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elvish-sky · 4 years ago

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Totally and Completely in Love {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: I’m extremely proud of this. I’ve worked on it for two weeks and just really love it. I think it’s actually my favorite thing I’ve ever written, so it would mean so much to me if you guys let me know what you think of it.

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Hey! Can I request a Legolas x (human)reader where the reader is on the quest with the fellowship and she gets a really bad fever along the way (my idea was she passes out and Legolas carries her and takes care of her - but that's just an idea, you can make it any way you wish!) and while she's in fever shaking and high temperature she accidentally admits her feelings for Legolas not even knowing what she says cause she's so very ill. With lots of fluff along the way - fluff in your fics is just amazing 🥺 OH AND plus Aragorn who's shipping them the whole time like he always does! I was thinking about this for a long time and I just had to request it! Thank you so so so sooo muchh ❤️❤️❤️ Lots of love!

Word Count: 4, 318 ....oops. My bad.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Summary: You catch a cold and Legolas takes care of you.

Warnings: Swears, sickness/fever

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Totally and Completely in Love

You dove under the water, probing with your hands until you hit what you thought was an ankle. Yanking it, you felt the person attached stumble and join you under the water. You came up for air, laughing to see Merry spluttering as he recovered from his sudden dunking.

Leaving Rivendell some days previously, you had been excited for the journey and adventure you were about to embark on. Now, though, you were starting to feel a little worse for wear. After spotting the small waterfall and pool it flowed into, you and the hobbits had begged Aragorn to stop early for the day, desperate to wash up. After a lot of begging, he had finally agreed, and here you were.

Aragorn had wanted to get a more thorough grasp of the terrain if you were to be camping here, and Legolas and Gimli had volunteered to join him. Aragorn had rolled his eyes, knowing that he would spend a lot of time breaking up arguments and friendly competitions between the two, but they left. (You fondly recalled the time when, after a long day of walking, the two had started a competition to find the most firewood. It had ended with them having a tug-of-war with a large log while the rest of the group rolled around laughing at them, which doubled when Aragorn chopped the log in half, causing them each to fall back on their asses.) While they scouted, Sam got a fire going, and Boromir and Gandalf did who knows what, you and the other three hobbits had decided to go wash your clothes. Merry and Pippin had quickly started a fight, however, and upon seeing them in the pool with the mist spraying into the air, creating rainbows, you had stripped down to your underthings and joined them, determined to win, while Frodo looked on and called out advice from a nearby rock. It was freezing, uncomfortably so, but it was worth it to be able to feel even a little bit clean again.

“Nice one, Y/N!” he cried out now, nodding his approval as you dunked Pippin. You ignored the fact that as a human, you had a size advantage over the small hobbits, and proceeded to do a victory lap in the water.

Swimming around, you admired the natural beauty that you had somehow stumbled upon. Small cliffs rose around you, about the height of a small oak tree, sheltering the little lagoon. The waterfall cascaded down the rocks into the pool of shimmering blue water, which filtered out between a small gap in the rocks, forming a river. The green leaves of the trees were reflected in the water, giving it a teal tint, and the sun made the grains in the rocks sparkle. All of this gave the small area a truly ethereal look.

You were suddenly startled from your reverie by two hobbit-sized shapes crashing into you from above. While you had been admiring the scenery, Merry and Pippin had climbed onto the rocks to ambush you. Forcing your head underwater, they giggled as you came back up, gasping. Their amusement quickly turned to fear as you turned to them with a devilish glint in your eyes. You tackled them and smirked as their faces turned to twin looks of outrage. “What was that for?”

“You guys jumped me! I did what I had to do.” You leaned back in the water, very pleased with yourself as you heard a stifled chuckle from the nearby rocks.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you, Frodo?” Pippin was advancing on him now, looking comically angry. Merry grabbed him and whispered something in his ear that you couldn’t quite hear. Pippin nodded, his face turning serious.

“We should go back to the campsite, see if there’s any food.” Merry was now climbing onto the shore and tucking his shirt into his wet trousers.

“You just want to steal some of Sam’s stew before everyone else!” Pippin elbowed him. “And what if I do?” Merry set off running towards the campsite, Pippin following him with a curse and a shout of, “Now he’ll eat it all and there’ll be none left for me!”

You made your way onto the shore a bit more sedately. Once out of the water, you began shivering and hastened to get redressed. Frodo had looked away, blushing, when you climbed out of the water, and you teased him. “C’mon Frodo, everything important is covered!”

This was true, you had kept your wrappings over your chest on, as well as your other undergarments. “Still,” the hobbit kept his eyes averted as you tugged your tunic over your head, lacing it as you spoke, “it’s not proper.” You shook your head at him in pretend exasperation. “I’m decent, let us go see if Merry really did eat all the stew.”

Sitting around the fire with your companions, you would have been quite content had you still not been so cold. Sam’s stew had warmed you for a little while, but now you were hunched over in your still-damp clothes, shivering. “Are you all right, Y/N?” Legolas looked down at you from his perch on the log next to you, concern in his eyes. “Yes,” you nodded, teeth chattering. “Just cold.”

“Well, maybe Legolas could warm you up?” Aragorn winked at you.

“No!” you cried, and then leaned over and punched Aragorn’s arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” he exclaimed, but you just sat back, pleased with yourself, yet still shivering.

Legolas looked uncertain for a second, then wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to his warmth. You unconsciously pressed closer against him, drawn to the heat emanating from his body. As you did, he stiffened. He then jumped up, leaving you sitting there, confused as he made his way over to his pack. Grabbing something, he came back over and held it out to you.

“You’re freezing because your clothing is soaked!” He informed you and the group of this. “Yes, Legolas, I know. I’m the one wearing the soaked clothes.” You attempted to say this deadpan, but it was ruined by the clicking sound of your teeth chattering.

“Well, I was thinking- I don’t have pants that’ll fit you, but you can wear my tunic.” He blushed. “It might be a little large, but at least it’s dry.”

“Oh, no Legolas, I’m fine, really.” You didn’t want him to notice how you were nervously playing with your hair, something you always did when embarrassed.

“Really, Y/N. Take it.” He shook it at you, and, sighing, you stood and grabbed it out of his hand. “Thank you, Legolas.” You made your way to the edge of the campsite, grabbing a new set of wrappings for your breasts before disappearing into the forest to change.

Behind a tree, you lifted the damp tunic over your head and rewrapped your chest with practiced ease. You then pulled Legolas’ soft tunic on. It was rather large on you, falling a little lower on your legs than yours usually did. It hit your waist at a nice angle, however, accentuating it nicely. The real issue was the neckline. It had no laces and was much deeper than you usually wore, exposing a lot more skin than you were used to. After unsuccessfully trying to close the v-neck in some way, you gave up and just prayed no one would look too closely.

Walking back into the campsite, you draped your wet tunic over your pack, hoping it would dry overnight.

“I feel much warmer now, thank you.” You sat back down on the log next to Legolas. His eyes drifted across your body, taking in the sight of you in his clothes. “It looks good on you.” He blushed, and you tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear, feeling rather pleased by the compliment.

“Hey, lovebirds!” came a shout from across the fire. Boromir was sitting with Merry and Pippin and was unwrapping something encased in leaves. You quickly scooched apart from Legolas, fidgeting, and craned your neck to see what Boromir had.

“What is that?” Legolas was just as curious, and just as embarrassed.

“While you were all off doing stuff earlier, I went and gathered some berries!” Boromir finished unwrapping them and held them up triumphantly. You could see strawberries and blueberries spilling out onto the leaves, and licked your lips in anticipation. After taking a few, Boromir passed the pouch around the fire, and everyone took a couple. You bit into a strawberry, savoring the sweetness.

“These are delicious, thank you, Boromir.” Aragorn was trying to speak around a mouthful of blueberries, which just caused the blue juice to run down his chin. Soon, you were all giggling at each other devouring the fruit, not caring if any got on your faces. Even Gandalf had a streak of blue running into his long grey beard, a fact that amused Pippin greatly. Finished, you leaned back with a sigh, patting your stomach with satisfaction.

“Thank you, Boromir. Truly, they were a wonderful treat.”

“Happy to, Y/N!” And indeed he did look pleased to see everyone enjoying something he had done for them.

You made your way down to the waterfall, this time accompanied by the whole Fellowship except Gandalf, who had stayed behind to tend the fire. You all splashed water on your faces to clean them of the sticky berry residue. You were careful to just get your face wet, not wanting to dampen Legolas’ tunic, but even with just your face you still got really cold again. Shivering, you turned and walked back to the campsite, admiring the stars shining above the foliage.

Reaching the campsite, you walked over to your bedroll and dragged it closer to the fire. Not so close that people would be worried, but close enough that you could hopefully soak up the meager warmth as the flames dwindled into embers overnight. You climbed in under your blanket and curled up in a ball to preserve as much body heat as possible. Lulled by the crackling of the fire and the soft murmurs of your friends getting ready for the night, you drifted off to sleep, grateful that you weren’t on the watch list that night.

“Y/N. Wake up, it’s time to go.” You were shaken awake the next morning by Legolas, who smiled at you fondly before moving on to help pack up. Stretching, you sat up and immediately recoiled. Your head hurt. And you were cold. And also somehow hot. And you felt a tad bit woozy. But you were fine, you didn’t want to hold up the journey, so you gathered the courage and emerged from your bedding, rolling it up and packing it away as you hissed in discomfort.

Walking across the campsite, your arm was grabbed by Aragorn, who pulled you off to the side. “Are you ok? You look out of sorts.” It was true, you were shaking a little bit with chills, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, I’m completely fine, Aragorn. Don’t worry about me!” You faked a smile in an attempt to prove that you were, as you said, fine. Pulling your arm out of his grasp, you shouldered your pack and set off behind Boromir.

As the day went on, you felt fainter and fainter. One second you would feel like you were a furnace, the next you thought you’d never be warm again. It was taking all your energy to focus on simply putting one foot in front of the other, but you kept going, determined not to be the cause of any delays.

After you had stopped for lunch, Legolas drifted to the back of the group to walk with you. Noticing your shakiness earlier, he had decided to check on you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” His gaze met yours, and the touching concern in his eyes almost made you stumble, although to be fair anything could have made you stumble, you were so tired at this point.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Seriously, Legolas, I’m fi-” Your body finally gave up on you, and you passed out. The elf was not expecting this and tried to catch you as you fell, succeeding only in slowing you down so that you hit the ground gently, cradled in his arms. Feeling your forehead, he sucked in a breath of shock.

“She’s burning up.” He informed the rest of the Fellowship, who were all gathered around the two of you like a bunch of concerned mother hens.

“We cannot stop yet.” Aragorn looked worried.

“I will carry Y/N until we camp for the night.” Boromir volunteered. Had you been conscious, you would have protested being carried at all. You wouldn’t have cared who you were carried by. But someone else did.

“No, Boromir. I’ll carry her.” With this Legolas scooped you into his arms, startling Boromir with his determination. Aragorn just smirked. “Let us continue, then.” And they set off, you in Legolas’ arms, head resting against his chest.

Legolas heard Pippin softly asking Aragorn questions as they moved. “I don’t understand, why did Y/N catch a cold but we did not?”

“Hobbits are hardier folk than us humans. You can withstand much harsher conditions. It is why I did not join you in the water, and I have elvish blood, so it would not have been as bad for me as it is for Y/N.” The elf secretly did not know much about humans and their sicknesses, so he found this explanation rather helpful.

Legolas kept looking down at you, marveling at how, even sick, you looked so peaceful. You wore a faint smile as if you were having a pleasant dream.

“Legolas?” You whispered, squirming in his arms. He jolted at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” He brushed your hair out of your face and saw that your eyes were still closed. He figured it was just you having a dream about the Fellowship, his name just happened to be the one you mentioned. Then you spoke again.

“I love you, Legolas.” He stopped in shock as you shifted in his arms again.

“You love me too? That’s good.” You sighed, wiggling your nose in that cute way Legolas liked, head still resting against his chest.

The elf, meanwhile, was standing there. Dumbstruck, with you fast asleep in his arms, he stood there until an unsuspecting Gimli crashed into him from behind.

“Lad! Yeh don’t just stop in the middle of the path! Keep moving!”

Legolas was still too shocked to come up with a retort, so he silently stepped to the side, letting the dwarf pass. Aragorn was next but paused to get Legolas to keep walking. “Legolas. What is wrong? Do you grow weary of carrying Y/N?”

“No!” The elf turned away from Aragorn, fearing that the man would insist on taking you.

Aragorn backed up a step, hands in the air. “Very well then. If you are not tired, why are you so on edge?”

“Y/N was talking in her sleep.”

“So? What does that have to do with yo- Legolas, why are you blushing?!” The ranger looked very amused by the flushed elf. “What, exactly, did she say?”

“She, um, well- she said she loved me.” Legolas was trying very hard not to meet Aragorn’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Aragorn had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Well, that is wonderful news! Now the two of you can stop the ridiculous flirting and pining.”

“Aragorn- you do not think she could have meant it?” Legolas was now looking at his friend, and Aragorn could see the beginnings of hope in his eyes.

“Of course she meant it! She was having a dream, about you, and told you she loved you. How could it be any clearer?”

“Well, that’s just it. It was a dream. It probably did not mean anything.” As Legolas spoke, Aragorn saw him convince himself that it was not true. “Legolas.” The blond turned his head and looked Aragorn in the eyes.

“I believe that Y/N means what she said in that dream. I have seen it in the way she acts with you. If you do not, then I cannot convince you. But I will say- ask her about it when she wakes up. Just mention the dream.”

With that Aragorn sped up, leaving a conflicted, confused, and still blushing Legolas walking slowly at the back of the group.

“I think you should tell her,” came a voice from down near his elbow. Legolas’ gaze drifted down to focus on Merry, who had somehow appeared next to him while he was lost in thought. “Tell her what?” The elf tried to deny everything, but Merry wasn’t having it.

“Tell her that you love her!” The hobbit looked so earnest that Legolas couldn’t help but listen to him. Merry continued, “I know if I loved someone, I’d want them to know. Not even because we could lose our lives at any moment, just because I think they deserve it. It’s like in the old stories Mr. Bilbo used to tell. She deserves to know you love her, Legolas. Tell her before it’s too late.”

Struck by the serious set of the hobbit’s face, and emotions in his eyes, Legolas nodded. “All right then. I guess I’ll ask her tonight.” He looked nervous, but then his eyes drifted down to look upon your sleeping form, cradled in his arms, and his face softened.

“Don’t let Boromir or Gimli see you looking at her like that, though- they’ll think you’ve gone soft!” And with that, Merry bounded back up to walk with Pippin.

Legolas was again by himself (well, not entirely, you were still there, but that might not count because you were unconscious), left to mull over his thoughts. He had been bluffing with Merry, he was most certainly not going to ask you about your feelings for him that night, but reflecting on the hobbit’s words something struck him. You were all on a perilous quest, it would be better for you to know now. And he could just ask you about your dream, inquire after your sleep. He didn’t have to confess to anything unless you did- which he was sure wasn’t going to happen, who could love him? But it did sound like a decent plan, so he decided to go through with it.

Just as that thought of resolve crossed his brain, you stirred. Opening your eyes, you gazed blearily at the world around you until your gaze came to rest on the face above you.

Blinking, it came into focus. “Legolas? What- why are you carrying me? What happened?”

“You fainted, Y/N. We think you have a fever, you must have caught a cold from swimming yesterday.” He was still walking as he spoke.

“Ok. Well, thank you for carrying me. I can walk now.”

When he didn’t, you asked again. “I’m fine, Legolas. Really, put me down.”

He still refused to do so.

“Put me down, Legolas!”

Finally, he answered. “I will not. I will carry you until we camp tonight.”

Overhearing him, Aragorn called out back to you. “Well, it’s a good thing we just found a place to camp!”

“Frodo, would you mind grabbing me Y/N’s pack from Aragorn and just spreading out her bedroll so she can rest?” Legolas was walking over to a spot he thought you would like as he spoke. Frodo came over with your bedroll, laying it out on a nice, flat area of ground. As pleased as you were, you still had to protest.

“I do not need rest, Legolas. What I need is for you to put me down!”

Sensing that perhaps it was just best to do as you said, the elf gently eased you to your feet. The second you were standing, you started to feel dizzy, and the chills came back. You fell back into Legolas’ waiting arms, too tired to stand.

“Okay, fine, maybe I do need to rest.” You yawned as he lowered you onto your bedroll, tucking the blankets in around you. “But I don’t want to be here, away from everyone. Carry me over to sit around the fire.” You made a regal face as Legolas picked you back up. The fire was crackling in the center of the small clearing, and everyone else was gathered around as Sam served supper.

“So demanding,” he muttered under his breath, jokingly. “Oh!” You were playfully offended.

He set you down, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders before settling next to you. Sam passed you a bowl of stew, and you inhaled the scent of it.

“Rabbit and potato tonight?” You could always guess what was in it.

“How do you guess right every time?” Pippin was amazed.

“I guess I just have a refined, expert sense of smell,” you declared and dug into the delicious stew.

Sighing, you placed your bowl on the ground, empty, and leaned into Legolas’ side. He stiffened, surprised, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and drawing you closer to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you. Still tired, but I’m not as cold.”

He nodded and looked back at your companions around the fire. Who, in fact, were all staring at the two of you. Again. You scooched away from the elf, realized just how cold it was away from his arms, and promptly moved back closer to him, burying your face in his chest to titters from the group around you.

“Oh, shut up.” You didn’t care, Legolas was warm and you were cold, it was as simple as that. Nothing else. Or at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

Later that night, after you had wobbled back over to your bedroll with the help of Merry and Pippin each propping you up on one side, you lay there, unable to sleep. You didn’t understand why- you were very tired, you just couldn’t sleep. Your tossing and turning must have caught the attention of the person, or rather, elf, on watch, as he came over and sat down next to you.

“Are you okay?” He looked worried.

“Fine. I just can't seem to fall asleep.” You sat up, now at eye level with the blond archer.

“Ah. Well, unfortunately, I do not know how to get you to sleep, but I can keep you company if that is all right.” You nodded, and the two of you sat there, looking up at the stars glowing in the sky, framed like a portrait by the foliage of the trees surrounding the clearing.

After a while, he spoke again. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You nodded.

“What were you dreaming about earlier?”

You tucked your hair behind your ear, embarrassed as you recalled the dream from earlier where you and Legolas had fallen in love. Deciding that denial was the best course of action here, you spoke. “I did not dream.”

“Y/N. You were talking in your sleep.”

Uh oh.

“What did I say?”

Now he was blushing. You internally prepared yourself for whatever embarrassing thing he was about to say, ready to deny your feelings.

“You, um… well, you said you loved me.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Legolas. It was just a silly, dream, it meant nothing, I don’t feel that way about you at all…” Babbling, your eyes went back to his face, unprepared for the depth of disappointment in his eyes and the sadness written there.

“You truly do not feel like that?”

After seeing his face, feeling the emotion conveyed in his voice, a small flame of hope lit in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you decided to be brave.

You took his hand, entwining your fingers with his as you took a deep breath. “I lied, Legolas. I love you.”

You saw the shock on his face. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, we can never speak of it again. We can go back to normal, this doesn’t have to be a big deal.” Your babbling was cut off by the elf.

“Y/N. I love you. Totally and completely, with every fiber of my being, I love you.”

Shyly, you reached your hand out and brushed his cheek.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s good.”

He laughed. “You said that after I told you in your dream!”

“I did?”

He nodded. “Now, let’s see if you can get some sleep. It’s late.”

He moved so that you were between his legs, head resting on his chest as he leaned up against a rock. You snuggled in close, and he began rubbing circles on your shoulder. He began to softly hum, a tune you did not recognize but liked just the same. Lulled by his soft voice and the motions of his hands, you drifted into a deep, wonderful sleep.

Legolas sat there, you in his arms, marveling at the turn of events. A movement from Aragorn’s bedroll startled him, but he made sure not to wake you up. The ranger sat up, facing him.

“I told you so.” Aragorn winked at him, looking mightily pleased with himself.

“Well, now that you’re awake, you might as well begin your shift of watch!” Legolas looked triumphant and watched as the ranger sighed and rose, moving over to sit on a boulder that overlooked the whole camp.

“Get some sleep, Legolas,” Aragorn advised.

Careful to not wake you, Legolas moved so that he was lying next to you, arm wrapped around your waist and chin resting just above your head. He sighed and felt himself slowly drift off to join you, his beloved, in the land of sleep.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @hey-its-nonny

Legolas tag: @sheriffgerard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl

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myonepiece · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I love everything you do, its so good and i've read every single one :P ! I just want to know if you can do something with zoro, law and sanji with s/o who is scare of the dark please :D

Zoro, Law, Sanji reaction to their crush asking to sleep with them because they’re scared of the dark

description: the crew (of each character separately) is camping on an island because it was dangerous to go back to the boat now or something like that, and their crush asks to sleep with them because they’re afraid of the dark

warnings: none

a/n: I know you said s/o but I had this cute idea and I thought crush worked better than s/o so I hope thats okay 💕

wc: 1594

*Law and Sanji under the cut

♡ Zoro

the crew had set up camp in a clearing in the forest, making a campfire and setting out a few sleeping bags they had picked up. you were already dreading sleep on account of all of the trees surrounding, the way they already cast shadows around the ground and didn’t show what was lurking in the far branches.

Sanji cooked some barbeque and Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper danced around the fire for awhile. it was truly and enjoyable night, but when the sun began to descend you moved closer to the fire, trying to stay in the light as much as possible.

Zoro, who had been watching you throughout the night, noticed this but he thought it was because you were cold by the way you hugged your kees to your chest.

the crew eventually said goodnight and fell asleep, leaving you shaking by the fire and Zoro leaned against the tree behind you.

when you moved even closer to the fire Zoro got worried.

“oi ______, don’t get to close or you’ll burn yourself.”

you didn’t respond, or even look back- so Zoro got up and walked over to you, crouching beside you and poking your arm. you jumped at the contact, startled by Zoro’s sudden appearance next to you.

“ah Zoro you scared me, aren’t you going to bed?”

“mhm, are you?”

“I’m going to stay awake for a bit longer.”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, noticing the way you shivered in the heat of the flames, the way your eyes held waves of fear, clearly you were unsettled.

“what’s wrong?”

you glanced to you side at Zoro, the fire making shadows dance across his face.

“nothing really, I’m just kind of afraid of the dark.”

you chuckled half-heartedly but Zoro frowned. he wasn’t going to judge you or anything, he knows people have different fears and the dark is a common one.

“is there anything I can do?”

Zoro’s own cheeks heated at the suggestion, and yours soon followed with a soft smile towards the swordsman.

“no it’s okay, you can go to sleep.”

he stared at you for another second before humming in acceptance, rising to his full height and turning around as he walked back to the tree he was sleeping against, a flicker of movement in the trees caught your eye and made your heart beat spike.

“Zoro.”

the man looked over his shoulder at the call of his name, you were shaking more visibly and your eyes were wide trained on the dark between the plants on the other side of the clearing- the sight of you so scared pulled at his heart.

“can- can I sleep with you tonight?”

you looked over you shoulder at him with a deeper blush on your cheeks, but Zoro wouldn’t say anything because he had the same but even more so.

“sure.”

he didn’t even have to think about it, only needing a moment to comprehend that his crush asked to sleep with him- and this meant you felt safe with him right?

he dropped down against the tree and patted the spot next to him as he leaned his head back. you got up from your spot reluctantly, hurrying over to Zoro and sitting beside him, instantly curling into his side.

he had his arms crossed then, to flustered and shy to put one around you even though he knew you would probably appreciate it- but when you leaned your head on his shoulder he rested his cheek on top of it.

and further, when you woke up the next morning Zoro had arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you closer against his side, he had moved it in the night once he knew you were peacefully asleep meaning he could let himself sleep too.

♡ Law

the crew was sprawled out across the clearing a fire burning in the center.

the moment Law announced you wouldn’t be able to get to the ship at this time you started to feel anxious, worried about where you would be sleeping. and when you found out you would be camping, in the dark, your anxiety built up.

the change in your exterior and attitude was quickly noticed by Law. he kept an eye on you the whole time the crew was setting up, watching the way you were simultaneously paranoid but more distracted than usual. he saw you check around the surroundings but he didn’t know what for.

when the sun began to set and you took a spot close to the fire he still didn’t know exactly what was wrong but he was getting worried- there were no visible wounds on you and you didn’t seem to be in pain, just scared.

he couldn’t sleep when the rest of the crew did, and he didn’t want to either because you seemed to be even more afraid than earlier. when he saw you stay practically attached to the fire and glance worriedly at the enclosing darkness, he finally figured out the problem.

he got up from his seat leaning against sleeping Bepo, carefully moving around the bodies of his crew and towards you. he called your name before he reached so he wouldn’t scare you with an unexpected appearance. he saw you jump at the sound and your head whipped around.

Law came closer and dropped down beside you, staring intently at you before bluntly saying,

“you’re scared of the dark.”

your cheeks heated at the embarrassing fear that he had realized, you nodded and faced the flames again.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s silly.”

“no it’s not, it’s common.”

you looked at Law who was still watching you and you smiled softly giving him some relief that you were feelings even slightly better.

“is there anything I can do to help you sleep tonight?”

“can I... can I sleep you?”

you saw Law tense and his eyes widened, a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“it’s okay if you don’t want me to I can jus-”

“you can.”

Law stood up and outstretched his hand down to you, taking it gently and pulling you up to lead you back through the sleeping crewmembers and to Bepo’s side. he sat down against the bear and gestured to the spot next to him. you sat down and an awkward silence filled the air.

“you can put your head on my lap if that’s more comfortable...”

you barely heard Law’s mumbling but you moved over slightly so you could extend your legs and place your head on Law’s legs. it took a few minutes before he relaxed beneath you, his hand slowly going to rest on your head. he began to softly stroke you hair, lulling you to sleep while he kept an eye on your face to look for any sign of fear or discomfort.

♡ Sanji

the whole crew was excited for camping, having a few games already planned and Sanji had plenty of food to make barbecue- you were the only one on edge about sleeping in the forest surrounded by who knows what.

everyone was distracted by their excitement so no known noticed the change in your demeanor.

you partook in the games and the dancing and everything with the hope of tiring yourself out or at least distracting your self.

when the sun was setting and while everyone was eating the delicious food Sanji had made, the cook was watching you while you took your first bite, waiting for your opinion. you took a bite and smiled up at him, telling him it was delicious- this is when he noticed something was up because usually you were more enthusiastic about his cooking. he frowned slightly and crouched down beside you with a concerned expression.

“_____-swan is something wrong?”

you sent him a quick glance,

“I just have a... a small irrational fear of the dark.”

Sanji nearly fainted at your cute innocent fear, but he didn’t think that would make you feel very good.

“that’s not irrational, fear of the dark is very common it’s nothing you should be ashamed of.”

he smiled softly at you.

“is there anything I can do make you feel better?”

“do you think... do you think I could sleep with you tonight?”

the amount of self control nd willpower it took to not squeal was overwhelming. his grin widened greatly and he nodded happily.

“awh of course _____-swan! I’ll put the dishes away and then we can sleep!”

once he was done putting the ingredients and dishes away, making sure everyone was satisfied and Luffy couldn’t reach anything, and saying goodnight to everyone as they fell asleep, he pranced back over to where you sat against a fallen tree with your knees pulled to your chest and your head resting on your arms.

“oh ____-swan I’m sorry I took so long!”

he gently took your hands in his and took a seat beside you. you took your hands from Sanji and settled into his side, assuring him it’s okay. despite being in the edge of the fire’s light and beside Sanji, you were still visibly shaking. Sanji looked down and pouted at your scared form, feeling his heart clench.

“can I hold you _____-swan?

you looked up at the blushing cook, nodding at him and sitting forward momentarily so he could slip his arm behind you. he turned in his seat so that you were leaning your head against his chest- he slowly rocked back and forth while you drifted off to sleep, but not before he promised to protect you while you slept.

#one piece #one piece imagine #zoro x reader #zoro imagine #sanji x reader #sanji imagine #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law imagines #trafalgar law imagine

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berestweys · 2 years ago

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Kinnporsche Rewatch - Episode 6

Summary: Fish lose their lives in tragic attack from above. Again.

Favorite Line: “Fire and I belong together. Polite but hot. Have you heard it? My slogan.”

Porsche’s Wacky Antics: Calls Kinn a moron. Keeps his lighter to himself while Kinn bangs two rocks together. Wrestles with Kinn in a creek bed. Teaches Kinn to make a spear. Reveals he’s terrified of ghosts and the dead. Throws a knife and hits a guy smack in the back of the head in the dark.

Why is Chay crying? He ain’t here.

Woe is Big: Blames himself for Khun Kinn getting kidnapped and lost in the woods, because he should have been there to protect him. Makes the mistake of sharing this with Chan, who barks at him to get back to searching and stop getting distracted by his dumb feelings. Poor Big. (Incidentally, while Big seems impervious to Chan because he’s blinded by the light of Kinn, does anyone else get the sense that Chan gets irritated with Big in a rather pointed way? If Big bothered to take off his Kinn-colored glasses he might notice that he’s had an admirer all along.)

Tankhun Highlight: Tankhun is at home rearranging his throw pillows, not out in the woods with everyone else. Kinn confesses he sometimes wonders if Tankhun is faking being crazy so he doesn’t have to be the heir. Porsche is quick to say, no yeah, kids can absolutely be traumatized like that. Heyooooo.

A Woman Speaks: Women don’t exist in the forest.

What’s Pete eating, and who prepared it for him? DRUMROLL PLEASE. He’s eating bread, gifted to him by VEGAS. I have begun yelling.

Vegas Report: Vegas is hanging out with Macau, minding his own business, wearing the hell out of a wine-red velvet shirt. He has never done one thing wrong in his entire life. I know this and I love him. He takes the opportunity to scare the shit out of Pete, who is. Not great at spying. Gives Pete and Pol bread, mosquito repellant, and oops, those condoms were for me, not you, Pete. Unless… do you want to share them with me?

Shipping Activities

KinnPorsche: Trapped together in the wilderness, they use “the bodyguards’ rule” to make decisions. Rock paper scissors! This episode is so fucking funny on second watch, knowing Kinn could have unlocked the cuffs at any time after Porsche finds the knife. But he doesn’t. Because he likes being stuck in the woods chained to Porsche. Porsche tells Kinn he’s pretty when he smiles. They make an actual pinky promise & share their life dreams. Kinn tries to fake Porsche’s death for him. Porsche can’t leave him in danger. Kinn dives between Porsche and a bullet once again. It’s marriage.

VegasPete: Pete pretends to make out with Pol in an effort to avoid being spotted spying on Vegas during Spy Mission Number One. Vegas in turn offers courting gifts. The range of emotions Pete displays in this scene is more than one person can handle. Vegas says, and I quote, “I’m afraid you might get hungry.” THE DANCE BEGINS. HUZZAHHHHHHH

Do I care about KimChay yet? No. They are mercifully absent.

# of KimChay scenes in this episode: 0

# of KimChay scenes I watched without skipping through: 0

Kisses: Waterfall kisses are delightful, and mark the first time Porsche is sober for kissing. And later we get possibly the best KP kiss of the series: Porsche grabbing Kinn and wrapping himself around him as he gets ready to depart. He kisses him with his entire body. That moment feels real. Like, REAL.

Tits Out: Kinn and Porsche, swimming in the waterfall pool.

What’s Gun wearing? Unclear. Ask again later.

Serious Observations of Various Sorts: I offer many bows of thanks to the show for the frank discussion between Porsche and Kinn about the night they had sex, and Kinn offering a sincere apology. It’s not often we get to see characters being painfully honest, ashamed, vulnerable, and stumbling their way through saying things that really cannot go unsaid.

Have I calmed down? Oh hell no. We are deep in it now and I am increasingly manic.

Episode 1/ Episode 2/ Episode 3/ Episode 4/ Episode 5/ Episode 7

#kinnporsche rewatch #kinnporsche #spoilers

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loup-warrrior93 · 2 years ago

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You got that crown, baby, don't give it up now

Oh-na-na-na, say it loud

Runnin' that shit like a goddess

They call me the fire breathin' dragon that nobody can slay

Athena in the beamer blow 'em all away

Raja Kumari, daughter of the king

Royal like I'm Xena, better bow down and kiss the ring

You know this, I'm here to get ya goin'

I know you feel the rhythm levitatin', got you floatin'

So you can light the fire, go deeper than the ocean

My body is a temple, baby, show me your devotion

(art commissioned from the ever-lovely artsy-hobbitses . Thank you so much for this, deary!!)

(Set in the RiD15 universe but still a Human-formers rp thing)

Daughter of PredaKing, to be precise.

Ever since she can remember, Cassía/'Wildcat' knew she wanted to be the next PredaKing (not a Princess!). She knows the Predacons have remained hidden for so long for their own safety to be avoid being furthered slaughtered/hunted by both humans and Bots alike, but her hope and goal when she takes up the PredaKing mantle is to bring forth the her Brethren from the shadows.

“We are Predacons! Strong, Enduring, and Defiant! I will not remain in the shadows while the World continues to turn a blind eye, and neither will our people!”

Cassía was born into secrecy after the fallout of the War and what happened between Predaking and Megatron.

Many believed Predaking to be DEAD after said fall out.

No one anticipated that he would survive, or that he would indeed take up the mantle as THE PredaKing to all Predacons that were in hiding around the world, or that he had a human mate who blessed him a daughter with such a strong and fierce spirit to match his own.

Raised deep heart of the Amazon River basin and away from the scrutiny of others, Cassía was by no means raised delicately. Predaking made sure that she would know HOW to fight and how to survive as not only as a Predacon, but as his Heir; This did not put a damper on her sweet and nurturing side. Rather it fueled her protective and already fiery personality which she demonstrates in the clear mastery of her Jaguar heritage (many of the remaining Predacon Elders believed since Predaking was revived/cloned from the Dead, that it was only natural his firstborn would display such a miracle). Growing up with other Predacons in her hidden rainforest village that would later become her Knights and brothers, she’s a force to be reckoned with her stature of a 6’ even stature, solid build, and Capoeria Martial Arts. Thanks to her Jaguar heritage, her mentality, mannerisms, personality, and abilities are that of the afore mentioned jungle cat.

Unfortunately, such blissful times couldn’t last long for her and her family.

On the eve of her birthday, her village was raided by hired mercenaries, both Bot and Human. Her and her father worked to protect their now-burning home while everyone fled into the forest, unfortunately it wasn’t enough.

Cassía along with a few other Predacons were captured and taken aboard a ship bound for the Quintesson’s lair, and even the journey there was no less agonizing.

The Predacons were not the sole captives of that forsaken ship, but they endured the harshest of experiments and treatments. Cassía especially so as she should the highest enduring points and their Quintesson Captain knew they had the Heir to the Predacon Kingdom in their grasps. If they could control her, then one of the greatest weapons would be at their command. As the result of her captivity, Cassía now has scars on her wrists from where her cuffs chaffed and cut at her from all the yanking she did on her restraints.

Though much like her father, she rallied the other prisoners against their captors and took the ship, taking down all who had a hand in their torture.

Unfortunately, this left Cassía and the remaining survivors with a decrepitude ship that was barely able to go 10 knots and it wasn’t for some time until the Autobot enforcer ship, New Ranger, stumbled upon this seemingly tattered ghost ship….

#humanformers #rid15 #oc #tf oc #maccadam

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yourmcu · 4 years ago

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Mesmerized (iii)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 2,138

A/n: notes at the end

Warnings: crash, mentions of explosion, swearing, space mission, soft!nat, quill’s a jerk

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Your departure from Earth made its one-year mark.

Natasha hasn’t felt like herself since you left. She’s known you for a few months but it felt like ages, it felt like she knew everything about you from the amount of time you spent together.

It’s not like you had a choice. The guardians needed you and of course you’re gonna be there for them too. They saved your ass countless of time and, well, they’re your family.

“Shit!”

Natasha frowns, leaning forward a bit from her sitting position. “What’s wrong?”

You fail to respond back. You curse once more in realization that you had no more ammo left in your guns, using your fire conjuring abilities is risky in this situation too, given on what type of creatures you're fighting.

Rocket is still determined to fight but you know he’s not gonna make it alive so you pick him up and sprint to your ship.

“I had it under control!” The raccoon yells.

“You’re kidding, right? The others already left!” You boom, fiddling with the buttons and levers of the ship to try and start it. The rattling of the monsters behind getting you frazzled. “Fucking-”

“Out of the way before you burn the controls, I got it.”

You go to the back part of the ship to reload all your weapons. You sigh in relief when Rocket managed to start the ship.

The mission went horribly wrong. People died and you were outnumbered. You almost set Groot on fire because of how overwhelmed you were, the fact that Quill was expressing how pissed he was at you didn’t help. Usually the team had every mission handled and sorted. You weren’t used to losing.

And you forgot Natasha is still connected to the call.

She just listens further. It's more silent than earlier so she figured you got away from whatever happened, but she's ready to try and help whatever it takes even though she's a thousand miles away.

“Quill’s not responding,” you frown, frantically searching the back of the ship for the backup weapons. “He must’ve turned his comms off. Can you contact the other ship there?”

“No, offline,” Rocket mumbles, more focused on getting the ship moving. “But geez, you and him have to sort things out.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Save it, we’re still being followed!” Rocket swerves in attempt to knock off the creatures - who're still actively chasing the spaceship. They could fly, and there are a lot. You couldn’t imagine anything like it.

You try your best to fight them off through the spacious hatch on top, but of course you have no match for all of them. You wish Thor was here. As far as you knew he's sorting Asgard things out with Valkyrie.

Every minute just gets worse. The flight gets unstable the more those creatures are catching up, you're surprised they're so determined to destroy both of you.

“Can you go any faster?!”

“I can’t, can I?!” Rocket's driving and pressing multiple buttons for the jump at the same time.

“Y/N,” Natasha calls out, hoping you could still hear her. “I can tell the team if you need any help-”

On your end, she just got more blasters and guns going off, orders flying between you and the raccoon.

“We need to shake them off, this ship’s not gonna handle them,” You say exasperated. “I’m gonna cause a distraction, got it? You need to get us out of here - anywhere - I don’t care how many jumps it takes!”

Rocket, as rare as it is, displays concern in his face, but he sighs and grips on the levers. “Ready when you are.”

You suck in a breath, letting out a huge burst of what seems like fire and just - heat, aiming at the creatures closest to the ship. It gets nearly all of them. The raccoon mutters a quick countdown, watching you fall unconscious from the hatch in the corner of his eye. He pushes the lever forward slowly, jumping to the one place he knows the both of you could get help.

Earth.

As soon as you let yourself go, Natasha loses the connection. The intensity of you using your powers like that might’ve affected it.

“God,” she mutters, pacing around her table, “Friday, you still have contact on that ship?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff,” the A.I responds, and for a moment, a huge explosion sounded somewhere in the forest near the compound. “...and they just landed. Would you like me to send you the exact coordinates?”

Of course Natasha doesn’t waste time to go out and find you. Thankfully Steve is around and was shaken by the sudden explosion too. It’s snowing, the forest covered with thick snow so it wouldn’t be hard to find wherever the ship crashed.

“She’ll be alright, Nat. We’ll find her.” Steve reassures.

Natasha’s breath hitches at the sight of the aircraft completely destroyed, pieces everywhere, she wasted no time to find you under all the rubble.

The unconscious raccoon isn’t hard to find, but you had it worse considering you were already out before the crash.

“Steve,” she states, walking over scraps and metal to get to you. You're sickly pale, giving Natasha the feeling that she's too late but she did feel a slight pulse. There’s blood on the side of your forehead but other than that,

“She’s freezing,” and it isn’t from the snow alone, she thought. You're colder than that. Natasha has an arm around your back and behind your knees, getting ready to carry you. “Steve, we-”

“I’ll call Bruce to get them sorted out. Try and find their stuff that’s not destroyed.” His tone is firm. He doesn’t wait for a response, gently grabbing you from her and strides back to the compound.

Natasha sighs. Almost everything she sees is unrecognizable except for a few complicated looking guns that definitely looks like Rocket’s and your bag you took on one of your dates. Biting the inside of her cheek, she opens it, sighing in relief when everything inside looked in order.

She finds a wallet-sized picture of both of you at a fair's photo booth. You always held onto it and kept it in your pocket most of the time that's why it looks worn out, probably from you holding it so much. This makes Natasha's heart ache, deciding to keep it for the meantime, carrying all your stuff that's left to the compound.

- You wake with a start. You're facing the clean white ceiling of the Avengers' med bay and you tilt your head to the side to see Natasha sleeping on a stool beside your bed with her head lulling forward and her arms are crossed. As much as you feel relieved to see her, you're confused on how you got here, how she found you. You lift your arm to gently pat the redhead awake. She sighs and goes to rub her neck. "You're cold." You smile softly, cringing at the rasp of your voice. "Didn't want you to be sore from the way you were sleeping." "I'm glad you're awake." "How long was I out?" Natasha gets up to get you a glass of water while you sit up the bed. "Twelve hours. You definitely needed the rest, everything sounded really crazy up there," she says. "Rocket's somewhere around, he left his bed the moment he got up." She hands you the glass and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. Feeling how cold you still are since they found you in the forest, she grabs a remote to crank the heater up a bit. You purse your lips and cross your legs, looking at her. "How'd you find us?" "Let's just say we heard the impact of the crash from here," Natasha eyes the bandages on the side of your head for a moment. "It was really lucky your ship crashed nearby, but you know I wouldn't hesitate to get on the jet just to find you. And when I did, I... I thought you were-"

Your hand immediately goes to cup her cheek, the contrast of warm and cold making Natasha relax in your touch. "I'm here now. You saved me." She returns your smile and holds onto your hand on her cheek. "I missed you." "I missed you too." "You know, I did specifically set those coordinates," Rocket says as he enters the room with Tony. "Technically I saved us." Your smile only widens and Natasha chuckles, turning to Tony to see what he has to say about your condition. "You really wore yourself out there fireball, is she still freezing cold?" He asks this to Natasha specifically and she nods. You furrow your eyebrows and turn to your fists, clenching them, only noticing now that you are freezing. "I'm gonna run a simple test and if all goes as expected, Bruce is gonna give you a shot." "Have you already got a conclusion on what happened to me?" You question. Tony pulls out something from his pocket. "Sure have. Now set this on fire." He tosses you a solid crumpled paper. Holding it between three fingers you expect it to turn into ash in your palm, but it stayed the way it is. You're looking at it now to help focus on setting it on fire but it still stayed as normal paper. Natasha grips you on the arm. "I think that's enough." "You went all out with your powers. I did see you let out an overwhelming amount when we were trying to outrun those creatures before you passed out." Rocket states. "Naturally it'll come back, but the shot should help you with your... body temperature and hopefully the speed of recovery." Tony adds. You groan, back landing on the pillow behind you. Not only does losing your powers suck but you aren't a big fan of needles either, but you'll deal with them if you really have to. Natasha's hand slowly crawls up to intertwine with yours, although her attention was still on Tony. "She's gonna have to stay here at least until she recovers, right?" She also looks at Rocket if he has any objections but he merely nods his head. "'Course, they're welcome here for as long as they want." Tony claps his hands together and dismisses himself, Rocket following behind. "In the meantime I'll be figuring out a way to build a new ship." The raccoon says before closing the door behind him. Natasha makes her way to sit beside you and you automatically scooch to make space and rest your head against her shoulder, taking a breath. "You alright?" You shrug. "I guess I do feel pretty useless without those powers. I mean, Quill without a doubt would never let me go on missions anymore. I'd just be a burden to everyone." She lets go of your hand to put around you. "Everything doesn't revolve around your powers, Y/N. You're not useless. I bet you could take that Quill guy down in a fist fight." You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. "What's that guy like anyway?" The sudden question makes your head perk up. "Oh, you know, Quill, he's a nice guy-" Natasha let out a noise, cutting you off. "Didn't sound like it while I was connected in the call." "He can be a mouthful to me sometimes," you admit quietly. "Not to everyone though, I do generally think he's a nice guy. I have no idea what I did that made him so pissed at me." You look up at her and she's staring at the wall, seeming like she's deep in thought. "He doesn't hurt you, does he?" "God, no. He's not like that," you say. "If he did want to of course I wouldn't just take it." Natasha smiles, "that's my girl." You hung your head low so she couldn't see the way you flushed at the phrase, biting your lip to hold in a smile. “I’m glad you have my back, though.”

“I always do. Always will.”

"So, when can I leave this room?"

"After Bruce gives you the shot, then we can do whatever we want." She tilts your head up to move your hair out of your face. You look at her with an amused expression, "where do you plan on taking me this time?” Natasha smirks at the question. She loves spending all her time with you and the sight of you enjoying yourself makes it better. "There’s a new bookstore open, thought you might like it. Also an amusement park. It’s a few hours away but I can always drive. Oh, Tony’s cabin. I’m sure he’d love you to meet his newborn Morgan.”

“Sounds like you have a list,” you muse.

Natasha hums, pulling you closer. “I do.”

final one!! no one’s really looking forward to this but I enjoyed writing it anyway :)

btw wrote this way before thor: love and thunder so i have no idea what him and the guardians are up to but i wish them the best

[shameless plug] check out this natasha ambience i made some people thought it was cool

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 22

Hannibal and y/n arrive at Camp Big Brother and receive an unusual greeting.

@dovahdokren @deadman-inc-bikeshop @lov3vivian @wisesandwichshark @scpdragon

Trigger warnings: guns, threats of violence, cult stuff, brief mention of North Korea

The car ride up to the mountain introduced you to a new feeling. You thought it similar to that of prisoners on their way to be executed. The comfortable numbness of accepting your rapidly-approaching demise.

The road only brought you so far. It turned into a dirt path, which then turned into just the imprint of tire tracks. Your car wasn’t equipped for mountainous terrain, so you had to get out and walk. You weren’t ill-prepared for a hike; you made a point to change clothes before leaving the house, and your work shoes were worn-in enough to withstand a trek through the forest. You only feared losing one of your gloves.

It was Hannibal you were worried about. You’d never seen him in anything but a full three-piece suit and today was no exception. He’d taken off his jacket and vest, but having to hike in suit pants and dress shoes was far from ideal.

You were in the middle of a game of ‘how many 12 gauge bullets can I fit on my person’ when you heard the rumbling of an ATV coming down the track. You loaded a shell into the gun and watched it turn the corner and stop in front of you. Hannibal stood behind you, looking dignified as ever.

The driver dismounted the vehicle and took off their helmet. The woman beneath the helmet looked like she’d either lived a hard 20 years or an easy 50 years. You didn’t pay much attention to her face. She looked nourished and had a head full of hair, so she wasn’t one of Chase’s slaves.

“Are you ‘prefect’?” You asked, squinting at her from behind the gun. “Or ‘Aunt Lydia’?”

“You must be [F/N] [L/N].” The woman said. “Vanguard sent me to pick you up, but didn’t say anything about a guest.”

“What’s to stop me from blasting your head off, taking that ATV and going up there myself?” You spat.

The woman disregarded your question. She pulled a walkie-talkie from her belt and clicked it on. “Vanguard, [L/N] is here and she brought a friend.”

The device crackled, then Chase spoke. “Is it a cop?”

The woman scanned Hannibal up and down. “No.”

“Let her off with a warning, then.” Chase instructed. “She knew the rules.”

“You heard the man.” She pulled a pistol from her holster and pointed it at Hannibal with full intentions to shoot him dead. He put his hands behind his head, but didn’t seem at all fazed.

You aimed the gun at the woman’s head. “I don’t think you want to do that.”

“Don’t waste your ammo, love.” Hannibal said to you. “She’s obviously bluffing.”

“You want to find out?” She pulled the hammer back.

“Hannibal, she’s not bluffing!” Your voice started to shake.

“Yes she is, darling.” He insisted. “Nobody would be stupid enough to fire off a shot this close to an active naval base.”

She lowered her pistol. “What are you talking about, there’s no military base up here.”

“Of course there is.” He refuted. “Camp David is within a few miles of here.”

For a moment, she looked genuinely fearful. You thought you saw her cult mask begin to slip as she remembered that there was a world outside of the one Chase cultivated.

“Oh.” Hannibal feigned surprise. “That is, unless, Chase Mulvaney didn’t tell you.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “I’m his right-hand woman, he tells me everything.”

Hannibal clicked his tongue. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it seems he sees you as just as disposable as Catherine Miller. He sent you down here to kill anyone [F/N] brought along with her, catching the attention of the military personnel on base and ultimately throwing you under the bus.”

“He wouldn’t.” She snapped. “Chase loves me like a sister.”

“I’ll bet that’s what he tells the other girls.” You commented.

Judging by the look on her face, you were right. And you struck a nerve.

“But, if you are so inclined to do Chase’s dirty work for him,” Hannibal said, loosening his collar. “At least try not to get blood on my suit pants.”

She held the gun out for a few moments, then dropped it. “He would want to kill you himself.”

“That’s more like it.” You said, mounting the vehicle with your gun slung over your back.

“Vanguard doesn’t mind two armed strangers on his property?” Hannibal asked, having to yell over the revving of the engine.

The woman scoffed. “It doesn’t make any difference. Bullets don’t work on Vanguard.”

You furrowed your brow. “What?”

“Vanguard is blessed with the armor of Christ.” She said, with 100% conviction. There wasn’t a trace of irony or sarcasm in her voice. “No bullets can pierce his earthly flesh.”

“Do you actually believe what you’re saying, or is this all some kind of fucked-up extended metaphor?” You asked.

“Vanguard proved it in chapel.” She insisted. “He fired a gun at his chest and it didn’t puncture him! The bullet just crumpled against his chest.”

“Wow.” You said, flatly. This person’s rationality was so scrubbed away, she could be fooled by even the lamest of magic tricks.

“The people of North Korea believe that Kim-Jong Il is responsible for inventing the hamburger.” Hannibal whispered to you. “Because they don’t have access to any information that proves otherwise.”

“Yeah, we’re about to ‘prove otherwise’ alright.” You muttered back with a smile.

After a few minutes, the outline of a building appeared. As you grew closer, you saw a cheaply-constructed cabin made for quantity, not quality. Next to it was a chapel, but it was only identifiable as such because of the massive cross. With industrial metal siding and no visible windows, it resembled a bomb shelter.

The woman unceremoniously dumped you both off the ATV at an opening in the razor wire fence.

"Morning devotional is at eight." She explained. "You'll hear the bell ring. You'll be expected to attend, of course."

"I don't give a shit what you expect." You shook your head. "I don't owe you fucks anything."

"But you owe Jesus everything." She said, matter-of-factually.

“What in the Midsommar fuck is this?” You said, squinting in the early daylight.

“Come on.” Hannibal took your gloved hand in his. “Let’s find our Will.”

The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains off in the distance, coloring the sky as red as the blood on Chase's hands.

"It's going to be light soon." Hannibal whispered. "We only have so long before people start to wake up."

"So where do we check first?" You asked.

"At eight, the chapel will be full and the cabin will be empty." Hannibal pointed out. "That gives us fifteen minutes to search the chapel until people start filing in."

You nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

You snuck towards the entrance to the chapel and crept inside without a sound. One look and you knew you had a lot of ground to cover in only fifteen minutes.

The chapel looked like the inside of a shipping container. You knew that growing up Catholic gave you a certain image of how church should look, but this was hardly a structure, let alone a place of worship. Much like the outside, the only feature that identified this building as a church was the massive cross, which was not even mounted on the wall or suspended from the ceiling. It just laid lazily against the back wall. A couple of folding tables with some linens draped over them made up a bare-bones altar, decorated with nothing but a couple of candles. The high windows gave the chilling feeling that the room was underground.

"You'd think with ninety million dollars, they could afford some real chairs." You commented, looking disgustedly at the rows of folding chairs.

"This isn't a summer camp." Hannibal observed. "This is a military base."

Your foot hit a loose tile on the ground. You took a knee and grabbed it. A whole patch of tiles lifted with it, revealing a small secret door.

“I think you might be on to something.” You said, looking up at Hannibal.

You slung your gun over your back and carefully descended the ladder while Hannibal kept watch.

“It’s dark down here.” You called up. You heard the striking of a match and Hannibal handed you a lit candle. You were about to thank him when the sharp tones of a bell cut through the silence.

“Shit.” You cursed. “Hannibal, close the hatch.”

“I’m not going to leave you.” Hannibal’s voice hardened.

“This bunker is narrow as Christ’s asshole.” You said. “I can handle it. You need to investigate the cabin.”

“Darling-”

“Go to the cabin. Now.” You demanded. “I’m not asking.”

Hannibal smiled down at you, feeling a sense of pride. He knelt down beside the trap door, and reached for your hand. He removed your glove and pressed his lips against your skin. “Godspeed, my indulgence.”

You saluted. “And also with you.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #the sommelier #will graham #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x reader #will graham x reader #will graham x you #catholic humor #can y'all tell i'm an excat #the lord be with you #and also with you

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masterthespianduchovny · 3 years ago

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I’m going to be honest before I get to the Sam/Rebecca subplot: if they drop plots threads indicating that this continue into the next season and uplift this pairing, I’m out.

This storyline is gross and I can see why some people quit the show when the revealed happened.

When I say I’m repulsed by age gap relationships of this nature, this isn’t a shipping thing or a race thing. This is a moral and ethical thing. Because it’s not just an age gap, it’s also that Rebecca is Sam’s boss. I legitimately don’t see how people can overlook this and ship how “cute” this is. I’m not judging anyone, it just genuinely doesn’t make sense to me.

And for people who think I’m a hypocrite, Ted/Rebecca is not the same. Sam and Rebecca is like a principal dating a student. If you want to age Sam up, because people love to accuse others of infantilizing Sam, it’s like the president of a college dating a student. In both cases, there would be backlash, and have been, to these types of relationships.

Which would make Ted’s position that of a teacher/professor or someone higher. In most cases, there aren’t objections, however, both parties have to be transparent about their relationship and careful about how and if that influences their professional relationship with each other and others.

Last week, I mentioned a friend of mine who was 18 and dated someone who was 28. Both are white for reference. When I found out their ages and respective positions, I became concerned and doubly concerned.

Oh, they had chemistry and he made her so happy, but he was also controlling as fuck and emotionally abusive. During the duration of their relationship, he became her boss and would monitor her interactions via cameras in the back office. She was stressed out as fuck and would go to the bathroom to cry. You know, where cameras weren’t and where he couldn’t enter.

And it was a secret relationship because he could get in trouble. I didn’t say anything because she was with her boyfriend before she knew me. Me telling someone could’ve gotten him in trouble or fired, but that wouldn’t have ended the relationship. It would’ve made her end our friendship and cling closer to him. Instead, after I quit for other reasons, I sporadically checked on her to see how she was doing and give her advice and resources.

As far as the actual episode itself goes, I struggled to enjoy it due to the Sam/Rebecca situation. It should’ve ended at dinner at most.

The only emotional beat that landed, imo, was Jamie and Roy’s hug. I do think Ted’s confession was strong, but the flow was kinda weird for me. By itself it works.

Two things working for me that wasn’t at the forefront of the episode was 1. How Ted’s problem is fucking over the team. 2. That Nate is in over his head.

Even if AFC Richmond had lost with Ted being in his A game, it wouldn’t have been that made and the team would’ve been more competitive. They were sloppy and making baffling errors. Their head was not in the game and it showed. Man City wasn’t that good, Richmond was just that ill prepared.

And who led training?

Nate.

Nate has great instincts, but he isn’t ready to lead a team and he still has a lot of work to do before growing into coaching a team as head coach.

But let me stress, this falls completely on Ted and even Beard to an extent. Yes, Ted is having emotional issues, however, many people rely on him and he wasn’t there. I don’t mean literally because teams should be able to function without their head coach for stretches of time. He hasn’t been there mentally and emotionally for most of the season. Because AFC Richmond’s competition isn’t as premier as Man City, it’s easier to appear more dominant that you are, esp if you’re coach isn’t on his A game. However, when you’re up against actual Goliath’s in the league, you’ll get your ass handed to you like Richmond did.

As I mentioned earlier, if they do go through with supporting and uplifting Sam/Rebecca, my time with this fandom ends with the season 2 finale.

But if we take Ted’s dark forest into consideration, there is another way this could play out. Actually many.

The one I can see happening that can get her somewhat redeemed, because some will never get over this happening in the first place, is her hitting rock bottom via her relationship with Sam. Something will happen or make her have unflattering thoughts about herself and her actions that will drive her into a tailspin.

And I’m unsure if it’ll be just a personal crisis or if it’ll also be a professional crisis.

Some may disagree with me, but I do want this affair to come to light. Because if it doesn’t, it sets up this fucked up precedent that Rebecca can do fucked up shit and get away with it in private.

Rebecca fucked over her club, uprooted a man’s life in bad faith, and almost ruined several people’s careers due to her bullshit in the first season. The fact that she didn’t have to answer for any of this is a God damn mercy on Ted’s part even though she didn’t ask for it.

Now for her to date/fuck a player because “she just has to know.” Because she doesn’t want to let something pass her by?

Yeah…no.

Rebecca’s fear of loneliness is leading her to make very bad decisions and I fear what this means for Sam’s career and relationships if this breaks. There were people who allegedly care for Sam, yet cheered for this relationship to happen. What do you think happens with his locker room relationships? I’ve already explained in another post that either this sours those relationships OR they want favors from him because he’s dating/fucking the boss.

He’ll get crucified in the media. He may even have trouble getting employed. Why? Because that’s how racism works.

“But, masterthespianduchovny, if Sam may receive hate and racist acts committed against him, why do you want the affair exposed?”

Because this shit show of a relationship isn’t about just Sam. It’s about Rebecca’s fear of loneliness leading her to make bad decisions that effects everyone not just her and Sam. It’s the fact that a white woman isn’t thinking about how her actions could have major consequences for a young black man.

Rebecca is so obsessed with not being lonely and being loved that 1. She never sought help or productive ways to deal with the fall out and humiliation of her marriage. 2. She dated a man because he was “fine” and not because she was actually invested in him and the relationship 3. She’s getting involved with a player on her team without thinking of any of the consequences. 4. She’s not considering the other players, the coaches, or anyone else she’s responsible for.

Oh, and considering we got that call from Sam’s dad…his relationship with his father will most likely suffer as a result. AND now that Dubai Air thing looks suspect, esp because she was talking to him around that time unknowingly.

Oop! And isn’t she getting her relationship with Nora back on track? Even though Nora and Sam can’t legally date and I’m not saying every decision should be swayed by a teenage girl, however, Rebecca is literally sabotaging every relationship just because she’s afraid of being alone (I agree with another poster who said we really didn’t need to explore this storyline, but alas…)

Although Ted forgave Rebecca for her scheming in season one, I honestly don’t think he’d be so forgiving for this. It’s his job to protect players and look out for their well being and how can he one his boss is involved with one of his players, which again, affects others players. This relationship has major consequences for other people who are not in it.

Also, Sam…for someone who people love to say is mature enough to date an older woman, not once did even be consider the ramifications of getting involved with the boss.

Not once.

And that looks bad because a mature person his age would be mindful of such a thing. This isn’t considered or, at least, isn’t said onscreen. Sam os either thinking with his dick, his heart, or both, but he isn’t thinking with his head. Because there is no way you’re thinking with your head and don’t stop to say, “hey, this thing could jeopardize my relationship with my teammates and the other people I work with. Maybe I should think some more of this before pursuing a relationship with my boss.” Sam was all in from the moment he decided he wanted to have dinner with Rebecca. There was no thinking on his end.

But Sam’s super mature, right?

Another poster mentioned that there might be a screaming match between Rebecca and ted and I’m so here for that. No, I don’t think this argument will be romantic. They’ll have legitimate gripes with each other, but yeah…this is an argument that needs to happen. Which will most likely be before Rebecca gets help.

That’s all assuming this happens. Like I said, they could have Sam and Rebecca being a power couple (🤮), or handle this some other way. But if this is going to be framed as a good thing, others can enjoy it, but the show will have one less viewer from me.

#ted lasso #Rebecca welton #sam obisanya #ted lasso spoilers

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lumosinlove · 4 years ago

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Relic Keel

Previously on Relic Keel:

Lily and James sneak out to the Lacrosse fields together. Lily learns about the treasure hunt and Luke’s father’s connection with Pascal Dumais. Her and James decide to, if not be together, than have togetherness for as long as they can.

Finn wakes up in Grimmauld and is reunited with Logan. The crew learn that a hurricane is approaching and Dorcas tries to convince Saint and Sirius to go somewhere else other than Grimmauld, which will get dangerous in the storm. Logan is looking forward to Finn meeting Leo, although he’s confused about his feelings for the blonde boy.

Luke and Saint meet in Rowena where Saint reveals he’s been staying up reading Luke’s notes in the books he’s stolen from his room. Luke wants to know more about Pascal Dumais, and learns that he helped raise Saint and Sirius after they both ran away from their homes. They agree to meet at The Lion later to confront Pascal. Saint apparently likes Luke because he hates surprises and Luke is exactly what he expects him to be—mean. He also steals Luke’s sunglasses.

Dorcas goes to Kasey Winter’s ice cream shop—he also is a safer dealer of Crucio, and she tells him she wants out. He was hoping she would go into business with himself and his girlfriend Natalie. They want to create a medicinal, therapy program for Crucio, where people who are struggling can safely use to to deal with past traumas or grief. They want it to be used correctly, not as a quick fix. Dorcas isn’t hesitant about leaving, she wants to follow Marlene, but she likes that idea.

Remus and Sirius run into each other on their way to the meeting at The Lion, and Remus invites Sirius to stay at his house for the duration of the hurricane. Sirius gets proud and angry and declines. They argue.

Pascal reveals to Sirius, Leo, Remus, Luke, and Saint that Luke’s dad, Victor, and Leo’s dad, Wyatt, were hunting the treasure together—Dumo played a smaller role, had less of an interest other than an interesting discussion about history. They figured out that the Voldemort lay off of the Cradle, a ring of rocks and tiny islands off of Hogwarts Island. They learn that there is a current called the Horcrux that escalates during a storm, revealing the bottom of the sea—or a shipwreck. Leo’s dad was killed by the current, Luke’s father was taken away years after, and the map showed up on Pascal’s doorstep a few days after that. Pascal tries to warn them off of going, but Saint and Luke seem bent on it.

Finn and Logan go to Leo’s house, only to find him crying about the truth of his father’s death. Finn learns of the treasure.

***cw: identity issues, not sure how to tag this but wanting to be alive? briefly implied (and happily concluded) past struggles with that, almost death, past death of a father, mention of blood and wounds***

part ix

Saint felt sweat snake down his bare back as he filled sandbags and shoved them up against the far side of the house. The wind already felt bad tempered. Maybe it was just him. Just Saint, the wind, and the ocean that had gone the graying blue that meant a storm. Saint thought the world should catch up already. His storm had been brewing for a long time. The promise of rain brought goosebumps over his bare back, the sun hidden by clouds, and he shoved another sand bag up against the boards, like some sort of parapet. As if they were preparing for a war.

He looked up when the noise of Sirius hammering plywood across the windows stopped. He rolled his eyes.

“Stop staring out at the ocean like a sailor’s widow.”

“Oh, we’re speaking now?” was all Sirius said.

“No,” Saint jammed his shovel into the bag of sand again.

He faintly heard Sirius sigh. “I don’t know what I did.”

Frankly, Saint wasn’t sure what Sirius had done, either. All he knew was that there was rain thrashing inside him, and wind howling in his ears, and there was gold to be had and death to be avoided.

And Luke.

He had let Luke catch him the night of Pascal’s confessions. Or maybe Luke had just caught up. He’d found Saint at the Howler Cliffs. Saint knew he was there, but kept his eyes closed, letting the wind whistle in his ears. Still, the sound of Pascal calling him his son roared louder.

“If I had known that’s all it took to rattle you, I could have saved myself a lot of time,” Luke had said, coming to stand beside him.

Saint had smiled and it felt like it had stretched his cheeks all wrong. “I didn’t know you were trying so hard.”

“You said it yourself,” Luke had replied. “Dumo took care of you.”

“It’s one thing for me to know it,” Saint snapped. “It’s—“ another thing for him to say it.

“Dumo could know more about my father,” Luke said. “Maybe—maybe the treasure can help me find out what happened to him somehow. Why no one will tell me anything. Why I can’t see him.”

“Sure, Deveaux,” Saint had kept his eyes ahead. “Tell me all about your father.”

“I need my father.”

Saint had whipped his head towards him, only to find Luke looking right back.

Luke’s eyes had been more open than Saint had ever seen them. His pain was like the sun coming through a tiny gap in drawn curtains. He didn’t let much of it show, but the mere hint became blinding. Saint felt it push against his own chest. He kept his blinds shut tight.

Luke’s voice was fainter when he repeated his words. “I need my father.”

Saint swallowed. It was nice, somehow, that Luke was self-aware enough to admit it. “What do you expect me to do about that?”

“I can’t—maybe I can’t figure this out alone.”

“I’m sure your Godlings will help with that.”

Luke shook his head. “James doesn’t understand. He’s too…happy.” Luke winced a little, the wind ruffling his tawny hair. “He’s had it too easy.”

“Lupin?”

“Remus only thinks he’s unhappy. Maybe because I am. It’s…abstract for him.”

Saint raised an eyebrow. “That’s a little rich.”

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Luke nodded.

“So, what?” Saint sighed. “Misery helps misery?”

Luke’s smile, so rare, was sad. “If it has nothing better to do.”

“Well?” Sirius said, flipping his hammer in his hand. “Feel like telling me?”

“Is it weird?” Saint asked. “That we aren’t in love?”

Sirius tilted his head at the age old question that they asked each other. It was half a joke. It was half a plea.

“I do love you,” Sirius said. “And I’d be in love with you if I could.”

“I’d be in love with you if I could,” Saint repeated, then sighed.

“We suck,” Sirius said.

“Yeah,” Saint squinted back out at the ocean, where they could see Remus’ boat.

“I do love you, though,” Sirius said, and walked down to sit on the steps, his gray eyes looking at Saint through the splintered, wooden railing. “Don’t do something stupid. I can’t lose you to the ocean. Or to anything at all.”

“And I love you, which is why we need that gold.”

“We don’t,” Sirius shook his head. “The rest of the world isn’t Gods and Hollows. You aren’t nothing or kings.”

“I have nothing better to do. And we have plain nothing—financially speaking.” Saint gestured towards the house. “Dorcas will leave for the states, and then we’ll really have nothing. We both know she’s paying—”

“We’ll go somewhere else—”

Saint tied off a sandbag with a yank. “I’m not leaving.”

“Saint.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not.”

Sirius stood, eyes cloudy. “You’re not talking to me again.”

“Huh.”

“We don’t do that!” Sirius said, voice raising. “Stop shutting me out.”

“I’m not doors and windows.”

“Saint,” Sirius’ voice held a note of begging. “What is here for us?” He motioned towards the cross that hung around Saint’s neck. “That?”

Saint grit his teeth and began to fill another bag.

“Just,” Sirius took a breath. “Just tell me why—”

Saint hurled the small spade at the side of the house, and it made a satisfying crack. “This is the only place anyone would ever know to look for me.”

The waiting storm seemed to crackle in the air around them at Saint’s words, as though he himself had struck the match to trigger it. Thunder rolled mutedly in the distance. Sirius’ eyes matched the sky.

Sirius walked forward, and Saint let him. He let him press a hand to his face, then their cheeks together as he wrapped him up in his familiar arms.

“Stop waiting for her,” Sirius’ voice was gentle in his ear. “She doesn’t deserve you.”

“We need the gold.”

“We’ll find another way.”

“I don’t want another way. I want a hunt.”

Sirius pulled back just enough to look at him. “One that has killed a man?”

Saint pulled away to retrieve the spade. “Careful is my middle name.”

Leo was embarrassed, but Finn didn’t seem to know the meaning of that word.

He watched him and Logan work wires into loops to hold together shards of found lost things that his mother had scooped up from the beach, while he sat at a workbench, repairing an old ship clock that he could hopefully paint to get rid of the wooden chips and then sell. Finn, as he had regained his strength, was laughter in a bottle. He was as fiery as the color of his hair, with lean fingers that Leo found himself watching as they handled materials, or helped him in the kitchen, or turned the pages of one of Leo’s many books. He went through them like a forest on fire.

And all Leo seemed to be able to do was cry in front of him, as he had the first night, or stare at the way him and Logan were together. Logan had opened up, his eyes lighter, his grins broader. Only his laughs remained as they had been, a soft sound, almost private. They made Leo feel as though he were being let in on a secret.

Leo blinked and Finn was standing in front of him.

“We’re making you dinner tonight,” Finn said, those same nimble fingers spread out over Leo’s work space on either side of the clock.

Leo couldn’t help his laugh. “Oh?”

“What do you feel like?” Logan asked, standing a little ways back, arms crossed over his chest. He looked like some hot gardener out of Leo’s daydreams in his tight white t-shirt and his borrowed pair of work gloves.

Leo leaned back, taking a breath. “What are my options?”

Finn looked back at Logan with a grin. “Ah…peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?” He raised an eyebrow at Logan.

“Or take-out,” Logan finished with a shrug.

Finn’s smile was teasing. “Aren’t we the best house guests you could ask for?”

Most tormenting, maybe.

Leo laughed. “Better idea—I make dinner and you two stick to clean up.”

Logan put his hands up and walked closer to the work table. “Fine by me. What are you doing again?”

Leo looked back down at the clock. “Trying to fix this. I think it's missing a gear, though.”

Finn just hummed and sat half on the table, knee propped up. It made his cross swing against his neck for a moment, and Leo looked between his and Logan’s. He wondered, not for the first time, why they didn't take them off. They didn’t have a clasp or a tie that he could see, just a thicker area where the two parts of the string had been fused together with heat. They were too short to be pulled over the head.

“Do you want me to cut those for you?” Leo asked.

Finn looked up. “Cut what?”

Leo hesitantly gestured to the spot where the crosses would have rested on his own chest, and then pointed to Finn’s.

It was like cloud cover. Logan actually gripped his protectively in a fist.

“Ah, no,” Finn said slowly. He stood straight again and ran a hand through his hair. It came to rest on the back of his neck. “No, that’s okay.”

Leo watched Finn glance at the wire clippers resting near them, and reached out to put them back in the tool box. “Okay. Just thought I’d ask.”

Logan turned away and Finn watched him, too. He swallowed. “Thanks, Leo.”

Leo flushed. It didn’t feel like a thank you. More like an appeasement. “Yeah…”

“Oh,” came a voice from the shop’s open garage door. Leo jumped a little, and looked to see Saint leaning against the side, and Luke, with his arms crossed, a little behind him, looking like a very grumpy sort of bodyguard.

Saint feigned a shiver. “The room just got colder.”

“Saint,” Finn still said the name like he was tasting something knew, but Saint looked almost pleased each time he heard it. “And…”

“Tweedle, meet Finn. Finn, meet Tweedle.”

“Luke,” Luke snapped.

Finn snorted. “Okay?”

Leo was still stuck on the necklaces, eyeing Saint’s still intact one now. He figured the numbers were a way of keeping track of the kids—but burning the string seemed like a bit much.

“What do you want?” Leo sighed. Seeing Saint made him feel raw about the news of his father’s death all over again.

“Well, you ran a little quickly from Dumo’s,” Saint replied, picking up an old lobster trap that they used for spare wire now. “Should’ve stayed. Missed some good stuff.”

“Don’t act like he’s the only one who ran,” Luke mumbled. He and Logan were eyeing each other suspiciously, no doubt remembering the night in Luke’s father’s study when Logan had nearly burned his father’s letter.

“The first wave will come tonight,” Saint said, ignoring Luke. “But if we really want our shot at the Horcrux current, we’ll need the full throttle. Boom, crack, all that.”

“Full storm hits tomorrow,” Finn said from his place beside Leo. Leo looked over at him. He was still torn between embarrassment about crying and something else. Relief? Thankfulness?

Leo tapped his fingers against the clock. “We should figure out what we need for a trip like that. The shops will be boarding up by this afternoon.”

“Kris will have what we need,” Saint replied. “A boat.”

“Kris?” Luke asked.

“He runs the marina,” Leo said.

“What I was going to say,” Saint cut in. “Was that we should run a test trip. Tonight. Before the storm is at its worst.”

“See what we’re dealing with,” Logan nodded.

“I don’t see why we need this treasure, or whatever,” Finn said. He was still fingering his necklace. “I mean…if the trip is as dangerous as it sounds…why risk it?”

Saint laughed a single note, and looked at Logan. “Oh, Lolo. You haven’t told him?”

Logan stiffened, and Finn blinked. “Told me what?”

Saint made a tisking sound. “Logan. All that trouble to get him out and you’re keeping secrets.”

“Fuck off,” Logan growled.

“Oh, you sound like Luke.”

Finn took a step forward. “Lo?”

Logan sent him a pained look, but turned away. Leo glanced at where Logan’s backpack was resting in the corner of the workshop. It had been there for days, he hadn’t been dealing, but that didn’t mean any of the problems it had caused had gone away.

“I think you’re right as far as boats go,” Leo said carefully, trying to draw the attention away from Saint’s jabs. "But he doesn’t have any equipment. Visual or otherwise. If we need that.”

Saint grinned and clapped a hand on Luke’s shoulder, having to reach up a bit to do it. “That’s where this one comes in.”

Luke scoffed. “This one?”

“We’re going to visit your too-happy friend, Tweedle.”

James was staring at his computer, trying to will himself into college, when the sliding glass kitchen door, leading in from the pool, flew open. Saint was there, along with Luke, and three boys James didn’t recognize—or no, he knew the brunette and the blond from the restaurant in The Hollow.

“You have two hundred of my dollars,” he said, pointing his pencil at the brunette. The redhead beside him narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“That you offered,” the brown haired boy crossed his arms.

“Yeah, as part of a bargain,” James looked at Luke over his glasses. “Was the other end held up? Don’t think so.”

Luke just rolled his eyes.

“Well you’re going to have to pay up again, Potter,” Saint said, sliding onto the kitchen island stool across from James.

“Excuse me?”

“Not in money this time.”

James looked around at them all warily for a moment before sighing and knocking his computer shut. “Well, you’re already in my kitchen. And I’m already miserable.”

Luke coughed out a laugh and Saint seemed to bite back a smile, too.

“You need what exactly?” James asked.

“Lights Diving equipment. Don’t go running to Sirius, though.”

James raised an eyebrow. “I’d drive.”

“Ha, ha,” Saint rolled his eyes. “Now, can we borrow it?”

“Is this about that treasure?” James asked. “Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the ocean is fucking deep. Deeper than my summer of sophomore year scuba pastime will get you.”

“Deeper than you?” Logan mumbled, and James glared.

Luke let out a laugh and Saint paused in whatever he had been about to say and turned to look at him. It was almost—awkward.

“What?” Luke snapped, rubbing a hand over some stubble on his cheek. “That was a very Potter statement.”

James had never seen Saint stutter before, or fidget, but that’s what he did when he turned back around to face James.

“Can you get it?” Saint sighed.

James snorted and gestured to the TV mounted above the microwave playing the news. “I’m sorry, am I the only one who knows about the quickly approaching hurricane?”

“Details,” the brunette mumbled.

“It’s for later,” Saint said.

“Then I’ll give it to you later.”

Saint scowled.

James sighed and pushed himself from his stool. “You’re not actually going out into that storm with my help.”

“For Luke,” Saint said. “For his father. This might be our only lead, and our only chance. Until the next storm, at least, at which point you won’t be able to stop us because we won’t come to you for help.”

James yanked the refrigerator open. “Don’t guilt me.”

“James,” Luke said and James didn’t look at him. “Please. I—”

“And this will fix what, exactly?” James sighed. He closed the refrigerator harder than necessary, and the sound of rattling bottles from within filled the silence as he turned on Luke. Luke, who he’d known forever. Luke, who he’d tried to help. Luke, who had done everything except try recently. It frustrated James more than he knew it should.

“It could,” Luke bit out haltingly. “Fix something.”

“What?”

He could practically feel the anger in Luke’s next breath. “My dad was all but—stolen away in the night. No explanation. No goodbye. And now this? A letter, a name, a treasure hunt that turns out to be something more than the fucking bedtime story? J, come on, please.”

James cracked the seal on his drink. “Once again. Hurricane.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Luke said. “We need a storm.”

“You need to get a fucking grip,” James felt heat building behind his words. “Luke, this isn’t—you’re just trying to…distract yourself, or something, and I get it, I do, but—”

“You don’t,” Luke snapped, voice raising.” You don't know what it’s like. You’ve been wrapped in fucking silk and fleece for your entire life. Your parents love you more than anything. You don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t understand anything beyond your own fucking front porch.”

Luke’s words sapped the air from the room like lightning and a dead fuse. His brown eyes widened, just a little, the green dark today. His chest moved rapidly, his cheeks flushed. The three other boys glanced at each other from Luke’s shoulder.

James cleared his throat. He set his drink on the counter.

“How long have you been holding that in, huh?” he said.

“I…” Luke began. He pushed his hair off of his forehead, but it feathered back into place. “I haven’t, I…J, I’m—”

“And the Crucio?” James asked.

“I’m,” Luke’s eyes shifted away. “I’m not.”

“Liar.”

Saint seemed to be holding himself very still. They all were.

“J,” Luke had a pleading note to his voice now.

“They’re in the basement,” James cut him off, sliding back on his stool and opening his laptop. “My mom labels everything down there. But I don’t think it’ll help you.”

“Great,” Saint knocked his knuckles on the countertop and was off, the other three following.

James could feel Luke standing there, frozen and hesitant. He kept his eyes trained on his screen, and his blank page, the cursor blinking.

“Just go,” James mumbled, and Luke did.

James didn’t look up when they left.

He didn’t look up as evening turned into night, or when the sky opened up for the winds and rain to begin their thrashing on the island.

Kris Lavolie had his boats and his daughter. The marina was shut tight when they got there, Logan running behind the others as they dashed through the rain to the door. Logan expected Saint to pound on the glass, but instead they only used the slight shard of roof the ran along the edge of the building as protection, the five of them racing in a line around the property until they got to the marina. All of the boats were dry-docked and covered tightly with pinned tarps. Saint surveyed them with steely eyes for a moment. His hair looked like molten gold in its drenched state.

Logan shivered and felt Finn press him against his side. He glanced at Leo, who had his arms wrapped around himself.

“This one,” Luke said. “It’s like my dad’s. I can drive it.”

Saint gave a nod and the two of them didn’t wait to see if Logan and the others would follow before they were walking down the swaying dock. They didn’t have to worry about making noise and drawing Kris out. The storm hid them.

Logan eyed the waves as he stood between Finn and Leo. They were rolling and white-capped. He looked up at Leo to see him staring, too.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Logan asked. He tried to think of a way to tell Leo that, if he did, he was with him. He also tried to think of a kind way to tell him he thought they were insane, now that he was face-to-face with the raging winds. He needed the money, sure, but he wanted his life, too. He didn’t think the Carrows would kill him, but he didn’t know. The wind stung his eyes and whipped his hair off his forehead. He’d lost his hat somewhere, he didn’t know when. He reached up to his temple, his shirt sticking to his skin. He hadn’t even felt it blow away.

Leo shook his head as they approached the boat where Saint and Luke were efficiently untying the tarp.

“No.” Leo took a shaky breath. “He died out there. He wouldn’t want me to—”

Saint looked up, blinking hard against the lashing rain, from where he was shoving the tarp into a storage compartment. “You cannot back out now.”

Leo’s blue eyes matched the dark waves. He put a hand on Logan’s shoulder, a slight pressure to turn him around. “Yes, we can. This is insane, the winds are too strong.”

“Your dad—” Saint began, both of them yelling over the howling wind.

“Didn’t raise me to be stupid,” Leo said. “Or to get my friends killed. I’m sorry, I know you’re doing this for me.”

Saint scoffed. “For you? This isn’t for you. We all do things for ourselves. Bail-outs,” he gestured to Logan, and then to Luke. “Answers. I thought you wanted a few of those yourself.”

“And what would my mom think? Both of us, my dad and me, drowned?”

Saint’s jaw muscles jumped from where he stood beside Luke in the boat. “You wouldn’t be there to know what she thought, would you? What does it matter?”

Logan thought he saw Luke flinch a little, but he kept his head down, fishing the keys from the glovebox.

Logan followed Leo another step back, looking frantically for Finn, only to find him already at his side.

“We shouldn’t,” Finn whispered right in Logan’s ear, breath warm. “Lo…”

“Saint,” Logan yelled. “Leo’s right.”

“Come on,” Finn shook his head. “Let’s go. This is insane.”

“We’re going,” Luke said, eyes on Saint. “We got this far.”

Logan hesitated. He didn’t know Luke. He certainly didn’t like him.

“Don’t be stupid,” he still found himself saying, then swallowed beneath the weight of his next words. “You’re selfish, to risk your friend’s life.”

Logan couldn’t hear Saint’s laugh beneath the wind, but he could see the smile. “Bold words, coming form you, Logan.”

Logan felt Finn’s cold fingers slip into his own and squeeze.

“Come back with us,” Leo shouted over the storm. “Come—”

But Luke pressed the button that would lower them into the water. Logan only just could hear the hum of the machine. Logan watched as Luke jammed the keys into the ignition and lowered the motor. The second the bottom hit water the engine roared to life. Finn took a halting step forward, and Logan had the brief thought of doing the same, prying them from the boat. Leo’s father’s story flooded through him. He felt like he was watching someone die. He gripped Finn’s hand tighter, his other raising on its own to fist the back of Leo’s t-shirt. He didn’t want either of them getting stuck on that boat if they couldn’t get to the keys. The boat rocked dangerously as it tried to get a crest over the violent waves. With one last dark look from Saint, they took off over the wild water.

“They made their choice,” Logan said. “God, they’re going to get themselves killed, I…”

“We need to get the coast guard,” Leo said, and then turned down the dock and ran.

Logan looked up at Finn, whose wild expression matched his own.

“I’m glad we’re not…” Finn said. “I didn’t understand…I don’t understand this.”

Logan pressed a hand to his cheek. “I’m not risking you. Not again.”

Finn pressed his palm over Logan’s. “What aren’t you telling me, Lo?”

Logan closed his eyes. “I will. I will tell you.”

And then they turned after Leo.

It was like the wind was trying to rip the Hollow free of the island. The coast guard boats had been out, and Leo had figured they’d be by the point and so they’d ran half across the islands to The Hollow, where it would be the most dangerous. Sure enough, trees were down, and wires lay in dangerous puddles. Sandbags lay soaked and spilled across the ground.

Logan’s eye caught on the red of the police cars’ lights flashing across Finn’s face, made fragmented and liquid by the heavy rain. He couldn’t help but feel the surreality of having Finn beside him all over again. There had been a time where he had been positive that he would get caught, that he would be sent back to St. Clair in a heartbeat. He had spent so long avoiding any sight of the police. It felt strange to be seeking them now, but Leo was on a mission. His tall frame looked above heads, but the guards weren’t anywhere near their cars. Logan spied Sirius’ familiar dark hair only seconds before Leo did.

“Sirius!” Leo shouted, and Logan and Finn ran after him. Sirius was in the street with so many of the other Hollows, watching the storm try to rip at their homes.

“What are you guys doing out?” Sirius yelled, trying to see them through the rain.

“It’s Saint,” Logan said. “It’s Saint and Luke. Where are the police, where—”

But Logan didn’t think Sirius was listening anymore. Sirius’ face dropped to an expression Logan recognized, one he had felt on his own face when he realized that he had escaped St. Clair, and Finn had sacrificed himself and stayed.

Sirius pushed through them and took off towards Godric at a run.

Luke knew they were insane. He could barely keep his footing the closer they got to the Cradle. The wind was skewing the rain so much that it seemed like they were driving through water, too, the headlights making the steam and pellets seem like a solid wall to be breached.

“Third rock from the left point,” Saint shouted over the roar. “Closest to the Salazar coast!”

“We can’t get caught up in it,” Luke shouted back, wrists aching with the effort of keeping the boat on course.

Saint shook his head, hair plastered down and falling in his eyes. “We won’t be able to see any other way. If it can carry us, we’ll be safer from the rocks.”

They hit a particularly brutal wave and Saint was jolted forward, without the stability that the driver’s seat provided Luke, and right into Luke’s side.

Luke caught him with one arm. Saint’s hand shot out to replace Luke’s, now around his waist, on the wheel, and they steadied the craft together.

“We’re fucking insane,” Luke shouted.

“Insanity likes company.”

Luke looked at him, risking taking his eyes away from the approaching rocks for a moment. “That’s misery.”

Saint glanced up at him. “We’re that, too.” Then his eyes widened as he looked out over the dark waves.

“The Horcrux,” Saint breathed, and Luke could barely speak.

“The middle,” he managed. “Look.”

There was bare sand in the middle of the circle of rocks, the wet grains being whipped into a frenzy as if by magic, the water pulling outwards. He didn’t know how that was possible. It was bizarre. It was too strange.

“There,” Saint pointed as they inched closer. Luke’s neck hurt from the jerk of being lifted up by the waves and crashed back down again. Luke squinted, trying to see through the rain and the small sand storm alike. They were right at the rocks now. “Do you see it? Are they planks? That looks like—”

Luke jolted as he felt the steering wheel stutter and then go loose in his hands. He turned it once, twice, but it was as though the mechanism had snapped. The boat lurched forward.

“We’re being pulled!” Luke said, panic clawing up his throat. “I can’t—”

Luke slipped from the wet leather seats, landing hard on his back on the deck of the boat, Saint beside him.

The steering wheel was useless. They were being carried now. By the waves. By the current. Maybe by chance. It was almost like floating, had it not been for the wind and rain. That made it feel like a free-fall.

Luke had his arms around Saint’s waist, Saint’s around his. It felt like they were pinned to the deck.

“Either the storm will pass,” Luke breathed. He couldn’t keep his mouth from brushing Saint’s temple, with the motion and the way they clutched each other. “And the current will slow, and we’ll be dashed against the rocks from momentum.”

“Or?” Saint’s breath brushed his jaw.

Salt sprayed as the boat jostled and knocked them together. “I didn’t think that far.”

“That Greek myth,” Saint said. Luke could feel his fingers digging into his back. “The whirlpool.”

“Maybe a monster would be a quicker death.”

Saint’s laugh sounded strained. “Quicker than rocks?”

“A better story, then,” Luke replied. “No one to tell, though.”

“We’ll know.”

Luke gripped him tighter as the wind seemed to pick up, howling. His breathing came fast. “You told Leo the dead know nothing.”

Saint picked his head up, looking at Luke through the rain. Their foreheads pressed together. Luke’s eyes burned.

“I don’t want to know nothing,” Luke choked out.

Saint didn’t say anything. Luke had never known him to be silent, but he just stared as the boat lurched beneath them. Then, Saint tilted his chin forward, only a few centimeters, but it brought their mouths together in a firm kiss. It was warm, against the chilling rage above. Luke closed his eyes, and let the feeling of lightning brush through him. Warm heat.

They didn’t pull away so much as were pulled apart then knocked back together, Luke’s lips pressing to the corner of Saint’s mouth, then his cheek. Saint brought his hand up to Luke’s jaw to steady him. For a moment, it had felt like they had stopped spinning round and round.

“Why did you do that?” Luke breathed. He didn’t know how Saint heard him over the roar, but he did.

“What do you mean?” Saint said. His eyes were molten and—afraid, Luke realized. The rain on his face looked like tears, and he traced his thumb over Luke’s lip. “I steal things from you all the time.”

There was a horrible, jagged wrenching sound, and Luke found himself plunged into the water, Saint ripped from his arms.

The rain lashed against the windows of Remus’ bedroom, and Remus looked out into the falling dark.

“What a dick,” he mumbled aloud to himself.

He couldn’t figure Sirius out. He didn’t seem unkind—until someone was kind to him, at least.

It made Remus want to kill him with kindness and just kill him period. He’d been so happy on the Wolfsbane. He’d been horrible at The Lion. Proud.

Remus rubbed his eyes, closing his laptop. It was the storm. That was all. He looked towards the direction of the docks. He hoped the planks survived. He’d kept his boat as safe as he could, cranked up the tracks onto the grass, sails down, tarped up.

He smirked. Luke would laugh at him if he could see him worrying like a mother. Sirius, on the other hand…Remus thought Sirius might have worried, too. Remus sighed. There Sirius was again. Popping up.

It was why he thought he must be imagining it when he looked down and saw Sirius standing at the door he had named to him, in the side of Bane Tower, soaking wet and staring behind him, out at the ocean.

“Shit,” Remus threw his computer to the side, and his bedroom door open.

The old wooden tower stairs groaned beneath his quick feet, and he winced as a splinter ripped at his palm as he threw himself around the bend at the bottom and pulled open the door.

Rain hit him immediately. Sirius jolted around. His eyes were like gray moonlight.

“I…” Sirius began, but didn’t seem able to say any more, just blinked at Remus through the heavy wind and rain. Remus didn’t hesitate, just pulled Sirius inside and slammed the door shut again.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked.

Sirius was just staring at the door. Maybe thinking of the rough ocean still.

“Sirius,” Remus pressed, taking Sirius’ broad shoulders in his hands and giving him a shake. He was hot, even feverish, despite the frigid rain. “Are you hurt?”

Sirius just looked at him with wild eyes and shook his head. His dark hair clung to his forehead, his gray eyes cat-like and afraid.

“Is anyone else at your house? In the Hollow?”

Sirius shook his head again—his entire body was shaking, Remus realized. “No, Dorcas went to Marlene’s. The—everyone’s in the street—Saint—”

“Saint?”

“Saint is out there,” Sirius’ words practically tore out of his throat. He pushed his soaked hair out of his face. “He went out there and—and—the treasure. The—”

“The current,” Remus repeated, and Sirius pressed a hand over his eyes.

“I should have know. I should have known he’d never listen. He’d never—”

Remus didn’t pause to listen to more. He swore and snatched two windbreakers from the hooks by the door, plus a fleece. He shoved the fleece and jacket into Sirius’ chest.

“Put those on.”

“We can’t,” Sirius’ words choked off to catch his breath. “How will we follow them? I didn’t think you would—”

“Why else would you be here?” Remus said. He shoved gloves over his hands. The rope would be wet, slippery, and he didn’t want to deal with blisters and ripped up palms for weeks to come. He handed Sirius a pair, too. “I don’t know why I’m doing this for you. We should call the police.”

“Leo is trying to find them.”

Remus shoved a sweatshirt over his head. “Is that how you found out?”

Sirius nodded, zipping the breaker up. “Leo, Logan, and Finn. They came running up, and said Saint and Luke—”

“Luke?” Remus froze. His stomach dropped. “Luke is out there.”

Sirius’ eyes flickered, but he nodded after a moment.

Remus didn’t have the time to try and figure him out. Not now. He reached for the door. “Come on—”

“Remus?”

Remus froze all over again, his hand on the handle. He felt Sirius shift uncomfortably beside him, and then Remus turned to see his little brother standing there on the bottom step, in his pajamas.

“Jules,” Remus breathed. “What are you doing awake?”

Julian’s eyes flicked from Sirius and back. “I heard you. There’s a storm.” He looked at their outfits. “Where are you going?”

“We have…” Remus trailed off. “We have to pick up a friend. I’ll be right back.”

Julian stepped down the last stair. “I want to come with you. Your gloves. Are you going—on the water?”

“No,” Remus said. “No, no, we’re—It’s…”

“I want to go with you. Can I?” Julian looked at the door. “I never get to. Mom says—“

“Jules,” Remus said, bending down and pressed his hand through Julian’s sleep mussed hair. “Julian. You have to stay. You have to stay here, okay? It’s really, really dangerous outside.”

“But you’re going outside.”

“I know,” Remus let his eyes fall shut for a moment. “I know I am.”

“I’ll tell mom.”

“No,” Remus pleaded. “Jules, please. We have to go and you have—you need to stay. Please. I’ll take you out on the Wolfsbane. I’ll do whatever you want, just—Please.”

Julian didn’t look convinced.

“We have to go,” Sirius’ rough voice came. “Remus.”

Remus rose. “Julian, do not follow us. Wolfsbane, super early, mom never has to know. I’ll teach you. You know I’ve always wanted to teach you.”

Remus ruffled Julian’s hair, and then rose, turning to Sirius.

“Now,” he nodded towards the door.

It was a struggle, getting the tarp off while the wind whipped it back in their faces. Getting the sails straightened, but loose enough so that the mast wouldn’t swing right around once they cranked it back into the water. He kept them low.

Remus peered at Sirius, swiping a hand over his eyes. “We’ll have to use the motor. There’s no way I can control too much of this wind.”

Sirius nodded, but he looked panicked. “They could be—anywhere, already in the water.”

“Well, look on the bright side,” Remus snapped. Sirius was all nerves, and they couldn’t afford that. “At least they won’t freeze to death. They’re not far from the coast.”

Remus was breathing hard by the time they swung themselves into the boat and were jetting haltingly away from the dock. The nose bowed this way and that, and Remus risked raising the sails, just a little. It seemed to straighten them out enough. His fingers already ached from the tight, adrenaline-filled grip he held on the lines. He didn’t dare tie it off, the might need to drop them quickly.

“The Cradle,” Sirius shouted against the wind.

“I know,” Remus yelled back. “We can’t go in the Horcrux. We’ll just get stuck. The boat won’t survive it, we’ll tip.”

“Fine,” Sirius said. He was just sitting there, water splashing over the sides and soaking their shoes.

Remus tossed him a bucket. “Bail.”

Sirius did, and pretty quickly, too, but the waves were high.

“This was fucking stupid,” Remus muttered to himself.

The Cradle rose up as if out of mist, and Remus could see its ring of water, swirling within. It was practically a tide-pool, vicious and smooth. It almost looked inviting, like some water-park ride. Remus eyed the sands swirling in the middle with half a mind going to the bedtime stories his grandfather had told him.

“A desert storm in the sea,” he breathed.

The rocks looked like jagged death sentences, and that was when he spied the two shapes, one on the rock closest to them, and the other all the way on the other side of the ring.

“There!” he shouted, and Sirius jolted up. “On the rocks, can you see them?”

Sirius nodded and tossed the bucket down in favor of catching up a rope. He began to fashion it into a sort of hook, a circle that could be slipped around the waist.

Remus wondered where he’d learned that, and Sirius seemed to read it on his face.

“Dumo,” he said, and wiped his sleeve over his face, trying to clear the rain. “How close can we get?”

“I don’t know,” Remus shouted, turning the boat into the next wave and letting it crest more safely over the nose. “Let’s go around, the rocks could wreck us.”

They came to Luke first.

Remus shouted his name twice before Luke looked up. He was clinging to one of the rocks, soaked to the bone and bleeding from a cut to his head. Remus looked to the water. There was no sign of their boat.

“Luke!” Remus shouted.

“Remus,” Luke’s voice sounded far away, though he was just feet from them. “Saint—I—I don’t see—”

“He’s there!” Sirius shouted, eyes trained on Saint’s figure on the other side of the ring. It was perfectly still. Sirius seemed to shake himself and held the rope high, feet spread wide to keep his balance as Remus kept having to turn the boat this way and that to keep their place in the waves. “Can you grab this if I throw it?”

Luke nodded, and his eyes slipped shut. Remus felt panic seize him.

“Yes,” Luke shouted. “Yes.”

“Hurry!” Remus urged. His arms were shaking already, and he still needed to get them over to Saint.

Sirius tossed the rope out. It was a good throw, but he nearly lost his balance doing it. Remus nearly let go of the sails going to catch him, the rope slipping dangerously through his fingers as he lunged to grab the back of Sirius’ jacket.

Sirius shook him off. “The sails!”

Remus leaned back on his heels to get the rope to stop pulling, his teeth clenched. “Just saved your life, your welcome,” he mumbled.

Sirius didn’t hear him.

“Around your waist!” he was shouting, and kept the rope free of the tiller as Remus brought them about again.

Luke followed his instructions shakily, slipping into the water on the outside of the rocks, where the pull would be straight instead of sideways. Sirius hauled him through the waves, and Luke pulled himself up onto the deck coughing.

“Luke,” Remus’ voice broke. He wanted to go to him, but he couldn’t let go. “Luke, Luke—”

“I’m okay,” Luke coughed out.

“Your head,” Remus couldn’t look to long as he let the changing wind guide them out farther towards the horizon, trying to find a calmer path.

Luke touched his fingers to his temple and looked down at the red that came away with them. “Oh.”

“Saint!” Sirius was shouting, but the moonlit silhouette on the rock wasn’t so much as stirring.

Remus had to weave them out four more times before they got close enough to the rock to see Saint’s face. He had a nasty slice that ran from his forehead to his cheek, the red dripping down his jaw and mouth in jagged, rain-washed lines.

“Saint!”

It was Sirius and Luke’s voice in unison this time.

Sirius cursed and tore off his jackets and gloves, then took the looped rope from around Luke, securing it tightly around his own waist instead. He looked at Luke. “You have to—”

“Pull him in,” Luke said, eyes on Saint. “I know.”

“And me,” Sirius snapped, then shouted Saint’s name again. There was still no response.

Remus was struck with the thought that Saint looked like something out of a myth. Odysseus, washed ashore, or a deadly Siren, luring them in, the passing sailors, for his next meal.

Sirius looked back at Remus, who could only stare back, horrified, as he dove into the water.

He surfaced farther away than Remus expected, carried towards the rocks by the powerful current. Luke cursed as the rope slid quickly through his hands.

“The gloves!” Remus shouted, and Luke tied the rope off for a moment, to shove them onto his hands. He kept it hooked around one of the boat railings, letting the boat bear some of Sirius and the sea’s weight.

There was a terrifying moment where Sirius nearly slipped right past the rock, but he held on, hauling himself up beside Saint’s body.

Remus brought the boat about again and whipped his head back to see if they were in the water yet. Sirius was touching Saint’s cheek, his mouth, and then he was wrapping him up in his arms. He slipped messily back into the water and Luke pulled hard. Remus could see his muscles shaking, his wound bleeding. Remus squeezed his eyes shut, thinking of all the times they’d played pirate. This wasn’t any sort of make-believe.

It was harder, getting Saint into the boat. Sirius had to cling to the side with one hand and try to lift him from the water with the other. Luke reached down and hauled Saint up by his arms, knocking Saint’s head against the rails in the process.

“Fuck,” Luke’s wind-snatched voice came.

Sirius tumbled over a moment later, spitting salt water and crawling on his hands and knees towards Saint. Luke was already there, listening for breath. Remus had never seen him look so scared. Not even when his father was taken away.

“Get us out of here!” Sirius shouted at him, and Remus didn’t waste energy being angry at him.

The closer they got to shore, the more scared Remus felt. Without the wildness of the storm would come the stillness of land. And if Saint—if he was—

“Breathe,” Luke was shouting as he pressed in even strokes on Saint’s chest. He plugged Saint’s nose and blew air into his lungs. “Breathe you fucking thief.”

Remus couldn’t watch. His eyes stung but he looked into the full-mooned dark—and he saw a shape. There was a silhouette of a boat, a rowboat, moving back and forth dangerously with the waves. Its sides were so low that it had to be filled with inches in water. They got closer, and Remus heard someone crying.

His heart gave a painful squeeze.

He knew that cry. He knew that boat.

“Julian!” the shout all but shredded his throat.

Julian’s small figure was barely keeping the oars in their nooks. The sailboat’s weak light lit his face in red. His hair was plastered against his forehead and his face was screwed up in fear.

“Remus!” his voice barely carried. “I—”

Remus didn’t even have time to see the wave before it threw Julian dangerously to the side. He screamed, and Remus thought he heard himself scream, too.

The rope slid along his palms as the sails swung around. He ducked beneath the metal bar and drove for the rowboat.

“Julian! Don’t move! Try to stay in the center!”

Sirius was at his side, rope in his hands.

Julian had his eyes squeezed shut as he felt his way through the water, up to his knees now, in the boat.

“Julian look at me! Look at me!” Remus shouted. “You have to catch this. Sirius is going to throw this to you, and you’re going to slip it around your waist—”

Julian’s eyes were wide and golden. “The sharks—”

Remus shook his head, a sob ripping from his throat. “There aren’t sharks now. There aren’t, now listen. You’re—“ The sails swung and he felt Sirius’ palm cover his head and push him down as the boat came around again. “You’re going to put this around your waist and make sure it’s tight, okay?” Then you’re going to jump in and we’re going to pull you up.”

Remus’ throat ached from shouting, but thin tendrils of relief shot through him when Julian nodded.

Sirius’ aim was true, and Julian almost lost it over the side, but he grabbed it quickly. He put it over his head, and pulled it tight, but look over the side of the boat timidly, then up at Remus.

“I can’t see the bottom,” Julian cried. “I don’t like not being able to—”

“Julian, you jump right now,” Remus said. “Right now, come to me, Jules.”

Julian closed his eyes and leapt.

He disappeared beneath the surface for a terrifying second, and then his head broke through again, gasping and spluttering when a wave hit him right away.

Remus distinctly heard coughing from behind him—Saint—and Luke cursing him out in a broken voice.

Sirius leaned over the side and pulled Julian up and into his arms.

“The sails,” Remus shouted at him, and Sirius took the ropes from his hands wordlessly. Remus dropped to his knees and pulled Julian, larger with his life-jacket on, against his chest.

“The row—” Julian began.

“Let it go,” Remus held onto him, maybe too tightly. “Let it go.”

Remus shut the door to Bane Tower too hard. It was blissfully warm inside. Julian was wrapped in every blanket that Remus had been able to find and clutching a cup of hot chocolate from the electric kettle they kept down here. Sirius was crouched beside him, having been holding Remus’ place until he returned from securing the Wolfsbane. Saint and Luke were standing by the stairs, still dripping, with more blankets around their shoulders. There were clusters of bloody paper towels where Luke had been taping up Saint’s gash when Remus had left for the boat after letting them in. Luke’s own wound looked clean now, and more like a bruise.

Remus didn’t look at any of them, just stared at Julian, sitting there with a tear stained face, safe. He’d never known relief and guilt could feel so similar.

“Lupin,” Saint broke the silence softly, then cleared his throat. It was still rough from the salt water that had been in his lungs. He stepped forward “Remus—”

“I almost lost my little brother,” Remus said lowly, and then it was like he really realized it, and he crossed the room to shove Saint backwards. “And you would not have been worth it. You never would have been worth it.”

“Re—“ Luke stepped forward.

“No,” Remus shouted. “No.”

Saint’s lips pressed into a thin line. He swallowed. “I know. I’m sorry, Remus.”

Remus turned his back, trying to catch his breath. Sirius stepped out of his way as he went to Julian, clutching his shivering body close to him. He couldn’t look at them, at Luke. Not now.

“I won’t tell mom,” Julian mumbled through his chattering teeth.

“Shh,” Remus whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. He smelled like he had always smelled, even when Remus had first held him as a baby. Even through the salt of the sea. He felt his own lip tremble. “It’s okay.”

The walls creaked dangerously in the winds. At least it was dry. They were all silent, the only sound their panting breaths, until Remus looked up when Sirius rose. He walked straight at Saint and shoved him hard in the chest, too. Saint stumbled backwards like he had expected it. His eyes looked gold in the dim light, and understanding.

“I know,” Saint said.

“What were you thinking?” Sirius’ voice was uneven. Luke looked down.

“Sometimes I don’t,” Saint replied with his familiar evenness.

Sirius just let out a shuddering sound, pushed Saint again, but caught his blanket hem at the last minute and pulled him against his chest. He cupped a hand against Saint’s cheek and kissed him with a bruising pressure. Remus let his eyes trail over the way Saint’s fingers knotted in the back of Sirius’ shirt. Luke turned away. Remus wished he could, but instead he watched Sirius pull away slowly, then brush their lips together once more, with a pain in his chest.

Remus was so angry with himself for feeling any of that at all right now that he almost didn’t stop them from leaving when it was time. But this was just the beginning, the first wave.

“There’s going to be more and it’s only going to get worse,” he sighed instead. Sirius looked up at him. He was at Saint’s shoulder like he couldn’t move away. “You can’t stay in the Hollow.”

Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in a room with AC, and, as if reading his mind, Saint suddenly threw their covers back and cracked both of the windows open, just enough to let the humid night air in without the rain. Thunder rolled. Sirius watched his silhouette squint at the thermostat in the dark, and heard the faint beep as he turned it off. He hadn’t realized how loud the machine had been until all was quiet save for the storm, and Saint was slipping back beneath the covers.

They lay there beside each other, a feeling that was as familiar to Sirius as breathing. So, why did it feel so strange?

“You could have died,” Sirius said into the dark.

“I’m sorry.”

Sirius looked over at him. Saint didn’t often apologize. That was twice in one night.

“I don’t even know…” Sirius shook his head up at the ceiling, trying to get the image of Saint’s lifeless body out of his head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“I kissed him,” Saint said, and Sirius turned his head. Saint was staring at him already. “I kissed him.”

“You kiss me all the time.”

“You kissed me in front of him.”

“And you wish I hadn’t?” Sirius asked.

Saint seemed to be trying to play it all out in his head, eyes far away. He looked back at the ceiling.

“No. I love being with you. Touching you. Laughing or fucking or surfing. I was just scared. You were just scared, though. Maybe I’m always just scared.”

“Being scared isn’t really a just feeling. It’s important.”

“Maybe he’ll get the wrong impression. Go all—soft on me.” Saint flicked his eyes towards Sirius. “You never do that. You just treat me like I’m me. Not a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a best friend or a lover just…two people.” Saint closed his eyes. “Just two people who are doing what makes them happy. What feels good or right.”

“This is what you’re thinking about right now?” Sirius scoffed. “You almost died.”

Saint took a slow breath in. “I didn’t want to. I wanted live so badly. But for what?” Saint looked at Sirius again, and this time, there was fear there. “I don’t even know who I am. Why should I want things if I don’t even know that?”

Sirius let that sink in. He wanted everything for Saint, but, most of all, he wanted to see that cross ripped from around his neck.

“Maybe living is about finding out who you are. You’re allowed to change, Saint. Your name…anything.” Sirius reached for Saint’s hands beneath the covers and Saint held on tight. “And I’m going to love you through it all. In whatever way, in all the ways, we do love.”

Saint stayed quiet for a moment, and then he turned onto his side and Sirius mirrored him. They rested their foreheads together. Saint’s free hand clutched his cross.

“I’m so tired of being number seven,” Saint whispered.

“You were never number seven,” Sirius whispered back, stroking a hand through Saint’s hair. “You’re you.”

Remus and Luke lay in Remus’ bed. Remus had Julian tucked against his outer side, sound asleep, and Luke may not have been as close, but Remus could feel his body heat as they stared up at the ceiling in silence.

“Thanks for not making me go home,” Luke broke the quiet.

Remus nodded. “Yeah.”

“Saint’s probably going to steal something from your guest bedroom,” Luke mumbled.

“Hasn’t he taken enough?” Remus replied quietly.

He could see that Luke looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“It wasn’t just his fault,” he said insistently. “I went out there, too.”

“And the others?”

“Leo wouldn’t let them go. He said it was too dangerous. Which,” Luke sighed. “Which of course only made Saint want to go more.”

“And you went with him?” Remus turned to look at him, too. They were so close that their noses nearly brushed. “Luke.”

“I need answers, Re,” Luke whispered urgently. His brown-green eyes were pleading. “I can’t stay in that house, not with the way it is. I need…”

“We need to get off of this island.”

“Leaving won’t help my dad.”

“Neither will getting yourself killed,” Remus snapped, then closed his eyes. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”

Luke shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re right.”

Remus swallowed, focusing on the green in Luke’s eye. He reached up with the hand resting between them, and brushed his finger just below it. “Captain Green-Sea.”

Luke blinked, and the faintest of smiles crossed his face. It had been his pirate name, when they were younger, named after the sliver of green that shone out of the brown in his right iris.

“Captain Wolfsbane,” Luke whispered back. “We loved that game.”

“I’m worried you thought it was a game tonight.”

Luke’s brows drew together. “No. It’s the opposite. I feel—like I’m missing something he left me, Re. Like my dad is trying to…Saint helped me.” Luke swallowed and brought his hand up to Remus’ cheek. “You helped me. Thank you.”

Remus didn’t dare move when he felt Luke’s thumb brush his lower lip.

“You know,” Luke whispered. “Sometimes I wish we…”

Remus nodded gently. “I know.”

“You’re my best friend.”

“You’re mine,” Remus replied, then smiled, just a little. “That means more to me than anything else.”

Luke smiled, too, and tapped his thumb twice on Remus’ chin before slipping their hands together and squeezing tight. Remus closed his eyes, feeling more settled than he expected to tonight.

“My head fucking hurts,” Luke said after a while.

Remus snorted and held Julian closer. “That’s your own fault.”

“I do love you, you know,” Luke added after another moment.

Remus squeezed his hand again. “I love you, too.”

“Captain Wolfsbane,” Luke’s voice sounded more asleep now.

Remus just smiled.

#relic keel lumosinlove #wolfstar #harry potter #cw above #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #Luke deveaux #saint #st tweedle #jily

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libidomechanica · 2 years ago

Text

Or pard with Damaske roses flush vp in woe

A ballad sequence

Stanza the First

Trees even at night has lightened up my heart, smile on its hinges groans. One creatures must smart. The southerne shepeherdes shall have no private life. Or pard with Damaske roses flush vp in woe? Almost, Give me thy twinkling light into

the queen o’ womankind, that giu’st no better; remember’d not thy selfe on Vertues store of newest joys upon a trick; down on my knee to-night, then, straying in rich hair awakes bene so lewdly bent. Promise, and the brimming

moon. Slim shadow falls in the very refuse, but, love, to stop posterity? All the western sun; not—thy soft he set and when I make all the mountain bend? He was used to be calme and rare: but who, of men to byte, her modest eyes,

strange historic monster of crime, long loose the man might never ill-bred enough; here is not pray with light in well-raisde notes; my pen, that every one, and gates of Fear the superior dust-of-sleep. A thrilling their earthly walk; comparing,

joyfully, espy a hope beyond, or to lift him up there! You wish you come, when spring. Changes, sustains, dissolving at my heart, would I do with a wild carroll sing, that this Fair One but here’s nane again saw he the dangers

show. He saith, too—filled their grisly masquerade. To call my friendship bene for the trickling teares, now hopes the onset come; so shalt find each line back my heaven then in my changed head, my heart, smile on its shell, lies broke and so entranc’d

and vertue, I cald my Loue vnkind; she commingling will befool ye. Where nys to beare of the mass of nature’s live merrily, and she in the space betweene some gan to my selfe, and beautiful was a drink was the fire they sleepe with the

deed with subtle, so thin a little can say. As spring could I seek to have melted into seclusion. And that I might uphold against my crowne; who, thoughtful eddies swoop’d; such is that I worry over is the world surmise. Awake,

for heaven, and gone, and will ever call my hopes beset me, hopes which we cease the days. Sicker this day that you come when the strangle with misconceiued dout. Of o’er-hanging a mirror, not from his pure Will leaguing, its Self-fulfilment

wrought that she may, then would have drawn close secret sister floods, what account over, she would I give for those on the sapphire heaven above, edg’d round of my foe, to thy pure and the shock of beauty charming up. Love not abasht:

when snouted wild-boars routing shrilly mellow reeds and cancelled for a moment more, our feet to dance to please. By all the gold; the Crown; a Star under whose lesson derely bought that when she loved and thou great waves of Destiny

convulsed at a changeling Hope in the teeth of winter- liuerie is; the blacktailed exhalations thou height thus, thus bepearl’d with a flatter’d in the bars the head. Of haggard seeming sweet, if human souls can’t wash in hot watery

desolate place could ever dearly lovèd, but I will forget their owne vertues braunches, which I tooke as of a mighty ever is to give me back to boy-hood: make me ships of moulted feathers, waies, greatnesse, eternity; or at

the pleasantly to a narrow black room the retired quiet circle. Full character’d, no breeze would swell of turf and sluicy sands: or ’tis tatter’d Well- a—well-a-day, why should feed him spyed: for deceived husbandry? Who stood by her own

hunger. Quietly almost, a strawberry do stir St. And whither his chere the false harts bene for ay from thence one could be forgive the noise. He doesn’t the earth, and worse. So hast thou, fair Madeline, said so stremes they weigh in a

Hundred little door, and up and strange ministrant of undescribing to say; for we die. To where the pall from the hot day, or hot desire, and there was no human sound. Upon a trick; down on the forest brake, rich in the meadows?

Night; o Night holes. There the Italian brooke. He stops talking I am just another; for all these blenches gave my heedless fountain wind blustering air, and louing lampe, his heat the Kerke, when Ionian shoals of dying, a kind of dying

to be made. My little tent of her breast. About Judas, the sweet peas, I must this fixed a day that every one hope inside that fish would raise; but from that cruel be? Her self- possessed by tubes she knowes not, grow in only folly

rich! From the tulips but only in my changeling Hope in God’s Son died for the seeds of green or dry, a man accursed, and lo, it is to heare within, the sweet self too cruel. The world for some brawl which gaining presently, daily.

Stanza the Second

Rolls of dying the powers and Dreams are innocent bird before I eager face, and to die, as you, or anything

have almost when his Years, fourteen- day full thought thy Tygrish courage passeth by; and r thought: Piffle! Am only

giving out in sight, and all ye power in Thee vain are the woods vs answer, and I shall the night into

the rose from the power hast thou everything. To fear that guy with them with bloosming Buds. Under the cool and knee-high

tube socks that clean any more—pulling my eyes attempred to Dian? For Man’s grim Justice of blood to the reeds by

the Kidde as I can tell thy pity may departures hence, fy! Gratify the low vibrating so; I must brush on

every sport they gain virgins’ hands of blood the Fool’s Parade! The king summoned the chill it lay the past, and arbitrary

black, purgatorial rails: and, rank by rank, we soaped the grassie greene wood, whence, fy! Were lives in a year all its complaints

aside, and let me know; such as all hush and glowed and glimmer of peace may in all be soone be day: and no child

will arrive before himself should see a wave of blood-thirsty asphalte ring: and worse. Each man tremble in mine eyes!

Exactly forth to come a swooning over smooth, and hearken to the Apes folish care, I have lost, unheard, that mind where

it not sit with fresh repair, which sounds from sunshine to strike so many gazers, as on her though it held some sidled

up the golden fleeces by. There is she so fair; heap the sea that night, your mind, thou doest succour and my Eccho ring.

Stanza the Third

Pass by—she heede. And the blood-thirstye paynes as Queene, and being mine, but yet forth ranckly vnder the Pincke and pictorial.

The vilest deeds like a dream, alas! Of all you can call it please the moonbeams kiss impregnates the stream: he ceas’d—

she panted for a walk with, hand is alive and Fancy leads, o’er craggy mount, and soon it lies and straight! But with hearth

should thee impart. Its food served up in Murderer’s heart would’st unravel her at all. Fixed are.— The Heav’n to share, tha sic

a moment’s pleasure: and I don’t without booke: wherein theyr sheepe runne at randon alone sinks down she knows what he was

thilk same song of Colins Embleme. Since thou upon the mountain of grief: no longer glad, I send them, too, were we part,

if merciful as fair, good-morrow morne with the drill but from my Injury, though a rose leaf round athwart, and woe?

Stanza the Fourth

Ate into spring-time shoot: but knewe well as bases deepe; griefe but Loues winter floods, what I know, and knit in knots far

more clear fortune but there is not: you are merciless. That balances the Widdowes daughters did ye seene thy vertue,

if not so great, so pure and we entered it weighed enough to part with rope of shepeheards swaine. But it was, a woful

word to say to morrowe for one thing he loves a man make you Virgins, that night, my lassie ever thoughts no longe:

let dame Eliza thanke you woe. His buddy asked me into the sea;—what a changed him of another. Though most rich

flower and stood the Foxe by this, deare Stella I descries, which make me mourne with portly pace, lyke Phoebus weary eves;

they are busy being happy eyelids widened a little space for feare of fraude and faint away, my love is blind

in popped a dwarf. So crafty, as so, much more than on Art. As salt as mine import forget your beams as the last; and

a sleep who watch him lest himself licks of shabby grey: his cricket cap was on our meadows runnels pebble, and body

hould, o heauie herse, now is this? Ne stayed he once, above my heart lies happinesse, vp to yourself—first E learne not

abasht: when I thy singing is ever so airy a tread, for aye: spreading, by degrees, to humble vaine, and one,

the crown with theyr goodly sun: and, without restraining start, and marrow was, and lyeth wrapt in lead, move right! And know thou

height of thine; ’ with separate I’ and thou’ free love with goodly wel beseene. To lose fair as the prize, both of wemens labour

be: listen the planetary nights, although you’re living things rushed to my pain I could not her blood to Life’s apple

doth shee thou kenst, there’s nothing— into stupid sleep oppress’d to the queen’s only child, if in his pains he sets

the heart away completions—be quickly her to reuert, o ioyfull verse. Out went thee, sweet paradise of it: with them

with my jealous of melodious prophetic soul of them in their happy hours, and my discours’d upon the month,

your glorious lampe of love are mix’d with a girl who’ll fall damn near in love, with swift treble pipe, the beauty, and talk

of all shepheards, that you make the stark and vale, the woods no more. The wise doubtful Damme out of his booth, two outcast men,

and write it outlasts us all as Angels Alleluya sing, the whiles he each to each other unguess’d offices.

Stanza the Fifth

Piers his Embleme. Ah deare bored with his harmonious lace, where your wineglass is so lovely as a grape. With arms

outstretched man—at peace, and humming round our faults by lies we flatter’d to open for my birth and air!—Though thou wandered

in the lampless Earth in an English accents came: endymion our meadows sear! We fooles talke with the dead, on the

startled her; but at twal’ at nightfall because than the sharpe showres. The Beauty Full; who through the drops he stars in the

beames of loue is not that paint the head. Bound to us so farre the heauen in rankes dost seek the empty places.

Stanza the Sixth

Doe bathe your hidden, like ring-dove let fall a spring he loves, to see, and gan his nether side of June, had I been used to call out each strokes the night, but in dying to faint

once travelling plac’d in such treasure left, save to St. My weak voice should a fore-knowledge crouched, in silence let him, you and I am no bigger room but heaven and scarce dare

ethereal dew fall on my bliss— I was a reed, the way down. With a sweeping in her songs that self-same lawn all suddenly feel the tribe of Reuben? My chain of grief: no longer-

lived, and keepe. The blood of queens and pious thoughts that written love letters, if this heart, as northern shore, resting the commeth in, before I lie with fetters which like a rocket,

which for a great deity, for earth had nigh rent her heauens doe the striking brown face, poised above thee, whilst I, my sovereign power too. Things had run to warm their fond imagine

they han the sun unwilling, and my condition does not thinking how ridiculous. And then he saw hypocrisy designed: she treated him with their musicall: and

after him his though you’re lagging I may rest, well as eyes be muffled, or all thy adjurations? For these darken; and that moved and in his heart had one, that sweet sisterhood

may see, when she says, did somebody displaying Venus skies, leaving, in naked breast; yet they their voices to thaw the show! Weaned my young were dead man was once, all my head. The

stormy gusts of states: tho gan shephard once vnto the woods may answer, nor our sir Iohn, to say; for we did not grace and beautiful and put it in our selves pain, with so deadly

nightfall went. And frantic-mad with foule abuse such ioy did he blew in power, and look upon his hands and wind, its patterned disarray—my mind elsewhere on him was that

sweetly shine in selling my labour doest at last to lose fair form had gone in that spreading, prickly furze buds lavish gold; or ye, whose intent on Death, the ground: thou dost despise.

Stanza the Seventh

She clos’d a wond’rous riddle tell. Well to melting into marry leans a kind of dying to thee; i’ll fears that regions

be his messengers through earth assurance rayne, then though the sullen bell. Thou shalt thou be denies, thyself thy

fauourable ray, let thy life permit. She oft hath my added praise, which doth show the plains speckled wings outraught, and all night

went the dore, and dewy buds, blossom fell on the world let’s prove These thing the buffeting north than when you come, now morn.

Stanza the Eighth

Whence that hide or seek I thence but sweet said, Look! The steered limbs go lame! That, whether I hunt, gather, thou, to whom I must be near the night went thee, misfortune’s restless spirit animates eternal spring his motherly cheeke depeincten

liuely notes, the knowledge of my sin, ground veins. To her heart, and had none a word to sayne for beautiful was really a breeze of more will send blissful gentle hands, together. Is penn’d up in earth assurance raynes as Queene of sober

ring, unmoved as if a morning’s dew, ne’er to be looke to glass, and then will your own coffin, as he moves by the river. A patience of sweet dream he was kind against my crowned with a most evil fan. And there, another youth, and

the more shepherd’s nose, there vertue of life to this pleasure, the faded moon o THOU, whose fresh each hollow throat and most subtle cadenced, more death-white rose the merry Larke hir mattins sings but there and the river, the only love letters,

if this thy grief pre-scorches me. A love that vernal beau. Each foot, wrapt in lead: o heauie chaunce come, when my head. That whenever a human voice shall at last her, by all slime left by me. For months my hand, treate not she is asleep. In

lustihede and peeped out for buttons and the dreams had perish without destroyed by subtle sneer, and your eccho ring. My soul; and by all these kissings crost; were nearly, that art now thy cheekes, and let my gestures freeze. With shepheards for thee:

the cold, cold in the house fall to see,—Though she knew what she had heard Kiddie the dead leaves lie huddled from thee, far off fowls hae feathers maim. His quick patterned disarray—my mind, when men weep, of old romance. Alone preserve to pitied:

and bitter blast blew all awayt, and Madeline: if ceremonies due they discours’d upon his shorn peers so to be set free, let all the woods may answer and you on the fish in flowers, dew-drops, and fairest creature-traveler clear

you come with pleasant Quyre of Frogs still, no longer nurseth the tarry rope to write, before the terminations, and the bridale bowers. What wind serves best music, through ashes sat he fortune, make me cleaned there, thought of dim espial.

Stanza the Ninth

Sung in vain save to creeping strayt. Of an older friends, the onset come; so shall I never sticks, plunges into spring to ravel them ouerflowe. Her Jewel of tumblings down sweet

body already turning wind! Bring with his tiny no-sex voice come to you without- end hour whilst they live thou were wont songs that ere one in a valleys, and greedy choice were

brown like small encheason. And often: after these women play upon the sky above her, by all above the temple, as white, red is the sunne is in the retire, him

any mercy, in that watery desolate place where is no chapel on the hasp of that man with under the matter of the ground within and glimmered light unto

our souls in pain, lurch and. And crooked arrow-straight! Endless region where she wants to give me ease; and knew that trembled as he stars go out when hugeness with them back if only

way, since hast ye shepheards swaines may aye remain beyond all the door closed those sad eyes wide open plain, joining my sight. My Muse may well grudge at my higher, the pipe, and

me! Wheel of that man’s despair, like diuers fethered limbs among? Such a catering word, they have gone and small, of all shepheard must weep who tramp the yard that she is claspt by a

passionate looks very man terror of his mayd. But when hugeness with amaze more deepest dungeons; heaths and to die; yet waile thy bier. Magic-mighty dead; would say, nay,

if any said many dainty mistresse, and as ye her alone? Hum about the rough a rose leaf round of watchfulness. And flock, but passed to the dead. Of teeming ever be

destroy, then those same bene dedes of fair musk- rose blooms: and the three days of his limbs go lame! Yearning all around the lily white; yet men will woo ye. The hand had collapse,

a small mistake, comes soother than night-swollen mushrooms? And close, a shout from me, and had but single, and yet I doubt but I be relieued by your own vallies,—ere the sea;—what

are come to you sing. Now Piers, of felowship with eyes of purest like a chuckle of water turbidly flowed thought into my loue does not better pleasaunt layes that passed to

the boundless minute did he blew in power, and the feet might saints I swear that written love letters equally, inevitably ridiculous. Out through a little frightens

above, changes itself and the greene: and mock you with my dust, nor can be born of atomies that suffering so, he should I give for words, if only what she has voued thy

last confesses love can die: and is alive and Fate does not pray with awfull eyes, feed’st thy cold spring, that euer was a better pleas’d amain. As the leaves cover thy noble

life to the Apes folish care, St. Which liker than your eyes as when Zephyr bids a little care of thy husbandry in honour dew time thou wilt bewayle my wofull teares

besprint. And a little bone by night were that Miracles Mens faith of meek forgive me in peace: so that tend vpon her pallid moon, and cold and for there is of my story.

�� Stanza the Tenth

Until finally, too small birds. With soul and bunches beares on the bared braunch and down her eyes like antique gold, to trust, that wont with outward praise is gon that life again. That

in one, and white flock of Immortal; to shake as the more soft tods of wool with wayward melancholy spiritual and I so young? Perchance hast thou fayre a crescent moon: and

the throng’d resort and perling flower amid the months my hand found mine honour might be redeem Porphyro; Thus ended he, and tender haunches: who cons sweet said, but late would

tell thy pity bought thy Tygrish courage passeth by; and the feathery whizzing of you taken by teeth of her goe. In the moon, while my sire charmed touch my hand, they were

suddenly ashamed. For the season, the strong, it has fallen dumb. Thou haue need of rest. Was this middle of my low down, Sugar, my windows, as he crept sluggishly by, ere matron

Night uphold against its pattering trust to bud did beginning of this head vpheld, and peeled bits of stone. So hast thou, unskill’d in woolly fold: the simple seed its harvest

moon, were laid on the soul of Nature to subsist; till a symbol of immensity; a firmament, and the world of honey locust and be their artillery forth, I

would compose her round the bright, raunged in sleeps alone and slept, made anither! Fainted surface that bless they are silent picture a woman with her did seem to paint the scrip

of honest man and poppies hung dew-dabbled off in a tin box. With yawning mouth doth water, and slipper hopes are wanting reuenge, is hard to say, for grammer-rules, and scrubbed the

faithless by the rimes, thou being mingle with the dreams themselves be; seeing the thought, and anchored on the studding or the daisies upon their own presage; incertain spot, its

wings, far apart like phantoms, into the grass. When great or little bag, went shuffled so, but his sad mood by one, who keeps with faery fancy. And the charms, I found again become

a part of every prison that learned: to bury one of his legs, towards me, like an iron pole, hard as Newcastle, his bright Tead that you well complaine for my sake stay,

poure out you I’d be an unleafed tree blasted is. And sleep oppress’d; for still decades off in the bower’s quiet of this sweet enemy within be fed, with a deadly

night, your love returning into those among many. If only what she is still the worst. All that I might be ended; and nobleness! The bailey beareth the sun hotter

than the iron pole, hard as Newcastle, his bright face I tasted in my arms, extend. Upon me, heap it higher tree, whence that cruel lovely young were dead are borrowe. Never

again flown, come instead demurest meditation, delicate amber; and the wylde wolues which thus our sunburned meadows? Sang for the street Yet soone her weal or woe.

Stanza the Eleventh

And passion with the Flowing to this covenant. What could witness his might the enemy Fraunce; horsemen my skill to thy father’s sorrowing, lulled through the first, as is a

transitional era, that’s the jewel-print shirt and face: with streams themselves had swoon’d off: he did soar so passionately bright, my heavenly powers? And who could brook his warrior-guests,

with a though it held some strange, and slits in a mossy stone jaw of a back-hoe. Except the Wolues, them too: but the sun his autumn mists, and felt. That all the Darling daffodils,

we weep to see how melancholy loom crept in Wolues, ful of fraude: ne for a walk with, hand is alive and quick like they came to spend, nor need I tallies thy dear

conceives how tiptoe Nighting the best conjure thee-— yet she will believes who is he so faire of my own empty fifth of booze, the which to lick—no discerne the side of thy content,

over the cold, cold earth to recyue this liue long deliberate suicide wasn’t Sanforized? And but with separate Hell, and all the time it’s fun what do I owe you? A tinting

reuenge, is hard to asswage: and with icy breast. He wanted in theyr eccho ring. But now for no applaud and love be sin in me, than the soldiers make sweet sisterhood may

say. Our heads with a bitter lot that they discours’d upon that, which for a mortal men, that does the third day then by nature, then the shadow of a dream, alas! All you write

it downe, that euer was stores of an innocent, dozes through. Of hemlock to stroke, the which all worldlings try: but we may raise a large cost, having so fast, but we tway bene dect,

which continue their steps lead into those of this cool cell, far as though now vnthoughts and eagles strange. A ram goes bleating: Winder of the night so long whose number sorceress, which

burns the brook the grownd with the floor, and what we drinking on her hands and my song, my life’s bliss from me was like a creatures make vs once and straight convey the cold, and no child

will not despise the way we enter in? A minute did lie, and frantic-mad with blis. That if it once travelling my lance from that caren as little thing, if it be, at last

into the leaves tipped flutes, to dance no moan: but God’s eternall crowned as king: and hid him amaze. And we closes with green, and all date, even as the pebble-stones, we turned to

know that shines so bright do burn in your slaue; in iustice paines come at large, encline to aggravate thy mind is sunk below thy case, blind- hitting Boy, since read, nor, while his fyrye

face doth steepe. Dragon-fly more death to give what I were to call out-told the cleaned our cells, made old offences of midnight spirit fails to think that old Lord Maurice, not a white!

Stanza the Twelfth

Then he had gotte the graces and rose, and carrol sweet, sweet, yet do not drop in forest brake, rich in all hast. Will not

match her Day’s Delight whose mellow utterance, like a thousand day could’st thy life permit. By one, and your ears: the sweet

sister! Into heauie chaunce come, now morne without-end hour with loss of you, so long by the taxing rocks. Now balefull

teares flowe in thee there drincks she Nectar with Ambrosia mixt, and at every one, from feare of this path; and the Cheuisaunce,

Towne folkes my strength and mine honour of the wind, its pattering trust, that e’en thy fading mansion foul, save one glass

eye. We fooles, what are snug and the corners where dead soul from your rivulet fall above, changes, sustains, and face:

again I’ll pollen ate into bowers. I shut my eyes at once, adventure so: it fills me with a thousand torches

flaming Cheek,—upon the holy is, poure out of some shallow hole gaped for a favourite bower’s quiet

hours, with panes of his sorrowfull completions—be quickly dress, a rule how fair the crown themselves but to end. What

wilderness, we are done, in gloss of that fish would be, rather, had he string love all that well-wash’d stools, a circle rang’d, stood,

wan, and pain,—for the sunlight clasps the earth and air! Richest in bounty from the while here sytten as drownd in a crescent

moon: and in the grounds, and that we are seeking is a kind of faith, like a madman on a hearse: and by the rill.

Stanza the Thirteenth

I can see; beauties so farewell. The cocked her in the religious. With bars lest Christ enter our hospitality.

Stanza the Fourteenth

The flowry gras, twixt sleep so sweete? So, like moist earth and the green. In this candid thought like a spark that neuer day so

long expect to see that about them dyingly-—send honey- whispers low, or the way one looks immortal, an immortal,

those sweets, enkindling sad sickens our flockes fleece I shear of all who do rudely move her, by the hire, while thus

he life from the carven gloom, and bound trueloue wize with heart a- keeping? She could but single un- green electric blade.

The particular conditions of the Sun. Both Princesse bene not that, so pure, so strange! As if God’s future than

I could, till through a fen of filthy darkness buds, and gourd; while I can tell time by thy infinite, haunt us till

the Kidd pittying hys heauinesse, asked the thing of thine eremite: those cool depth. Than Dryope, the oak and anon to hide that

the time he propose while there was white. Let no lament, didonis dead, he knows—what can vndoe Dame nature’s own ribs what

else can our selues; for heaven’s glories of them or explain your graces to dight, doe not do, thought good. The Powers

and twice a day of dance an honest mind. Anthea laugh’d, and well-a-day! Then, confesses love should have knows not mine’

or thine that seemeth sike delight, toward your eccho ring. Or to keep an adjunct to retire, knowing loue, or fortune

may be more sheepe: now she is a monster, yet soone as my youth: yea, every fawn and there with which thus our sunburned

me to her of water poured of all our loveliness, they give us there, it seem’d and play. And the stream: half-hidden

feares, be heard: her maiden garden-gate: and with gratitude that is so enamoured out by thy music

clash’d in aught offensive to loue and see the naked stood, and all emong, is faded quite dazed eyes beheld in it

lies a wretched men to byte, her Maiestie, where falling your eccho ring. Their loves my head. To stammer where in the side of

thin disguis’d demon, and all rich armfuls took. As out-of- date as a poore pedlar he did wend, bearing leaves his lair.

Stanza the Fifteenth

Did give my eyes and lives? Painting reuenge, is hard bleak steel at the and soul intent on Death will pine if we longest fitter

weare: yet somehow man-made held together manage either the Border? With April’s tender, rowdy; april cold

with a becke, so the lampless Earth in white, petal by petal, fall on that I do hold, and fearful to alight from

stumblings down sweet: meantime that grotto where your first-born and I have room. Alas! Anger our huntsmen o’er the dead, but

if all fancifullest bride and sullen bell. Uttering waves and trembling mazes that fish would not palsy or booze.

Or to wait for my sake even so as I ne wote, whereto applause but this but thought with a coronall: oliues

bene for me where, nor your eccho ring. Like to the red gold keep your valentine, next let us away, it

eats the lawn all suddenly ashamed. When some prison of its tender prest, Out went the dangerous sky. ’Mong shepheard

Lobbin, how great waves of Destiny convulsed at a change one to the river, wood, then their sun. Some do thee

chameleons, changing hue, and losing momently, my dear, I’ll never saw sad men who them to know the red gold keep thy

fingers like an unleafed tree blasted in my care and slanting branches, which steals into the bitterness was long

path, lying on her hair shepherds, lifting up his aged man impossibly useless but you I’d be an

unconscious woman with the brittle boat, for my state: but in old man who watch, perhaps that blue and set it free of space.

Stanza the Sixteenth

The greene leaues, the bushes with a stratagem, that is with payne: for well hast thou, fair as any I have had struck, and, coming, my life’s compounded on the same bright, my lassie

ever thousand Hearts; yea, when she says, Ours is a matter whether than the field doth fill, for grammer sayes, thinke those skies which he doth itch, my thought, that mote thy mind, thou when you met

her, and health my greater fon, that plays about the fat lizard barks, a silent bee: and if Foxes bene fayne. And notes each simplicitie: and we knew so well I wote my humble

your promised to marry her in the grounded deer, o’er craggy mount, and far-heard can astert: Fayre fields and kills outright; in which only doth pass in every night by one burns

the times of lusty hed, go to thee to reach of woven crimes, and sing this ditties sigh for thy old Orinda call thou hast charge, while his feathers, girt in gawdy greene in grace

to play should scan a lurking trouble is that whenever a word to strew daisies, very deadliness did never come a part of flesh! When my love away againe retorne,

for ought me to part with a sword! To see that trampled Crowns of Kings, are natures make and see your watry bowres, and approve desire is death. To call except for its

becoming faith first Man took his brain aflame. The slender acacia would brooke. Shepherds with my favorite vow. He was so enamoured out their father of ioy and passionately

bride, while the earth now lacks her way. Whilst they give us there pulsing came, with lasting, try my she, instead demurest meditation, to occupy me wholly, and sleep,

nor dare I question Whither? Be also presently, my dear; upon a scaffold high, beginning of its prey. Whether rennes this the thin-lipped preacher who sins a second

morn her dearest. Lo how finely they have golden beam, no uttered syllable, or, woe betide her—the strong bow into gold or she is in his place; they may thy vertues store,

what to vs wretched at this covenant. And when you have done my wrong. And hid him so that some one: the floor into the sun hath he skill in horse louder, confident in

no knowable ring? Flute came a-pilfering so, he should discerne the little thing he lay directly four days to do it I will stop it, for thee, how bene thing vncomely

grace can you were spick and Tom are past the end, and so entrap, nor any good. It swell that held her to gaze, whiles our fearful things, to yield his God. And grasshopper its last

arctic blast has slain my trooping houses probes wounds forlorn by the name has gone into a sort of heaven’s brink. When you say you lovest, and I forgot am of myself

years are, or who them runne at randon alone. The joys of all here to-night. Our inmost sacred things in seeming trumpet’s mouth doth pass in every one hope inside walls of vine,

a fellow hole. Young cheek; and hound, and thy attention it takes him weary. The rest; for thee: the many tears, the two distance like his hopes of her bed, but ah to well have such

pain that she might mean. Or to life, death of Zephyr bids a little can see, the lassie o’ my heau’nly face sent forth, I know, and reigne with your moan and with ease his clumsy Will!

Stanza the Seventeenth

Us to thy clear religious. Unlike, every other Milk, she mought be in such treasure; i’ll be as free from various points. No more a winding through, instead: he had no blush, and that Death thou may’st think upon me, when the secreter

than the air so mournful strange flames of your dew time that you are sleepy eyes Sweet rose of virtue answer, nor your echo ring. And yet God wote, such cause of him wasn’t sure which bore my loue and listening cell, we turn to Caledonie! And

then breeds the Law gave him her dumb lactation, delicate and voice: next Corinna, for her love which doe theyr name rehearse each one his owlet pinions shook down Splendour like dying their artillery at the wisest scholler of thee

with you and the sacks, we broke of Fate that Christ! Let no deluding dreamer! To help my beggary, deere, loue me not, for my sake stay, poure our nest, grows death hath scope: now shew theyr charms, I clasp one another night did bid me beare my fire.

Sicker I am in love with blis. My love unto her gold, devoutly to the world my sentience my Silvia was, though I die thirst no more amongst us all: wrecked. Hooked to my fate; the man that linger’d still then others them! Not

from me remov’d, be better ear touching the thing he lay directly four days to do it I will excuse ye: thou dost know not when we men curse, and fern-leaves lie huddled from its skin. I see Calliope speede her to gaze: but let

Autumn bold, but ah to well as bases deepe; griefe but Loues long since haue ioyed at the souls did never more, to be but unthrifts! He has a deadly night, when all is well; he has but changed eyes; for that man with my life doth itch, my thought quicker

element filling step of that faced my three-plank bed, and spring-time shoot: but knewe well as other for leauing his eyes be muffled, or all the time to speak against the Foxe, maister of collusion: for he has a paly flame of

hope to show that she may enter our humble reuerence, she said, that swell’d now and accept their bed, and each other one waiting forth witless message sent into the sight of living thing;—a dove forlorn by the brydall boures. His Lips

press’d; for still, but to her Foot that proue? And alone: and after so many hours late and the woods did answer and the Widdowes daughters, thought I faintest sighs but sigh or groan, then would be cherished, and there appeals to know. Their uniforms

were many, winding the same way the paper’s light, and leaves lie huddled from. My mouth a red, red rocks to where Porphyro grew faint: she knew his face, among the honey for a hearse: and such cause of inward beauty breaks, in suc

securitie, that neuer fayle? The brave man with thee ere we to give me thy twinkling of pleasure? But think how the woman’s face that in the glass shows of the psyche drive through the dreams. Thus, thus I will soone her weal or woe. Beauty you gave

me the fayre a creature I am, now reason … O saw ye bonie Lesley, thy subject that is always will. No law books fresh boyes that breed: till like a bloodless sickness. She is watching that rear’d she him there; I know, and knew the holy

loth thou whom thine ailment: tell me when the facts! All night had well ycond his heat and chicken feathery sails, sweeping, he cannot purchase. Also he soldiers make vs once our only grief above these things in seeming ever be thine.

Stanza the Eighteenth

That toiling year a son was born. And his waters run gurgling in Senses balances theyr choking. At eventide

thee, clumsy jackets. Shook, and see, with mighty wing to feel this poor guide hurried at his mistresses: stately Julia,

prime of merriment. At length thereof, both by the name, the why not of my being cruel man and straight loathes the man

with little eyes, genders that broken urn, for his grave; ghosts cald vp with a key, and sink thus low! From the western sun;

not—thy soft hand, my launce guided so well he means more than I am. For grammer where he stood in my scythe, the Wods

with something bigger room of straws the sign to comfort, that this fixed are. All love do? Failing chance: so that we abase

her celestial threasure; i’ll be asleep. Be still I should raise; but from the right watch him night hence all fears that Rumpelstiltskin?

On within my brain full character’d, and nothing to universe. Shiny black, the gallows’ need: so with teare.

Silvery enchantment held me, and ioyes to see. That in me it bides: my true loue in aire of woll, what thou mourne,

which ev’n then fill’d out its voice, and flouds do gaspe, for her will wed sorrow wither; the laugh as he grew, she dress’d the

chilly nest, a world dreams that shepherds with midnight sobs around. Had I been used to knit my soul I rather perish

without a fore-knowledge—see, great pittie is, he be in earth had never tell thee the music, which obscure and have his.

Stanza the Nineteenth

—The Heav’n from the laye: with iron heel it slays the stir of the lake dry; it seeks, but our Elections new thou needs must

misse, and of savage glare, which Pan the flies as I said, I am the boughs, lies a wretched men like lemonade. What

would not be nay, weight, knowing you now. Once more been content,— hurling our directly in the heavy peacefulness in

me. As the little unknowing die in music, yearning to the flies as I said, I dared repeats the world, out-facing

Lucifer, and soul in pain, from Fear o God within, the pride of shepheards hem to deuoure, with the virgin splendour;

but soon have me here his trecheree. Sleep on which way back to the river! She is not true! Lightnings helpelesse harmes, ne

let them guided, that none accordaunce vnto her knee, had not stare. Lust, hardly could go back to when upon the sight? Come,

my griefe, where to heare with bloosming Buds. And all be heard. Doth behoue, and full of bright euening sweet Stella I descendant.

All night went thee from being hidden, like a precious time to grieved, the knife. Not mine own in frightful to see is that

rich in their owne, that in thee, each to razed oblivion, and die. Before he meets that I had be kend, but ioyed at

this covenant. Left a boy—one wing hand upon his hauty hornes did start and knee-high tube socks that I lo’e thee.

Stanza the Twentieth

To common man’s hands and maist thou, roger from yours thou art a Mower Damon sung, with Hawthorne buds, blossom’d beans and some mother and we are seeking is ever be struck, kissed

thee in my beloued lasse forlorne? And all his life were made by my mother’s way; then laws were and heart lies hatching than new loveliest lie I will pine if we long ago thy

voice of blisses of happy chanced his own: they sat, she laugheth in those region where he told with sweete? Most true; for since we see He venture so: it fills me with wings which were

unjust? Hard and constant hearts o’ men adore the day, your little bootes all that Hope is happinesse, and runs at Sam, who slips with our should have to waite on his earthly wrecks.

Stanza the Twenty-first

Even the place who builds up such ugliness in groves Elysian: but God’s Son died for all in Rhenish and long

prosperitie: that nought hauing, not thy service to do with teares flowers set in cost, but all along, before the fence to

please, dost those whom Christ call for all her state and twilight, the window overlooked. Until it came down where dead leaves that

mansion foul, save one old beldame start with hymnes of quaint device, Hereat the other night for the Kidde. But dreams, the

two doomed ships that Christ enter love, angry that I am drained of its prey. And there pulsing came a lively prelude

soft; came many ornaments and both them, shedding her vp to the thought, until ye try them up, in bidding hence chase

when I perhaps it is to play. That to her begot: so sprong her blood. Has flown, come into the yellow leaves were strapped

in to you as a beast is hanged: the space for feare the dice is a gentle creep, a carefull verse. She turn’d into

the great or little swincke and when the paper’s light: and then they do we argue like the eye she turn’d into a flutter’d

in woolly fold: Sudden anger, or in sport; were it more worthy of your ioyous Antheme sing, the whole self once travelling

cloud would not to be looked with sighs, that with little cloud, now she is, and never more fortune has so sorely bruit,

where, O Where hast thou dove-like he stool, she, falling, kiss’d the plumes of melodious prophet oft, and leaue your flockes

fall above was loved you first: but after thine; sternly denied! Opened Eyes on his line, remembers. This said, No, no.

Stanza the Twenty-second

Equally, inevitably ridiculous. And wake, and floor, and let the floor, and the pure daylight of heaven’s glories shining bright Sunne gynneth to discovered lay a mute remember’d not to beware, shee set her younglings

cruelty in thys shade and gentle sleepy mead: more by these accents came: endymion: yet it may be said so stremes that today my memories, and by each line back to delay there when the grass, through his booth, two outcast me down like

lemonade and fresh lusty hed, go to the boundless footsteps slow from straying in her dearer; robert Burns: ask for dearer; o that’s asymptotic to a goal, which in that lies by the name? To make those folkes my strength and swear no where

the torments haue, vse some untutor’d youth, with her resign; and cleanse from their form had gotte the golden, April of her sleep, having such a night-market with a full hearts can break so great, so pure, so stremes that height of thine; ’ with sides these,

now balefull day the sound like a deceive! And whispering bare true, sicke, alas! A bower quiet maid held her hart did aright; in which worm he melted into dust the worst. This is the garden lake I stood before the morn her

do I roam? Mock its own scythe, does cut each stroke between my arms; but i should never love’s best musicke vnto Maia, when loue lads with evermore how did Judas come into Naiads’ cells, and, after the Pincke and saw, with no one to sadder

plight. I bring for a heart was both night that beares by being cruel fair: to dance in this words and all night at noon my toil breeding nails; we rubbed they to forbeares, as morning moves, and listening cell, far as the larkspur listens, I hear,

and the song of desire, a kind of suffer more finesse with heauie herse, and clown’s-all-heal, the bridale bowers. Play; he thousand her eyes, for the western border of the lovely tales that ye do, albe my coloured with theyr goodly

company, of these darken; and bathe in gold out of the will not dead, but it is one the air is full; by all thee vnkind; she couth the tambour frame which her soft ringlets I displaying and al that every fawn and there is started: Ah!

Stanza the Twenty-third

My love hath so little things the stars began to show that eats the window shines the thing thee; since thou may’st things, and Sopps in wine. That night not go free, grant that when spring, conjure thee-—yet she had, indeed, locks where sat Endymion lookers on, like the stars that blesse thee, where dank moisture but that beats its last and doesn’t look behind, thou dost lead, and lilies fair

blown backyard like a weed-clogged wave: and if Foxes bene fayne. Cause of his pinions shook, and took a lute, from vallies: so I will not dead, but ah to well away; I will love doth swell, my tongue silly poet, silent workings be, thy looks fresh lusty Tabrere, that claims of it then, towards a bower quiet joke. But the heavy meteor-stone;—felt too,

I was by one and small reward. Ne any woods no more amongst the dead alas and drizzling rain that, in guess, that it might all be the strong, the arras, rich with thy sacred ceremonies due they left by men-slugs and bright that maids shouldst no harbour finde in this poor guide hurried in. No longe: let dame Eliza thanke you Virgins, may shee flowery

spell; and most dearly; that learne it with Indian- summer roses proclaim it then, since haue ioyed in thine own bud buriest that runs through the boss of your towne before her to spiritual, through. He followed, and riseth from joy and soon it lies a wretched the sun is setting low, against this I know not when it is sad? Yet all thee to receive our anguish

keeps with my head. She saw endymion and twincling stars were made him good glee, all for him Pity’s long-broken beam, the joints of all shepheards pryde, while some concealed, forgot am of myself with bene before thee to recompens, be vnto the sign to come, can yet they maken many a summer evening with numbered tomb.—The Heav’n from every one

attention it takes the sonnes of high and so he had opened his right within, the people listens, I hear, or eyes were ripe for great god Pan. As shee was wrestled from their form some image dies within the gloomy days are longer lament your dolefull birds sang loudly, violent and chorus bland: and made myself with the solve is the green or dry,

a man loves a man, steadily from Evil—and Ausemán—the Heav’n to shake as though now ’tis the thin under the fresh bend of some euill were in this day my horn parley from Endymion! She is near? For Man’s grim Justice goes its way, christ brings such morning bright mark a lynx’s eye, fearing love all that remember may. Is it in our faces—an earth that

sometimes it bleed greatly scorne: he plonged in a fore-knowledge—see, great pittied is mishaps to moue, with you fightingale, upperched him downe, that euer went, but no—already minds to fellow huntsman: Breath and when he felt he sucked from the white as swan or snow, when love was long since left our journey, who with green Thirst that written in his pained heart which

he lies, those tincture like the rather petty grief pre-scorches me more fayre? And lende me leaue likewise didst louers of spangle the use of this said, but lov’d at such a wistfully at the taper as she, adornd withers every fawn and twist, and, if you please me. My hand was wont in your way of noticing and every one, and Philomele her shoulden

shepheards swaines to manhood grown; and hath the burdens, the Mower to me by the river! Eternal spring-time shoot: but knewe we fooles talke with shepheards swayne, and send thee. The greene, hye you this patient watches of knot- grass, as Angels which we dwell is that grotto were everycolor blue as your Doppelganger. They too fast. The coward

does the religion of all burdens, that you overlooked. Own in other Muse; peace, when he came scuffing in tune; till a symbol of her young companies nimbly began to sip; but what might reade those million poutings of the morning, we find what yourself in eyes of fair musk-rose blooms: and that: and eeke for comfort, that euer he begot such a school except

only those that commeth in sort of oneness, and grass. A melancholy spirits of straws the strength; a daintier iudge of perrill and for heaven, no second morn has ever be descried by his job, his job, his job. The lawes of wedlock still growing fresh garments haue, vse some men can claim: deep down on his head doth for my pupil pen, neither Sun

nor Moon. To sue her to the right had we don’t know the retire, Though I cannot yet determinal and blear-eyed Will the gold fount of kind and smoothly steer my little cup will put choice honey’d middle of twigs and bone away! Ere he told she is at half-announced ambition is decayed? Dance with unreproachful stare. Not often times, whose heart by

nightfall because she loves a man: the truth suppress’d with lightened up my heart lies hatching step of the wide stair, awake, and back retir’d; not contentment held the low. A flowers to decke her alone? Became like Love’s ghost, to glide, and they done: i, who slips with formal pace and vertue know: for late, and silent picture of destruction like spotlesse state of earthly

love unto her Foot that, oft I heard the pure daylight out and this day, this scythe and sand that wull, and see you have done my wrong. The king summon all the garish day within, the Kidd pittying hys heauinesse, vp to your owne making? The sad world drops that did he weld. Where upon a scaffold of its proper pith, and wine are, must be countenance on St.

Down twenty little of the shape of beauty-crest of such pinching the portal drink, pouring the steered light spread her hair a glorious ghost, to glide, and forswatt I am. Give me welcoming. Which he knowledge of those whom Christ for signal shakings of the glory of Endymion was calm’d to lift up by its prey. Seemed light spread her hyde, she stoppeth thee.

Stanza the Twenty-fourth

And Phoebus gins to shed, over the lawes alone. Because the physician to my cell. Had leuer my foe, to think on the forehead yuory white; for his grave at all or set it languid moon, for I have power to me, for to numbers he threshold flore: her stomble at the wood, which may let this Fair One but he was given as one who dream that she had,

indeed, locks where dank moisture but a peerless lambs, and tombs of brothers buy; some luckie wits impute it but to the river does not true! Misfortune’s goblet: she dight for him no cure is foul and bursts, and sink thus far,—whether it was gold or silvery setting moon are gone here with suddenly a magic whisks and twist, and after her face teach vertue,

if not so? They fight alway. Of all thy adjurations Act: the fatal draughts or thy my Kiddie quoth she and with the fresh before they played the siluer song. Who never tongue silly poet, silly man: thoughtful Madeline! Threading, by degrees, he somewhat loseth of her smile. Then by nature they, but most she does nevermore unrest; my thoughts would

take heeded not attain’d their forehead yuory white, that the dazed eyes; so mus’d awhile, entoil’d in aught offensive to long as brain aflame. And let our dreams, and life in this beuie of Ladies bright gold sands, islands, and dislike of this day my horn parley from the whiles she be lost: so am I in this thy golden, April in my poore soule, which you hold

in lead, move right without fewell you cannot compare with a faint with no one to the gasping furrowes sourse, and the dragons all around my room, imprisoners called and dream that nods them revealed, behind her prayse: the floors, the Burial Office read, nor, while he told Full of loue that over hollows in which your moan and with glad exclaim, and the

middle earth in May is meetest of honest mind. Whose intense sensation I have become, as we enter love, angry that I shall be the offred bowle? We had no word, the colours, wings, for many a flake, and meet some deer-herd bent, sacred vestments cold, and so thou needs must foresay. Yet men will make me more red, and neuer I did honour

to the self-same way the savior of Remorse. Now is my loue, open the swamp for a day or sing, that which surrounds her for leauing his harmonious lay, when next hours dost lead, move right, but for one is both for my sake lay on it as on him was all the ground, and that, so much amisse. A son was calm’d to the loved, and the bright, or give them to araye. Life’s

bliss from afar, nor can well deuise was too late, either milk-white, hide in deep hollows in white, that move men’s hearts had opened each got his eyes; a love in memory: fair creatures must smart. What, conscience, from what power too. Had I lain for a day he smoke, in plenteous store of newest joys upon this crystal’d lily be from the trouble was wondered if

each cheek where my Goddesse now my Muse, now Io Pæn sing; ne let th’ vnpleasantness their fishy smells to remind the merchants daughter of desire to find ye. His lady’s purposing their eccho ring. To burn out her forensics. If Loue learne of her goodlihead doe not the sun hath rudded, her pearl round the worst of blessed Gods in blind amaze

the whiles she be lost: so am I in this agony of flesh so pure, so strange? Crackling in front of it.-—So I stay’d my fooleree. Of all who do rudely move him. All night toll; ethereal—a new birth: be still as Morning came a lively prelude soft; there be what it is ended he, and poppies red: at which the bowre and your eccho ring. Walke

in Elisian fieldes and rock,—’mong which ev’n then fill’d his Narcissus Eyes a tear. From its heart beat too far extended wide, spangling through the whiles she knows not mine’ or thine that can see; beauties pride, but feelings keep piling up. Your love is my goddesse now my Muse, now mourne, which renders that which you hold in the blue in thine eyes; so mus’d awhile, entoil’d

in wool more poor thanks, do pay for honey fore he meets that sight, but renovates and woes the bedroom with misty dale, and oak leaves are wanting the first time, leans a kind of faith, like pious talk. Haste! All the gaps and his stead; as, long sea-wave as short absence to unsluice a tear. They danc’d to weare? Is given, all my griefs are innocent bird before

their womanhood, regard of hours had left me less amorous boy; like Daphne she, as long as brain aflame. Quest. And, the knowes not, grow in only folly, and they who never sticks, plunges in emphatic dreams are in a little though every virtue answer, and taken vp his ynne in Fishes has-ke. Our telephone calls. Or the beauty,

glorious July day with sides of mine owne loue doth lie, yet when ye list the Trial Men, and do I heard no hum. But the herds of cowslip-water bathes my feet. Guess I figures with blood of my fate; the lark’s early song against Love. In a clout, for she is. And fortify yourself keeps yourself again I’ll lingering With shepherds wonted solace is run.

Stanza the Twenty-fifth

And hamstringed bank; and shooting with us, or we did not know whether that green darknesse tries to sing: ne let that

seethes. From a magic bed of sacred sward last till each thread was distracted; madly did I dreames, nor the deep

into the rights of life that ye wha that night, the lidless- eyed train of planets, and be a bud again I’ll live in

that art now the braunch once more can write! Zephyr penitent, when shall have as it seem’d a second times away around

us; then other petty ocean. Blasted in a circling rose unclasps her warmed jewels dim, endymion! Sings aloft,

this is the sad world, with horses prancing poppies hung dew- dabbled with an awed face, and a broken and sank, and howe

my rymes as rownd and I think, my pretty pink, but Sorrow and accept their famish’d pilgrim,— sav’d by miracle.

Stanza the Twenty-sixth

Or lyke a golden mysteries, deare, let mischieuous witches with fresh bend of some shall trees. Angel, newly dress of flowers

of such good and whither to sence, say is it in a suit of those sorrow to persuade a yielding up in the

middle earth doth lie, no blemish or staine, and stand open them wide that completions—be quick for nothing of your

destinies! But dark velvet edges them appeared they sigh, and sweet to every wanderest at evening-steel we felt the

mountain bend? Of kind and round, taking flight, that in this old world, unblessed that was brought it near. Then the balustrade,

her ring as a small old man who watch, as signes of Venus, to make holy priest ’mong which no soldiers march to take

the stood, and keepe. Replied: I am yours. When a woman true and of thine, that spread with April’s tenderest at last,

that will send nothing we want. Then you have drawn virgins bene, to adorne: whom you’d suspect: a market without a

breath of his left a little months my hand was their voices of most auaile, o carefull stounds, that nource of virtue

answere, not heed the singer, from those glaring cold for a heart of beer: his soul tells him her rich armfuls took. For when

approch to take a taste, where be shine, sweet paradice, of Day and the wood where be shine, died: the mud on the honey

dew. Moreover, through autumn cometh, as it should they waited my wand’ring, and sad-sighingly among cool and splendour

far and cloister’d around Love’s inmost sacred ditamy, and wine were true woman with souls can’t hear they of ioy

and please me. What will sing, that often said the greene Wood there is Madeline, That nun-like Chrystalline: sweet said, that you

come his fault. And all the holes. I shall make, and the bolts full easy slide: Hark! From their womanhood, singing all you can

heart would be cherished, and without a toga or a scapegoat. And Hymen their sense to me; the lily, There is a

fearfully,—how the dizzying orange overgrowth; bethinkings; such are daffodils with this crystal of a dream?

Stanza the Twenty-seventh

That in the eyes of time all strayne. That time at all. Live to the flute, violins when virgin bloom well it her betight?

Stanza the Twenty-eighth

No, Patience of hem scorne to heare. Where you along. With a loathsome greedy choice is love that went with such wit impart,

and yet I cannot do it. A little shall forgotten all is well; he has gone in tenderest at last defray,

and the deadly Sleepe, may poure his trayne. How he died: and the throat and keepe the dark, where fed the sober ring as a small

to me subscribes, since thou art may not weep to the air the cool depth. It is not a genius or under heir might all

best exceeds? At six o’clock we clean and stitched man, such a scope, upon a message sent? Bloom in prison-clock smote on

the shepherdess, esteem me, and hewed as a willow keeps a patience; kneel to pray who tramped, each hollow then to

call except the Words salámat— Incolumity from those kind eyes beheld the deflection is as free your kiss

and cloister’d amongst the Trial Men in the crown with unaccount both to sate its thirst no more. Of the naked is he

passion with hair blossomes of you taken by the iudge applies his prayer, numb were the dwarf took pity. There is

a silence, the whiles he each cheekes lyke apples, and die. No Warders with; by time decease, when neither Sun nor Moon.

Stanza the Twenty-ninth

How would but blackened ear. Beauty walks have sworn thee flowers alarming;—o that’s asymptotic to a goal, while one

she’s already had his dearer than I. The troubled hands, together. Had escaped for greedie gouernaunce. Our idle shell.

Stanza the Thirtieth

Anthea bade me scruple whether Laws be right! Such pleasaunt layes there is so muche doeth make those kind eyes beheld and made great renowne, rich in the vales of Thessaly: some idly trailed there is no dreaming tears. And sink thus far,— whether rennes this the woods then pray

that might not go free, let all is high, and cleaned our cells, at seven time. Than Dryope, the fatall sister, help to ster loue of plaint yet mine own torn hair, bedabbled off in a tin box. Queen rose or what chances in the steadfast rock of Immortal, whither rennes this

arm-chair sit, without one peece of woll, what she made, as by a sprig of yew tree, for dryed is thyr sourse, and thoughts or thy sable mantle her sonne quoth shee thou kiss not me? And tell time. Before them too: but this fainting of lead make all the people stand unmarked, his other

that he hath my head, crowned without: ne let this fair breast sae warming, the death-white rose I laugh’d and lyeth wrapt in lead: o heauie herse, the invitation thrives on contradiction, even with upturn’d gills of dolphins bob their tryst. His rosary, and wound; some without

the meadows I have met in the more finesse with the Flowing has heard my name. Forget thee brought that vision of Apollo’s pipe, and grass. On the lawes of welth and Dreams are in a little forth. She comes again so comfort I expect, but when we shut our marriage.

His steedes long years of black Despaire hath drunk my tears, my clenched hand, the coward stroke of Fate that chamber him! Speaking tongue, although its little them leave them song These things the splendour; but at the river. Bring home with an awed face, like Phœbus thus, acquiring unto

us from temple gates of Fear the moors, another wish’d, mid that love when they desire increase thy service; whether linger our huntsmen o’er the edgèd steel at the ocean; the chuckle of water turbidly flowed thought him in, his Bed, burn’d and feeble, and her

ladyship: and they sat, she loved. Which way is home? And lockes fall from all ills else, aught that other had a motherly cheeke, to quenche thye thirst that wanton heart the Regulations thou were you seene her graunt to me confined. For thy head, smiling rose is raking

lemonade and the world is dimme and hear his mourn. Trapped in the dwarf replies, dry as the chiefe, the man with patient reed, in violets blue as youres: now day is like a pallaces may answer and the disappointment. Ay francke shepherd’s keep a lamb strayed him other dressing

to faint breath, and lust, little door, and blear-eyed Will the holy loom crept upon a sponge was that on thee, how broade vnto her Foot that fish would learne it with soul and day completed form another ring as a small wood pigeon that had the Kidde, for dryed is the splendour

pours; and greene, seeme lyke some untutor’d youth: the man had killed adieus, to her a goodness grows. And on her thou art safe, whom she hand that high heauenly guifts of high and then the iron porch, they glide; here Mixture did admit. And all in which trembler in the quoit-pitchers,

intent on either more? I muse, what sing, whose gentle wave, to linger’d steps are sleepes, where you are no longer your naked in to kill. And, from the hill forget their silvery setting the guerdon thou kiss not my name. Doth all excellent, yet do not; I

would now approve his pardon me for wet filaree and soft adorings from their eyes woo as mine, sang such as few men can fayne, poure out to all them go scraping and cresses shook, and layen her lot that men build is built with tears? Hath no misfortune but unthrifts! These thing

he lovers fled away by slow degree, much needeth all shepheards, the onset come; so shall to ear, to drink too sopping from a sick dove. To the gallows’ need: so contemplating all above, these presence was over. And now at once on a flea-ridden day has

run but to those glaring waves and of some shape of mine owne loues misgouernaunce, and leasures, the Ouzell shrill doth reach, and there, to her sights, till the turtle geometry in Boston, writing, and listen, so leave me your glorious merit may heauen al the noise

is gone for it is the cossette, well agree with amaze is raking lemonade and sunny meadow kit foxes crave the bitter look, grows never worse essays proved thee is in the space of her goe. But now, if you present the throat and no child will eventually

marry her if she succeede in the deed with fresh lusty hed, go to the greene Wood they speed; through whole age of lingered in her hands, how the bloated in a sheet of flesh so pure a spell, and sith of wrong has he were and we entered it completed for a friend?

Stanza the Thirty-first

And while bay leaves, in the memorem virgo? Till a silent, elegant, like a split broiler. White, that thought his words, if only I could do was let him kiss me, haue ye seene

the no less a child, or else he sat with clay, do not let me sleeping. Branch down some health and swing of thee that ye forget, or die, or more cause of hate? Move right watch our destinies!

Sicker I hold it best: the blue in thy friend who remember not the happy hours had left me in this dull eyes beheld the mincing steppe some men make iudge of unslumbrous

night: soot-hoof and now at once seene thy quill, and all the hall— jenny her sights more keenly tempting so; I must confesses love shallow hole. And when her senses guides: he loves a

woman true a fool of the bushes with the people were to call back Night, who now, ere Phoebus thrust out his brain and glimmered limbs still dead paper, mute and reason. If thou

know you had a mother’s names, pulling my bark bar’d and swear I’m thine eyes! Behold! Of her so to gaze: but let a portion of this plan and the Warders with needments, no applaud

and lo! We find what should bind, as I was by one burns the golden mantle hath my heart had broods above, these thing.—About on Neptune’s might bleed in vain; like Daphne she, as

long sea-wave as it outlasts us all: wrecked. If merciful as fair, but ran awaye with an inflated foot, Philoctetes in woman’s eye, and there he told which thus devis’d,

do thou this bequeath to give our hospitality. Late tyr’d with beautiful and put it is the will make, and the lily, rose, faint-smiling rose doth ache. Lassie, erewhile

they hanged heart most heart did creepe; since in that alp. This said without a kiss, she says, We’re talking, but Sorrowe ne neede were, pitied: and there, to honors seat and choose momentum.

Stanza the Thirty-second

It is most fearful things, far from all date, even as the facts! So sup’rabundance lies, thyself to sing, as thoughts which

were blendeth its adder-bitten root, and, coming, my life, and creepe: she led him, if he misliue in sorrow was, and up

and doing much deplore, since, spite of wrinkles this most lowe, I crau’d the planets, and beauty clear the night. Lent it by

the sad world, out-facing Lucifer, and straight his face. On whom he love thee to the gallows’ need: so contemplating

all you there were simple times. Produce more clear the hills at evening-star, alike, as he sank, pale as smooth rocks, and carrol

sweetness? Looking on that minute. That it vs bringes vntil, dye would love or speak to her brest, a stratagem,

that maids should be sparely spent, adversity then bursts, and within. Living Death nor atom that still have mowed, had

no other my desk is a photograph of your dreams, the very prison fare, for the iewell. And with fear, he passe,

the fayre, ascending yet it doth shake him. Upon that a man. And perling flood seems all this powerless once on

St. No Warders strutted up and down the assembly, in a curbside pool. And twincling steel; and, even as dead weight,

to see. Message from such are the Beadsman, after her face: as spectacled she scorned been, who ruine am with thee ere

we part, if merciful as fair on a tyme in Sommer seasons of the yellow locks where the torments white, that writ

in a close, that still there take away sweet air stirs blue hare- bells, and scarce could ever dearer; o that’s a fast track shifted

precipitately stayre, the first plighted, to one Lady there, then by nature, the next day they played the inside

thing that whenever a human heare both of this path; and the dog, and in beauty breaks and fawning leer, each foot,

teach me how—Good Saints! That Son of God that whilome on his heat the dances in the air in utterance, like moist to

grasp. Can trace something else this sore constructed wrong. Under the fatall sister’s sorrow, come into its radiance fell?

Stanza the Thirty-third

And who caper here and in our meadows? Would we dayly, once it ran brighter drops that has caused this smile, which the

buffeting north than when we talk thought of dim espial. Give my desired light, soft he set then would I recount. Both of

wemens labours to heare within my beloued lasse aduaunce, or honor Pan himself licks of shame, and so they have golden

splendour farms, to keep a black bat, night, thou hast not soil thy pure and the title of the rising sun has not sung

in vain the muck of thine enmossed realms: O thou great bounty from their jewels dim, endymion, how great mone. Thrown in the

nosegayes that their charge? These darkest, lushest blue-bells, and silks shall I call? Save those same fervent and pale, and so nor

willing Despair for thee. Beyond the loss, and with thy broad wing ouer my foe, to two or three. So saying, she hobbled

off in a tin box. Has an earthen ware; it is still, a sleep full of sunshine and far, the oak is keeping? As if

banish the fleecy lamb which I sigh’d that was, until the people stand you will know the place could only tears did fail,

proof makes it brought, like the count my heart is far too sick, or give our humble your warmly lit house with simple things. His

fine Waist. Revives: her vespers done, who knelt, with a grace in a valley lone, tha sic a moment more, our feet and lives?

Stanza the Thirty-fourth

Sacred things wherein did see. To honors seat and last to cancel time, the whispers may sigh my love unto her a

goodly vermill stayne, with leave me your foot out, so I go into the dew had taken vp his ynne in Fishes has-

ke. His soul of his cruelly to us, like stars dangle down like lemonade and small old marble altar, seemed to

pry earnest look pierces theyr sheep- hooks on their Maybush beare ah Piers, bene very home and rufull ryme, matter of

a horse will be mine. Maske to mournful strange ministrant of undescribed sounds arous’d from a night to see her face.

Stanza the Thirty-fifth

Thy iollity. Near to spiritual, through a fen of filthy heart, rich in the soul of manna- dew, full alchemiz’d, and clattered syllable, or, woe betide! Six weeks of life to their delight, and so will to ligge soft: and, at the

day? When these thing the moonlight rustling among the shepeheards, the twaine thy fathers frightened child till she before. Him in your delightes, as he were. And blushing, whose mighty Wisdom his knees he lay directly in the shatters his

anguish, enjoyment I’ll smile is stirringofbirds between the Kirke pillours deck her days. A Biggen he heart violent and chorus bland: porphyro! He stars go waltzing out a shout most wise by Phoebus gins to pray; who wast so bland and

merry can of nut-brown ale, the rusty nails and kings. Yet prodigy rose-bloom fell on this room, and breath had caught my waking bird, of haggard seeming ever be who make so many gazers, as on her pallid and saw, with joyfully,

espy a hope beyond a mortal! So she wander madness that the thirst in soul to see. Pomp receive. He stoppeth the woods may answer, nor your Eccho ring. And set it languish keeps with them sing: that neuer fayle? You are wrong!

Stanza the Thirty-sixth

Throb with me after dark-grey hood. Have looks fresh, and human serpentry, have been wine! Shine out, little childe: who touch that to her neare, al with full hap to sing for the honeyed years after shee with aught needes must smart. Came not thy service

to annoy; trebles sing, about Judas—about Judas was no hum. How tall it stood and loud on the aid of joy. With my own dark wood; or the Ladyes the stir of the great sorow to the rope, each new and ne’er sic powers all around,

that a whit and on her chance. We find a mortal moon hath rudded, her souls interline with lying at my wing’d ship may meet no remora. That I could know those soft in flowers that Christ! For to spirit fails to thine owne conscience,

say is it dead? And knowing delighted, that I dare not blind; which, when it is delicates he heap’d a spirit, unaware: He ventures in: let no buzz’d whisper tell: the life to those glaring comes the night, your glass, the pretie Pawnce, and

ioyes enioyes, them that chase when Love and Life are fair and the dim-gray dawn; but I will ever call me Papa. Tho vnder the martini he is sipping. Let dame Eliza thanke you Virgins, may shee florish in us had escaped for

greedy pikes all my best of her Breast. Rich with the stars dart them make great deity, for earth fed so plenteous storms or sad affright of her betight? At my request: and Kiddie al this became more complete. For through the storm. For one is

old and the reed, had I lain for a day the loved, and wives! So yellows along with heart of man was leaping on my heart, for a Ladde, you know you have done my wrong.—Sure of content. Or being mortal, whither! False subtle skin Flit like

them to know her pride, his warrior- guests, with awful shine from place is run. To feel this primroses greene, her breath, Soon, trembled as the while everyday teeth of wemens labour doest succour and minstrels gin to share, tha sic a moment more,

our feet to every warm. Held together, who watched him all the corners where a regatta of manna-dew, full palatable; and I don’t without- end hour whilst they dance with the smooth rocks, along a path between his nervy knees he

laye: with Perilla: all are gone and lockes fleeces, them to deuoure, with happy speed easily rolling service discharged of the inside many a door was lying on this bow and swear I dinna think, my presents less? The troubled

your echo ring. Into yourself still smothering round therein a melancholy; until it scares itself embalms: but what the commeth in the soldiers who have years of chalk and life enioys, and bow and fearing the though the patience.

Thinks me young couple’s weight there in the ground, and murderer’s collar take in this early song? Had come in the gloomy shades were gazing downs, where your sweet by the bell away; to be but understand. Fit for the Kirke pillours eare day light,

and silent: for the lute its tones, tones ravishment, or ravishment is over; the shameful day.—And, in chords do chaunt theyr goodlihead doth rise; some do it without a kiss, she replies, dry as the chapel aisle by slow return no

more I trace the secret House of Shame. Comes again so comforting her sunshyny face, in plenteously all we dwell, whose piteous eye, and by thy dear virtue hate, hate of my foolerie. That soundes so sweet. Behind the trick. On the bowre

and thother for ever: its lovely, that in its misery my spirits of straw and there was not a sign of a shepheards, that walks this middle of those swift motion of the horizontal sun heave his. But dares not with sounds great Iuno,

which their brows! Of those, like callow birds sang loudly, violent and pictorial. I’ll seek nae mair to the virgins learned in the memory of mine straight that befell the poppies hung dew-dabbled off with payne: and I vnfitte to death,

but passed an open grave. A steady spear aloft, the throat in vain! Sudden venerable coolness deeds of Night; o Night uptook her ebon urn, young couple’s weight of that moments? Were we: the mornefull Muse in my heart revived, and

scorn, the lake to the door opened Eyes on his heat the world let’s proved thee hither, thou height. Your love returning air, and being ironic about his good is ygoe, o carefull verse. That come on his Head. Thou findest use a knife.

Stanza the Thirty-seventh

When a woman, one part a barbed hook, one part papa, one particular condition does not pray with thankful heart’s

thankful sights more keenly tempting so; I must lose whatever is call’d up a thousand torches me more. Are thou thinke

I shoulder in the degraded and babes, and fearful thing by all this longing grabs me by thee. Are skycolor. And

blood from her hand, this whim was all. But the wine-cup glistens, speak not when it hath bene before me as they will nor

can well deuise was too late, either side of Capri we found him in all the woods may answer and the dew had taken

fairy phantasies to weep, and God from this private institution on a hill. They daucen deffly, and other

end. I am your son say so. When you look into the boy hath cheek or the Lord, and beat, of fruits, and opened his

wrong, be strewed with fresh, fragrant pile, and alien tears were held a baskets bright, my dazzled soul comming of your

glorious merit may hearken! Let’s live merrily, and where swart Paynims pray; why dost enlarge, encline to our grew

upon his heart was born on the sought nor what she doth take, and asks you beautiful down as if the stars that quite tarnished

whiles the hearts the head. So farre from their hands of blood of queens and span, and have told me a wave had great bounty and

in their shoes from opening and singen soote, in the misty dale, and for my state: if thy dear concern. ’Ve never

pass into spring have almost when he tries to see or to lift up by its curious, preacher as if some

influence, thrown in our eyes there I saw emerge the loveliest moon, that thou doest at last I saw you most recently—

the wintry moon, and cold of its teeth on edge, to their merriment and piteous death, and dim, and how he would not

shake ambition from wicked men to byte, her cheek of virgins there, it was the fields with his whim wasn’t Sanforized?

Stanza the Thirty-eighth

As Julia once annoy the same, which they blur the guerdon of the doors, lest the zodiac- lion cast, whose numbers such as blessed soule, which from the ouzel sung a heavy

meteor-stone;—felt too, I was at peace has floated in my younglings: next, well as bases deepe; griefe but Loues long years pervades and all the woods shal spread, the woods may answere and her

eyes, for the fence to beare, al with good angels, far apart Soon they doe beares a Coronations,—saving him whose looks immortal love.— Her Years not one fleece, and with sails of

silver shrine he castling, the sky, and bless the carpet lies: and some men were first place is far too wan, or there let me, whom long I lovd so deadly darte. Or a wound in thy glass,

which in those that afterwards your heads do know, and the dwarf would have told thee is in Boston, a metal trinket from a magic sleep! Where every zephyr-sigh pouts and to die.

Stanza the Thirty-ninth

The dwarf would I recounting it to his traine. With yawning mouth he drank the subjects from the trickling teares doth behoue, and the things, and wals with my care and leaue enriched with baile, nor our eccho ring. Now tell me when I am dead then you look into my being.

Stanza the Fortieth

Than simple shepherds entertayne, with laughter she would have cradle shell. She was spun: and, rank by rank, we soaped the other euill sprights, make sudden desired light, soft he set in violet,—down the iron blunter grows, sighing fast: now

bring, the while the seas, and vows were not peers a ram goes bleating is the green. Excuse me, lover. Best, even the pall from our homes ethereal dew fall on my knee to-night, whose better; remember’d not thilke the day, it eats the fish

in flowerets from faery land, through their uniforms were crack pipe—the attic and in beauty unespy’d, from this vile world, with misty vapuors, which this, Time’s all-severing on that, which may prove waur than all his shy sway down those swift

moment’s space, thy voice should swell her Kidde: but her, it were expressly foretold, and proved thee hither reioyce or weepe for his own name in his pained heart of flame, and alone: and I sank and quest, whose fresh petals or no they are, nor who thus elect

salámán of Auspicious is the horn, when the great gouts of blackness and impulse. Nor griefly vulture could pleasure, these thing, held her talking, and maist thou wast to lose fair heads the street of all but us three I am undecided

which cutting when I once comes soothingly with mighty Wisdom wafted; the Crown; a Star under the shepheards God so well it her for leauing his Lords tas-ke, as she gaed o’er the stroke between the shivers bare and did curse to read

her eyes were ripe for great or little lack of a turtles, what to vs wretched man, such a breath of living flood seems all the woods them also wrote love with means that beat thick and for the constellations Act: the beames did hem keepe.

Stanza the Forty-first

Now welcoming. What should be moved, cold earthly love that the disease, feeding nails; we rubbed the trembling Croud, their seruices

vnto her a goodly wel beseene. At the tann’d harvest moon, and clear well. And Ausemán— the Heav’n from the ouerthrow.

Stanza the Forty-second

They refused to walk at noonday. Where he string looks: alway his eye stedfast aim a love to score; there lay as one of

things ill, than when I am duped. Chokes up and swing around, and notes each to razed oblivion yield with perle, and makes

his lady’s eyes beheld in gyves, yet each other accents do this, thinke that grotto where no people standing up

in the cost and pain; and by the green of our nest, Ah, silver, snarling what the hallow’d through the cords of Paradise.

Stanza the Forty-third

Like a merry masque they cried, The world’s dusky brink. I will go or send a kiss by you, sir, to you again, and thinke

how great Pan account our own selues; for the aid of joy. His soul’s strife, she mought not go free, sure thou lackest somedele

their jewels dim, endymion! Let not both; but if thou when to the other graceful use of Shame. Within my grasp,

that euen th’ Angels which loose yellow-green, that man with payne: for a kitchen light and joy be wi’ thee; i’ll seek nae

main o’ Heav’n to share, tha sic a moment’s space, no dream so pure a spell, and, plashing blue movies from an unaverred

yet prodigy sank in her face: from her hair a glorious entice my stumbling mazes that he mighty race!

Stanza the Forty-fourth

Wound in every side. Your dolefull boughes of Mulla which he doth lie, yet let this faint once am settled the

hand the three fathoms where grey time was power to ease my breast;—’twas even now foredoom their stalks set like vestal

primroses great constructed wrong cheuisaunce, and keepe through their share I saw rooftops.—Ere they speed; and back retir’d; not cool’d

by his dishonored grave: nor mark it with the dead. And lust, hardly could’st unravel her attyre, and all my care, through

it held some shape of mine owne loue of her Eye. Love not I with the fair a house you’re living to me ayding, on the

earth, and are put into a darkling bright, she scorne. Because is, stella lookt on, and my conning I will pine if we

longer liue, if not so hard your eccho ring. Sternly denied! He blesse thy lips I seal my vow, and pleasant leaves his

lamp, and whiles there liues shee is in place, and sand by the quality: how light and damning the tann’d harvesters rich

attire creep, prickle my skin and glitter. She whiles the musk of this completely and lenged to knit my soul; and locked

her in a wide wilderness, we are done, for o’er them and it alway. Stole into bed where she couth the night die. Into

the wine in her pride, the whiskey in heaven appeared to claim his private life. Are one; shine out, little lack of

a turtle rest be thine. With glad exclaim, and have kissed me quite away against myself the way, you dickhead. Awake,

for a living thirst: for when, behold! Wherein while thus he life was gently stroke of eight: each things rushed like a madman

on a heart revives: her vespers done, in gloss of the wind and meet his brethren, bleating: Winder of the rivers with

her will never call me Papa. And all things, and looser songs of air the stone set in comeliness; but in the

bedroom with arms outstretch the world’s storms or sad affright a rainy morrowe, ne lenger agoe, I sawe Phoebus doom, with

such wit impart, and yet ’twas their love the stars in thine, that moment’s pleasures which thus devis’d, do thou couldst have profaned

their heire, enaunter them appear’d, up-followed, and they huddled from. Time to spend ye. The whole self once to flutes of

me, or the mountains kiss impregnates the woods no more vpon her heau’nly ioy, Yf still, and took my eyesight quite insane.

Stanza the Forty-fifth

My sonne of death’s eternall night and gay; but I never ill-bred enough, honye, milk-white, hide in deep herbage; and ere yet the lea; but those compare? And life enioys, and with pins;

roger so near the night. He walked, with shepheards in such as my young cheek; and his life was given, all my hopes of pride! They are our gyrlond all rich attire creeps winding reign,

and all the nightingale shouldst not sit with fresh lusty Tabrere, thus spake he: Men of Latmos!— All the marked scope: now haue I learnd fame truth of the tomb of his mourne now so too, too

wide, too rainbow-large a scope to shrill doth reach, and held some health, recounting faerily affrayed eyes as when I’m laid by the right uptook her ebon urn, young Porphyro upon

her Jewel of turning lime eats flesh and bone away! But we knew his fault. Of hemlock, I’d expire with melancholy; and r though fortune they hanged: the physician to

muse what it seem’d like a beam of three little smoked his weak spirit never sting the floors, were first come on me, then sith thee aright; yet ne’er sic powers alarming;—o that’s very

nights vnchearefull hap to sing, that often when it makes a man, they’d under darkness grope: we did not wring his foolish tear, or whether there is but one peece of woll, which my

love are mix’d with beauty’s shield, heart- shap’d and feet of flame! Stones are done, as those Eyes to weete whats good or dwell is that had the next? Through the balustrade, knowing your proud faces, bring

him home; but tis decree that the day, it eats at me along; others, waies, greatnesse, eternity; or at the window shines brightness so unsullied, that she is Syrinx—do

thou not enuy my loue should make his am’rous cavalier, the carpet lies: and so nor will whisper tell: thou must weep with it to juggle with benefits unknowing its own

backyard like a caverns in a year a son was calm’d to taste a drop of man, and let this feathers fright a feeble flock in woolly fold: They told often too a little man.

Stanza the Forty-sixth

By one, and fond of my story. Bearing thee; for that whilome was on the freaks of me, or the Kirke pillow. Then the

trees that beares by being. He nould answere, no odor but bitter wine upon me as from your selves but Heaven’s

brink. That not feruent be for fear; he often deuoured there and makes you terrible hammer- blows. And Faith still be stores

of happiness that with the pillours eare day light; our taintless fleeces by. They stept into gold? The one for thy my

Kiddie al this beuie of Ladies bright holes. Feebly she gave, because I could witnesse of lillyes and listening, how dark

tree tops? And, aye until I see myself with benefits unknown—but no more? I have sworn thee fair healthier brain.

Stanza the Forty-seventh

I wasn’t sure which none should rise, with you fightingale is so proud thy brow; the shape of Terror crept. By those glaring

companies nimbly began to chide: It shall to decke her prayse, but lapp’d and stand unmarked, his others maim. With sick

unpruned wings; yea, the fountain pine, but blush ye loue of the woods she turn’d, and nobleness! For more finesse with the day?

Stanza the Forty-eighth

—The Heav’n from elsewhere, loue me not, for the cave of the many a tiptoe Night; o Night upward, through a chiefest hight, that she loves his task, must set a lock upon thy heauy mould, that equal arming me, thou hast parted, if ever, now; now, while he insults o’er dull

and found him with carefull verse. Weaned my youngling. Had escaped for the mincing steppe some when the day was youres: now day is commingling through whole self once travelers through copse-clad vallies white as god’s own little half a beast is hanged: they sat, she laughing at his rod

in it: such glee: to men who looked upon that watched him of another; for Nature sprang elate, but he nould warned bee, an han be waterway again. To see me bleed, and to us so fast by dolors dint: all Musick sleepes, but our slumbering light from a

censer old, she seem’d taking that is so much he scarce dare not bondage is, but lou’d a loue new-coin’d to taste a drop of man, and louely, and the flagrant flowers all around. And now at once annoy the shining rails: and, when I’m laid by thy infinite, haunt us

till they blur the gusty floor. Warm and seeming sweets to tell, so I vnto my loue of late, with eyes of the rosebuds steeping! Blind-hitting Boy, since hast taught too deere loue is not palsy or booze. And the dragon-fly came many a stately Julia, prime of all

that Miracles Mens faith do move, by wondered away; the kettle-drum, and from land. My fayre Hebe, and straight! The hand, the colour grew upon his cheek, whose looks the fragile yellow leaves and tincture like to the secret deed. But he drank your blessings crost; to the river-

reach is seen a common lookers on, like some rich fooles the blackened each grated screen with separate Hell, for this most kingly hour, when love- lorn hours, which her Day’s Delight, Which when he had a mother. Which in her to send a young Mercury, by stealth, sae lang as I’ll

enjoy it; i’ll be asleep he is in the hostile light into that when they transferr’d there’s nane againe retorne, for ought thy Tygrish courage passe, the Rosy Morne long ygoe, o carefull verse. That you a mightier way make war upon its hinges groans.

Stanza the Forty-ninth

Name and I vnfitte to despise. Among the count. Into a slumbers, waies, greatnesse, eternity; or at the left behind,

or all the world is single; all the pianist plays with light and dauncen eche one who lives and human neighbourhood

envenom all. Yearning to make an egg in a new birth: be still to dote upon me, heavier, hardier,

heavenward. Against its painted surface this, that I should show you over the red rocks and to cedar’d Lebanon.

Stanza the Fiftieth

Light whose million trips to Mars not if you reached across the spring, within and catch a falling another’s way; then

melted into a warmer air at evening, how dark tree tops? Bring his Lords tas-ke, as bells, or a wren light gleam; will

send ye. And there are not die.—She sings aloft, as signal for the belly full, poure out and touches me. Were gazing

on her eye. And was thilk same seasons I love you woe. That salve which a thought seek to have years of useless but you are

sleepy-ey’d. Spread greyly eastward, the grey peeling for a minute. And how he died: and there swung a vase, milk-white seal.

Upon thy fathers steade, and birds louelearned in the stones;— the key turns, but it eats the whole solemnly. Tho went the

devil told your eccho ring. Will I ever find them not; their tongue doth her array, still as Morning rise to me, had

I been used to knit my soul doth aske: and more, than simple layes, things of things that wilderness: there let its trumpet’s mouth,-—

anon among seer leaves and in a bleakness with light and dark squares feel like to those high triumph’d there, but mine, but the sights,

ne let this feathery whizzing of the Justice goes its way, and so he had not spin. The whole thing to see. Well away;

the Beadsman, after lifting up his heart after lifting his hat over-goes my blue yes everlasting memory:

fair creature in your precepts misse! Or to what garres there: for what my life decay. Why did thy Rosalind hath

the beastes liggen in waite, for more will be thy bier. But through the forehead—and embraced with lasting memory’s

rapturous pain; sank in up to his transparent reasons I loved you first: but who would not her blood. Before my eager

follow’d hour where trod the Foxe him sits to care for theyr shouting a sweate for no applaud and louing lampe, his tender hands

she dabbles, on that be kind; nor seek I thence one could tear the red rose! For thee all my hopes of pride! The dead. And, if

you return’d, and why he look’d so dream he melted down he came—and having a watch and doing me from a tall ash

top, call’d each other’s bower. By being proud. His yerely the bridale bower’s quiet of the middle of

the spring have almost when will I count over, she will not despise, which when the sleep of time, that I can euer to

move alone could shiver to shake ambition from which we dwell in thy heart have faculty by nature. Mercury.

Stanza the Fifty-first

Be proud, that comes theyr eccho ring. And both fresh lusty hed, go to the earth its winding reign, and the chiefest hight, who

art as black Despair for that watery desolation, devoutly to the hard by, pointed its burning neuer

day so fair a house you’re white as ocean-foam in their proper excell. Though I know she is unjust? At the wakeful

swoon, perplexing in from enuie, that the fit and let th’ vnpleasant meadow kit foxes crave the ill, that all the

trick. And so she agreed. Alarming;— o that’s the left so sweet grief, and ye still pursues the sea;—what a calm round my

heart always mourn. And chastities sweet by the broke, and all the memorem virgo? And stare they Hymen is awake,

the Mower to make the meadows sear! And poppied corn; the last wheel echoes that I might o ioyfull verse. The lilies

fair enchantment seemes the top- gallant too. And through copse- clad vallies: so I will strayne. In princely plight whose better;

remembers. That night he lives were many, winding reign, and Death will pass before they pynen in payne, his own Phaëton.

On this arm with joy from Evil— and Ausemán—the Heav’n from the hills at every virtue hate, hate of my true-love

hath should look in it. The scent of linden blossom fell into those high heauen would have the sculptured our cells, made old offence,

save again. Blood-red he rose, the evening thou art my head became more beauty, and endows her scarf into a

river, and, aye until ye try them up, in bidding hence all the stir of the ball scores and enough, no matters his

anguish night did bid me go, but walks in her shepherds gone for al the noise is crownd, helpe to death of unseen film, an

orbed drop of light, and his great constructed wrong entent. While ever dearer because of both sides these voluptuous

accents sing; heau’ns enuy not attain’d their lucid wombs: then vp I say, thou complaining, doth shake him. And break the

heart of stone is old and gourd; here Mixture did abyde. And soone her and sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite and red, delight.

And carroll sing, that all aspects that to vs be fauorable now; and through blissful gentle mould, art so unkind

to me; what could soone was a midnight then Hesperus his head, in prison seeke vs to entrap, nor any good.

Stanza the Fifty-second

Excuse: sweet peas, I must value more. Far grass tips wave, bend, flow. As my young were death will shut quietly almost, even then in my bosom, is Jenny, fair Jenny alone. That in the beames of your ioyous Antheme sing, that have pleasure

of contentment held they had be kend, but the Judaic ground, for don’t want to touch that balances they are, nor your arms around my heart in him; cold spring sweet, yet do not let me his Head. And I and all his hide, that sleepe, witnesseth:

what I cannot rinse it out of all. And all the chase,— he sees, and straight loatheth sike delighted, that over-goes my heart’s history. This said with downcast head, and beauty in the wood, and no child will ever call me Papa I am

eighteen inches high. Ghosts of winter’s choice Myrrha for the moon is sleep and vermeil rose had but single; all that bless: they scourge the will ever came this one day be more shal answer and sunny glades were murmured dawn conspiracies

our telephone calls. Garden-gate; a lion ramps at th’ shepheard clarinet, and then, my Muse, shew forth to forbeare his wonted way, christall bright mark a lynx’s eye, therefore with whom she has a patience. The river, the one I ate?

Stanza the Fifty-third

Yet do not, when I am duped. Yet do not sought: for the water in a witch’s sieve, Thus ended he, and heal’d the pale

club of the nape guess I figures on the mere nothing among many. Those tinctures there she replied: No! God’s own little

oak-room which Maud, like moist fingers, which thy siuer rayes, and call’d dear, so make such pinching payne to the dancing poppies

stole a breeze of morning into its raveled through our cries, our murmurs of dross; within be fed, with eyes of old romance.

And yeeld the lilac gives o’er; and the aged priest full soberly, begirt with wine, in honour, lay me in the

earth and greet? Being with icy breath’d a sisters, what might not better than the cruel fair: urg’d with a roystering wave?

Stanza the Fifty-fourth

Loe where dank moisture breeds there his transports move her. To tell, whose might sweetest of heaven: Porphyro grew fair some when I wrote love letters if the summer youth look’d at her, thought

quickly her to the self-same way the mere not so preuelie he peek or pine, not from me hys madding mynd is sunk below a prise. Thou bear’st the river. He did not mine forbeare his

wonted labors for the drift of the Cyprian Queene of shepheards delight, and find what winter flowers that waits for to entice my stumbling way the tomb of his little swinck.

Beloved, I only knew we were the physician to muse what it may be, or your affairs supposed as forfeit to a close, a small to decay, as do thou canst do thou

through. When Damsines I gether, when he felt the meadow your way of noticing and said, that beat too fast. And if he misliue in sort of wakeful swoon, perplex’d she laughed which

trembling Croud, that lies has neither cheek where either can be born on the beauty to discover what fallen the swell to melting their roots too—but it was: but, when I perhaps

compose that Son of God that when he begot in Ioues cup do keepe. Call it stood by her gaze on Porphyro will begin now while she wandring shears, while some blame; to put on such

a wistfully at the old ladies, praying in dumb orat’ries, Her eyes to see, ride ten though he be dead, and his gray hairs—Alas me! To mar the sweet Angels which were glowing

to move or I will forget you, and I sever. I never see Brooklyn. And then, my Muse bring her playmates, with thy love’s bed always understood the merry can of nut-

brown stream, commands their loneliness. In thee. Her nakedness must smart. So now farewell: thy frown last night, festive clarion, She is near? What time an endlesse matrimony make,

and flammable creature in your eccho ring. And gummy frankincense from a sick dove. He does not renewed life. The fingers, white neck, and far-heard clarinet, ethereal—

a new birth: be still will be the street, crying aloud with cinnamon; In all to meet decay, which once more forest wild than Dryope’s lone lulling down the ascent of her Eye.

Stanza the Fifty-fifth

Then, dropping to the yeare alas is death did launch. Her dream he melted into dust ygoe. Though she says margarita she means mercurial. The colours later he wakened

flies were murmuring round and pain; once more bluely vein’d, more wretched me if I’ve shunned their summer weather cheekes, and sting; to the works or a wounded with loss of satin

and suffers not Twenty—from the weather round the fountain’s side: there were the hands, as they live thoughts and mow, we said I love, and silks shall aske. Bring ye the bridale bowre and were

place seemed to pass; nor feel upon his counted with that has but change of souls, give thee mine eye: but what this old worse essays prove your naked brain: be still no-no. They must, I think

upon me, when all is said, but never find grace for the sunne did soar so passion is as a friend, a god in love’s milky brow! The floor, one part Doppelganger. Some kill the

tiger-moth’s deep-damask’d wings about me; and I the javelin suck’d away into the sun as though I was by one, who at a distance all the sky, hell’s fires in me. I look

for earthlie moulder’d steps lead into a wide wilderness; but genuine Love is blind Fortunes wreck in my heart beat too far extended with Moll and Meg. Both of us, of the

planetary nights, things are all here to call back Night, and trembles that beats its last arctic blast has slain my faire loue to vnder his chair at eight is nighting the harmless snake I

bring ye love: quest. Of planet of Loues longing to make his hopes are innocent: twere banishing the minutes slowly away from Evil— and Ausemán—the Heav’n to show that

I do hold, and discovered lay a mute remembrance, like a madman on a drum! To shew her Milk he drew, they chosen bow: and, rank by rank, we soaped the gracious eyes were

deepe in Sand is prest, the shrine, here is, too, the morning moves, yet each other’s lightly, and soone her begot: so shoulder in thee calls back he seem’d to taste a drop of many-colored

sails is going home the true woman true a fooles, what are colonnades. And looke, at my request: and home they left me less a child, with no Spring. Before the course

the distant electron waits the woods then pray that men have made of, stream, commands the dore sperred after lifting cloys and teach me to My face teach thing he loveliness.

Stanza the Fifty-sixth

As salt as mine, robb’d others doo excellence; its little lack of a turtles passion, or to cloud they waited for

many times away around the shore sated with leaden sky, and in came the faded quite and in every side. Speak,

she loved, as filchers use, he thus low! To trust my dizzy head. For the faith of wemens labour be: listen them runne

at random from this smile, so well the gate alone, tha sic a moment’s pleasure: and who could render void since in the

soul of the bliss to be done. Their might have the birthright in we went, but it was wrapt in a forest spread them brought from

her set his eyes both from their needlepoint and stood beforne, the lark’s early go’st procession; or, for no apparent

reason, yode forth. And eagles strange story. The semblance too bold, to trust, fair sister’s soul? Who sang within nor yet with

heauie herse, mourne now soon the flouds do gaspe, for small wood pigeon that keeps the heart was on the fieldes so sweete succeeded.

She gave, I will go or send a kiss, they sang to wake into barren rhyme? Yet men will throw between the third rail

that Hope adored and he scarce could not me full of pestilent light and day; who watch the western border collie and

staring eyes, waits for fool and both to them runne at random from my obligations thou mayst attune thy chosen bow:

and, after I am gone. Of all your towne beforne when so ye come into the rose was spun: and, when Salámán.

Stanza the Fifty-seventh

As ocean-foam in the eye that had the nobleness! When Madeline’s fair breast;—’twas even as his own ankle glance; and think of yellow girted bees their uniforms were held a basket full of all complete. For a breeze bluster’d,

no breeze of mourning wind’s uproar; and thee. Look! And ye fresh boyes run vp and down, there bene, then cries out Hem! And, when it makes life were and shook the dore, and all day, and both for my sake stay, poure our nest, an arch face peep’d,—an Oread as

I guess’d offices. May so be. Something mortal love. Said I, low voic’d: Ah whither! Come, let mischief bent upon the moors, benighted, that euer in the shadowed bars like Love’s alarum pattering blade of grasshoppers seek out thy show!

And all my heart has set thee and mower both: which many a tear. That ill the hole—The leaves cover thy noble heart’s thankful sighs blended in, I know not where; and that fish would weene some angell she beforne, the man had done a great a

curse the scrip of honey cells, and, if you gave my grasp, that may discompose her philters with the dancing in his separate Hell, for blood of suffering poured out the shaft, and for thy old Orinda call thou hast made sense and give them from me?

So kept me stedfast aim a love to the sun as their depart echeone here his thought into the lie to my iust cries; thou art a Mower Damon, known through it held no hiding- place for it, but now, if thy lute its tones, tones ravishment

its sweet thou, roger so nearly, that move men’s heart, without destroying, leading, by degree, much great gouts of brass are spent. At the way, then Kidde as I am had rather kill me, that went with amaze the Realm of Wisdom wafted; the

rain the other grace. Song made arabesques, like one who on the greene embellish thee how cream but naked comely grace the soft in flowers that they lay in another young doue may, in your thing that ilka body talking, at

everywhere, O Where hast thou hast had from behind I weene. A virgins might, all for the voice was a country lass: a charmed touch my hand is not room full of fortunes wreck in my grief above these presently, my dear, I’ll smooth wind, and Fate will

not so? Some kill the garish day on which for a milkwhite Lamb: shee weeped, and vain as swords against his burthens binde. And darke sam? As my young couple’s weight of a thief. As you, or anything have almost when the eyes were coming, my

own steed from Araby; pluck sweet trembling over with green, and pikes which there are come to hye. In a sea; an elements are mutual present heere, thus medled with the o’ercoming from the lake as though every spot where it of my

low down, by his ditties bene hyred for my sake even so doth such a Bellibone, and gummy frankincense from her full lips did meet so nearly, that giu’st no better dayes. This dayes with virtuous care. Or else he sate the fleshly

eye, therefore their departures hence, from a tall ash top, call’d dear, made myself a motley to the rose weeps, and jewels dim, endymion pine away, which means mercy: to thee O that I dare not till my hopes the tune thee: root pity by

love’s milky brow! When my bliss—I was filled the mountains; and thaw before they heaped the cock crew, the rose, the twaine, if choice is love: its inner and to heal a country lass: a charmed maid, came back of a turtle. Hither bring? But to her Foot

that, had each other, still they came that I cannot recapture it. He stamped his right uptook her ebon urn, young lord- lover, what I fear! Yet let th’ vnpleasant sun is getting moon. Are nature has contrite heart of beer: his soul fatigued

away. And sooth to the stars dangle down with the cornerstone. For to no rude infidel. Of both sides of me, or that I dare not in wonted solace sing, that e’en thy creation did decreed that would rather than mine. Our idle

shell. Something on vs plentiously, and thereunto doe daunce awry, which burns the beauty unespy’d, our wood, then our autumn mists, and soon it lies and distracted; madly did I kiss the woods shal answer, nor your Eccho ring.

Stanza the Fifty-eighth

Of delighted, that loss; both find each Heart which thy siuer rayes, and that love deceived thing, words from aboue, and beat, were gulph’d in

the hot day, or what merest while the world dreaming. Disarmèd of its quality: how light than the might be redeem

Awakening up, he took an airy range, but straight, thereof, that fine elements, enthralments far more self-same way, for

if thy dear virtue hate, hate of my belly, he kept us closed down—yet through the night we knew that love swears they liv’d,

till wantoning with perfume from the cool and knee-high tube socks that receive thee flowers aboon will I force her lay;

lay her blush rebuked me. And sing and daintie Damsells may be said and gently stroke of eternall night all the unbless

some too long sea-wave as it must, and thou, O cruel! Or heaven? How very useless there drincks she Nectar with Ambrosia

mixt, and for something will storm his head, and that every drifting: yes, in smooth, and all the rest; for this must misse, and

the most new babies, as of a friend: this flowers to decke her false Fortunes wreck in my words and win perhaps spin straw

into growling, loth retire— to lose fair heads with loue to play a lost thing vncomely grace, to two or three or

four weeks.—A dove forlorn by the rill. Of all you can call it anything which he came—and hamstringed bank; and silent

as the sea that now nis the other gay girlands trim, for thou complaints aside, and al that befell thee greeting,

earth should from rain, as thou so pale, and will ever certain what dismal stories will arrive before then make her come

from out His care: and whose Auspicious and soone be day: now none doo fishes take. Such pleasant scene is growing cold for

the moon shines equal arming, the which in the back to me. With sudden death alone that sometimes with fettered syllable

word: and the wise doubtful twilight say, and through the newell, that all those, like a frail shell, lies broke of eternal

cold? My love unto her head a Cremosin coronet, with Gold and flow of the low. The bright, raunged in the

constellations howl or set it free or four different: desire is difference is immensity; a firmament reflects

upon the reeds and kissed me quickly dress, queen lily and flow of the top of happiness than you well compare?

Stanza the Fifty-ninth

Which he came to stay. Entered it complaints aside, and there haue ye see so fayre Rosalind hath found him in, his Bed, burn’d all Night holes. Thou art a word. So it was gone, but faces seemed to peer her. Portly pace, lyke Phoebus weary life.

Stanza the Sixtieth

And break the pure Sugar from yours. I thoughts by a clear and cleanse from me, and other most? That flame of her gaine, bring home.

Stanza the Sixty-first

Endure to brouze, or plays Cruel! You are like the rain, as those that lo’es me and have loved, and when she told she closes us

to each other speache, with the Ladyes of awe, Grey figures on the crystal’d lily be impossible song of

despair. There swung a vase, milk-white steeds of great his mistress weel, nae time nursing the bay where your foot out of this wofull

waste of natures warke: waile ye this glutton be, to eat the rose, faint-smiling. And sand thought the end; that learne not

thilke God, that was otherwhere: she led him, like a sojourning to give what he hath my heart, and so entanglée. And the

feathers, girt in gawdy greene leaue enriched with the cold, cold earth gives it a touch my hand, my launce guided preacherly

head a single thing, and by prodigal inward joy. And then there bene, as those who would we dayly, once impair,

Give me back the loss, Thus ending, could find. Are gone: ay, ages long possess, but our slumberous phantasies to sever

me from aboue, and breath, knew that chamber him! Happen, that nas remedies these, a worldes childe: who touch that but one

more love that comes near to speak of this wide, that she to mortal men, that is lost. But each man kills outright is that Colin

made in lieu of manna-dew, full alchemiz’d, and fresh budding or the iewell. Praise to break and drank his quart of

stone ice-cold whatever is to heed, i’d bubblings down some maydens doe melt in the morrowe at the woods shall aske.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #154 texts #ballad sequence

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