass of bluish gray colored stones, but did not stop to overanalyze it. Every drop of Violet’s focus was turned to the small steps she took on the bridge. Nausea was starting to rise as she took in the distance between her and the fortress, the rain seeping into her clothes and wrapping around her joints with the vice grip of a snake, injecting its cool venom. Every logical fiber of her being screamed to return back to safety and deal with the humiliation, it was better than dying after all, but it was too late. There was no going back, Violet either crossed or she died. Gods, that was really happening. Malek was making her dance on the stage of life like a cheap circus girl, ready to reap her soul any moment or cruelly letting her live to have an even worse death.

Thunder rumbled through the sky and sent her arms flailing. Panic was gripping her throat and Violet knew if she did not calm down it would be her downfall.

Her father’s beautiful features sparked in front of her eyes, the crinkles of his face frozen in time, almost disguised under the dark blue paint he so loved to adorn himself with. Her father used to babble when he was nervous, usually about something trivial as a comfort theme or his latest research, sometimes quotes of a fictional story. Yet another thing Violet had inherited from him, or mimicked.

“There are a few different divisions for the continent. Considering Uran’s view as a topographer, in A study on the landscapes: from the Emerald sea to the article Ocean, the division consists of the Cordillera, plains, mangroves and the Great Desert. Taking a more political approach, in their book named Navarre: an unedited history, Markham and Praxis first coined the division in which there are two kingdoms, Navarre and Poromiel, and the Barrens, the inhospitable desert area…”

Her voice was stolen by the wind, the words not reaching the ears, but she did not mind. Violet knew exactly how they sounded, every single letter of what she had been extensively taught for years of preparation. Words that she could also hear on her father’s voice. How odd it was that Violet prepared so long for the scribe test only to perform it on the parapet of the rider’s quadrant. It was ironic even, to think that lost dreams were her only form of dissipating the wild panic. At least the comfort of her knowledge would accompany her either through the ordeal, subsiding the pounding of the rushing blood and allowing the sloshing nausea to simmer down.

“Navarre is the largest kingdom, divided into six provinces: Luceras, Morraine, Calldyr, Deaconshire, Elgum and Tyrrendor. Each one has their own customs and language, sharing Calldyrian as a common tongue. According to Uran, due to the Leth-ghealach cordillera that separates the two Kingdoms and the Baideal mountains encasing Luceras, Navarre offers an abundance in ore, hardy timber, fruits, wheat, deer and elk. The kingdom of Poromiel, divided into the provinces of Cygnisen, Braevick and Krovla, mainly consists of arable plains and marshlands and is known for exceptional textiles, endless fields of grain, and unique crystalline gems capable of amplifying minor magics…”

There was a small distraction at the sight of the white painted line marking the halfway mark of the parapet. Looking forward, she noticed in elation as the faint shade of Rhiannon neared the last section of the bridge. Violet had to drown the sparks of hope before they even attempted to fire, there was no good in expecting survival until both her feet were on steady ground.

“Returning to Markhan and Praxis, Navarre was a product of the six province’s unification under the same monarch, King Reginald. Said alliance, forged six hundred and twenty six years ago, was a protective measure due to invasions coming from the Barrens and was fortified later on by the political tensions with Poromiel. The wars and truces between the two kingdoms have lasted for over four hundred years, but the Trade Agreement of Resson-”

The smooth sole of her boot knocks a few pieces of mortar out of place, startling Violet from her steady pace. She wobbled for a few seconds, her heart increasing its beating to a thunderous rhythm until her balance was restored. She felt the nausea hit all the way up, threatening the acidic liquid to spill. She tried her best to keep focused on taking the next step, willing her feelings into behaving.

“The Trade Agreement of Resson, signed more than two hundred years ago, ensures an exchange of meat and lumber from Navarre for the cloth and agriculture from Poromiel. The trade happens four times a year at the Athebyne outpost on the mountainous border of Krovla and Tyrrendor…”

The wind began to pick up once again and Violet was forced to crouch and grip any raised edges of the stone, though the wetness made it difficult to grasp it correctly. The howl in her ears was eerie instead of the usual comfort and she felt something akin to loss on her heart at such change. The water kept trickling down her face and she lowered it to avoid the droplets from reaching her eyes, the oils in her paint also helping divert the stray ones.

Violet took that moment to quickly glance behind her, confusion contorting her features. She first noticed how close Jack Barlowe was, which prompted her to curse at the pace of her steps. The strangest sight though was the fact he was facing away from her, arms lowered, completely still and steady, as if the wind did not phase his stance at all. Violet decided it was not worth her time, choosing to let go of the stone and resume her walking. The weird man could do whatever he wanted, she did not care in the least about whatever prideful point he wanted to make by testing his balance.

“The agreement was able to quiet the conflicts between the two kingdoms, until the Rebellion of Tyrrendor, in the year 618, in which the relations wavered-”

A loud noise pierced the air for a split second, sending her heart into another pounding pulse. After seeing Dylan fall, that noise had become awfully recognizable. Violet wanted to glance behind her, see if Barlowe had finally been arrogant enough for Malek to take him, but stopped herself from doing so. Then, as if Zinhal had taken personal pleasure in torturing Violet, a mocking voice carried through the relatively low howl of the wind.

“You’re next, Sorrengail!”

Against her will, she glanced over her shoulder. Barlowe was facing her again, awfully close and approaching confidently. Confusion soon settled into shock at the implications of his words and a new type of horror settled into her bones. Violet was not sure if throwing someone from the parapet was a punishable offense, but she would not find that out if Barlowe caught her. Testing her life, she hurried her steps and hoped that it would be enough to maintain some distance between them, trying to adjust her stance whenever her left foot slipped.

“The Tyrrish rebellion was a period of instability on Navarre’s cohesive unification, though not the first sign of resistance. As one of the last provinces to enter the alliance, Tyrrendor had always vindicated their autonomy and, considering the Annales of Aretia, frequently formed relations with Krovla…” Violet’s voice was trembling under panic, but she did not stop shouting into the wind, forcing her lungs to expand semi-regularly.

The wind slammed against her with such force that her left foot completely slipped out of the bridge. She felt her insides shift as complete dread filled her blood, her body feeling weightless and all sounds vanishing from her ears. Violet used a split second to quickly kneel on the only leg she had leverage, hitting her knee with a brutal force and gripping the stone until her nails bent. A guttural sound left her lips as the pain irradiated from her right knee all the way to the base of her spine in a searing sting. Her left leg was dangling completely, only the empty space meeting her soles. The position had Violet inevitably looking down at the ravine, at the kilometers of a free fall. She quickly averted her eyes, but the sight was burnt into them.

“I’m coming for you, Sorrengail!” Barlowe yelled once more, voice eerily close.

Through gritted teeth and grunts of pain, Violet tried to find leverage for her left leg, thankful for the first time in forever that her hypermobile joints were helpful. She would pay the price of the exertion later, but whatever her body conjured up as a consequence would be better than being thrown by a mad man or falling to her death. She adjusted her crouching, both feet set on the stone, and stood up. Pain sparked through her entire lower limbs and tears fell down her cheeks in a stream, but Violet used all of her abilities to close it inside a box. She could cry of pain, fuck up her knees, but death by murder was not an option. Violet was not going to die at someone’s hand, Malek would only have her for her own mistakes.

“Will you scream the whole way down?”

Violet kept her eyes on the fortress, close enough that she could see riders and define their features, close enough that she saw as Rhiannon stepped into the safety of the walls. A silent thankful prayer was the only acknowledgment Vilet allowed herself before focusing on her steps again. Her heart kept beating faster as wet steps behind her kept cutting the distance at an alarming rate, but she remained steady in her hurry. Panicking and taking a longer step would kill her. At that point, the pain was a muffled pestering child as her survival instincts kicked in, her tongue tied and mind too tunneled to even remember how to ramble.

All Violet could see were dark colored stone and faces. The clearer they became, the closer to safety she was. The last quarter, all she needed was to cross that last quarter.

“There’s no way someone who can’t even carry a full rucksack passed the entrance exam. You’re a mistake, Sorrengail” the condescending tone of his voice was clearer than ever before.

Her steps did not sway, her gaze fixated in front of her.

“It’s really for the best that I take you out now, don’t you think? It’s so much more merciful than letting the dragons have at you. They’ll start to eat you leg by rickety leg while you’re still alive. Come on. It will be my pleasure to help you out”

“The fuck you will” she blurted to herself.

Violet did not even have time to panic as her left foot slipped almost entirely out of the stone bridge, instead locking muscles and redirecting the next step while firming her stance with her right leg. The walls screaming safety were just on her reach, only a couple steps from encasing her. Elation started to bubble on her throat as the walls of the turret began to rise beside her, a happiness akin of the day she finally mastered an entire prose in Old Lucerish, with no mispronunciation and perfect structure.

“You think you’ll be safe in there?” Barlowe was definitely right behind her.

As soon as the stone walls reached her hip height, she bolted to the turret, hearing as the man behind her did the same. Every hit in the stone made her knee joints wobble under the pressure of her wraps and braces, but the pain was dulled as it dissipated into her heated blood. She felt the sound of his fingers grasping her pack, to which Violet quickly slid it off his reach, and she unceremoniously jumped from the parapet into the solid ground of the tower, her right knee almost popping out of its socket at the bold move. She barely paid attention to the sounds around her with how deafening her pulse was, but Violet spun with a dagger in hand. Jack was too close for her to throw the dagger and cause considerable harm, so she chose to simply work his speed into her advantage and let the man impale himself on it. Unfortunately, he paused just enough for the tip of her blade to press against the fabric of his briefs.

“I think. I’ll be safe. For right. Now” Violet said between labored breaths, her steady hand pressing the dagger and cutting through the fabric.

Barlowe stared at her with wide eyes, but not a single drop of fear in them - only rage. That man was no common harasser, there was more to his blue eyes than simply being a condescending asshole. She made an enemy without even speaking to him.

“Will you?” his words were just as laboured, spewing malice.

“It is unlawful for a rider to cause another harm. While in a quadrant formation or in the supervisory. Presence of a superior-ranking cadet” Violet quoted, sending Barlowe her best condescending look in return “As it will diminish the efficacy of the wing. And given the crowd behind us, I think it’s clear to argue that it’s a formation. Article Three, Section-”

“I don’t give a shit!” Barlowe snarled.

Violet twisted her blade and pressed even further, hearing as the fabric ripped open even more “I suggest you reconsider or I might slip”

“Name?” a voice ringed behind her, disinterested and bored. Not surprising since they probably saw death on a daily basis “You’re pretty small for a rider, but it looks like you made it”

“Violet Sorrengail” Her reply was not dignified with a look, she would not divert her eyes from Barlowe “And before you ask, yes, I’m that Sorrengail”

“Not surprised, with that maneuver”

Violet tried to hide the surprise in her face. Being complimented over a physical ability was a first outside of a medical situation.

“And what’s your name?” the female rider continued.

“Jack Barlowe” his blue eyes were glued on Violet’s, as if reconsidering his earlier thoughts with how thoroughly she was being analyzed.

“Well, Jack” a male rider spoke behind her “Cadet Sorrengail has you by the actual balls here, in more ways than one. She’s right. Regs state that there’s nothing but respect among riders at formation. You want to kill her, you’ll have to do it in the sparring ring or on your own time. That is, if she decides to let you off the parapet. Because technically, you’re not on the grounds yet, so you are not a cadet. She is”

“And if I decide to snap her neck the second I step down?” Jack asked, not a shred of doubt or bluffing in his words.

“Then you get to meet the dragons early” the female rider replied “We don’t wait for trials around here. We just execute”

“What’s going to be, Sorrengail?” the other rider asked “You going to have Jack here start as a eunuch?”

With the angle of the dagger, neutering the man was the only option of harm. She considered it, knowing it would only fester his dislike towards her even more, but it would probably give her a little satisfaction after almost being murdered. Unfortunately, her blood was beginning to lose its heat and the pain on her right knee was becoming harder to ignore by the minute. If Jack retaliated out of instinct, Violet would not be able to defend herself properly.

She used her last few threads of energy to take a quick step behind, but never lowered her dagger, building distance between them, taking another dagger from her rib sheath and pinching the blade in preparation for throwing if Barlowe went for her neck.

“Pity” the male rider sighed.

Jack glanced at the man briefly before stepping into the fortress, officially a cadet. Violet did not stay for long, walking backwards into the courtyard with daggers still in hand, trying to build as much distance from him as possible. She only turned her back on Barlowe when the sea of people swarmed her from all sides, giving a few seconds of peace before the forming line of enemies began to go for her throat.

First Xaden Riorson, now Jack Barlowe. Violet would add rotten apples to her list of offers for Zinhal.

The pain on her knee and hips was growing and Violet felt the tell tale nausea join the sensation. Soon, her fingers began to tremble uncontrollably and too fucking visibly for a place so dangerous. The elation from surviving the parapet and being alive still there, but now attached to this constant dread for what was to come.

She had survived. Violet proved herself capable of beating the first odds of her destiny. Mira was not going to mourn another sibling.

Violet did not die.

A hand grabbed her by the shoulders and she had to swallow the pain once more, spinning and raising her blade and plunge on whomever had touched her. It was only her fast reflexes that allowed Violet to stop as soon as she recognized Rhiannon.

“We made it” the woman practically squealed, what seemed to be a genuine smile on her full lips.

Violet lowered her blade and tried to steady her accelerating heartbeat “We made it”

The pain was clouding her senses again and the trembling spreading through her body. Violet wanted to just surrender and fall to the ground and was trying very hard not to lean on Rhiannon’s hands, not sure if the woman was fit to be an ally. Considering there were two people on the list of potential murderers in less than a day, Violet was beginning to lose hope anyone there could be an ally by default.

“I can’t thank you enough. There were at least three times I would have fallen off if you hadn’t helped me. You were right, those soles were slick as shit” Rhiannon was still smiling, her own body trembling a little while removing her hands from Violet’s shoulders.

“I also did not expect everyone here to be so carefree with their appearance” the woman continued and Violet was trying her best to focus on the words and remove the attention from her own collapsing body “I just saw someone with such a bright rose colour in their hair. Also, I kind of feel bad for not bringing more of my hair accessories now, everyone here is fully adorned”

“Conformity is for the infantry” Violet reiterated.

Rhiannon shrugged “Come on, let’s get out of this crowd”

Violet felt her throat constrict and her limbs trembling uncontrollably. Every step seemed to induce another wave of nausea, another shift on her right knee, a stronger spark of pain. Her mind felt as if it floated above everyone else, leaving her body behind.

“Speaking of which” Rhiannon continued, looking over her shoulder “We need to trade boots. There’s a bench-”

Violet froze as a familiar figure cut through the line of people, bringing with him an overwhelming relief to the point she wanted to laugh.

“Violet?” the soft spoken yet masculine voice was enough to redeem Zinhal for a while.

He grabbed Violet by the shoulders, his familiar yet so different features contorted into shock and disbelief. She noticed the change in stature first, he had grown a few centimeters since their previous interaction. Holding his forearms for support, it was evident the muscle gain too. Adding the beard and hardened dark eyes, the cropped brown hair, the black uniform, there was an entirely different Dain Aetos in front of her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” his whispered.

He was different, sure, but it was still her oldest friend. Violet hadn’t seen him in so long, their last encounter barely counting as a farewell since she was drowning in grief. She missed him and, at a certain point in the morning, was not sure they would ever reencounter.

“Find Dain Aetos”

Violet hoped Mira did not have to wait long to hear that she had succeeded. She was alive, she had found Dain and, for at least a moment…Violet was safe. Her body, probably reaching the same conclusion, collapsed completely, knees failing and her weight falling over him like a sack of grains. The movement sparked her nausea to unbelievable levels and Violet was one hundred percent sure she would puke all over Dain’s boots. What a reencounter.

“Dain. It’s good to see you” her voice was relieved but she couldn’t smile properly, her face felt all wrong.

“Damn it, Violet” he balanced her back up, holding by the lower back and left arm, leaning her entire weight on his side.

Violet barely felt her legs moving, but her knee complained either way. She groaned quietly and locked her jaw to avoid making too much noise. They moved away from the crowd, towards an alcove before a long corridor. She felt a cool surface on the back of her knees and soon Dain pushed her into the bench as delicately as possible, taking off her leather rucksack off her shoulders. The movement yet again flared the nausea and saliva pooled inside Violet’s mouth.

“I’m going to be sick”

“Head between your knees” Dain ordered. The tone was a little too commanding, but Violet did not have the capacity to glare at him. He was not wrong anyway and there was redemption in the way he comfortingly rubbed between her shoulder blades.

“It’s the adrenaline. Give it a minute and it’ll pass” he murmured.

Violet tried her best to focus on her breathing, swallowing the excess saliva and willing her stomach into behaving. She was not going to puke and let people see her in such a state.

“Who the hell are you?” Dain’s harsh words startled her and this time Violet did look up to see Rhiannon right beside them, looking a little worried.

“I’m Rhiannon. I’m Violet’s…friend”

“Listen to me, Rhiannon. Violet is fine” Dain continued “And if anyone asks, then you tell them exactly what I said, that it’s just the shock working out of her system. Understand?”

“It’s no one’s business what’s going on with Violet” Rhiannon said in a measured tone, but there was an obvious defiance in her voice “So I wouldn’t say shit. Especially not when she’s the reason I made it across the parapet”

“You’d better mean that” he replied.

“I could ask you who the hell you are” Rhiannon quipped and Violet could see one of her boots tapping on the ground.

“It’s okay, Rhiannon, he’s an old friend” Violet managed to say.

“And a second-year rider, cadet” the way he said those words was very uncharacteristic of Dain, and also a huge contrast to his caring touch on Violet’s back “No one can see you here, Vi, so take your time”

Violet nodded and tried to lift her torso enough to unlace Rhiannon’s boot from her feet, trying not to wince with every movement.

“Are you hurt?” Dain asked, his eyes oscillating between worry and anger while analyzing her body. Considering how long he had known Violet, she would not be surprised if he had already catalogued her possible injuries.

“My knee is sore” she admitted quietly.

Dain nodded discreetly, softness reaching his eyes “the right one?”

She smiled a little, confirming his answer. His hand dropped from her back and ran through the seams of the rib sheaths of her vest, noticing the two daggers nestled there. His gaze turned confused and, for a split second, Dain looked at Violet right in the eyes as if seeing her for the first time “You’re wearing daggers”

“Yeah. Four of them”

“Alright” his face slips into a hard mask again “Get your boots switched. You two look ridiculous. Vi, do you trust this one?”

Violet supposed it was the moment of truth. Rhiannon had been nothing but polite, even waiting for her to cross simply to return a boot when most people would simply vanish inside the safety of the courtyard. Whether the actions were performed out of personal interest or as payment for a favor, Violet could work with that.

“I do”

“Alright” Dain said, standing up and walking towards Rhiannon “I’m Dain Aetos, leader of Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing”

Violet took off the boot with difficulty and passed it to Rhiannon, retrieving her own in return. The movements paused slightly at the mention of the rank. It should not be a surprise that Dain attained such a high second year rank, he had always been an exceptional learner.

“Parapet should be over in the next couple of hours, depending on how fast the candidates cross or fall. Go find the redhead with the roll - she’s usually carrying a crossbow - and tell her that Dain Aetos put both you and Violet Sorrengail into his squad. If she questions you, tell her she owes me from saving her ass at Threshing last year. I’ll bring Violet back to the courtyard shortly”

Rhiannon sent her a look as if asking for confirmation.

“Wait” Violet interrupted, grabbing Dain by the arm and lowering him to her level, switching to lucerish “are you in direct chain of command from Riorson?”

His eyes snapped at her and the mask fully slipped, his features settling into horror “No, I’m not. But now that you’ve mentioned it, we can’t let him know you’re here. Whose last name did you use? because using your mother’s is a death sentence!”

“Hum” Violet shrugged “that ship has sailed. I got ratted out before even attempting at using dad’s. And Riorson was at parapet anyway, he knows my name and face”

Dain’s face was drained of all color and he muttered a blasphemous curse before turning to Rhiannon again “Go, do as I say before someone sees us. Now!”

Violet nodded at her in confirmation.

“Going” Rhiannon replied, her boots echoing on the stone in quick steps.

Shoving her feet into the boot, Violet fought through the pain and stood up.

“I can’t believe you traded a boot. That was reckless, Vi!” he scolded her, a familiar tune in their friendship. From panicked Dain trying to convince Violet not to climb a tree and break her legs to the brutal reality of their current lives.

“She would have died without trading” she tested her knees and they protested vehemently. They needed to be stabilized soon.

“You’re unbelievable” He complained, offering his arm for support “Take it. We need to get you to my room. You need to wrap that knee. Last I heard about you nobody had found a cure”

“You’d hear my odes of happiness all the way to your pristine citadel had they found it” Violet joked, but Dain did not laugh at it.

“Damn it, Violet. Damn it” was all he whispered while supporting her weight again and guiding them through a tunnel near the alcove, avoiding being seen by most people.

Violet felt relief flow through her body again, the strange detachment of her mind dissipating for a few seconds though her body still complained in growing pain. With Dain’s experienced and safe companionship, she finally let herself lower the state of high alert, trying to avoid the stress migraine that was already forming.

He guided her through a tunnel near the alcove, which opened into a secluded area. With no rider or cadet on sight, Violet finally let go and exposed the full extent of her limp, which Dain noticed.

“How bad is it?”

“Had it worse, but still hurts to put my weight on it” she whispered back.

They crossed the area relatively slow, entering a long corridor.

“You’re not supposed to be here” Dain gripped her arm tighter, his voice losing its firmness.

“Well aware”

“You’re supposed to be in the Scribe Quadrant” he continued “What the hell happened? Please tell me you did not volunteer for the Riders Quadrant”

Violet sent him the glare he was owed for a while “What do you think happened?”

He let go of her for a split second to open a large gate adorned with long lost Tyrrish runes “Your mother?”

“My mother” Violet confirmed “Something about ‘every Sorrengail is a rider’, you know?”

Dain simply huffed and they emerged from the corridor into a small anteroom. Violet mustered the most disgusting curse, one that would probably wake her own father from the dead to scold her, at the sight of circular stairs. Dain had to support her weight even more for her to manage the two sets.

“This is the second-year floor,” he explains quietly. “Which means-”

“I know. I’m not supposed to be up here” she finished “you were never this paranoid. In fact, I remember Dain Aetos being very good at sneaking where he was not allowed in”

“Sneaking into your room wasn’t illegal” he scoffed.

“Sneaking into my room with stolen liquor was” Violet countered “but if you’re that afraid, we can-”

“Don’t worry. If someone sees us, I’ll just say that I was overcome with lust at first sight and couldn’t wait another second to get you out of your pants”

His words dissipate the last of her tense shoulders and she chuckles quietly. Fuck she missed the weird ‘flirting but not making a move on you’ thing even if it was frustrating sometimes.

“I never knew a man more charming than you” she joked “also, I can throw in a few oh, Dain cries once we’re in your room just for believability”

Dain shook his head and rolled his eyes dramatically, stopping by a simple wooden door and making a hand sign. An audible click sounded on the empty hallway and the small action was enough to astonish her.

“That’s…something” she mimicked his hand motion.

Another stark reminder of his current status. It was easy to forget Dain was not a regular man anymore. Seeing such a small performance of magic was strange coming from him. From her mother and siblings? Sure, Violet had gotten used to it, but Dain…They had been equals for so long. Longer than her own siblings had been with her.

“Don’t look so surprised!” he said in indignation, entering his room.

At first sight, the space did not differ much from the one she lived in for the last few years. There was a rack with a few different weapons, from short swords to daggers, some books and paper scattered on his desk. She could even recognize a tome about Krovlan language she had gifted him for his birthday, a smile spreading through her face that Dain brought it with him to the quadrant. Her heart soured remembering the fable book she left behind.

“Nice room”

“You should see the view” he guided her towards an arched window, where the rest of the fortress extended for kilometers and the Iakobos river draped across the plain land, adorned by the distant mountains. It was strange to see the citadel from that perspective and almost beautiful if it wasn’t for the perfect view of the parapet. Violet averted her gaze immediately, the horrors from being on that bridge still raw inside her.

“Do you have wraps in here?” Dain asked, giving her pack back and guiding her to his desk chair.

“Got them all from Major Gillstead” Violet replied, sitting down with a struggle and opening her bag. The wraps were right on top, thanks to Mira.

“Make yourself at home” Dain announced, leaning against this door with significantly less tense shoulders “As much as I hate that you’re here, I have to say it’s more than nice to see your face, Vi”

His gaze softened and she could almost see the shy boy she met all those years ago come back to the surface. For a moment, she could pretend that they were just two teenagers again, waiting for the night to fall so they can finally leave and do something other than training or education.

“I’ve missed you” she admitted, a bittersweet taste on her tongue.

“Yeah. I’ve missed you, too” there was more in his eyes than the words proclaimed, something almost akin to longing, but he quickly snapped out of it “You’d better get that leg wrapped. I won’t look”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before” Violet commented, unbuttoning her pants and sliding the leather down her legs. She cursed at her swollen knees, one worse than the other. Removing the ruined wraps and the metal braces, she quickly assessed if the joint was at risk of dislocating.

“Yeah, well, we’re not sneaking away to swim, are we?” his teasing tone was a good distraction from the pain as Violet began to tighten the new fabric around her swollen joints, trying to keep the braces in the correct place. The movements were practiced and fast thanks to her years of experience dealing with the condition.

Violet adjusted her pants and tested her joints by standing. The pain was still there, insistent and annoying, but the joint was secure enough. It would be a nightmare until the swell diminished and her life would be a bit more miserable than usual, but it was still way better than a dislocation “I’m decent”

Dain turned, the softness completely gone from his brown eyes as he took her in analytically “You look…different”

Look who’s talking.

“It’s the leathers. Why? Is different bad?” Violet inquired.

“It’s just…Different”

The somber look in his eyes was another unpleasant reminder of the obvious distance that was settling between them.

“Why, Dain Aetos” she deflected the sudden realization, trying to sound humorously “You’ve seen me in swimwear, tunics, and even ballgowns. Are you telling me it’s the leather that does it for you?”

Dain rolled his eyes, smiling, and Violet felt the distance shorten a little bit. His face was tinged with redness and she rejoiced that the shy boy still in fact resided within that rider.

“Glad to see our year apart hasn’t dulled your tongue, Vi” he replied, turning to open the door for her.

Violet grabbed her leather rucksack “I can do quite a few things with my tongue. You’d be impressed”

The redness was more than evident and Violet wondered if he would stammer as he used to, but Dain simply shook his head and slipped the impartial mask back up “We have to get you out of here, I wanted to speak more about…well, everything, but I can’t be late for formation”

Violet nodded “It’s okay. We can talk later”

They left his room and she felt a little better at the stability of her knees while descending the stairs, the nausea quieting down as the ache became bearable. She walked straight towards the gate, but Dain redirected her to another flight of stairs below.

“There’s a door at the bottom of this stairwell, below the main level, that leads to the passage into the Healers Quadrant farther up the ravine” he said, already descending “We’ll get you through that and into the Scribe Quadrant. It’s just enough time for me to return without raising much suspicion too”

Violet paused at the top of the stairs “What?”

Dain turned back to face her and offered a hand “The Scribe Quadrant”

“I can’t go to the Scribe Quadrant, Dain”

“I’m sorry?”

“Lilith won’t stand for it, you know her!” she whispered “You bring me there and she’ll just haul me right back and tell your father that you helped me”

His eyes flared “You can’t stay, Vi. This place will kill you. Nobody in this quadrant would even care if you disappeared even if you had volunteered”

Violet felt laughter flutter in her chest, a bitter kind that often made her an entirely different - and not so kind - person. One honed from years of grief of who she could have been.

“One, I’m well aware of what my chances are here, Dain, and two, usually fifteen percent of candidates don’t make it past the parapet, and I’m still standing, so I guess I’m beating those odds already”

Dain looked at her in exasperation “I’m not saying you didn’t just kick absolute ass by getting here, Vi. But you have to leave. You’ll break the first time they put you in the sparring ring, and that’s before the dragons sense that you’re…”

“I’m what?” Violet prompted, sourness overwhelming her sense of taste “Go ahead and say it. When they sense I’m less than the others? Is that what you mean?”

“Damn it, Vi. Stop putting words in my mouth. You know what I mean. Even if you survive Threshing, there’s no guarantee a dragon will bond you. As it was, last year we had thirty-four unbonded cadets who have just been sitting around, waiting to restart the year with this class to get a chance at bonding again, and they’re all perfectly healthy-”

“Fuck you” her words were strangled with anger. Though his words held no lies, it was fucking awful when Dain, someone who always knew her stance and opinion regarding her illness, repeated the same discourse everyone else did. Fuck, her mother had been more confident in Violet’s survival than him!

“I’m trying to keep you alive!” Dain’s tone rose to that unfamiliar level again “If we get you to the Scribe Quadrant right now, you can still ace their test and have a phenomenal story to tell when you’re out drinking. I take you back out there and it’s out of my hands. I can’t protect you here. Not fully”

Those last sentences caught her attention. Mira had asked to seek his protection and, in a way, Violet wanted to feel safe, to have someone watching her back in a place that promised to be deadly. She had trained for half a year only, Dain was not wrong by saying she would be eaten alive either by people…or dragons. The fear in his eyes was evident, the pleading of his features and the insistence of his hands, begging her to follow him.

Could he really protect her? Could anyone for that matter?

As angry as Violet felt about the commentary on her health, his actions made her reflect even more about her abilities. Dain had survived that entire first year in that quadrant, he knew where everything could go wrong, knew Violet since they were children, and if he was not confident in protecting her, then things were in fact more brutal than she could imagine.

“I’m sorry, Dain, but there is nothing we can do. Lilith forced me into the quadrant and we are both lying to ourselves thinking she won’t anticipate me trying to run away with your help. Fuck, everyone on the loop to make sure I don’t escape”

“We can try!” he insisted “your mother can’t deviate everyone from their duties just for that”

Violet looked at Dain as if he had said the stupidest thing in the world “You want to bet me on this?”

“I don’t want to bet on my best friend living or dying! Do you think it’ll be fun to see what they’ll do to you, knowing you’re General Sorrengail’s daughter? Putting on leathers doesn’t make you a rider, Vi. They’re going to tear you to shreds, and if they don’t, the dragons will. In the Riders Quadrant, you either graduate or die, and you know that. Let me save you”

His shoulders dropped in defeat and Violet felt bad for him. It was difficult to stay angry with someone desperate to save a friend.

“Please let me save you” he whispered.

Violet descended a few steps, grasping his shoulders affectionately and offering a smile she knew was far from comforting. There was no comfort for both of them, only acquiescence.

“You can’t. Lilith won’t let it happen and you might even get in deep shit trying to help me. I either leave here as a rider or as a name on a stone”

“I can’t protect you, Vi” his voice was on the verge of snapping “I have my hands tied in so many aspects-”

“Hey” Violet tried to firm up her voice “I’m not asking you to. I’ll traverse this just like any other - on my own”

For a moment Dain was about to protest but then remained silent. He raised his hand and hovered over her face as if asking for permission, which she consented to. There was a familiar brush of fingers on the side of her face.

“I’ll find a way, Vi. You’re not going to die”

Her heart fell and Violet smiled just as sadly as she felt “I’m not going to die”

[faithnfrivolity]

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

[maximuswolf]

Concert Review - Daniel Markham - May 19 2024

Concert Review - Daniel Markham - May 19, 2024 -Ok, here me out: It was really f-ing hot today. Cool breeze did what it could, all things considered. Take this review with a grain of salt: as I may have been sodium-deficient during the show. It was really gnarly tho: Daniel Markham closed out the Karbach Love Street Stage at 4pm - just at peak asymptote with the waft of butt-crack port-a-potty and kettle-flavored corns & when your knees really let you know how dey feelin'. The inflatable and Giant LoveStreet beer can was no match for the sonic force that forced its presence into the otherwise-bare and plain atmosphere - taking the balloon can as victim like every one of those roadies on the way to the show.The smart move was to grab a lemonade, and hopefully find a bit of shade, while this local Quintet powerfully laid, a down-right dirty-laundry, air-raid, boiler-room of a driving 45-min set - reminiscent of a season of REM shows in the dusty Atlanta backyards of the 1990's. Emotionally-speaking, there was a genuine connection when Markham made a half-joking explanation for each of the meanings of the song - by repeating the name of the song. I dunno if that helps the search-engine-optimization? His laid-back demeanor laide bare a contrast to the buzz-saw distorted lighting bolt of energy he brought to the stage. Luckily, the festival storm shelter was nearby; in the event one of the performers summoned the thunder Gods, we could seek shelter from any more cray cray stormy-(daniel markham's) whether in the parking structure >.

[junkyard-robin]

Canada cities

Yukon

Dawson City, Haines Junction, Whitehorse

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Northwest Territories

Inuvik, Yellowknife

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Nunavut

Alert Station, Grise Fiord, Resolute Bay, Iqaluit, Rankin Inlet

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British Columbia

Victoria, Saanich, Saanichton, North Saanich, Nanaimo, Campbell River, Courtenay, Alert Bay, Prince Rupert, Prince George, West Vancouver, North Vancouver, Vancouver, Richmond, Delta, White Rock, New Westminster, Burnaby, Surrey, Coquitlam, Port Coquitlam, Mission, Maple Ridge, Pitt Meadows, Langley, Abbotsford, Chilliwack, Agassiz, South Sumas, Osoyoos, Oliver, Penticton, Kelowna, West Kelowna, Kamloops, Vernon, Salmon Arm, Cranbrook, Whistler

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Alberta

Fort McMurray, Fort Mackay, Grande Prairie, Edmonton, Spruce Grove, Leduc, Red Deer, Calgary, Okotoks, Cochrane, Airdrie, Banff, Jasper, Lake Louise, Medicine Hat, Lethbridge, Drumheller, Lloydminster

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Saskatchewan

Lloydminster, Prince Albert, Saskatoon, Regina, Moose Jaw, Swift Current, Weyburn, Estevan, Yorkton, Moosomin

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Manitoba

Portage la Prairie, Brandon, Winnipeg, Norway House, Thompson, Churchill

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Ontario

Thunder Bay, Sault Sainte. Marie, Timmins, North Bay, Greater Sudbury, OTTAWA, Nepean, Kanata, Kingston, Cornwall, Peterborough, Kawartha Lakes, Orillia, Barrie, Innisfil, Keswick-Elmhurst Beach, Midland, Orangeville, Newmarket, Oshawa, Ajax, Pickering, Whitby, Cobourg, Courtice, Scarborough, Etobicoke, Toronto, Markham, Vaughan, Richmond Hill, Brampton, Mississauga, Guelph, Kitchener, Brantford, Milton, Cambridge, Waterloo, Oakville, Burlington, Hamilton, Saint Catharines, Welland, Pelham, Niagara Falls, Niagara-on-the-Lake, London, Saint Thomas, Chatham-Kent, Chatham, Kent, Sarnia, Windsor

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Quebec

Val d'Or, Gatineau, Salaberry-de-Valleyfield, Chateauguay, Mont-Tremblant, Sainte-Therese, Sainte-Catherine, Saint-Jerome, Boisbriand, Brossard, Repentigny, Charlemagne, Terrebonne, Laval, Longueuil, Montreal, Montreal-Est, Dorval, Boucherville, Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Granby, Victoriaville, Beloeil, Saint-Hyacinthe, Drummondville, Saint-Georges, Sherbrooke, Vaudreuil-Dorion, Magog, Sorel-Tracy, Joliette, Shawinigan, Trois-Rivieres, Ville du Quebec (Quebec City), Levis, Saguenay, Rimouski

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Newfoundland and Labrador

Labrador City, Saint John's, Saint Lawrence, Mount Pearl

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Nova Scotia

Sydney, Halifax, Yarmouth

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New Brunswick

Moncton, Fredericton, Saint John, Bathurst

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Prince Edward Island

Charlottetown, Summerside

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Jane got so deep in the con that he lost sight of what’s real and what matters to him. Lisbon got tired of waiting and lying to herself about jane, and jumped ship the first chance she got.

Hey, sorry to put you on blast, but I've been meaning to talk about 6b jisbon and you gave me the excuse. So also feel free to ignore this.

The thing is, I do think Jane was building up to starting a relationship with Lisbon, since at least going back to The Golden Hammer. I think her teasing him about going on a date with Ardiles made him kinda go "oh, that's right, I haven't locked that down yet." After that, and I mean in that very same episode, you could see him "activate" (as we say in my country) — "I'm cheerful because I'm on a date sitting here with you", "that hat looks great on you", "Lisbon didn't come to Mexico? Bummer", "hey, Lisbon, drop this investigation into the murder of an acquaintance of ours and our bugged phones and let me take you somewhere near the border with Mexico! No? Bummer." He DID have to drop it once the Haibach thing picked up pace, granted.

However (and maybe this is what you meant about being too deep in the con, I'll admit I'm not sure what you mean by it), he was never going to come out and ask her out like Pike did. In that sense, the episode was a good representation of the issue — Jane engineered it so he and Lisbon were living together as a couple in a huge lavish house full of beautiful art and excitement, but, at the end of the day, they slept alone. All glitter, no gold. You can choose to read into it, but there was no risk involved for him. "I do like to keep my muss to a minimum."

And I believe (admittedly, this is closer to a headcanon) that pre-Red John (the ep), he and Lisbon had this... understanding to misunderstand. They were aware that there was something between them that couldn't be until Red John (the killer) was out of the way. So they danced around that topic on the understanding that they had an agreement. It's why Lisbon felt entitled to protest and be hurt about Lorelai. It's why they could move past "Good luck, Teresa. Love you" and "You're a little in love with him, eh? But he's so secretive and controlling". THEY KNEW.

But then Jane came back and nothing changed.* Too much muss. Jane's glacial, sideways attempt at progress looked to Lisbon like business as usual. Even IF she recognized that he was still interested in her, again, Violets seemed like the perfect example of how life would be with him — a deception backed by an illusion followed by artifice. She didn't want to be kept guessing.

It's why she allowed things to get so serious with Pike. We know that she's dated before (Jeff from Narcotics), but it wasn't a commitment for her. I think that's why Jane wasn't that bothered by it and why he waited so long to make his move when she was with Pike. Going after a woman in a relationship — tacky! And for what? Lisbon would break it off sooner than rather later. History was on his side.

I do believe Jane would have driven things home, if she'd given him time to do things his way, but she'd never had gotten the honesty and straightforwardness she got in Blue Bird. Especially since it would have involved her asking for that honesty and, let's be honest, Jane isn't the only one to avoid muss in that situationship. And that, I think, would have followed them into any relationship they built going forward.

TL;DR (Because I think even I lost the plot there for a moment): Jane did have his eyes on the prize, but he pursued her with the same risk-aversion I apply to spending loot in video games, so the moment Pike offered her something honest, Lisbon, as you said, jumped ship.

*In fact, and this is my biggest headcanon yet, Jane broke that agreement when he got back and almost immediately pretended to be interested in Krystal Markham. Fake or not, using her or not, he was making it very clear that he was accountable to no one in regards to his romantic life. Not that he meant it like that, but I, for one, couldn't help watching that and going "isn't there someone you should straighten things out with before you go out and play honeypot, buddy?"

The episode was led by an argument about what was best, hitting hard and fast and keeping it simple or cute tricks with no fuss, no muss. By the end, Jane's devious methods got him a closed case, but Pike being straightforward and direct got him Lisbon.

[womenshockeydaily]

08-10-16

[neverenoughofpou]