#tupperwip

[elkieselkiewrites]

OC Kiss Week 25

Day 3: Stolen

Ship: Hob/Merry

WIP: Tupper's Tale

Warnings: Infidelity, mentions of forced marriage

~*~

The orchard was, indeed, pleasant in the evenings, the cooling earth as fragrant as the ripening fruit. The two of them walked in silence for a while, side by side, before Hob could bear it no longer.

"You're married." He said plainly. "And expecting a child."

"Yes." Merry replied.

"You stopped writing."

"Yes."

Hob paused. "Why?"

"I had to."

"Because you got married?"

"Before then, you know that." She said, chastising.

It stung, to be spoken to like some petulant child. Hob turned to her, anger, hurt, and resentment all bubbling furiously beneath his skin. "Did you fall in love with someone else? Decide that you wanted more than I could give?"

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even have the decency to tell me you were getting married. You didn't even invite Eadwig."

"Do you think that was my choice?" Merry snapped. "Do you think so little of me that I would just leave without a word, get married without my brother and my best friend by my side?"

Hob was taken aback somewhat by the raw pain in her voice.

"My parents found your letters, Hob. They were furious, they thought I had given myself to some poor church boy, that my virtue was compromised and that I'd never find a husband. So, they took away my parchment and ink, locked me in my room until they had secured me an appropriate match that would hide any consequences of our indescretions. A week after that I was married to a man I hadn't meet until his hand was tied to mine." She paused to take a deep breath, bracing herself with a hand on her lower back.

"If I had the power to get you pregnant, that would be the kind of miracle that might even earn me a pardon from the High Priest himself." Hob said lightly. Merry glared at him for a moment before her anger fell away to a quiet bought of helpless laughter.

"How dare you make a joke of this!" She said, swatting Hob's arm.

Hob grinned at her, and when she smiled back it felt as though, just for a second, they were the same children stealing apples from trees in the monastery. Then her smile softened to something sad, and the cool night air caught up with them once again.

"Alaric is not a bad man." She continued. "He treats me well, and values my opinions, even in his war room."

"Sounds like a catch." Hob replied dryly.

"He's a damn sight better than I had expected, especially after everything that happened. I thought my parents would have married me off to some gouty, old Marcher Lord as his fifth wife. It was what they thought I deserved after all."

"This Alaric isn't old and gouty then?"

Merry laughed softly again. "Decidedly not. He's older than I am, yes, but not widowed. He's the younger brother of a Clan Chief, he was always there for his brother when he needed him, and didn't have time for a wife or children before now."

"Merewyn Reksana" Hob said softly, the Ostron title rolling off his tongue.

She nodded. "It sounds strange, doesn't it?"

"It sounds grand. It suits you."

"You don't mean that."

"I don't mean that."

She laughed and nudged Hob playfully. Hob nudged her back, and her smile was enough to banish the early evening chill.

"It was Ulfilas, the Chief, who agreed to the marriage, not Alaric. Neither of us had wanted to be married to the other, which was, surprisingly, what brought us together in the end."

Hob was quiet for a moment, studying her face, a face he had so missed for so many years. "So, you're happy, then?" He said at last.

"It is not the life I would have chosen for myself," She replied. "But yes, I believe I am. I care for Alaric, he has become a dear friend, and understands, I think, that I would have preferred to have been sent to that convent all those years ago. I always envied Eddy for that."

Hob felt tears begin to prick the corners of his eyes. "There was never any chance for us really, was there?"

Merry's answering laugh was watery too. "No, I think not."

Her fingers reached out to tentatively entwine themselves through Hob's, and he felt his heart begin to beat frantically against his ribcage. Hob took her hand more firmly in his own and pulled her gently towards the dark shade of the nearest tree, releasing her only so that he could cup her face in both of his hands, before he kissed her. She sighed into it, pressing herself against him as much as her belly would allow, running a thumb along Hob's cheek as hot tears began to spill down them.

"I have missed you so much." Hob whispered.

She laughed softly and peppered his face with small, tear-damp kisses. "You have been with me every day since we parted, in my head and in my heart. I have never been lonely for memories of you, but I cannot say I haven't missed your kisses."

It occurred to Hob in that instance that Merry was taller than him now, not by much, but enough that looking up her unbound hair, painted black in the cool moonlight, was wreathed with pomegranate leaves and crowned with stars. It felt so much like a dream that Hob found himself furiously blinking the tears away in case the image of Merry's face were somehow to dissolve into them if he didn't.

The moment was shattered by the curfew bells as they began to call out into the darkness.

"We cannot stay here, someone will find us soon enough." Hob rested his forehead against Merry's and sighed regretfully.

Merry brushed a few errant tears from her face and forced a shaky smile. "This was a pleasant dream, but I suppose all dreamers must wake. I will return to my life, and you to yours. Promise me you will look after yourself, and my fool of a brother."

Hob could feel the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks again, so simply nodded, kissed her hands reverently, and stole one last kiss from her lips before pulling his hood up and disappearing back into the night.

[elkieselkiewrites]

heads up seven up / writing share tag 🎸

Thanks to @gullwrites for tagging me! Here is approximately 7 sentences from a Tupper WIP chapter I was reworking today:

“Are you from the Provinces?” Hob asked as he watched the monk's hands dive into the rich loam. Meregrund chuckled. “No, boy. I was born in Aventir, on the Northern coast between Witherfleet and Marskham, but my parents were Atlan merchants. I was taken under the Night Father’s wing after the flux took the rest of my family.” Hob was silent for a moment. The flux rarely touched small village communities, it was an illness of the waterways and the great coastal cities, but even Hob's pastoral home knew of the way it boiled and bubbled and melted your insides. It was not a death to wish on anyone.

I'll zero pressure tag @myhusbandsasemni, @pizzamanstan, @justthehopeleft and @zonnemaagd plus an open tag!

[elkieselkiewrites]

Since @pizzamanstan's ask brought it up the other day, here is the original map for Tupper's Tale:

I changed it for a variety of reasons, including but not limited to turning down the fantasy aspect of the story so much that parts of the map became irrelevant.

The layout is still something I think I like better than the one I have currently for it, and since I feel like I've improved a lot in the 7 years or so since I made this, I decided it needed a revamp:

It's still not perfect, but it's progress!

[elkieselkiewrites]

OC Kiss Week 25

Day 5: Worship

Ship: Hob/Kent

WIP: Tupper's Tale

Warnings: Semi-voyeuristic make-out sesh, blasphemy (of a fantasy religion), mild sexual content

~*~

It had been a week since Hob and Kent had first shared a bed, and in the flush of a new relationship, it had been all that Hob could think about for each of those seven days.

He didn't regret moving back into his rooms with Eddy, he had missed Eadwig and their close companionship more than Hob had been willing to admit. However, it did mean that there was little time that he and Kent could spend with one another in private, and only so many times Hob wanted to risk being caught scaling the trellis outside Kent's bedroom window.

It was torturous, spending prayers on his knees in the chapel, catching glimpses of Kent from across the room, looking up to find him already watching, pale cheeks flushed pink. So much so, that upon completing noonday prayers, Hob found himself hidden in the shadow of one of the pillars nearest the doorway, watching Kent bid farewell to the priests, waiting for him to come within arms reach.

Kent almost cried out when he felt a hand close around his wrist, tugging him from his path out of the chapel, but upon seeing Hob, his jaw snapped shut, eyes widening as he crowded him against the nearest wall.

"What in the Father's name do you think you're doing?" Kent hissed.

Hob placed a finger against his lips and gestured to the washroom before pulling him behind the curtain.

The washroom was empty, of course, for all supplicants washed before prayers, not after them. The midday sun was spilling through the windows like pale gold, reflecting off the small tiles in dancing fragments that flickered as Hob and Kent's shadows followed them to the far corner of the room.

Hob pulled Kent forward, and Kent fell helplessly against him, giving in to the desire thrumming beneath his skin, pressing their lips together in a wet, open-mouthed kiss.

"There are still priests in the chapel." Kent murmured, but his voice had all but dropped an octave, thick with want.

"Then we had best say our prayers." Hob replied between kisses.

Kent groaned, mouth falling to the crook of Hob's neck. "Oh my Mother of the Dawn, we have been purified-"

Hob gasped, part shock and part pleasure. "That's blasphemy!"

"In the name of the Life and of the Day," Kent continued, trailing kisses up Hob's neck, breath hot in his ear. "I worship the Life and the Day, of your making, oh Mother of the Dawn."

Hob canted his hips upwards, meeting Kent's own with a hiss of pleasure. As Kent rolled his hips in return, Hob heard himself join his prayers breathlessly. Fervent words of worship dripping from their lips, falling between them, molten and sweet as syrup on their tongues.

As the crest of their pleasure built, and built and finally broke over them, the room seemed to fill with light so bright and warm it left visions of stars behind their closed eyelids.

With their foreheads rested together, it seemed almost as though their skin was glowing, glistening with a sheen of sweat, but also somehow lit from within. Hob wondered in that moment whether their Mother Dawn had perhaps preferred their prayers in the washroom moreso than those in the chapel, but didn't dare speak it aloud lest it cause some offence to a higher being. Though he could see, in the light of Kent's strange blue eyes, that the thought had crossed his mind too.

[elkieselkiewrites]

The World of 'Tupper's Tale'

The Kingdom of Aventir - The middle Kingdom, where our story begins, is sandwiched between the Western Reaches and the Eastern Provinces. The Kingdom consists of 4 marches: Westermarch, Eastermarch, Suthermarch, and Nordermarch, each ruled by their own Marcher Lords who swear fealty to the King who presides over the Capital Gildhaven in the centre of the country. Aventir is the economic and military centre of the continent, powerful and affluent, but with an pseudo-feudalist society that leaves many in poverty. The people of Aventir share many similarities linguistically and culturally with the Ostron clans to the West. The Aventir people may have been descended from the original Ostron people who first crossed the mountains, mixed with the ancestors of the Provincial Peoples and the Atlans from whom they first took the land.

The Eastern Provinces - Voila, Estiu, Coire and Curune. Home to the Provincial Peoples, the great Romantics whose poetry and music are famed throughout the continent. Much of the rolling hills are fertile farmland, growing grapes, figs, and citrus fruits, but especially in the Province of Voila, great fields of lavender. The mountainous Province of Coire to the South is famous for its hill singers who communicate through complex songs that echo around the mountain passes. The Province of Curune, by the sea, is the cultural centre with the ancient walled citadel of the capital city Adima, the shining jewel of the Provinces. The people of the Eastern Provinces are more closely linked to the Atlan people of the South than the people of Aventir, their skin and hair darker, their food richer, their language more in tune with their Southern neighbours.

The Western Reaches - Beyond the Aventir Westermarch territory lies the Western Reaches, home to the Ostron Clans, a mostly thalassocratic society. The Reaches are rocky and difficult places to live and farm and thrive, and the people are hardened by this. Most of the land is characterised by great crags and sea cliffs, with the southernmost stretches of land wet, misty plains, and the east lined with mountains. Most Ostron either herd goats or hunt whales, and the people are famous for their great longships, equally as good for waging war as hunting whales. Each clan has it’s own fortress and lands, but they fluctuate and the clans are often at war with one another. The most powerful clans hold the coast, while the smaller peaceful clans tend settle for what land they can get in the hills and wetlands. Though not the largest or most influential, the Ufarnan Clan have had a seat at the castle of Menahal consecutively for over two centuries, the longest any clan has managed to hold an ancestral seat without losing it to another clan. Menahal sits on a cliff at the northern edge of the Menawake, sheltered from the bitter West Winds and the Hungering Sea, but in an opportune position for trade into the continent due to its proximity to the largest break in the mountains in the whole country. The Ostron people are said to have come from a land far to the West that was lost beneath the sea.

Atla - The large group of free states to the South beyond the Atlan Gulf. The capital and central power of Atla is the city of Odeš. They used to live on both coasts of the Atlan Gulf, but were forced back South when the Aventir people moved in from the west. Odeš is ruled over by a council who have a permanent seat in the city. This council is voted for by the rulers of the vassal lands of Atla. Relations between the Council in Odeš and the King in Gildhaven are strained, as they are the only real threat to Aventir's monopoly of power in the northern continent. However, despite Aventir's military power, they could not compare in sheer size and numbers to the Atlan state, so a tentative relationship is maintained, with trade on the Gulf coast, and the occasional political marriage.

[elkieselkiewrites]

OC Kiss Week 25

Day 2: First

(friend)Ship: Hob & Eddy

WIP: Tupper's Tale

Warnings: Mention of non-specific, off-screen domestic violence

~*~

The two of them stared at the illumination on the page in silent curiosity. It was a full half a folio in size, surrounded by an intricate frame of curling leaves and vines, adorned with delicately crafted moon flowers and gold leaf that still shone despite its age. It was not the richness of the decoration that had truly captivated them, though, rather, it was the image itself.

Painted in the varied shades of twilight were two figures; one a full-figured woman, large and soft, golden and rosy as the dawn; the other tall and slender, swathed in all the deep colours of dusk. It was the Dawn Mother and Night Father themselves, locked in a close embrace, lips touching, eyes closed in clear and vivid ecstasy.

"What do you suppose they're doing?" Eddy said into the quiet of the scriptorium.

Hob couldn't meet Eddy's eye, and felt his cheeks begin to warm. "They're kissing, Ed. Have you never seen a couple kissing before?"

"Of course!" Eddy spluttered. "But not like that."

"That's how a husband and wife are supposed to kiss." Hob said, slightly wistfully. His own parents had never kissed like that, not that he could ever remember. Whenever his father had touched his mother it was with force and intent, and he had never seen his mother smile as the Dawn Mother did, in blushed hues of halcyon joy.

Eddy broke Hob's reverie with a shaky question. "Have you ever…"

Hob shook his head. "Have you?"

Eddy confessed that he had not either, and both fell back into silence, just staring at the two figures on the parchment.

"What do you think it feels like?" Eddy's voice was hoarse.

"They look like they're enjoying it." Hob replied.

Eddy scoffed. "They're gods, though. I'm sure everything feels wonderful to them. I mean, do you think it feels good for ordinary people?"

Hob looked up at Eddy then, gratified to see that his face was as flushed as his own. "Did you want to try it?"

Eddy's nose wrinkled, but his gaze kept flitting back to the open page. He nodded once.

Hob nodded in return and turned to face his best friend. He had kissed his siblings on the cheek and on the head before, he had even been treated to a kiss on the lips from his smallest sisters on occasion. How different could this be?

They both angled themselves to match the illustration. Touching one another's faces was awkward, but if that was how it was done, then that was how they were going to do it. They both leaned forward, and Hob felt his eyes flutter shut as his lips met Eddy's.

There was a moment after initial contact, when the cold of spit-slicked lips warmed, and the feeling of flesh upon unfamiliar flesh became less odd. It was this moment that Hob let his lips part, when they both could feel the heat of the other's mouth, and the strange touch of a tongue.

The two sprang apart spluttering theatrically. Hob was pulling a face while Eddy hurriedly wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve.

"That was awful! Why would anyone want to do that?"

"You must be right about it being different for the gods." Hob said. "I'd never make the faces they were making while doing that."

Eddy hummed with agreement, a small, disgusted shudder running up his spine.

[elkieselkiewrites]

Snippet Sunday 09/02

Okay folks, I'm going to do it. I'm going to post a snippet I wrote the other day that is a short, soft sex scene.

Not many of my stories have sex scenes, I don't usually find them integral to the story, so I often just imply, or fade to black, but this bit of Tupper WIP felt like it deserved some loving, gender-affirming sex, so that's what we've got!

The context is that Kent has confessed his feelings to Hob, and Hob has revealed that they have been living as a man all of their life, but that they are (ostensibly but not in so many words) trans.

I don't really write explicit anything, but this is still probably an 18+ snippet, so I hope you enjoy...

~*~

Hob whispered his name, voice wavering, but Kent shook his head with a small, fond smile. "I love you, Hob Tupper, scribe of our Father Night, whatever garb you wear."

With that, Hob kissed him. Not passionately, not really, but fervently and with as much love as he could pour into it. Hob could feel Kent's mouth open invitingly, the hot slick of his tongue glancing over Hob's lips as his hand moved to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

"Kent," Hob gasped as they broke apart. "I want you to take me to bed, but if this isn't what you want, if you can't make peace with the body I have under my habit, we could do just this forever and I'd be content."

Kent smiled and kissed him again. "I admit that I have little experience in this area, but I hadn't intended to make peace with your body, Hob, I'd rather hoped I could make love to it instead."

Hob barked out a startled laugh and kissed and kissed and kissed him.

As the candle at the writing desk guttered out, Kent made good on his word, sometimes faltering in action but never in intent. Hob took him into his body with burning fervour, breath and sweat mingling as they revelled in one another. In the velvet dark Kent ran hands over Hob's soft thighs and stomach, sank teeth into his shoulder as their hips rolled together, and throughout it all whispered words of adoration and acceptance.

Kent didn't know Hob's body as Merry had done, he had yet to learn all of the places that would make Hob weep with pleasure, but in the cooling afterglow, as Kent nuzzled into the crook of Hob's neck, sleep finally taking him, Hob realised that he had never felt more at one with himself. He loved this man not with the burning passion of his youth, but with a slow, torturous ache that he suspected would stretch to the end of his days. It was in equal parts terrifying and wonderful.

~*~

[elkieselkiewrites]

Blorbo Blursday 23/01

I'm just gonna have a ramble about Tupper WIP's Hob today. I have a lot of feelings about them so I'm gonna go ahead and spill the beans!

If you have any questions about Hob (or any of the other characters here) please do ask them, I am more than happy to spraff.

~*~

Hob is the character I think is most a reflection of me as a person. That doesn't make them easy to write, or even the character I connect with the most, but they are the character that I put most of myself into.

Tupper WIP is a Bildungsroman of sorts, so Hob starts out as a tween, the 7th child out of 12 (all daughters), and they are not particularly happy with their station in life. Hob is smart but undereducated, curious and willing to learn, but stubborn. They are getting to the age where they have become a drain on their family's resources, so they choose to try and get a job while staying with their eldest sister, Judd. However, Judd married above her station, and her husband is resentful of the reminder that his beautiful wife was once a goat farmer's daughter, so Hob is forced to try and make their own way.

This goes about as well as you'd imagine, and Hob ends up homeless for a while, until they are happened upon by Brother Meregrund, a Navildran monk who mistakes them for a boy, and invites them to join him at the monastery in Ryneminster. There, Hob becomes his assistant in the scriptorium. They learn to read and write, as well as how to repair manuscripts, prepare the parchment, mix the inks, etc. quickly becoming an invaluable member of the monastery.

From there Hob meets their (soon to be) best friend Eadwig, Eddy's sister and Hob's (soon to be) first love Merewyn, the grumbling sacrist Brother Hawley, Hawley's ward Kentigern, and a whole host of other characters.

I use they/them pronouns for Hob when talking about them outwith the text, but in the story itself I use "she" to start with, and from then on use "he" because that is who Hob is at those times in their life. However, they have a more complex relationship with gender.

There is a scene in the latter part of the novel where Kentigern has just confessed his feelings for Hob, and Hob has, in return, confessed that "he" is not a man, but when Kent expresses his surprise that "she" is a woman, they have a wee rant about exactly how and why that isn't true, and it's one that I tore straight out of my own experiences of gender identity:

"I'm not! A woman, that is. Though, sometimes I am, I suppose. I am happy to be a man, I feel content to be treated as such, and often feel an ache to truly fit in, to be in body what I know to be in my heart. Then again, there are glimmers of time when I feel strongly that I am a woman. In these moments I want nothing more than to dress and act and feel as a woman is expected to. But then, what does it mean to be a woman, and what does it mean to be a man? I know many a woman who exists in the garb of a man but still feels like a woman, and many men who dress and act as women are expected, and yet still feel strongly that they are men. In the Eastern Provinces what is expected of men and women is vastly different to here, and different again from the expectations of Western Reaches. Who is right, in that instance? For a man to be perfumed is nigh on sinful here, but for a Provincial man not to be perfumed is a veritable offence. Women in the Western Reaches are expected to fight and farm and forge, to contribute to society in every way that a man does otherwise they are not seen as pulling their weight. Women here must seem like vapid trinkets to them." Hob sighed. "Most of the time, Kent, I just want to be seen as me. Just Hob, without the trappings that come with being either woman or man. I do not wish to play the part of either one, only be criticised for embodying the other, when sometimes I feel as though I am both at once, and other times that I am neither."

Hob is the only one of my character explicitly genderqueer in a way that is not simply because they are a fantasy or sci-fi race that expresses biological sex and societal gender entirely differently to humans. I starting writing Tupper WIP back in 2018 when I was first exploring my own gender identity, and Hob as a character still contains so much of that exploration in their story even 7 years on.

[elkieselkiewrites]

Hap wbwb! I think you mentioned somewhere that the gods in Tupper's Tale have more presence/interfere in the world in ways, can we get more on that?

Yo thanks for the ask!

So, unlike in much of my work, Tupper WIP's world does have gods, the kind that interract with daily life the way that many mythologies suggest gods once did. However, they don't actually play that important a role in the story, except in that it takes place in a religious institution. But for worldbuilding purposes, I'll expound a little!

Essentially, the gods gain power via worship, so they want more people to worship them, but the kind of worship also has the ability to change them. So if enough people worship a god in a certain way, their belief has the ability to shape that god in the image of their faith.

For example, if a god prefers not to take a gendered form, but enough people worship them in a female form, the god becomes female. If a god of victory is worshipped enough during wartime, they become a god of war. If there is a schism in the worship of a god, it can sometimes create new gods.

Basically it's in the gods' best interests to not only get people to worship them, but also to get them to worship them in the way they want to be worshipped. This is best achieved through frequent interaction with the people.

An in-world example of this is the Ostron god Aratta. Aratta was originally just the lord of the seas and weather, but so often he was depicted in the shape of a sea eagle, in art and jewellry and heraldry, that he became an eagle. Also, because the Ostron people are seafaring people, he became their most important god, and as such, became more powerful, but also more paternal. He cares for the Ostron people fiercely, and has been known to fight other gods over their wellbeing.

Another example is Hob's monastic gods Ildra and Naviya, whose religion came from the north, where night and day are more stark, where day is blistering and night freezing, but in Aventir and further south, the days and nights vary in length throughout the year, and the worship of the gods of day and night had to change with that.

In Aventir, Naviya is a beautiful, bounteous goddess of goodness and light who tempers the dark of her husband Ildra whose night brings fear and uncertainty, but further north she is a harsher mistress, and it is she who needs to be tempered by her cool, calm husband who brings reprieve from her intensity. Navildran faith in the north favours blessings from Ildra and curses from Naviya, while Navildran faith in the south favours blessings from Naviya and curses from Ildra. Both instances are correct, as their own experiences of the world have shaped their worship, and their worship has in turn shaped their gods.

[elkieselkiewrites]

happy STS!! what's your OCs preferred method for holidays? are they travelling far or hiding at home rotting or hanging out with friends?

Happy STS! I'll answer for Tupper WIP characters because that's where my brain is at right now.

Hob is a beach bum. Give them a good book, some sand, and a bit of water to splash about in and they are more than happy. Beach volleyball? Yes. Slightly sandy 99 with two flakes? Yes. Snorkelling? Yes. Accidentally geting stung by jellyfish? Unfortunately also yes.

Eddy is also a beach bum, but will not go near that water. He wants to be dry and out of the sun, drinking something alcoholic under a parasol. This is the only time Eddy and Kent would be voluntarily in the same place, because the parasol is king.

Merry is a horrible hiking person. She wants to spend her holidays half way up a mountain with a rucksack full of fruit leather and mixed nuts. She wants to start the hike at the latest at 8am, she will absolutely hog the map, she will also drop the compass in a stream but don't worry she can tell direction by the sun, and she totally knows a short cut, you've got to believe her. Hob is often a reluctant hiking partner, and is always red-faced and out of breath half a mile behind Merry, who then has to double back to collect them. Hiking with Merry sucks.

Kent would happily spend all of his holidays at home. What do you mean he has the opportunity to spend multiple days in a row not interacting with strangers in any way? Of course he's taking that option. Unfortunately, Hob will drag him to the beach and he will enjoy a 99 with crappy strawberry sauce and won't complain that his hands are now too sticky to read the book he brought with him.

[elkieselkiewrites]

hey hap' blorbo blursday!! tell me about Kent pls!

Yay! I love to talk about Kent!

Kent's full name is Kentigern, sometimes Kentigern of Ryneminster (he hasn't got a surname because he was abandoned outside the monastery at Ryneminster as a baby). Brother Hawley, the sacristan and head librarian at Ryneminster, took him as his ward, and was as much a father to him as a teacher. Hawley was the one who named him Kentigern, after the old Abbot.

~ Worldbuilding aside: ghostwort is a blue flower with opioid effects, many people simply infuse their wine with the flowers for a low buzz, but it can be addictive, especially when the flowers are dried and crushed to be smoked in vast quantities. ~

Kent is what's known as a "ghost child", his mother was a ghostwort addict, and smoking while pregnant left her son with some telltale traits: prematurely grey hair, pale blue eyes (especially when not genetically predisposed to have them) overly pale skin, sensitivity to light and sound, intermittent tremors and ticks, amongst other things.

Because of this, Kent was often confined to the library as a child, which suited him just fine. There's very little about the library at Ryneminster that Kent doesn't know.

At the start of the story he's 17 (compared to Hob's 12) and though we see him a little at the start of the narrative, he is sent to the capital pretty early on to continue his studies at the Great Library of Gildhaven.

Kent is serious and studious, he can also be seen as pretty grumpy, but that's what you get from being brought up by Brother Hawley, a notorious grump. He intensely dislikes both Hob and Eddy when he first meets them, they're loud and like to break the rules, and don't seem to take their positions at the monastery seriously. However, when Hob and Eddy move to Gildhaven after the monastery burns down (RIP) Kent gets to see how far they've come since they were awkward tweens causing trouble for the monks, and grows to respect Hob's skills for what they are.

He still resents Eddy because while Kent came from less than advantageous beginnings, and had to learn everything from scratch, Eddy is the nephew of the King, and got handed everything to him on a silver platter. He had the luxury to be lazy and disinterested in his studies and duties, where Kent never did.

I love Hob and Kent for a number of reasons, but probably my favourite thing about them as a pair is how they are mirrors of the monks who adopted them. Kent was taken in by Brother Hawley who is serious and crotchety, while Hob was taken in by Brother Meregrund who is mellow, warm and kind. In turn Kent is the serious one and Hob is the friendly one, but both had each other's foster father in their lives, so have adopted pieces of them too. So we end up with Kent being more mellow than Hawley and Hob being more shrewd than Meregrund, which balances their personalities. Hawley and Meregrund loved one another (platonically? romantically? ambiguously?) but their story ended in tragedy, while Hob and Kent get to love one another in a way their foster fathers never did.

I could write so much more about Kent, especially Kent as a foil for Eddy, but I have to leave the house soon! Perhaps I'll add more to this later!

[elkieselkiewrites]

Another piece transferred from my other blog.

This is also from OC Kiss Week 2024, for the prompt "sunrise"

~*~

Brother Meregrund believed that dawn was the best time to collect herbs. They were still cold and fresh from the night air, but as the first rays of light began to reach their warm tendrils into the monastery's small garden, the began to release the their gentle fragrance, mingling with smell of the morning air. It made sense, then, that should one wish to find Brother Meregrund after Matins, his garden was the best place to look.

True enough, as Brother Hawley closed the creaking door behind him and stepped into the little courtyard, he could see the silhouette of Meregrund stooped in the middle of the herb beds, painted shades of blue in the pre-dawn light. Hawley did not announce himself, but Meregrund looked up at the sound of his footsteps, his kindly old face creasing in a well-worn smile.

'My dear Brother Hawley, what brings you out here so early? It is unlike you to miss Lauds, is everything quite right?'

Hawley cleared his throat. 'I found myself desiring your company.'

This appeared to amuse Meregrund as much as it surprised him, and he hummed thoughtfully, his smile wry. 'How very unlike you indeed.'

'Don't talk nonsense Meregrund.' Hawley groused. 'As though I do not seek out your company regularly.'

'Well, if it's my company you wish for, then you will have to help me gather these herbs before Lauds, there are half a dozen tinctures that I need young Hob to brew today and we haven't nearly enough in the store.'

Hawley eyed his wicker basket, half full already with small bundles of hearts-ease, mallow, lovage, houseleek, sage and guelder rose. Without complaint, he knelt beside Meregrund and began to collect the rosemary that grew in the closest bed, working together in companionable silence for a time.

'Will you speak of what troubles you, Hawley.' Meregrund said quietly at last.

'I fear I cannot,' Hawley replied. 'For if I start I may spill secrets no man should utter.'

Meregrund paused and placed a calloused hand over Hawley's own. 'We have known one another for forty years, there is no secret you could hold that would turn me from you.'

Hawley sucked in a trembling breath. 'You cannot promise that.'

He felt the hand atop his own tighten, and looked up to meet the ever-discerning gaze of his oldest friend. 'I can, my dear Hawley, and I shall. There is something burdening you, and it saddens me to see you so.'

The sky above them was turning lavender, a rosy blush as fair as any young maiden. 'I have so many regrets.'

'I am no confessor, my friend, but I would gladly share the weight of these with you, if you would tell me.'

Hawley's gaze roamed the dear face in front of him, drinking in every detail. Meregrund looked as he ever did, barely changed from when they had been barely out of boyhood, though now his nose and ears seemed to large for his thin face, and his eyes seemed smaller, no longer ale-brown, but pale as honey. His skin was wrinkled now too, seemingly stretching the gap of their ten years more than that, him in his garden skin sun-blessed while Hawley stayed sequestered in his library. Where his hair had once been russet, now even in the burnishing dawn it was silver, thin and wispy around his head like a halo. Oh how he longed to touch it.

'It is my greatest regret,' Hawley said, voice wavering. 'That I never told you how much I regard you. I love you, Meregrund, more so than the others, more so than the Saints.'

Meregrund's answering smile was kind but tired. 'You should not blaspheme for this wretched old man, Hawley.'

'Wretched? Naive, ridiculous, exasperating and easily distracted, perhaps, but wretched never.' He said fondly.

'You did not refute the blasphemy, my friend.' Meregrund replied shrewdly.

'It has been too long since the love of the Saints came even close to my love of you, Meregrund, I don't feel that I know what it is not to blaspheme with every breath.'

'What would you ask of me, then?' He said in reply, though when Hawley answered nothing, he shook his head. 'You would not be here with me if there were not something you wish to ask of me.'

'I wish-' Hawley began, but felt the words stick in his throat. 'I wish I had told you how much it meant, to spend even a moment of my day with you. I wish I could have held your hand as more than a friend.'

Meregrund breathed a sigh of understanding, his gaze ever kind and full of affection. 'What love did you not show me, hmm? We shared meals together, we prayed together, we slept often by one another's side. We shared joy and grief, we argued and reconciled, and enjoyed one another's company. We saw summer's splendour year after year, and warmed one another through many a winter. Do not value my great love for you as anything less than what it is simply because I chose to express it differently than you.'

Hawley felt bereft, a great valley of shame and grief cracked open inside of him. They had truly lived a life together more entangled and full of love than many a husband and wife, how cruel it was that he had not seen it as such until now.

'Please do not cry, my dear, dear Hawley.' Meregrund said softly and leant forward to bestow on him a single, chaste kiss.

His lips were dry with age, but warm and soft. Nothing fervent or wanting lay beneath their sharing of breath, it was as the Saints might bestow on their flock, but lingering in a way that belied a deeper feeling.

Hawley felt his eyes slide shut as he basked for that glorious moment, the golden light of the sun setting his sight ablaze behind his eyelids. Oh, a benediction the likes of which he had never known, searing through him as sure as lightning in a summer storm. A gentle death, for he was sure in this moment he was dying. No other rapture could be so exquisite.

He brought a shaking hand up to cup Meregrund's face, but as their lips parted it fell away into nothingness. He opened his eyes as the wash of pale sunlight illuminated the empty garden around him. No longer the blue and gold of a halcyon summer dawn. The herbs were long dead, charred to black stems and ashes, the wattle fences fallen and broken. There was a wicker basket upturned in the barren soil. All around was stillness.

He touched his lips reverently as tears fell unbidden down his weathered cheeks. Perhaps this was the one blessing he got, a single confession and its absolution.

He heard his name being called from the doorway, and rose from his place on the ground to see the rotund figure of young Hob stood in the archway where the physic garden door swung loosely on its hinges, surrounded by rubble, the only part of the wall still standing.

'Brother Hawley, what are you doing out here so early, you'll catch a chill.' He said, his round, boyish face somehow more mature when etched with concern.

'Saying goodbye.' He replied, voice small and husky. 'Just saying goodbye.'

[elkieselkiewrites]

blorbo blursday? Blorbo blursday. Merry and/or Eddy? They're royalty, right? How do they meet Hob n all?

Blorbo Blursday! Thank you!

So, when Hob joins the monastery at Ryneminster they meet Eadwig, young nephew of the King of Aventir, sent to the Church because that's what you do with younger sons. Brother Meregrund entrusts Hob to Eadwig's care, they share rooms, and although they don't exactly hit it off right from the start, they soon become close friends.

Eddy teaches Hob to read so that Meregrund can teach them to write, and they eventually both join the scriptorium together (though doing different jobs because Eddy is a posh boy who doesn't want to prepare the parchment, it's disgusting and smells bad. Hob's father was a goat farmer, they are not so squeamish) and get up to all sorts of misadventures there.

Merewyn is Eadwig's elder sister who comes to visit every now and again. At first she is there with her and Eddy's parents, then she starts to turn up of her own volition. Obviously at the ages they are at the start of the story, Eddy and Merry don't really get on super well. Sibling animosity between a younger teen and an older teen is just a bit catty, but it becomes more so when Hob and Merry start to develop feelings for one another, because "dammit Merry, Hob was my friend first!"

[elkieselkiewrites]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! In Tupper's Tale Hob joins a monastery - what religion? what is monastary life like? And, given Hob's gender situation, what is that religion's view on gender?

Happy STS! Thank you for the question, and sorry for the ramble...

So, Hob's monastery belongs to the Navildran faith, a bitheistic religion that worships Ildra and Naviya (whose names are only mentioned out loud by priests at High Holidays) and are otherwise referred to as Night Father and Dawn Mother respectively. Every dawn Naviya births the day and at dusk Ildra takes the day into his embrace as it dies and he carries it off to join the stars (there is more to it, but that's the broad strokes).

Monastic life is rhythmic, each monk has their own specific task, one that they were assigned as boys and will do for the rest of their lives. However there are also day-to-day tasks that need doing, which all the monks take turns to deal with. Hob was assigned to Brother Meregrund in the Scriptorium, so is charged with copying religious texts or illuminating texts already completed, but most of the time they are doing the grunt work for the monks who are already trained to do those things better than Hob. So, Hob spends a lot of their time preparing the animal skin for parchment, cutting it into sheets, arranging the quires, ruling drypoint, etc. but also spends a lot of time in the garden collecting ingredients for inks and the like.

There are, of course, daily prayers and regular holy festivals to observe, but Hob is surprisingly agnostic given the fact that they're a monk, and there are times in the story when Hob both gains and loses their faith. In the world of Tupper WIP the gods of the different religions are more active in their participation with the world, but that doesn't make everything their religions claim or dictate correct. Sometimes devout faith does bring with it boons, sometimes boons are bestowed upon people who have never prayed in their lives. Sometimes a person may belong to one religion and be blessed by the god of a different one, so Hob's attitude towards religion is less about disbelief in the gods, but rather a disbelief in the extent of their power or care.

With regards to Hob's gender, the story very much starts out as Hob, as a girl, pretending to be a boy in order to get a better life and education than they otherwise would have done. However, over time, we as the audience begin to follow Hob's journey to self-discovery with love and gender and faith all wrapped up in one.

Navildran religion has relatively strict binaries on the face of things: night and day, father and mother, life and death, but then the dawn and dusk, the birth and dying, the growing and ageing aspects of existence necessitated more nuanced intepretations throughout history. There were schisms in the Navildran church, some of which spawned entire new religions, with orthodoxy preaching dichotomy but the vast majority allowing debate and interpretation.

Hob's monastery is not an Orthodox Navildran one, but there are those in the monastery who still abide by more orthodox teachings, and they keep the monastery and convent, who pray in majority to Ildra and Naviya respectively, separate.

So if Hob were to be discovered as a "woman" they would likely be sent across to the convent to worship Naviya rather than being kicked out entirely, depending on the manner of their "outing", but as genderqueer they would not fit into the doctrine of this particular branch of Navildran religion.