#shepherd of hills trail of lights

[professor-azran]

@dmed-expedition

There, just off the main path is a smaller trail that leads to a clearing on top of a hill. The rain will not pool there, and because its at the top of the hill not on a side things won't roll and the surrounding trees will provide protection from winds. The way up to the clearing doesn't seem to be used often if the over growing grass and bushes are any sign, might have to push past a couple of brambles to get there, but no other visible hazards.

*The moment he spies it he turns to the group.*

“This way, up the hill. Hurry now.”

[ @shepherd-to-the-flock @bathe-in-dragons-light @splintered-faith @the-moist-samurai ]

[decay-1]

Hello! Can you write a scenario where James and female reader share and snuggle under a blanket on a chilly evening?

Yesss!! my first req :3 got too excited and Immediately started working on it help

WORDS: 1016

—————

In another universe, James never went to Silent Hill in search of his late wife, Mary Shepherd-Sunderland.

November 1st, 1993.

Winter was creeping in slowly but surely, the air thick with a biting chill. Outside, the sky was a heavy, brooding gray, and the wind carried a dampness that promised even colder nights ahead. Inside, (Name) Sunderland lay curled on the couch, trying to bury herself deeper into the blanket, but no matter how tightly she wrapped it around her body, the cold still lingered. It was the kind of cold that seemed to seep into your bones, making the warmth of the dimly-lit living room feel distant and hollow.

The TV flickered, its sounds fading into the background—just incoherent noise now. Her eyes traced the cracks in the ceiling absentmindedly, her breath steady but her heart aching with loneliness. Without James, the house felt too big, too empty. There was no gentle murmur of his voice, no soft press of his lips on her skin to chase away the chill. She sighed, her fingers idly twisting the edge of the blanket, wishing he’d come home soon.

Her gaze drifted to the window, and she noticed the first raindrop splash against the glass. A single bead of water that slowly streaked down, leaving a shimmering trail. More droplets followed, each one tapping lightly against the pane, until the rain began to fall in earnest, a steady patter that filled the silence with a rhythmic melody. She watched, mesmerized, as the rain softened the edges of the world outside, turning the streetlights into blurry halos of light.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door unlocking broke her trance. Her body stiffened, then relaxed as she recognized the hurried, familiar clatter of keys. The door swung open, and there he was—James. He stood in the doorway, soaked, his blond hair dripping with rainwater. His brow furrowed in frustration as he let out a groan, his coat sagging heavily from the downpour.

“Hey… I’m home,” he called out gently, in case she was asleep. His voice, warm and rich, was like a balm to her. She watched him take off his shoes, the soft shuffle of his feet against the wooden floor blending with the constant drumming of rain on the roof.

(Name) sat up, her blanket falling away as she turned to face him. A lazy smirk tugged at her lips. “James.”

Just hearing her voice was enough to make his tense shoulders relax. The exhaustion and irritation from the day seemed to evaporate as he looked at her, her face glowing faintly in the light from the TV. Her hair was messy, her cheeks a little puffed from sleep, but to him, she looked perfect—more beautiful than ever.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered, stepping forward. He leaned down and parted the stray strands of hair from her face, his rough fingers grazing her skin with the gentlest touch. His lips met her forehead in a tender kiss, and she closed her eyes, exhaling softly as warmth spread through her. His touch chased away the cold, igniting a slow burn that started from the point where his lips pressed and rippled through her entire body. Her heart fluttered, a sweet ache filling her chest.

She never grew tired of his warmth, how every touch made her feel like she was home. His thumb brushed against her cheek as he pulled back, though he lingered, his hand still cradling her face. She leaned into it, her own fingers curling around his wrist, savoring the way his skin felt against hers, rough yet so familiar. The November air had been biting at her skin, but with James here, none of that mattered anymore. His warmth was enough to chase away the chill that seemed to invade every corner of the room.

“I was waiting for you,” she said softly, her voice filled with affection. Her words hit him with a surge of gratitude, reminding him just how much he needed her, how lucky he was to have her. He smiled, a soft, almost boyish expression that made her heart skip a beat.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” James murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze still locked on her face as if memorizing every feature. The love in his eyes was overwhelming, and she nodded, standing as he reached out to help her, though she didn’t really need it.

Together, they moved through the house, the rain outside tapping rhythmically on the windows, adding to the soft quiet that enveloped them. James slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close as they walked. She chuckled at his neediness, but rested her hand against his back, feeling the solid, reassuring warmth of him.

In the bedroom, they slipped beneath the thick blankets, the fabric cool against their skin at first but quickly warming as they wrapped themselves around each other. James pressed his face into the crook of her neck, his breath warm and soft against her skin. His lips brushed lazily against her neck in featherlight kisses, his arms pulling her even closer, as if he feared she might slip away if he loosened his grip.

She sighed contentedly, her fingers combing through his damp, blond hair, the strands soft beneath her touch. Outside, the rain continued to fall, a steady murmur that made the room feel even cozier. Every lingering kiss, every caress, was like a wordless promise of love, of safety. It made her drowsy, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing second, until his warmth and the sound of his heartbeat lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

For James, her presence was everything. As he held her close, the chill of the outside world seemed so far away, unable to reach them here. She was his anchor, the warmth that kept him from drifting. With her, he felt safe—like nothing could hurt him. He pressed one last kiss to her neck, shifted even closer, and finally let sleep claim him, the rain outside still playing its quiet lullaby.

[lucid-romances]

The Family Ranch

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

The reader takes Spencer home to meet her family.

Word Count: 1k

Genre: Fluff

A/N: Remember when he told JJ he wanted to be a cowboy? I remember.

Spencer drives slowly, his hands gliding over the steering wheel of his Volvo Amazon, which had seen better days.  He rolls down the windows, and his unmanaged curls get caught in the summer breeze. They become a crown framing his face, kept from his eyes solely by the pair of sunglasses that shielded them.  The road had long since turned from smooth pavement to trails of gravel inlined with dirt.  (Y/N)'s childhood home hides behind valleys and hills, a small ranch tucked away from the rest of the world. 

They can see the pasture of cows before they see the house, and (Y/N) sits at attention, crooning at the many calves shepherded by their mothers and kept in line by a Great Pyrenees.  The dog turns to watch the car tumble down the road but doesn't dare to leave his post. 

The sun is high in the sky, it's a hot day for Virginia,  and (Y/N)'s already rolling up the cuffs of her jeans to prepare for time in the mud. Spencer watches her from the corner of his eye, pleasantly surprised to see her shuck off the professionalism she had to wear at the BAU. 

They pass by a mailbox, its white metal covered in years' worth of colorful handprints.  "Excited to be home?" He asks, not for the first time, in a tone sweeter than honey. 

The Volvo lurches to a stop, and the screen door of her parent's house opens before she can respond. The words are unnecessary because she's out of the car before he can count to three and scooping up an eight-year-old boy in her arms.  Spencer recognized him from pictures, with his freckled skin and outcrop of curly hair.  His flannel was two sizes too big for him, a lizard sat in the pocket of his overalls, and as (Y/N) would say, he was undeniably Daniel. 

"You've gotten so big!" (Y/N) says as Spencer retrieves their bags from the trunk.  He had his reservations about staying the night with her family.  Mostly, he worried they wouldn't like him, but if they were anything like the girl he'd started to consider a permanent life with, he knew he would come to love them just as much. 

"Maybe you've just gotten shorter, Auntie." Daniel teases, and Spencer notices he has (Y/N)'s smile. 

"You think? No, it's all you, kiddo, you're growing up on me!"  (Y/N) hugs the boy again, finally letting herself miss her family after living in Quantico for the past year.  "Do you remember Spencer? You spoke on the phone." 

Daniel's gaze sweeps over the older man as he approaches, squinting at the dress shirt and slacks he wore, unaware of how casually Spence happened to be dressed compared to usual.  "Everyone is excited to meet you." 

"Are they?" Spencer's heart soars. "I'm excited to meet you all too! Who is your friend?"  

Daniel pulls the lizard from his pocket and holds it aloft to Spencer, giving him a view of the spotted Bearded Dragon, rough to the touch. "His name is Dash." 

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dash.  Did you know that Bearded Dragons are one of the few lizards who will mimic other creatures?" Spencer tilts his head to stick out his tongue, and when Dash reciprocates, Daniel takes a surprised step back. 

"Woah! You have to come show my mom!"  

When Daniel takes off towards the house, (Y/N) loops her arm around Spencer's. "You're good at that." 

"What's that?" 

"Kids." 

Spencer shrugs, unwilling to admit that he finds children easier to talk to than most adults. "That's just because Dash vouched for me." 

"A pretty cool guy, that Dash."  (Y/N) plays along, leading Spencer inside as Daniel approaches a woman at the stove.  Her light hair contrasts (Y/N)'s, but they share the same eyes.  She watches with patience that only a mother could know as Daniel tries several times to get Dash to stick out his tongue.  When it finally works, the woman offers him a beaming smile before acknowledging the couple in the doorway. 

"The FBI has finally released my baby sister back to us humble cattle ranchers? Bestill my beating heart!"  The woman, who Spencer knew to be Amelia, crosses the room to pull her sister into a bone-crushing hug.  Spencer has to let (Y/N) go to allow this, but he isn't out of the woods yet.  Amelia appraises him, trailing her gaze from his head to his toes.  "He's cuter in person." 

"Amy!" 

"What? You don’t mind, do you, Spencer? I'm just repeating the things (Y/N)’s said about you." 

Spencer beams, his gaze flickering between the two siblings.  Their dynamic reminded him of how Derek continues to tease him daily. "Not at all. I hope everything she says about me is half as nice." 

"Like you wouldn't believe! 'His eyes are so dreamy. I love it when-'"  (Y/N) cuts off the embarrassing stories, most from when she first started working at the BAU and barely knew Spencer as an acquaintance.  She shoves Amelia back towards the stove, threatening to knock a pan of homemade chicken noodle soup from the burner.  "Hey, hey! Chasing serial killers has made you violent! MA!" 

Amelia raises her voice so she’s heard in the recesses of the house, and not a few moments later, an older woman comes skidding into the room.  She has the same friendly deposition as her daughters. Her skin’s notably wrinkled from years of hard labor, but there's a kindness in her eyes that Spencer can't ignore.  "What's all the fuss about? (Y/N)! When did you get here?" 

The mother and daughter close the distance between themselves.  Spencer can't help noticing how tightly (Y/N) clings to her parent as if proving all her sleepless nights- fearing that she would never see them again- wrong.  

"Hey, Ma," she finally says, after moments trickling into minutes.  "I brought a boy home." 

Everyone calls her Ma, even the people down the valley in the closest town, but Spencer knows her name is Beth.  Against his better judgment, he holds his hand out to her, expecting a polite handshake to break the ice, yet he's not surprised when he's pulled into a hug. "Doctor Reid!"  She greets him with an open welcomeness he isn’t used to. "We're so excited to have you finally join us. I hope you don't mind roughing it out here." 

"Spencer, please, and not at all!  Your home is lovely, and so is your family." 

"Well, that’s very kind of you! You've both made it in time for lunch. Why don't you get comfortable while I find your father?” Beth excuses herself before the couple can respond. 

Spencer finds himself at the dining room table, served a bowl of soup while having a riveting conversation with Daniel about the local reptile population.  He was more comfortable in (Y/N)'s childhood home than expected, and even as the rest of her family settled to join them for their meal, he couldn't help holding her hand beneath the table. 

[radicalredrasp]

Drabble

(an idea for Dark/Light early, job in the middle ages idk)

There's a little tiny town he passes by every morning, and before he leaves bringing the honey colored rays of light across the bramble and straw houses he likes doing things near the edge of the town where nobody goes that early in the morning.

Light glided across the lake of a little town in Chile, he dipped his fingers, and his hand through the water feeling the ice cold water against his fingers as he went past.

Across from the lake was a little house with warm yellow bricked walls and a brown and red roof made of clay tile. The house belonged to a sweet old man who like to start his day a bit late, so he was still asleep. 

It was a pretty house and if he was human he'd love to move into a house like that someday. again, he couldn’t since he was not human, and he had a duty to serve bringing morning to the Earth.

Behind the house there was a little hill where a shed lay, although it wasn't that dilapidated but it was old, and the structure was leaning to the side.

There was an old fence perched up against the side of the building hugging onto its already waning and weak support.

But what he was interested in was what was growing on the fence, vines of vines of strawberries. Somewhere still green and there were a few flowers waiting to bloom into red gold.

He knew it would be wrong, and stealing that of which belong to others, and what must’ve taken so much time to grow care for nurture.. cannot just be plucked by his own hand and shoved into his mouth for the temporary sweetness, but those strawberries just looked so ripe and they were covered and dew from the late hours of the night to the morning.

His hand reached for one, then two, then he had a whole handful of little and big red strawberries, resting in the palm of his hand.

He bit into a few rather messily, and they were sweet. he had picked them just at the right time, and they were quite ripe.

He heard a loud thud coming from the shed. However, that made him drop most of his strawberries.

two familiar blue eyes emerged from the shadows inside of the shed, the window was cracked and dusty and a black hand gently rested against the glass.

“Hi..”

The soft but gruff voice, muffled by the barrier, came from the other side.

It was dark.

Light wiped some seeds and red berry off of his lower lip and looked up at those blue eyes.

“Yeah.. uh hey man..”

He mumbled a little anybody would be embarrassed to be caught eating, stolen fruit, so messily like a child.

“Yeah hey dude..”

Dark cleared his throat.

“I um.. got stuck in the shed.. I over estimated my stay in the building.. and when I saw you over the horizon, there wasn’t enough time to.. uh..”

He smiled, awkwardly laughing.

“but there are so many cool tools in here. He won’t believe how different these were from a couple hundred years ago!”

he sounded so excited he could hear the smile in his voice, and then light felt a little bad.. it was so nice to hear dark happy. Usually he was feeling quite down. Humans were terrified for his arrival. They’d lock up their animals in Barns with heavy wooden locks.

Children would quiver in fear in their bed running to their parents room in the middle of the night if they heard anything out of the ordinary, shepherds who were not lucky enough to have a farm to stow away their livestock stayed out in the night, risking themselves to wolves or other nocturnal animals 

“yeah, I get that humans are innovative..”

He trailed off, looking away he couldn’t look dark in the eyes for too long, something about that smile..

“what super cool things do they gotten there?..”

“Super cool stuff! Shovels, I think a sickle, an axe.. and a hammer.”

“..”

“Wanna share some strawberries?..”



“Oh heck yeah man!”

Light heard to lock being pushed back before the window opened up a smidge, light past a strawberry through the crack he heard some munching and a little giggle.

“Thanks!”



[forestshadow-wolf]

Part 1 || Part 2

"In a week" by hozier because SOMEONE (*cough* @rainerestored *cough*) gives me constant brainrot

(3)

Okay idk how to explain this but this song feels like if they were a pair of small desert creatures, digging around in the sand for tiny desert bugs together. If you ask me what this means I could not answer you. I just feel it in my bones. They're like some night-time desert mice or something. When the stars are high in the sky they burrow their way out of a the sand and go sniffing around for whatever bugs or grubs or whatever they can find. And then as the morning comes around they go back to their little burrow and curl around eachother.

(4)

Soap and ghost retired, somwhere in the Scotland hills. Ghost picked up guitar lessons at some point, or maybe he already knew how from a "past life". They have a weekly firepit night, where the light a fire and have dinner next to the fire, then they roast marshmallows and make s'mores. And maybe ghost brings his guitar some nights. And maybe he starts up a quiet strumming. And maybe soap hums along. And maybe ghost joins in. And maybe they spend the whole night underneath the stars like this.

(5)

Also for some reason this song makes me think they get a farm at some point. Chickens obviously, maybe a pair of horses that they like to take on trail rides, a small heard of cows that are just the sweetest angels. They live in a small cabin, not too far from the nearest city or town, but far enough that they don't get much traffic or visitors. They have a working dog (a collie or an aussie shepherd) they also get a black barn cat that likes to hitch rides on their shoulders.

This song makes me think about Johnny working in their vegetable garden, and simon walk out onto the front porch, and at the sound of the door closing Johnny looks up. And he sees simon leaning on one of the porch pillars, smiling at him, holding a plate or whatever baked good he just made. And Johnny smiles at him and says, "hey, Love" and simon smiles wider and offers the plate out to him.

Also someone please look at this and tell me this isn't them because... 🥹🥹🥹

[mj-102009]

Mistakes of the Past ((Ex) Thor x Oc)

“She’s…here?” Steve asked, getting out of Tony’s car.

He nodded. “She bought this land four years ago.”

They walked along a gravel path until they reached a metal gate, it was long worn and just barely holding on. 

“Let me just-” Tony started, getting ready to blast the lock.

Steve cut him off by tearing through the chains and throwing it out of the way. “Come on.”

Tony blinked at him before jogging to catch up.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” Steve asked. “Seems pretty…empty.”

As they walked over the hill a green and lush field came into view. The two stopped and gasped at the pristine white house that resided at the end of the plain.

“I’m pretty confident.”

They made it to the smooth cement driveway, an ATV and side-by-side parked next to a side door, on the grass was a green truck with a few bumper stickers. 

“Soooooo,” Tony trailed off, staring at the dark oak door. “How are we doing this?”

“Just ring the doorbell?” Steve said like it was obvious.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Because I’m sure she gets tons of visitors out here, and I’m sure she won’t be overjoyed to see us. Have you ever been cursed by her? I have, I could only talk in rhymes for a week.”

“Well-”

They’re heads bolted up at the dog barking, a fully grown German Shepherd whipped around the corner and began to howl and bark at the two men.

“MILA SHUT UP!” A voice roared from inside the house.

The dog didn’t stop, instead getting closer. Footsteps from behind the door. “Mila is swear if there’s another squirrel I’m going to fiaya ra.”

Her voice was as accented as it was back then, Steve and Tony both looked at the door while watching the angry dog. The dog was quickly forgotten as the door whipped open and an angry pale face came out.

“Mila wha-”

Adele froze in her place staring at the two men. “Oh,” She dropped the door handle and stood straight. “Hi.”

She wore casual clothing far unlike her old attire, instead it was replaced by a dark blue hoodie with faded words of Stark Industries in bold letters along with a pair of light gray shorts. 

Mila continued to yap in the background, Adele looked at her sharply and snapped her hand. “Mila, get in here.”

The dog dropped her head and lumbered inside. 

After she stepped back and opened the door. “It’s hot as fuck outside, come in.”

The main room was wide open with shining oak lining the walls, there was a TV hanging up on the wall with leather couches and arm chairs, along the walls were numerous deer antlers and heads mounted. 

“Did you build this?” S asked.

She shrugged. “I’ve had time.”

Tony ran his hand along the wall, looking at the craftsmanship, while Jarvis surveyed the area. “Morgan would tear this place apart.”

“Morgan?” Adele said, returning behind the counter to a small pot of boiling water. 

Tony’s face seemed to light up. “Pepper and I’s daughter.”

She smiled warmly. “Congrates.”

“Thank-”

“Sir, a rapidly approaching figure behind you.”

Tony whipped around and looked around. “Wha-”

He was cut off with a grunt and a tiny fist hit his midsection. “GET AWAY FROM MY ATHLA!”

Adele threw her head back and laughed and Tony genuinely struggled against the little girl. “That’s enough Alix.”

The little girl with blonde hair and shining blue eyes stopped and blinked up at him before scampering off to her mother. “Did I do good?”

The little girl was around four, maybe five, she had her father’s eyes and sharp features but her hair and ears belonged to her mother.

Adele smiled and lifted her up. “Very well indeed,” She turned off the stove and turned to the two gaping men. “This is Tony and Steve.”

Her eyes narrowed, she turned to her mother and whispered quietly, Adele nodded and Alix turned to them with bright eyes. “You know my papa?”

The men melted, Steve met Adele’s eyes from behind her head. “I think so Kiddo.”

She wiggled around and her mother set her down to look at them. “Was he cool as momma?”

Tony wrinkled his nose at the thought of him now. “Not nearly,” He knelt down beside the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Alixandra,” She mumbled, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“I’ll be alright, Hun.”

“Dinner’s ready baby,” Adele said, putting a bit of noodles with white sauce on a bowl. “Floor or table?”

The little girl perked up. “Floor!”

“Careful,” She warned, handing the plate over.

Once she had bounded over and the beginning of Paw Patrol started. Tony looked at her. “Ady.”

“Want food?” She asked, reaching up for more plates. “No trouble, Alix won’t eat the leftovers so-”

“Does he know?” Steve interrupted quietly.

She got quiet and looked at the top of her daughter's head. Very softly and full of sorrow she whispered. “No.”

Tony covered his mouth with his hand and looked at her with wide eyes. “Oh God.”

She shut her own eyes and nodded. “I know.”

“How long?” 

“I found out a year after the blip,” She said, swiping a hand down her face. “Just before he went…you know. I got mad at all the drinking n’ shit, he told me if I hated it that much I could leave at free will,” she sighed. “I understood that he’d be in no place to raise a baby, so I ran here.”

They stared at her. “Have you talked to each other?”

“You didn’t hear the way he spoke to me,” She said sadly. “Like I was an ant under his boot, I couldn’t stand the sight of him.”

Tony snorted. “Neither could we when we found him.”

She barked a laugh. “That bad?”

 “We brought him to the compound,” Steve told her, grinning. “Drank for an hour, spent the last five days crying over his missing wife.”

“Tell the bastard I refuse to see him until he gets his act together,” She scoffed, the men became uncomfortable. “What?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Ady he thinks you died.”

Adele’s eyebrows raised. “He could not be farther from wrong.”

“And you don’t want to see him under any circumstance?” Steve asked fidgeting, Tony gave him a ‘wtf’ look.

She squinted at him. “Not if I can help it,” Her eyes turned panicked real quick. “He’s not here is he,” She looked at Alix who was giggling at the TV.

“No no no,” Tony said, waving his hand. “It’s just…we have a plan, you know, to bring everyone back.”

The elf turned quiet looking at her daughter and pursing her lips. “You need my help.”

“We need all the help we can get,” Steve corrected. “You know more than anyone about the Aether.”

She sneered and waved her hand, a floating hologram of the infinity stone in question appeared in front of them. “That vile thing was the undoing of my civilization, it’s a goddamn living vessel of evil,” Alix looked behind her in fright, Adele dropped her magic and waved at her daughter. 

Alix gave her a confused look and got ready to stand up, her mother shook her head and she plopped back down. As much as Adele would hate to admit it, she wanted her daughter to see the best of this universe and with the blip it wouldn’t happen.

Steve sighed. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you, especially with a kid but-”

She sighed and dropped her head into her hands. “Faja.”

Tony smirked at her swear. “Pepper can watch the kid.”

Adele sat up and glared at the two. “I hate you two.”

“Hey Pepper,” Adele said smiling at the red haired woman, she gasped and sobbed running to hug her.

“Adele! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my..”

The sat for a while and embraced each other, Tony with Alix and Steve with a few suitcases, awkwardly stood there. “Hey there woman I married!” Tony exclaimed prying her away from Adele. “Missed you too!”

Pepper glared at him. “Did you get milk while you were out?”

“Well..no.”

She brushed past him and looked at Steve, again her hand fluttered to her face and she gasped. “Is that-”

The little girl snored again, tucked against Steve’s neck drool falling on his shirt. Adele smiled fondly at her. “This is Alix.”

She took him from Steve and into her own arms, Pepper’s eyes filled with unshed tears and she looked at the toddler. “Is she Thor’s?”

Adele smiled thinly and nodded, Pepper’s look of pity was enough to make her think of less than pleasant memories. “Yes.”

“Mooooooooommmmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaa!!!!”

Tony went into the cabin and opened his arms. “Maguna!”

“Dadda,” She said. “Can I have a popsicle?”

He dropped his arms and turned to an amused Adele. “Does yours do this? I put you in your mother, show some respect.”

“Yes or no?” Morgan pressed, she finally looked behind her and her eyes lit up at the sight of Steve. “UNCLE STEVIE,” She bolted up and forgot about the popsicle, Steve set down the bags and scooped the kid into his arms. “What are you doing here?” Finally she set eyes on Adele who was wiping off Alix’s face. “Who this.”

Tony took her from Steve and walked over to Adele. “This is Legolas.”

Adele laughed softly. “Hello Mrs. Stark.”

Morgan watched her. “Who are you?”

“I just told you-”

Adele shushed Tony, getting a laugh out of the little girl. “My name is Adele.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Your voice is funny.”

Tony put her down. “She’s an alien, can you show her to the guest room?”

She skipped up the stairs and waited for Adele. “We don’t get visitors a lot, actually sometimes Happy comes. But he doesn’t count. Oh! And Momma’s friend Sarah comes with Josh, but he’s seven and doesn’t like playing with me. Is your daughter five like me? I want more friends, dadda had a lot of friends. In the avengers, were you in the avengers?” She continued to ramble until Alix was laid down and they were walking down stairs. “-You have pretty hair, I wish mine was like yours. My dad likes to braid my hair but I don’t like it.”

Tony smiles as they come into the living room. “Maguna.”

“Are you really an-” She looked at her dad. “What.”

“What?” he mocks. “Bedtime, go with Mom.”

She gasps and clutches Adele’s leg. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

Pepper shushes her quickly and picks her up. “C’mon stinky.”

The kid whines and cries all the way up, the three of them sigh and Adele slumps into an armchair. “Oh gods.”

Tony yawns and cracks his neck. “Alright no rest yet, game plan time.”

Sitting around a round table they look at a model of the time machine. “And you’re at 100 percent?”

Adele looked down at her hands. “It’s in my blood, Tony, I’ll be fine.”

“Just double checking.”

Steve pushed off the table. “Then it’s settled, we leave tomorrow.”

“I love you,” Adele said, looking intensely into her daughter’s eyes. “I’ll be gone for a few days, you’ll be here with Aunt Pepper and Morgan.”

She sniffled and rubbed the tears out of her eyes. “Where goin’?”

Her mother smiled sadly. “You remember the stories I told you of?”

Alix gasped and grabbed her mom’s cheeks. “Goin’ see papa? Tell him I love him”

Steve’s eyes turned down and Tony rubbed Adele’s back. The woman shakily kissed her daughter’s forehead and sighed. “I love you Aldalacka.”

“Love you too Athla.”

Adele kept her eyes outside, watching the trees roll by as she got farther from her child.

“She’ll be fine, momma bear,” Steve said looking at her in the rearview.

She chuckled and looked at him. “I know that, just nervous.”

They rolled up to the white building, her eyebrows shot to the car roof and she whistled. “You know I think I liked the tower more.”

Tony laughed. “Well you damn Asguardians kept breaking the roof.”

“Fair.”

They strode into the building, Tony and Steve in their usual attire, Adele wore a pair of black leggings and a dark green t-shirt. She had a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and her pale hair was braided loosely from the top of her scalp down to her waist. 

“Someone wanna explain the spaceship?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “Stark?”

Tony threw his hands up. “Blame the raccoon.”

“The…what?” She paused a few steps from the doors.

“You’ll see,” Steve said, holding the door.

She walked in hesitantly and followed Tony to an elevator. “How many people are here?”

Steve winced. “I’m not sure people is the right word.”

The elevator opened to a board room. 

“FUCK YOU I’M RIGHT!”

“SCREW YOU JACKASS ITS 14 AND YOU KNOW IT!”

Tony stomped in, Steve and Adele following behind. “WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?” He yelled.

Slowly she took in the sight before her, The Hulk and a raccoon were leaning over a table looking at a blueprint locked in a screaming match. In chairs, half asleep, was Rhodey and Natasha, Clint was standing beside a door on his phone like this was a regular occurrence, a blue chick was performing live operation to her wrist with a screwdriver, another average looking man was looking at everything in wonder.

She looked around the room slowly before looking at Steve with a quizzical expression, he shrugged, she frowned and crossed her arms.

“Tony,” The hulk sighed, Adele’s jaw dropped. “Finally someone competent.”

“Excuse-”

“Should the jump point be at 7.5 or 14.5?” He asked.

Tony glanced down at the papers. “7.5.”

The raccoon jumped up and clapped his hands with a whoop. “HAH.”

Hulk sighed and erased a note. “Okay then.”

Meanwhile Adele stood blubbering like a fish, Steve walked forward and dragged her with him. “Team, this is Adele, some of you may know her,” Nat, Clint, Rhodey, and Hulk all looked up at her. “Some of you may not,” The raccoon was looking at her ears with dollar signs in his eyes, the average looking man had an awestruck look on his face, the blue lady couldn’t care less. “She’s an elf as you may be able to tell and knows first hand information about the Aether.”

“How much for the ears?” The raccoon asked with a smirk.

She looked at him curiously. “How much to get you to shut up?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Adele?” Natasha said, walking up to her. “Jesus Chirst where have you been?”

She smiled sadly. “Long story.”

Hulk stood up and gave her a bear hug. “Ady!”

Adele squeaked and released a burst of energy from her palm to push him back. “Bruce?!?!?”

He rubbed his neck bashfully and nodded. “Long story.”

She swore in elvish and gave him up and down. “I can tell.”

Clint came up to her next. “Come to collect Gandum Style?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Who?”

His face turned surprised. “Thor? You know that god you married?”

“Oh shit,” She mumbled. “Forgot about that.”

Natasha gave her a worried look. “What happened these past years.”

She had opened her mouth to talk about Alix.

A broken whisper came from behind her. “Adele?”

She tensed and slowly turned, for a moment she could say a word, because holy fucking shit this guy needed a day at the gym. “What the fuck.”

His eyes filled with tears. “I-” He stopped and reached for her.

She flinched aggressively and smacked his hand away. “Gakape ke faja raefe kam io (Get the fuck away from me),” She spat. “I don’t want to catch whatever this is.”

If Adele had been in a calm state of mind maybe she wouldn’t be speaking like this. For a moment the heartbroken and longing look of this man's face cleared the clouds. Then she remembered how he treated her after she offered to help every time he was down.

Thor dropped his hand and looked down at his grubby clothes. “I’m not ill.”

“Look at yourself,” She snarled. “Disgusting,” Steve grabbed her forearm and pulled her back before it could get worse. Not before her last words, they jarred him straight to his core. “Io Aldalacka fra losana re reminre (My Alixandra loves you even if she doesn’t know you).”

As she walked away he whispered. “Who is Alixandra?”

Tony sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Jarvis remind me to throw away all of my beer.”

“Will do, sir.”

[mythrilpencil]

Petrichor (for prompt “Overgrown”)

Once again, for perhaps the fifth time this quarter, Acenath finds herself lost. After following her nose along a lovely trail of rumors and urban legends…she’s stranded.

At least it’s a nice planet this time, if a bit humid. SAIL claimed it’s a warm planet in the star’s Goldilocks Zone, and that the part of the world Acenath decided to beam to is in its dry season, but the moisture in the air is still more than a desert native like herself is used to. Not that she’s complaining—thicker, moist air makes it easier to smell things. Just makes her fur feel a bit damp.

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea after all to follow those admittedly shady Humans’ claim about a signal booster over the hill. But they had been incredibly eager to help her out after her warp got thrown off-course by some weird signals…if only after she handed over a compact of Pixels she was planning on using to barter for something later on. At gunpoint. Yeah…probably not the best idea. Acenath can practically hear the Grand Archivist nagging her over her lack of foresight again. 

No matter, though. Acenath shakes her head, itches the premonition of the Grand Archivist’s voice out of her long ears, and takes a good look and sniff around. It’s nighttime currently, but the local star clusters above and glittering puddles of healing water below more than make up for the planet’s lack of natural satellites. So with her own flashlight and her natural low-light vision, navigation isn’t much of a chore. 

The ecosystem she finds herself in as she crests the hill is lovely: rolling plains absolutely covered in flowers still displaying their vibrant colors, even in the starlight; spiraling vines reaching to the stars with their leaves; the odd tree here and there standing like shepherds over their flocks of thriving shrubbery. All the pollen and scents of grass almost makes her sneeze, while the aroma of the healing water reminds her of the oases of home and almost draws her into a nostalgic lull. But beneath the fragrances is the scent she’s been looking for: a musty whiff, the smell of old stone and petrichor from eons past. To most it might be an unpleasant smell, or perhaps just dusty and uninteresting. But to Acenath, it’s a perfume most alluring.

Her ears perk as she swells with excitement, but she adjusts her large glasses and focuses on the whiff before the thrill can make her lose composure too much. It’s incredibly faint from where she is, but…

There! She finds the direction the whiff is strongest: just upwind and beyond the next hill. Like a silken thread, Acenath follows it, taking extra care to not step on the fragile flowers nor disturb the sleeping hypnares in the process. It takes more time than she would like to crest this next hill, particularly as the overpowering scent of ripe sugarcane nearly throws her off her desired musty trail, but finally she crests it.

And just past the hill is a strange tower. It’s not entirely unusual to find towers or other buildings on planets like this: the climate is conducive to many dominant species’ survival in most places, so it’s not uncommon to find dirt, wood, or even stone dwellings erected by a dwindled endemic civilization or even the passing interstellar traveler. 

But this tower is distinctively none of those. Acenath can tell that even from this far away. The stone that forms its walls, despite being a climbing surface for ages’ worth of local ivy and grasses, still absorbs and reflects the glow of the surrounding pond of healing water strangely. The tower’s structure is too square. Its angles are too perfect. And the blocks of stone are impeccably uniform save for the occasional engraving.

It’s not the biggest of towers. It doesn’t even reach higher than the hill. But it still has an imposing presence bigger than itself, especially when Acenath climbs down the hill and circles the tower’s base. Rubbles of a relatively newer structure—a mound of sorts supported by a few crumbling stone pillar; a ritualistic construction, or perhaps a burial site—flank the tower’s side. Normally the newer structures in an archaeological site are more preserved than the older ones. Here it’s the opposite. The tower stands as if untouched by time while rubble collects around it and nature grows atop it.

But despite its perfection, the building is not symmetrical: the south end of the building has a lower overhang like a balcony open to the air while the north end’s overhang is higher overhead and is enclosed. Two obelisks stand guard in front of either entrance, radiating a light from their peaks as warm as the noonday sun. It’s a small comfort, but it reminds Acenath of her home desert and that reminder isn’t one she finds often. She finds herself smiling a thank-you and bowing to the obelisks before moving past them to inspect the interior.

Inside the tower, strips of cold blue light, partially obscured by the overgrowth, run up the walls, paralleling the angular windows and framework in the corners. Acenath hovers her hand over the end of the light strip, but does not touch. Not that she needs to: the strips radiate a scent of ethereal ozone as much as they radiate a cracking, yet harmless atmosphere that makes her fur tingle and her breath catch in her throat. It’s an aura of mysterious arcane magics that not even the greatest Thaumaturges the Arcanians have to offer have been able to harness. 

Plenty of civilizations favor blue-ish lights—her own people included—but this kind of blue light, powered by this energy, is one she’s only identified one other place: the Ark, framing those ancient stairs and tracing that ancient dais. That alone, not even including the mysterious yet iconic engravings or distinctive architecture, identifies the creators of this tower beyond question:

The Ancients.

The Grand Archivist and some of Acenath’s peers often questioned her nigh-exclusive fascination with the Ancients. These structures seemingly from beyond time—from beyond space perhaps, given the Ancients’ apparent mastery over dimensional manipulation—are so unknowable that even decades of study may never be enough to decipher their secrets. But Acenath’s an archaeologist: adding her years of curiosity and drive to her people’s gradual study of the Ancients is her dream. She’s already uncovered more secrets and identified more trends about the Ancients and their culture than any of her peers and predecessors have ever managed; imagine what discoveries can be built upon hers going forward!

And despite her misgivings, even the Grand Archivist would have to admit the value in what Acenath is discovering, surely. The slit in the roof northward, an air vent, perhaps? Even the Ancients needed good air to breathe. And the writing on the walls, although not any of the symbols Acenath has come to recognize, perhaps are claims to the Ancient’s history? Or marks left by the builders to identify themselves? It’s an incredibly common practice, she’s found, for the Ancients to leave uncountable engravings on their walls. Not the graffiti sort of mark, nor a tribal patterning like the Floran’s. 

Acenath makes sure to scan the unique markings and save them to her ever-growing database before moving on.

And these pots, tucked away in the corners. Oh, if only Acenath could take them home to her museum for study! But she is afraid to even touch them for fear of damaging these precious artifacts; even cupping her hands around the smallest is enough to make her bite her lip and wish she could will her heart to stop racing so much—she’s almost shaking the tiny pot. Taking them with her isn’t an option here. But the fact that the Ancients even had such pots, in a number of intricate styles that Acenath has been able to map like anyone else would map out styles by period, shows they had a thriving culture. A history. Needs and wants. Art.

Things worth preserving and studying.

And that’s not even considering the raw power the Ancients had access to. Even the Grand Archivist has to admit that studying the Ancients and their mastery over what their people deemed the arcane is vastly important. Any discovery Acenath makes in that sphere can have massive implications. It already has. Connecting the Ancients’ essence to the Astral essence suffusing the Arcanians’ home worlds…

Acenath shivers from the thrill at the thought.

Or…perhaps from the chill in the air.

A few droplets of water peck her head and make her ear twitch while she’s studying the triangular windows, thoroughly derailing her train of thought and making her blink at the sky.

The sun is rising, its light tinted a deep scarlet by the gathering clouds. What few rays of dawn manage to pierce the clouds, however briefly, disperse into streaks in the rain.

Looks like Acenath is stuck here until the rain passes.

Sure, she’s in her field outfit, complete with a Havencrest-peach jumper and faux-leather boots specifically treated to be hydrophobic and easy to clean. And the rain gifts the lush environment around her with the delightful scent of life and water…

But Acenath really doesn’t favor getting soaked at the moment.

So instead she sits under the northern overhang, just past the threshold, near the obelisk shining outwards. She’s in no hurry to get home right now. The more she studies the Ancients, the more they feel like home, anyways.

…Although she still has to figure out how to warp back to her ship. Ah, she’ll get to that later.

[mareastrorum]

WIP Wednesday: The Fool and the Soldier, Ch. 6 (Beach)

The Fool and the Soldier is now up on AO3, updated every other Friday. This is an off-week, so here is a snippet from next week’s chapter! Commentary on Chapter 5 will go up on Friday.

Fanfic Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf survived the Mighty Nein's encounter with the Iron Shepherds on Glory Run Road, but a short time later, a spirit began hunting him, claiming that he stole his body. This Campaign 2 AU begins with Episode 26 and continues on from there.

The afternoon sun burned warmly overhead. The salt in the air, the chill breeze, the cries of gulls—the sea was close by, likely visible in the next clearing. For the first time in months, Fjord felt truly giddy with excitement. He had never truly had a home, and this felt like a homecoming.

But there was a sour tinge to it all. He pulled the letter from his bag of holding—his personal trophy from the Iron Shepherds—to refresh his memory.

Many thanks to you Ionos, for dealing with the thieves who appropriated my possession. Reliability like this will prove profitable for you and your house should you continue to be. One half of our agreed payment is enclosed with the other being paid upon recovery of the Cloven Crystal. It is imperative that you find this bauble and return it to me. It has great sentimental value to me and my family. This rendering should suffice to guide the discerning eyes of your hunters. Time is of the essence. Should I not have it by the end of Quen’pillar, I shall be forced to end our agreement and seek a business relationship elsewhere. I warn you: we are fiercely loyal to those who appease us, and staunchly resentful to those who do not. When recovered, please deliver to Marius LePual at the Wayfarer's Cove. Tell him you have a gift for the Captain. Avantika

Two weeks too late for that. Fjord only hoped the lead had not run dry. Marius LePual probably wasn’t still waiting around, but maybe the Nein could track him down somehow. If he was a runner of some kind, he’d be known to the wharfmaster or other dock workers.

“That’s nice,” Caduceus said, pulling Fjord out of his thoughts. They had just crested the hill to see the shore and the walls of Nicodranas, a few of the piers visible just off to the side. The winter sun had lowered enough to create a trail of shimmering light across the choppy water. There was some rough terrain before the sandy beach, but it wasn’t too far off the road.

Fjord took a deep breath of the sea air and smiled. “Indeed. I missed this.”

“I don’t know what smell I expected, but this wasn’t it,” Molly commented from the side of the cart, sniffing periodically. “Salty, but kind of like… plants? Moss? But thicker.”

“Better the beach than a city shipyard for your first experience,” Fjord replied. An idea popped into his head, and he did his best not to shift his expression. “The smells of rotten wood and spoiled fish never leave the shippin’ docks, and that can color your opinion. Beach water doesn’t taste nearly as bad as port water either.”

“Good to know before we arrive,” Molly half-hummed as he looked over at the shore. Fjord pinched one of his fingers to help keep from breaking into a smile. Gods, he hoped that would work.

Before long, the Nein made their way to the beach, leaving the cart and horses just shy of the sand. Caduceus checked on the animals—Fjord wasn’t entirely sure if he could actually speak to them, but it kept them calm enough—while the others began pulling off their boots and outer garments.

Oddly enough, Caleb seemed mesmerized. As soon as they stopped, he walked off toward the water as he stripped his clothes and waded into the waves, stark naked, without a word. Then he disappeared under the surface.

“Be careful, Cay-cay!” Nott called worriedly after him. “Water’s dangerous!” As she said that, Caleb suddenly reappeared on the water, floating on his back. Nott whined slightly, gripping her cloak.

Fjord smiled. Maybe this would be a good chance to help the goblin with her fear of water. “See, Nott? Easy as pie.” She grimaced at him and began collecting the human’s clothes. Well, if Caleb going in the water wasn’t going to convince her to try it, Fjord wasn’t going to either.

“I’ll check on him!” Molly called out excitedly, already tossing the last of his clothes off as he rushed after Caleb. (Why was everyone going in naked?)

Fjord shook his head and walked after them after leaving his boots and gauntlets in the cart. Molly soon dove in, then almost immediately resurfaced and got to his feet, coughing. Fjord resisted the urge to laugh, settling for a shit-eating grin.

“That’s awful!” Molly griped, hair drooping over his eyes as he sputtered to get the taste out of his mouth.

“I didn’t say it’d taste good, just that it’s not nearly as bad!” Fjord called, unable to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.

Molly spat out the rest and flipped his hair over to clear his face. The tiefling gave a quick glare at Fjord before he shifted to a tight smile and nodded. “I’ll remember that, Fjord.”

“Sure, Molly.” Fjord nodded back and chuckled. He checked behind him to see that the rest of the Nein seemed to be enjoying their time. Beau had traversed one of the jetties to sit and… meditate? She looked oddly peaceful. Caduceus planted himself in the sand near the water to build something, the incoming tide slowly inching closer to his work. Jester had begun training her blink dog, Nugget. Nott was hiding behind a small rock, watching the overhead gulls closely as they began swooping down at some food on the beach.

No one else wanted to swim? Well, their loss.

Molly swam a short distance off, interested in something below the water. Caleb still buoyed in silence, now about two dozen feet out.

That mischievous itch cropped up again. Fjord summoned the falchion and used the enchantment to teleport next to the man, instantly startling Caleb, who began to flail in the water.

Fjord spoke up, “Whoa, hey! All right there, chief. Okay, all right, you’re good. Sorry.” He almost meant it.

“You can’t— just sneak up— on a person,” Caleb complained between hoarse inhales and coughs.

Fjord grinned. “Sorry, I just figured you want some company. It’s really tranquil, isn’t it?”

Caleb gave a knowing look and began treading the water. “Oh, it’s very quite nice.”

Just as Fjord was about to respond, he felt an appendage wrap around one ankle, far too long to be a hand. In that split second, it occurred to him that it could be a tentacle, but octopuses and squids didn’t grow that big. Before he could speak, something grabbed his other leg and dragged him into the water.

A moment of panic. His armor enchantment helped him to swim, but it didn’t grant him water breathing—he needed to break free and fast. He began a front crawl, surprised that he easily broke away from whatever it was. How had it dragged him below if it couldn’t hold on—

Once Fjord turned underwater, Molly smiled smugly at him as he waved both hands and his tail at the half-orc. That fucker.

Fjord surfaced and took a breath, smirking in Molly’s direction as he came up as well. “Alright, we’re even then.”

Molly blew a raspberry. “Hardly!”

Caleb muttered something in Zemnian to himself and sighed.

The next two hours pass by mostly in leisure, when Molly wasn’t up to some mischief. Caleb stayed out on the water, calmly floating, staring up at the sky. Beau had left the jetty and seemed to be trying to coax her owl to do something. Jester, her crimson weasel on her shoulders and puppy in her arms, took a break to check in on Caduceus, who had built… something. Almost resembling a hill, and that was being generous. But there were some shells decorating the top, and that was about what could be expected for a first time building with sand. Unfortunately, the incoming tide soon destroyed it anyway, so Jester went back to training Nugget and Caduceus waded contentedly in the shallows. Nott had managed to shoot a seagull or two, and the peacock (Afternoon Tea? Fjord had lost track of its latest name) had decided it was its duty to chase all the other gulls away. Molly wandered between the groups, paying no mind to his nudity for the most part, but eventually putting some pants and his tunic back on once the late afternoon breeze got too chilly. By then, Caleb had wandered back to the shore, put his clothes back on, and took a nap in the cart bed, a hint of red on his nose and cheeks.

It wasn’t a proper day at the beach if it didn’t end with sore muscles and a slight sunburn.

As the others began to wind down, Fjord walked the beach to look for anything that the others might find interesting. Caleb had mentioned his striped stone with a circle all around the center was lucky. There was some seaglass because of the proximity to the harbor, but they were mostly pieces too small to be worth collecting. Eventually, he spotted a smooth green stone with a snakeskin pattern in it, some parts of it matching his skin tone. It took a moment to remember the name: serpentinite, supposedly protective against poison, but that was just superstition. It was only a pretty ocean rock. Fjord flipped the stone over, inspecting it as his thoughts drifted off.

His name was Fjord Stone according to some records in Port Damali and a few harbormaster ledgers, but it wasn’t like that had bound him to it. There were times when he despised the name, when he took pride in it, when he felt nostalgic for it. Thirty years of indecision.

It was just a name. It was more than a name. It was only a word. It was the most important one he had. It belonged to an untold number of orphans. It was his and his alone.

Who am I?

“Hey, Fjord!” Molly yelled from a distance. “What’s this?”

Fjord looked up to see the tiefling had wandered off to something near the jetty Beau had since abandoned, Caduceus standing next to him and looking down. Another prank, maybe? It didn’t seem like Caduceus to join in on that. Fjord pocketed the stone and approached warily, but both men were too enamored with inspecting a collection of animals and plants caught in a tide pool, which was slowly resupplied with sea water as the waves gently moved in. His suspicion faded away.

“That’s a tide pool,” Fjord explained. “The water line shifts in and out twice each day, and sometimes there’s pools deep enough to hold water between the tides.” He pointed out a few residents he recognized: kelp, anemones, snails, mussels, sea urchins, sea stars, and abalones.

“That’s great,” Caduceus drawled, quite satisfied to merely observe. Molly almost reached for each one, but Fjord wasn’t going to let the tiefling get stung by half of the creatures in it. He wasn’t sure who he was, but he knew he wasn’t cruel.

Maybe, once Fjord had answers to what had happened on the Tide’s Breath, he’d sort out who he was supposed to be.

[yashvitours]

Kashmir’s Enchanting Summer: Enticing Visitors to Paradise

Kashmir isn’t just a lovely moniker; it’s a feeling. However, summer in Kashmir paints a different picture compared to other seasons. No longer do we see the snow-capped mountains, but instead, we’re greeted by beautiful grassy fields adorned with vibrant flowers. The fresh, cold breezes carry the scent of pine trees, and gentle waterfalls cascade down. To experience a summer like no other, visit Kashmir with our travel packages from Ahmedabad. As the best travel agency in Ahmedabad, we ensure your journey is as magical as the destination itself, offering the best Kashmir Tour Packages from Ahmedabad.

Where Paradise Unfolds: Must-Visit Destinations

Kashmir has a good deal of interesting places, and each of them has a special attraction. Check out some of the must-visit places for spending summer in all its glory.

Srinagar: The Jewel in the Crown

Start your adventure in the summer capital of Srinagar. Drive through the calm waters of Dal Lake on a shikara, which is a typical boat in Kashmir. Admire the Mughal design of Shalimar Bagh which is an elaborately terraced garden paradise. Please make sure to enjoy Kashmiri wazwan, which is a multicourse cuisine.

Gulmarg: Meadow of Flowers

Head up to Gulmarg, a hill station covered in a vibrant tapestry of wild flowers during summer time. You can choose to take a scenic gondola ride, ride horses through the meadows or play golf at the highest green course in Asia. Breathe in the clean mountain air and embrace the stunning view of snow covered peaks.

Pahalgam: Valley of Shepherds

Located among moving hills and gushing rivers, Pahalgam is a paradise for those who cannot live without nature. Trekking along the Betaab Valley, which is very well-known for its beautiful landscapes, or going on a hike to the Kolahoi Glacier that tourists cannot help admiring will be the best options for you. You can try white-water rafting on the Lidder River if you are an adventurous person, but if you are not, it is enough just to sit near the Aru Valley waterfalls which are continuously falling.

Sonmarg: Meadow of Gold

Sonmarg is named after the meadows that are golden from the sunlight which shines on them during summertime, making it a haven for lovers of nature. Go for pony riding through the awe-inspiring sceneries or take a ride to Thajiwas Glacier and appreciate its beauty that is a wonder of nature. Have a sip of hot steaming kahwa at the backdrop of the incredibly beautiful landscape.

Yusmarg: Meadow of Jesus

Yusmarg is often referred to as the Switzerland of Kashmir which is peaceful. There is a breathtaking view formed by lush green meadows blanketed with wild flowers. Engage in term search in Nilgai Game Park, take a nature walk or simply enjoy the peace around Nilam Lake.

Beyond the Tourist Trail: Unveiling Hidden Gems

Kashmir is full of hidden treasures that people look for. Instead of looking at common tourist destinations, let’s look at the other side:

Doodhpathri: Valley of Milk

A secret place famous for its mesmerizing lawns that have many different plants and glide waterfalls. Feast on some nice lunch under trees outside the home.

Aru Valley: Valley of Lights

Amidst towering mountains of Aru Valley, which are full of stupendous sights, one can take a walk with a backpack or sleep on the ground under the sky at night. Otherwise, one can take a leisurely boat ride on Aru Lake.

Dachigam National Park:

Begin an animal viewing journey within the national park where there are rare species like Kashmir deer and a very difficult to find Himalayan black bear.

Activities Galore: A Summer Adventure Awaits

Summer in Kashmir is more than just sightseeing, read through the following to make your trip memorable:

Trekking

Walk through the breath-taking Himalayas, amazed. The famous treks are Tarsar Marsar trek and Kolahoi glacier trek, they provide a breath-taking view and are a challenge for adventure lovers.

Angling

The trout infested pools, streams and rivers are where you should throw your hook.

Camping Have a working knowledge of the wild while living in a tent under the guardian spirits of the starry.

Golfing:

Surround yourself with towering mountains, tee off the course famous worldwide in Gulmarg.

Cultural Delights: A Feast for the Senses

The festivals, music, Indian films,in the end, are the visible components of Kashmir’s rich culture. Experience them all:

Kashmir Arts & Crafts: Unpick the lively carpet weaving, papier-mâché work, and wood carving traditions.

Sufi Music: Listen to tunes of Sufi music, distinct mix of mystics and devotion.

Conclusion: Unforgettable Memories Await

Embark on an unforgettable journey this summer with our domestic tour packages from ahmedabad. Yashvi Tours and Travels as a best travel agency in ahmedabad, we promise to curate experiences that transcend expectations. Explore the enchanting landscapes of Kashmir, immerse yourself in its vibrant culture, and indulge in thrilling activities. Let us handle all your travel needs, from air ticket booking agents in gandhinagar to crafting the perfect itinerary. Your adventure awaits!

[heavenridersindia]

Embarking on the Spiritual Sojourn: The Unparalleled Significance of Manimahesh Yatra

Nestled amidst the enchanting landscapes of the Budhil Valley, the Manimahesh Lake stands as a sacred haven, beckoning pilgrims on the auspicious eighth day of the light half of the moon in the month of Bhadon. This divine pilgrimage, known as the Manimahesh Yatra, unfolds in the pristine Chamba District of Himachal Pradesh, drawing devotees from far and wide. As pilgrims make their way to this celestial abode, the journey becomes not only a physical traverse but a soul-stirring odyssey.

The Mystique of Manimahesh Lake:

Situated at a breathtaking altitude of 13,000 feet, the Manimahesh Lake cradles at the base of the majestic Kailash peak, standing tall at 18,564 feet. This celestial water body resonates with spiritual energy, and on the hallowed day, pilgrims gather to partake in a sacred fair, immersing themselves in the purifying waters of the lake. Lord Shiva, the presiding deity of this divine sojourn, is believed to manifest in a rock formation resembling a Shivling on the Kailash peak.

Legends and Sacred Beliefs:

The legends surrounding Manimahesh add layers of mystique to this sacred journey. Mount Kailash, deemed invincible, holds the allure of Lord Shiva’s divine presence. Stories echo of a shepherd turned to stone, along with his flock, when attempting to scale the unconquerable peak. Another tale tells of a snake transformed into stone after a failed ascent. The visibility of the Kailash peak is considered a blessing, and cloud-covered summits symbolize the Lord’s displeasure.

Rituals and Ceremonies:

The Manimahesh Yatra is not merely a physical trek; it is a spiritual odyssey infused with rituals and ceremonies. Pilgrims commence the journey with the procession of the “Holy Chhari,” wherein sacred sticks are carried on shoulders amid hymns in praise of Lord Shiva. The trek encompasses stops at Gauri Kund and Shiva Krotri, where women and men, respectively, take holy dips before reaching the revered Manimahesh Lake.

The Spiritual Significance:

Undertaking the Manimahesh Yatra is believed to purify the soul and body. The journey, though challenging, unfolds amidst the serene beauty of the lake nestled against the snow-covered Kailas Mountains. The spiritual aura envelops pilgrims during the “holy Chhari” procession, resonating with divine energy as they traverse the sacred route.

Routes to Divine Tranquility:

Pilgrims embark on the Yatra through various routes, each offering a unique experience. The Bharmaur-Hadsar route, starting at Bharmaur village, and the Parikrama route via Kugti Village, known for its challenging yet picturesque trails, provide diverse perspectives of the pristine landscapes. For those seeking a quicker path, a helicopter ride from Bharmour village to Gauri Kund is an option during the Yatra.

In the realm of divine pilgrimages, the Manimahesh Yatra emerges as an extraordinary odyssey, weaving through the heart of the Budhil Valley in Himachal Pradesh. As pilgrims from diverse corners of the world converge on this sacred sojourn, the question arises: What makes the Manimahesh Yatra the epitome of spiritual exploration and a journey like no other?

Sacred Abode of Lord Shiva:

At the core of the Manimahesh Yatra lies the pristine Manimahesh Lake, cradled at an awe-inspiring altitude of 13,000 feet. This celestial water body, framed by the majestic Kailash peak towering at 18,564 feet, is believed to be the abode of Lord Shiva. The journey, therefore, unfolds not merely as a physical trek but as a soul-stirring quest to connect with the divine.

Mystical Legends and Spiritual Energy:

The Yatra is steeped in legends that add a layer of mystique to the pilgrimage. Mount Kailash, standing invincible, holds the allure of Lord Shiva’s divine presence. Tales of a shepherd turned to stone and a snake transformed into stone after failed attempts to scale the unconquerable peak echo through the hills. The spiritual energy that envelops the region heightens the pilgrimage’s significance, creating an atmosphere of reverence and awe.

Rituals and Ceremonies:

The Manimahesh Yatra is not a mere trek; it is a spiritual journey punctuated by rituals and ceremonies. The procession of the “Holy Chhari,” where sacred sticks are carried amid hymns in praise of Lord Shiva, marks the commencement of the Yatra. Pilgrims partake in sacred dips at Gauri Kund and Shiva Krotri, adding layers of purity to their spiritual endeavor. The rituals performed throughout the night at the Manimahesh Lake deepen the spiritual connect, creating an atmosphere of devotion and transcendence.

Spiritual Purification:

Undertaking the Manimahesh Yatra is believed to purify not only the body but also the soul. The challenging trek, set against the backdrop of the snow-covered Kailas Mountains, becomes a transformative experience. Pilgrims find solace and spiritual rejuvenation amid the serene beauty of the lake, making it more than a physical journey—it becomes a pilgrimage of the heart and spirit.

Diverse Routes for Varied Experiences:

The Yatra offers multiple routes, each presenting a unique perspective of the surrounding landscapes. The Bharmaur-Hadsar route, starting at Bharmaur village, showcases the cultural richness of the region. The Parikrama route via Kugti Village, with its challenging trails, unfolds panoramic vistas and an immersive experience in nature. For those seeking a quicker yet thrilling option, the helicopter ride from Bharmour village to Gauri Kund provides an aerial view of the picturesque terrain.

Cultural and Natural Splendor:

Beyond its spiritual significance, the Manimahesh Yatra introduces pilgrims to the rich cultural tapestry of Himachal Pradesh. The journey from Bharmaur to Hadsar unfolds the cultural heritage of the region, while the trek through picturesque villages and lush green valleys becomes a cultural immersion. The Yatra seamlessly blends spiritual exploration with the exploration of the region’s natural beauty.

Unparalleled Tranquility amid Nature:

What sets the Manimahesh Yatra apart is the unparalleled tranquility it offers amid the lap of nature. The Manimahesh Lake, surrounded by the grandeur of the Kailas Mountains, becomes a sanctum of peace and spiritual serenity. The journey becomes a harmonious blend of the spiritual and the natural, allowing pilgrims to seek solace and introspection.

Conclusion:

The Manimahesh Yatra transcends the realm of a traditional pilgrimage; it is a transformative journey of the body, mind, and soul. The allure of the Manimahesh Lake, surrounded by the grandeur of the Kailas Mountains, invites seekers of spiritual tranquility. As the Yatra unfolds each year, it reaffirms the spiritual connection of devotees with the divine, making it a revered pilgrimage that echoes with the celestial energy of Lord Shiva.

For those seeking the harmony of spiritual serenity amid natural splendor, the Manimahesh Yatra stands as an unparalleled odyssey, beckoning the devout and the curious alike to experience the divine embrace of the sacred lake in the heart of Himachal Pradesh.

Source: https://www.heavenridersindia.com/embarking-on-the-spiritual-sojourn-the-unparalleled-significance-of-manimahesh-yatra/

[pedallingthepyrrhicpindus]

DAY 5 - TSEPOLOVO TO VIKOS GORGE AND THEN ELATI

Trails Leaving the haunted Scottish girls school we follow the side of the valley. At the top of a small hill, Alex points across the ravine to a zig-zag wall going up the steep side of the slope. He says it’s the sort of trail that covered the whole country. Hardy mountain folk would use them to travel between villages and to trade.

These trails are one of his passions. He spends much of his time maintaining those that still exist. (2% of what used to be.) In the old days people would walk with a knife in their hand and cut off any overhang - “trees have memories, they can sense the passing of people and animals and they grow away from the path.”

Then the fascists came and built roads across the whole country. “Many of them useless, but good for us!” And off we go downhill, just the right gradient, no need to use our worryingly worn brakes.

Gorgeous climb. The sun is out. At the bottom of a valley we turn to follow the river. Stop for an impressive arched stone bridge. There are other people. Tourists! In coaches! But not enough to bother us.

The big climb approaches. John senses his opportunity. And pushes for the summit coached by Toren. The landscape is different. Heavily stratified rock cliffs and columns - some either side of the road look like monumental gates.

The verges are strewn with brightly coloured spring flowers. Daisies, forget me nots, vibrant pink little flowers with five petals stretched to the fingertips, thistles with their pink furballs.  And the broom, yellow and fragrant.

A flock of sheep and goats, with shepherd - not sure which smells more. The little dog started it. Got the big one angry and it was he that bit my back tyre. The police turned up in a car and intervened using a special clicking siren.

And I was back to climbing in pastoral bliss. Keeping heart rate below 140bpm. Don’t look back.

At the top we change shoes and walk the pretty path  to the viewing point for the Vikos Gorge, the deepest gorge - relative to its width - in the world. Forget the Guinness Book of records - it’s quite a show, made all the more exciting by the lack of guardrail. Vertigo!

Back down the hill we race. Coffee and lunch. Less meat more vegetables was the order of the day.

Rain We leave the roadside taverna as another coach pulls up. And it starts to rain. Then rain heavily. We all stop to put coats on. Twenty minutes later it stops.

Climb frenzy Suddenly it goes all lord of the flies. Mark starts beating the drum for a race between me and Hamish up the next big hill. It’s all a bit cruel. “My money’s on Piers but I’m coaching Hamish”. The chatter and jabber intensifies as the hill approaches.  War cries echo across the valleys. “Hamish, Hamish…”

We start together. Matching each other’s pace. It’s going to be a long climb. The road flattens out a bit, Hamish shoots off ahead and gets a lead from his superior cornering skills. As the climb resumes, I wind him back in. “Don’t worry Hamish, I know Piers, he always goes out too hard and blows up,” Mark needles.

I pull ahead, Mark pushes past to encourage me to ’blow up’.  But I’ve been watching Mark all holiday. He’s a really impressive climber, with a super light bike and bucket loads of confidence. But… when the climb really starts to bite, when it starts to hurt me, it’s hurting him more. 

And it’s he who cracks. With still 100m to climb I pull past him and he’s left behind. Broken.

He won’t admit it, but the race was always between me and him. He’d used Hamish as a straw man. And now a shield for his pride.

Actually that’s a bit harsh. It’s all been about that special connection that comes from competion. The sheer unalloyed joy of pitting yourself against another human. The shared experience. It really is all about the taking part. Mark loves it. And we love him for it.

Of course, Toren has watched all this and is calmly up ahead enjoying the view, first to summit, as always. A racehorse travelling with donkeys. History lesson A few more km and we arrive at our hotel run by two lovely sisters. Big rooms. Lovely food. And Yannis gives the most extraordinary history of Greece - he spoke for two hours without notes starting with the first settlers and ending in the current day. Answering questions along the way.

It was striking how modern day Greece was created on the basis of an idea - about Ancient Greece, about the birthplace of civilisation. And how that idea was imposed from outside.

Ants in my bed though. 92.86km  1,837m ascent

[dman48638-blog]

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[volantium]

when the light is sweet & heavy 

a small halloween fic for @sheps-shepherd ily 🎃🧡 | read it here on ao3

The season turns into October, when the light is sweet and heavy. Orange leaves are carried to their final resting along the breeze. It is the month for resurrection, to cast off the year as it approaches winter, to begin anew without consequence. Without fail, Harley finds himself dreading the possibility of it all over again.

Harley’s never really been one for Halloween.

Mainly, cause, well, his father walked out on them close enough to the day that Harley always thought it was some elaborate trick or treat thing, a horror movie with a happy ending where he would come back with the world’s fill of candy with him just to see his kids smile. But he never came back, and Harley took Abby down to the square cause Ma worked thirteen, fourteen hours to make ends meet in the aftermath.

They were young, that first year, and each year since has been an exercise in not thinking too hard about where his dad is now. If he has other kids he’s taking out trick or treating, while Harley’s left to trail along behind Abby in her homemade fairy costume, the only one looking after his kid sister in a town where Halloween is a family affair.

Rose Hill is small. Small enough that all the neighbours know about the Keener kids, small enough to whisper behind their hands whenever they spy Harley and Abby, for reasons even Harley doesn’t understand anymore.

He thought it would’ve got old by now.

At least school calmed down. Probably helped that Harley has anger issues and a protective streak a mile long and been in detention more times than he can count. Harley’s calmed down a little, too, after Tony Stark crash landed into his life and decided he’d pay for this random kid’s therapy.

Abby’s on the edge of fourteen now, young enough to still want to dress up and go out but old enough to insist she can absolutely go by herself. And when little Miss Annabelle Keener wants something, by God is she going to get it. Normally. This year, Peter makes all the difference. She absolutely cannot wait to drag Peter around the town, and Harley tries not to let his guilt show.

Harley’s still not really sure how they swung it. Peter should be in New York at some party and Harley should be alone to trail behind Abby as she goes door to door. Instead, they’re here, together in Rose Hill—a rarity in itself that Harley’s stopped looking the proverbial gift horse in the mouth. Peter’s only been here for a day and a half, and yet his presence is enough to soothe something in Harley’s soul. But it is Halloween, and Harley’s never been able to fully shake the shroud that falls around him each and every October.

Harley begs Peter’s forgiveness, one night, when they’re curled up together in Harley’s single bed. It’s far, far too small for the both of them. Harley’s pushing six foot two and Peter’s got too many pointy elbows and knees for them to be truly comfortable. But they make do, with Harley plastered against the wall and Peter tucked into his side, playing with Harley’s fingers in the cool fall night.

It’s not overly late. The sky is still a hazy, faded blue twilight out the window. Dinner is cooking, slowly in the oven. Harley wishes he could spend his whole life in this moment. He’s so rarely content in this house anymore.

Harley doesn’t know what makes him say it. Maybe it’s the way he’s noticed Peter watching him, when he thinks Harley isn’t aware, or it’s the way there’s only Halloween decorations around where Abby is most throughout the house. Maybe it’s just Peter and the fact that Harley’s never been so singularly understood by another human being before.

“I’m not—I’m not dressing up for Halloween,” he says, voice catching over the admission.

Peter’s fingers still, twined gently with Harley’s. Peter blinks up at him, brown eyes warm as caramel. Harley knows he’s ruining the moment. Can feel the slowly built peace of the evening crumble around him like sand. Peter is so excited for Halloween, bouncing-off-the-walls-only-beaten-by-Abby kind of excited. But something sits just below Harley’s breastbone, pushed tight into the very curve of him that’s ready to snap.

“You wanna tell me why?”

Harley shrugs, as much as one can when laying sideways. “You know the shape of it,” he says, because Harley’s made too many self-deprecating jokes about his absent father that Peter doesn’t not know the general story. “Dad left around this time of year. It’s always been... Difficult, I guess.”

Peter hums in the back of his throat, a sound that Harley’s come to recognise as Peter’s way of just letting him talk, of letting Harley feel out his own thoughts aloud. He tells Peter the immediate reaction–his mom’s, Abby’s, his. That first Halloween, when Harley sat by the door all day waiting for his dad to appear. That night, taking Abby out, because she was too young to know any better, walking behind her with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, waiting patiently at the end of every driveway. Even as young as she was, Abby shared her precious haul with her brother, has done so each year, and it’s one of the few things that makes Harley smile in October. Runs roughshod over everything since that first Halloween, the way Ma disappeared for a while, the way the town seemed to make a mystery out of the Keeners, or what was left of them. How it’s all tangled up in the knot in his chest and in the parts of him that make him Harley, and how he doesn’t think he’ll even get dressed up for Halloween ever again.

He sighs, heavily, at the end of it, the story told.

“It’s just not something I do,” Harley finishes, lamely, suddenly self-conscious.  

Peter doesn’t say anything for several minutes, which doesn’t help Harley’s growing anxiety. Harley opens his mouth, probably to make a fool out of himself, but before he can speak Peter’s hand is untangled from his and is cupping his cheek, Peter’s fingers sliding into the wheat-blonde hair around Harley’s ear.

Peter kisses him, then, soft and gentle, easily, like he doesn’t even realise that Harley’s world stops revolving every time. Harley sighs into it, draws the moment out, curls his own hand into the fabric of Peter’s collar, just to hold him there.

When they pull apart, Harley taps his forefinger against Peter’s collarbone, an absent-minded tick, settled by the warmth of his boyfriend’s skin.

“Darlin’?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t ruined your Halloween, have I? I’m sorry.”

“Of course not,” Peter replies, instantly, much to Harley’s relief. “The fact we get to spend Halloween together means the world to me. The how doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to apologise for, baby.”

“Okay,” Harley’s voice is unsteady even to his own ears, as if he can’t quite believe his luck.

“Hey,” Peter says, just as low, just as carefully. “I’m so proud of you. And it’s okay that you’re not going to wear a costume.”

Harley presses his own kiss to the centre of Peter’s forward. “Thanks, darlin’,”

“I guess that ruins MJ’s idea of us going as the Scooby gang, though,” Peter muses, eyes flickering over Harley’s face. “You’d make a good Daphne.”

“Oh, shut up,” Harley says without any heat, smiling.

They lay there in comfortable silence, until they eventually have to get up and finish making dinner. They’re halfway down the stairs when Peter breaks the quiet.

“Well, you know what, I’m still wearing my suit,” Peter declares. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Which leads them to now, a day later; Peter, pulling on his old pyjama-looking Spider-Man suit. It looks like it hasn’t seen the light of day in several years, which probably makes it look more like a costume than anything practical or used by a superhero, which is rather the point.

“Tony will have your ass if he finds out you’re wearing that,” Harley points out.

“You better not tell him, then, Keener,” he shoots back. “Besides, there’s going to be a million other kids dressed up as me, it won’t even matter.”

Harley huffs a laugh, more at the fact that Peter thinks there’ll be a million other kids in Rose Hill (population approximately one thousand, four hundred and seventy-three) than that there’ll be kids dressed up as Spider-Man. Harley’s sure they’ll see some. Maybe like one, or two.

Harley rolls his eyes, voice skeptical. “Right.”

Harley shoves on a beanie and his tattered denim jacket, and follows Peter out to the porch steps, where they find Abby patiently waiting, pillowcase in hand.  

She’s dressed up as a zombie pirate this year, in a fashionable array of paraphernalia that Harley has no idea where she got from. Probably the school drama department.

“Finally!” She exclaims at the sight of them, jumping up. “We’re losing daylight people, let’s go, we need to get to the Johnson’s before all the good stuff is gone.”

“Who are the Johnson’s?” Peter asks.

“They’re—” Harley begins, only to be cut off by Abby.

“Walk and talk, come on!”

“Oh my God, okay,” Harley says instead, grabbing his keys and herding his sister out the gate, Peter bringing up the rear. “The Johnson’s are Rose Hill’s premier Halloween connoisseurs,” he throws over his shoulder, putting on a stuffy accent.

“And they have the best candy,” Abby chimes in.

“And they have the best candy,” Harley confirms.

It’s not a long walk, about twenty minutes until they start hitting the houses all bunched together near the town centre. Abby points her plastic sword in the vague direction of the Johnson’s, and sets out with a very determined bounce to her step.

Harley falls back to watch Abby point out each house they pass to Peter, the ones they’re all going to visit on the way back home. The old man who only has gumballs each and every year. The couple who pretends they aren’t home but have always sent Abby on her way with chocolate when she knocks. The street is teaming, vampires and witches and one Frankenstein running back and forth between the houses.

The Johnson’s place sits right on the corner, prime real estate, and also the busiest house by far. Their front yard is full of skeletons and tombstones, a witches brew full of candy by the front door. The miracle of the Johnson’s place is that it’s a free for all—the Johnson’s themselves are probably elsewhere with their brood.

“Wow,” Peter says, taking in the house, the fake cobwebs that cover the roof, the red lights in the weeping tree that make it look covered in blood, the giant carved pumpkins that frame the doorway.

“Yeah,” Harley replies. “It’s like this every year.”

Abby takes off, nearly diving headfirst into the giant cauldron of candy to get at the best bits. The Johnsons always have Warheads, which is what Abby’s truly after.

Peter watches her go. “She really likes Halloween, huh?”

“She really likes the sugar rush.”

Peter snorts, and then wades in after her. Harley watches as Peter’s marginally longer arms are utilised to their full effect as Abby makes him reach down to the very bottom, hand emerging with at least ten packets of Warheads.

Harley waits at the end of the driveway, like always, hands in his pockets. It’s not that he hates Halloween itself. He used to love it, too, before everything. But now it’s just an unnecessary reminder of all the other happy families in this God forsaken backwater.

Peter returns to his side, passing a Snickers bar to him. “They really do have good candy.”

Harley agrees, unwrapping it to take a bite.

“Where’s Abby?” He asks around the mouthful of chocolate.

“I think she ran into her friends,” Peter says, and points over to where their zombie pirate girl is, standing with a clown with a knife through her head and a fairy princess.

Harley nods, about to tell Peter which is who when a voice behind them calls, "Harley!" and turns to see PTA mom Miriam Johnson in the flesh.

Before Harley can say anything, Peter slaps a hand across his chest. Harley looks down at said hand, then to Peter, down again, back to Peter.

“Babe, what—”

Peter shushes him. “Look.”

Besides Miriam is her son, Zac, dressed up as Spider-Man.

There’s a beat of silence, where Harley watches his boyfriend go wide-eyed. For all of Peter’s confidence about the suit earlier, Harley knows there’s a part of him that is worried. Worried that wearing the suit would make him stand out, so far from New York. Halloween is about being somebody else, and here’s Peter, with his secret identity on display, without even the mask to hide behind.

Harley knows Peter still melts at the sight of little kids looking up to Spider-Man, too. One day he’s going to convince Peter to see himself the way the rest of the world does, the way Harley does.

“I know, Pete,” he murmurs, low enough that Miriam nor Zac can hear him, as mother and son come to stand in front of them.

Zac points at Peter; Peter points at Zac; Harley can’t help himself and completes the triangle in perfect meme mimicry. Zac’s only like, eight, but he’s a funny kid. Harley used to dog walk for the Johnson’s before he started working at the mechanics.

The three of them laugh, and then Peter’s dropping into a crouch in front of Zac.

“Hey, there,” Peter says, holding out his hand. “I’m Peter.”

Zac looks at Harley, then up to his mom. Miriam gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Go on, kid,” Harley says. “He doesn’t bite.”

Peter flashes a look over at Harley, but then Zac shakes his hand with childlike enthusiasm, “I’m Spider-Man!”

“Me too, buddy,” Peter says with a private smile. “You out here keeping Rose Hill safe?”

“Yep! And I have candy!”

Peter fishes a piece out of his own pillowcase, one he stole off Harley’s bed, drops it into Zac’s outstretched hand. “Here you go, Spider-Man.”

“What do you say, Zac?” Miriam says.

“Thanks, Peter!”

Peter stands back up next to Harley. “You’re welcome.”

“Hi, Mrs Johnson,” Harley says, polite to a fault. “You guys having fun?”

“Yes, Harley, thank you,” Miriam says, kindly. “Who’s your friend?”

It’s not that Harley particularly cares what Miriam Johnson thinks, or the rest of Rose Hill for that matter, but there’s a moment of stomach swooping anxiety, so far ingrained into him by growing up in the Bible Belt. But it’s Peter who answers, unaware of Harley having a low-grade panic attack next to him.

“I’m Peter,” with hand out again in repetition. “Harley’s boyfriend.”

Miriam’s eyes flicker back to Harley, in that way only straight white women do when they suddenly find out someone they never imagined would be is queer. The butterflies in Harley’s stomach settle when all she does is shake Peter’s hand.

“Oh!” She exclaims, and the butterflies kick back up again. “I didn’t know Harley was dating anyone, Macy didn’t even tell me.”

Harley knows with utter certainty that his relationship status will be common knowledge within the next couple of days, but in that moment, he’s never loved his mother more.

Harley shrugs when Miriam looks at him, as if he owes her some explanation.

Peter laughs, awkwardly, recovers quickly enough to ask, “How do you know Macy?”

“We went to school together,” Miriam answers, which is typical for almost the entire population of Rose Hill at one point or another. “Where are you from, Peter, you don’t sound like you’re from here?”

“He’s from New York,” Harley chimes in. “A regular ol’ city slicker.”

“Isn’t that where your Spider-Man is from, Zac, darling?”

Zac nods his head, several times, looking at Peter with a newfound sense of awe. Peter shoots a poorly concealed look of panic Harley’s way.

“Zac,” Harley calls, grabbing the kid’s attention. “Peter’s even met him, once or twice.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Harley replies. “Haven’t you, Pete?”

“Uh—sure, yeah, I have,” is Peter’s fumbled response. “He’s really—cool.”

Harley smothers a laugh. 

“Whoa," says Zac, bright and wide-eyed. 

“Isn’t that exciting!” Miriam says, utterly oblivious. 

Peter stands there like a stick in the mud, and Harley’s left to wrap things up.

“Anyways, we better go find Abby before she takes your whole stock of Warheads,” Harley says.

“I made sure there was extra just for her,” Miriam says, smiling at Harley. “Tell your mother I said hello, Harley.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And it was nice meeting you, Peter.”

Peter gives her a hundred-watt grin. “Likewise, Mrs Johnson.”

Zac waves in their direction as he and his mom walk off. Peter turns to him with that grin still on his face.

“What did I tell you, Harl?” Peter says, as they head back into the fray to find Harley’s sister. “I’m not the only one dressed up as Spider-Man.”

“Tony’s still going to kill you, man,” Harley replies, but there’s a smile creeping over his own face in light of Peter’s delight.

They find Abby conspiring with her knife-clown and fairy princess friend, swapping sweets in the orange light of the carved pumpkin.

“Abby,” Harley calls, grabbing her attention. “You want to go to some of the other houses?”

“Can Lucy and Cam come, too?”

Harley nods. “As long as their parents are fine with it.”

“We already asked,” knife-clown pipes in. “They’re cool.”

They trek out of the Johnson’s yard and back into the street. The sun is starting to disappear below the horizon, gilding the red leaves with gold. Harley and Peter walk ahead of the girls, hand in hand. They can hear the girls talking, can hear Abby explain who Peter is with a ‘and they’re holding hands! gross!’ Peter and him snicker together, and their kiss is greeted with a chorus of bleughhhhh behind them.

It’s the first Halloween in a long time Harley remembers being happy.

The girls and Peter go from house to house while Harley meanders along, thinking about how this year everything is different but not really at all. The melancholy’s still there, lingering perpetually underneath the surface, haunting him like a ghost. But waiting at the end of the driveway for his sister and his boyfriend seems easier this year, compared to the past.

They get honeycomb candy from the couple who pretends they aren’t home, run into Abby’s (and Harley’s) old teacher dressed as a witch, somehow manage to shove too many gumballs into already teaming pillowcases. Knife-clown and fairy princess shout their goodbyes at the end of the last street they walk down, hours after they found each other at the Johnsons. Dusk has given way to dark night across Rose Hill, and even Harley’s starting to feel it.

Abby breaks first, plopping herself down on the side of the road. “I’m tired.”

Her overly large pirate hat is slipping down across her face. She yawns big and wide.

“C’mon, bug,” Harley says, dropping down into a crouch, his back facing Abby. “Let’s go home.”

“Okay,” Abby says, not even putting up a fight, and hands off her sack of candy to Peter. 

Abby clambers into the piggyback half asleep, her arms loose around Harley’s shoulders. Harley stands, carefully, hitching her into place for their walk home.

“Hey, Harley?” Abby whispers, voice quiet but still loud enough for Peter to hear. “I had a lot of fun this year.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“You should keep him,” she says, and Harley doesn’t have to ask who.

“I’m planning on it, bug,” he whispers back, catching a glimpse of Peter’s small smile from the corner of his eye.

“Oh,” Abby’s head comes to rest against Harley’s shoulder, her voice sleepy. “That’s good.”

They’re back on their own street, the house down the very end. The light on the porch is visible even from this distance, glowing sepia yellow in the night.

“Bug?” Peter murmurs, after a while, looking at Abby, fast asleep.

Harley glances at his boyfriend. “She went through a period right after Dad left when she refused to answer to Abby or Annabelle, not even to Ma. Bug was the only thing that worked, and even then, it was only me who could use it to any effect.”

Peter nods, once, and Harley knows he’s slipping that thread of the story into the elaborate tapestry that makes up the Keener siblings. Neither of them point out how it’s only Peter who’s allowed to use Harl.

“I’m glad she had fun,” Harley says, some small admission that isn’t lost on Peter.

“Did you?” Peter asks. “Have fun, I mean?”

Harley takes a moment to really think about it. He leans over, presses a kiss to Peter’s cheek.

“Yeah, darlin’, I did.”

October passes between one breath and the next.

Peter smiles at him, as warm as the sun.

[thaumaturgekitchen]

Hobgoblin Cultures

(For more D&D cultures and info on how all this works, see here)

Following on those goblin and bugbear cultures, it’s time to complete the trifecta with hobgoblins! The first culture here is a more heroic take on the traditional hobgoblin legion, while the next two have a nice symmetry involving the Shadowfell and the Feywild. Finally, the last culture here could be an interesting counterpart to yesterday’s bugbear butchers, with hobgoblins and dwarves on one side and bugbears and elves on the other.

Legions of the Northern Front

War rages in the frigid wastelands of the North. As frozen horrors thaw from their slumber to carve a southward trail of devastation, the hobgoblins hold the line. Bound by an ancient oath sworn before their martyred gods, they have rallied their goblin and bugbear cousins to stand beside them in battle. Life on the Front is brutal even for the few civilians who call it home, with frostbite and starvation an ever-looming threat. But in the face of their monstrous enemy, their resolve yet holds.

Common language: Goblin

Pick two:

Gain proficiency in Athletics

Gain proficiency in Medicine

Gain proficiency with pikes and longswords

Gain proficiency with vehicles (land) and one type of musical instrument

Learn the spell Create Bonfire

Doomed Knights

In realms haunted by the grim presence of the Shadowfell, hobgoblins dwell amidst the tattered remains of glories past. They raise their moldering banners and don their tarnished armor, rushing headlong into acts of grandiose futility. Clinging to meager dregs of honor and might, they lord over vassal houses of goblins and bugbears and duel one another over blood-soaked scraps of land and petty slights.

Common language: Goblin

Pick two:

Gain proficiency in History

Gain proficiency in Intimidation

Gain proficiency with longswords and rapiers

Learn the Toll the Dead cantrip

Learn the spell Compelled Duel. You can cast it using any spell slots you have and can cast it 1/long rest at 1st level without expending a spell slot.

Fey Porters

These hobgoblins build their settlements in places where the veil between the material plane and the Feywild is thin, coming and going as they please. Once insular and reclusive, they have since grown adept at facilitating trade and travel and brokering pacts between the two realms. Their maps of the hidden gates and passageways between world are second to none, and through their navigational expertise and masterful diplomacy they have made themselves indispensable on both sides of the planar divide.

Common language: Sylvan or Goblin

Pick two:

Gain proficiency with Persuasion

Gain proficiency with Arcana

Gain proficiency with jeweler's tools and calligraphers' supplies

Gain proficiency with cartographer's tools and vehicles (land)

Learn the Dancing Lights cantrip

Humble Shepherds

Far from the chaos of battle, these hobgoblins tend to their flocks among the hills and valleys of a mountainous land. They share the land around these mountains with the dwarven miners below, and though tensions have flared between them in ages past, they currently enjoy a rather peaceful coexistence. As trade has grown between the dwarves and the hobgoblins, their languages and peoples have intermingled, and it's not uncommon to find a dwarf or two among the hobgoblins' small communities or vice versa.

Common language: Goblin or Dwarvish

Pick two:

Gain proficiency with Animal Handling

Gain proficiency with Athletics

Gain proficiency with weaver's tools and one type of musical instrument

Learn the Druidcraft cantrip

Learn the Shillelagh cantrip

[letaliabane]

The Light Within - (CARE FOR SERIES)

Pair: Thorin Oakenshield x Healer!Reader (a pretty short one too lol)

Genre: Another majorly angsty LONGGGGGGGG chapter (I am so sorry) with little smidges of fluff again if you squint but barelyyyy any (I’m sorry! I promise it gets better!)

Warning: Very angstyy gore, violence, mentions of rape (no rape), death of character

A/N: With Y/N now far from Thorin, will he be able to regain his senses and stop the orcs from their takeover of his Kingdom? Will these lovers be divided by death? Or will something else prevent them from having their chance?   

PREVIOUS (Through The Darkness)

I winced as Gandalf pressed a cold cloth to my neck, the skin now swollen, bruised from Thorin’s violent tossing. The very thought of the dwarf caused tears to rise, a small sob caught in my throat.

Since Gandalf had shepherded me and Bilbo away from the ramparts, Thorin had called on his kin from the Iron Hills, his cousin Dáin, Gandalf had told me specifically. The King turning his back on the battlefield had been the last I had seen of him before being ushered into Thranduil’s tent that had been left unattended. 

I looked up at Gandalf, my tears running freely down my cheeks.

‘Oh my dear.’ He said, wiping them away with the curve of his thumb gently. ‘I am so sorry. Your commitment to breaking Thorin out of his stupor, but that sickness runs deep in his family. That dark magic that was set on his grandfather now clutches his heart. And I believe the only one who will be able to break him free now is himself.’

I pushed away the hair that had fallen in front of my face, now covered in muck and dirt from our escape from the battle briefly. 

‘That dwarf ... that isn’t Thorin Oakenshield, that’s someone I’ve never seen before. And I know I shouldn’t worry now, and yet it still hurts so much.’ 

Gandalf’s deep chuckle made me look up, a small smile on his face. 

‘That is because you love him, my dear.’ 

I looked up at him in shock, words faltering as his fingertips grazed the braid that was now revealed my shoulder, the silver bead holding it together glinting in the light of the lantern sitting overhead. I couldn’t help the shaky sigh that left my lips. 

‘That I-I do. I do love him Gandalf! I can’t deny it anymore ...’ 

Gandalf smiled, taking my hands into his. ‘I knew you would find your way to one another. I knew it from the moment you both bickered when you first met. I knew it when you shared that precious moment within the walls of Beorn’s walls.’ 

I couldn’t stop the chuckle that fell from my lips, even as the tears glided down my cheeks. ‘I never thought you to be an eavesdropper Gandalf!’

He scoffed. 

‘I am no such thing my dear! When one wants secrecy, they must do it where no one shall overhear!’ 

The smile faded as soon as it appeared, shaking my head, ‘Gandalf I can’t give up on him. I can’t leave him behind.’ 

Gandalf sighed, eyes momentarily flicking to the entrance of the tent where Bilbo stood on watch, screams and shouts of war rising and growing louder by the second. He placed a hand on my cheek gently. 

‘Then don’t my dear, stay and hope that that dwarf comes to his senses. And if doesn’t we will find some way to bring him back.’ I nodded with a small smile, squeezing his hand as he got to his feet with a groan. ‘But first we must fight to live another day. Are you ready?’

Glancing down towards my sword, I gripped it, also getting to my feet. 

‘More than ever.’ 

A cry left my lips as I thrust my sword into the neck of an orc that had fallen to his knees before me, screeching wildly as I withdrew, blood spraying across ground as it collapsed. 

Gasping for air, I wiped away the ichor against my pants that stained my hand, leaning against the bridge as I looked over the bloodied field where the chaos raged on between all creatures, armour shining brightly against the harsh sunlight.  

The Orcs had descended upon the battle of the elves, humans and the dwarves, taking us all by surprise, their numbers far greater and far more powerful than all three parties combined. 

The kingdoms would be ripped apart if they weren’t stopped, and the company that hid within the mountain of Erebor would all but be overthrown. 

I turned as Bilbo stood beside me, covered in blood and muck, both of us standing in silence as we watched on. He took my hand in his, voice merely a whisper. ‘Y/N, do you think we will live to see another day?’

I looked to him at this, my eyes wide and glistening before turning away. The very thought of a new day rising after one such as this seemed unlikely, and it frightened me to even hold onto such hopes. Not when all I wanted hid within the mountain, the obsession of gold to strong for him-

Suddenly a deep rumble echoed across the plains, making me turn back towards the battlefield. There, standing upon the great dwarf statue of Erebor, was Bomber, blowing into a large horn.

The makeshift rampart was ripped apart, a magnificent golden bell ringing through the silence that had fallen upon the battlefield, all eyes watching. 

Before a familiar Khuzdul battle cry came forth. 

I couldn’t stop the loud gasp that had left my lips as Thorin emerged into the sunlight. Cloak and crown gone, instead a sword in hand, running onwards into the fight with the company at his side. 

I smiled through the blur of tears as the dwarves began to fight against the orcs alongside the elves and Dain’s army. I looked towards Gandalf with, after so long, a large smile, tears streaming down my face. 

‘They’re fighting back-Gandalf, their fighting back.’

He looked over us towards the mountain, his face instantly turning from a scowl to a small smile full of hope, almost like a child, ‘They’re rallying their king! There may be hope for us yet.’ 

However, that small bit of hope was stamped out when a raven flew over head, landing before me only moments later. I unclasped the note from around it’s foot, hurriedly unrolling it. 

‘Gandalf.’ 

He turned at my firm tone, making his way towards me along with Bilbo. 

‘Legolas sends word that Azog has another army attacking!’ 

‘From where? Where my dear?’

A chill ran down my spine as I read the messy elven handwriting, looking up towards the wizard. ‘From the North, right towards Ravenhill.’ 

Gandalf huffed, eyes wide in horror before looking towards the hilltop where the dwarves had headed for. ‘We must warn Fili, Kili and the others. If we don’t they’ll be in great danger once they enter the depths of Ravenhill. Bilbo, you know what to do.’

Bilbo nodded and set off immediately, disappearing into the crowd. But as I went to follow, Gandalf grabbed my shoulder, shaking his head. 

‘Not you my dear! You’ll take another route, and more importantly to Thorin. If it’s anyone he needs at his side right now, it’s you’

I nod at this before following him, fighting alongside him through the oncoming hoards of orcs before he led me to a group of eagles cawed as they fought of those who dared to attack, throwing them over the ramparts. 

Gandalf, leading me over to the largest of the group, gave me a boost up onto  the great creature. ‘Keep your head down and your heart full of courage. Get to Thorin and warn him of the oncoming dangers that are coming but be careful. I don’t want to lose my one good apprentice.’

I stared down at the wizard with a smile, shaking my head. 

‘Oh Gandalf, didn’t you know that getting into trouble is what I’m famous for?’

With one last smile towards me along with a nod, Gandalf raised his staff towards the eagle that let out a shriek before lifting off in flight, the rushing of wind welcoming me into its arms as I clung to the eagle’s beautiful feathers.

As we rose above the clouds, I could only pray that we would make it to the hill, and hope we were not too late. 

The ride to Ravenhill was a lot more dangerous than I had anticipated, on our descent the frost becoming like sharp glass against my skin, the eagles shrieking as they forced themselves through the storm. 

Through the fray of white, I sighted the peaks of the blackened ruins of Ravenhill, a ripped flag flailing in the winds violently, the howl of the wind echoing across the hilltop. 

I gripped my sword tightly, tightening my group as the eagle flew down towards the towers, giving me time to slip down before it took off to join its pack, continuing to circle above. 

Without a moments hesitation, I ran across the the length of the tower, careful of the mounds of snow that covered the path before reaching the crumbled window only to gasp in horror. Looking out over the frozen lake, I instantly recognised the dwarf that staggered across the ice, a towering one armed Orc trailing after him with a chained brick weapon, swinging it towards him. 

Thorin, now holding the beautifully elven crafted sword Orchrist, shining in the light of the rising sun, standing his ground against the pale Orc who roared. 

I ran down the first set of stairs I came across, down torn corridors and passages, before I slid across the frozen lake towards the duel. With Azog’s back turned to me, I easily found an open, slipping my sword across his side, slicing through the pale skin. 

I scurried backwards as the ugly beast reared its head towards me, along with his brick and chain, just catching the ice where I had just moments before stood upon. 

‘Y/N?!’ I glanced towards Thorin, and couldn’t stop the brief smile that broke across my face only to shriek as a brick came hauling at me, barely missing me this time. ‘Foolish girl! Leave now!’ 

‘I’m not leaving you! Not again!’ I screamed, dodging Azog’s sworded up, once again slashing him across the same wounded side, making him shriek, his black blood spilling out across the ice. 

I ran to Thorin, the dwarf catching me in his arms as I slipped. I gripped him tightly, regaining my breath as I looked up at him. 

‘W-We have to leave! Ano-Another army is set to attack from the North!’ 

His eyes widened in horror. ‘What?!’ 

‘Please, we must leave now before it’s too late-’

I gasped at the abrupt shrill high call of the Orc horn I had knew far too well, both of us turning to see the sight of a dark shadowed mass marching over the hill. Shaking my head, Thorin grasped my hand tightly as Azog dragged himself to his feet, growling. 

But through all the pain he felt, the monster still smirked, swinging the chained brick high above his head before slinging it towards us, both parting instantly to avoid it. 

We circled him, almost working as one as the Orc looked between us, snarling, thrashing his weapon around, all to be in vain, only to become lodged into the thick layer of ice. 

It was only when Azog’s gaze became altered over our shoulders I couldn’t help but take a glance, only to shriek as a group of much larger, magnificent and proud as they flew straight towards the oncoming army. And I couldn’t help but chuckle at the small figure of Radogast that sat comfortable upon one of the eagle. 

However, it was a moment that had distracted me for far too long, a unexpected sharp pain ran up my side, a scream leaving my lips as Azog swung his sworded arm across me, sending me to my knees. I bit down on my lip hard, trying to crawl away as the towering behemoth laughed aloud. 

But as he raised the sworded appendage above my head, he was stopped by Thorin as it came down, who thrust his whole body weight against Orchrist, sending Azog backwards. 

Dropping his sword and with all his might, Thorin threw the bricked chain back towards the Defiler, the creature tipping backwards and disappearing fast beneath the water. 

It was once the silence fell over us I let out a loud sigh, tears of earnest falling. I whimpered as arms wrapped around me carefully, bringing me to my feet. I smiled up at Thorin, even as he scowled, shaking his head. 

‘You foolish woman! Yo-You came back! After everything that happened-After everything I did you came back!’ 

I laughed softly, pressing a hand to his cheek, heart soaring as he leant into my cheek, nuzzling against my palm. ‘That wasn’t you. I knew you would come back to me, I just had to be there when you needed me.’

Tears glazed his eyes as the first real smile I had seen in months, drawing me close to press a kiss against my forehead. I leant my head against his chest, a tired but joyous smile upon my lips. 

It was over, the war was over. 

I peaked my eyes open, only to gasp in horror at the sight of Azog beneath our feet, that same dangerous smile painted across his features. 

A scream wrenched itself from Thorin, his grip painfully tight on my waist. Looking down in horror to see the familiar blade that belonged to Azog’s arm. Only to be thrown from the warm embrace as the shriek and crackle of ice, landing on the hard frozen lake. 

I looked up in time as Azog leapt up out of the ice, sending Thorin to the ground, barely pulling out his sword to stop the jagged metal from piercing his chest, arms shaking uncontrollably, barely able to hold his own against the towering Orc. 

I shakily got to my feet, gripping my sword before running at him, screaming as I drove my sword deep into Azog’s chest, a guttural, bloodied gasp leaving his lips before I pulled him off of Thorin. With him staring up at me, I swung my sword down, once more pushing deep into the already gaping wound in his chest. 

And as the light faltered in his eyes, I spat. ‘Burn in hell, filth.’ 

Without sparing a moment, I dropped to Thorin’s side, my hands clasping his face. 

‘Thorin can you hear me? Are you okay?’ 

‘Y-Y/N ...’ 

I smiled as he gripped my hand, only for it to fade at the scarlet that covered his hand. Looking down I noticed the wound in his chest, the tunic he wore beneath his coat soaked in blood. 

‘Oh lord Mahal-’ I whistled as loud as I could, looking up into the skies where the eagles continued to circle, their dark shadows passing amongst the cloud. Suddenly, I coughed violently, leaning away from Thorin, wiping at my mouth, only to find blood. 

‘No no no-’ 

Again I whistled, body shaking as I looked around. A hand pressed against my cheek, gasping as Thorin looked up at me, a gentle smile on his lips. 

‘It-it’s alright my dear one, it’s alright-’

I shook my head, pressing a firm kiss to his hand. ‘No no no Thorin. You are going to live! You will not die this day, you’ve just gotta stay awake for me, alright?’ 

‘I feel so sleepy ...’

I held back a sob, squeezing his hand. ‘I know, Thorin, I know but you have to keep your eyes open! Help is coming! Y-You made me promise you that we would try-that we would try a hand at us! You’ve gotta stay awake-’

However as the words left my lips, his eyelids slid closed, the grip faltering on my cheek as tiredness over took his entire body. 

‘Thorin don’t you dare close your eyes!’ I cried, gripping his cheek while the other hand pressed down on his wound, trying to stem the blood that flowed over my fingertips. I looked around once again, screaming into the smoke that rose over the frozen peaks of the waterfall. 

‘SOMEBODY HELP US! PLEASE SOMEBODY?!’ 

I screamed, and screamed, and screamed. 

Even when my voice became hoarse, I still screamed at the top of my lungs. 

Even as blood spilt down my clothes, I still cried out weakly. 

And even as the shadows crept across my vision as I lay beside my unconcious lover, and the blurred outline of a figure came into view, I whimpered.

‘H-Help us ...’ 

I groaned as I opened my eyes, blinded by the piercing light that entered through the overhead windows. Slowly I sat up, gasping in pain that filled my side, and then I remembered. 

The war, Azog. And Thorin. 

I rushed to get out of bed, shakily getting to my feet only to fall foward towards the stone floor. However I didn’t make impact, held up by Kili. 

‘What are you doing Y/N?! I’ve known you for being an early riser but you must stay in bed! Oin has commanded it!’ 

I gripped his arm as he helped me sit back on the soft mattress, sighing at the pounding in my head. Once blurring in my vision had faded, I really took in the scene around me to realise we were within the halls of Erebor. 

Dwarves and dwarrodams with medical pouches walked through the aisles, standing beside other injured soldiers, a calmness settled over the entire room that we hadn’t felt for months. I looked back up towards him with a small smile. 

‘It’s over isn’t it?’

He was hugging me before I could even register it, a small hiccup of pain leaving me before I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close. I ran a hand through his hair, chuckling-or a sobbing-I couldn’t even tell.

‘Oh thank Mahal you’re alright!’ 

‘The others are too.’ I couldn’t help but relax against him at his words, pulling away to look at him up and down, inspecting him carefully. 

‘And you are not hurt?’ 

‘A few bruises and cuts, every soldier must to be able to tell the tales of war!’ 

I smiled, but once again thought back to the dwarf I had gone on that desperate mission to save. I gripped Kili’s hand painfully. ‘And Thorin? Is he-’

‘Alive and healing thanks to you.’ 

I sighed, this time an even greater weight lifting from me. Tears of relief rose in my eyes, looking up at the young dwarf who smiled down at me. 

‘May I-’

‘Of course you can. Just don’t tell Oin I’m going against his orders taking away from your time of resting!’ 

Once dressed in my clothes, which I found had been washed and dried, felt clean against my skin, Kili led me to Thorin’s chambers. More like carried me, taking on most of my body weight to avoid leaning on my right side. I couldn’t help but smile at other dwarves and dwarrodams we passed, earning many in return. 

We all had fought for this victory, and free of the Orc’s reign of darkness. Now we could finally smile without the fear of dying on the morrow. 

We reached an ornate corridor, adorned with gold and jewels across the walls from roof to the marble floors, and at the very end I could see two guards guarding a large oak door, much different to the room Thorin had taken when ill under the dragon sickness. 

There were two other dwarves standing before the entrance, chatting amongst themselves, turning to us as we arrived. With the door slightly ajar, I squinted, looking past the shoulders of the dwarves to see a Thorin, cleaned, bandaged, and peacefully resting, 

‘We are here to visit the King-’

The door was shut with a slam, Kili cut off by the one who looked the oldest, his pointed nose raised to us and voice firm. ‘No one is to enter these chambers besides the King’s healer or advisors!’ 

The Prince scoffed. ‘Do you know who you’re talking to? I am King Thorin’s nephew, I am his kin and I order you to allow us in to see the King!’ 

‘I know who you are laddie, and I certainly know who this woman is.’ 

Why did it seem that everyone knew me before I knew them?

I looked toward the dwarf with a raised eyebrow. ‘And who do you think I am?’ 

He smirked. ‘Word of you reached Ered Luin long before the company of Thorin Oakenshield even reached the cusp of our homeland. Must’ve been a good offer you made our King to join such a company-’

‘I offered my skills-’

‘And much more I think.’ 

I stared down the second dwarf, cringing inwardly at the ugly smile he sent my way as he looked me up and down, a stare I wasn’t unfamiliar with.  

I pushed off of Kili, now nose to nose with him. ‘Watch your tongue-’

‘And you will watch yours missy. You are nothing than a common woman with no title, no family, and nothing to give to this King, or this kingdom. And if word gets out that the King has fallen for a human? Oof, you better run further than the hills. You wouldn’t last a day-’ 

‘Is that a threat?’

‘No, it’s merely a warning! Because you will be ruined either way, whether you are dead, or defiled beyond reprieve.’

My gut churned at his words, an anger I hadn’t felt in a very long time burning inside me, the memories of my time as a prisoner at the hands of the orcs sweeping through my mind. Everything they had done to me, the way they tied me down, ripped my clothes off, and did nothing but violate me.

Kili, who hadn’t noticed my state, stepped forward in a rage. ‘How dare you speak of her in such a way! You are nothing but cowards! She saved the King’s life-’

‘Then that is her job done innit? Hurry along and find someone else to travel along with, maybe you’ll find some new purpose for yourself, become someone else’s bitch-’ 

I didn’t remain to hear the rest of the cruel dwarf’s words. Breathing uneven, tears streaming down my face, I ran through the halls, letting the calls of my name that rang out behind me fall deaf upon me. 

It felt like everything was spinning, blurred as I fell against a wall, catching my breath, the taste of iron on my tongue. I gripped the marble beneath my nails, as if it would ground myself to reality, distract me from the images of the laughing orcs who had held me down, to dissolve the ugly smiles and laughter that erupted from them once they were finished.  

‘Y/N? You silly woman, why are you out of bed? You should be resting! Your wound is bleeding again!’ 

My eyes shot open at the sight of Gandalf, standing tall over me. Almost instantly, the sternness in his features creased into worry, taking my face into his hands carefully, wiping away the tears. 

‘Breathe my dear, breathe.’

I gasped, inhaling as much air as I could, gripping the wizards arms as sobs left me. With the shaking not ceasing, I looked back up towards Gandalf, tears still trekking down my face. 

‘Please take me away from here Gandalf-’

‘Why? What has happened?’

I shook my head. ‘I can’t stay here, I-I can’t be here when Thorin wakes up. Please! Take me away from here!’ 

NEXT (The Aftemath - Coming soon)

A/N: I am so sorry this chapter took so long but here we are! Will it get better? We shall see! I’m sorry!! *runs away*

If your needy for more, read the original CARE FOR series or check out the Masterlist

CARE FOR TAG LIST: @alyhull , @bellastellaluna​ , @sdavid09 , @aidanturnersass , @letsbeinspiredby , @hiddenmangaka , @female-hux , @elia-the-bibliophile , @fangirlbitch02 @nickangel13​ @thatteluguchick​