#what makes a king

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Gríma Wormtongue Additional Tags: There will be additions to the relationships, Eowyn will get to have some fun, Multiple Pov, Manipulation, Psychological Torture, perhaps some physical torture, Saruman is being Saruman, Mind-fuckery, Canon-Typical Violence, Hate Sex, Enemies to Lovers, enemies to ??? to ??lovers??, Seidr, magic~~~, be wary of wizards for they are subtle and quick to anger, Saruman is everyone's favourite local Tower Top, (Eomer disagrees. He says Saruman is the worst and needs to leave Wyrm alone.), no horses are harmed in the making of this fic, you are allowed to become emotionally attached to Isthunn Series: Part 2 of The One Where Grima Lady Macbeths Eomer Into Kingship Summary:

Eomer and Grima are commencing on their risky deal where Grima agrees to play double-agent and spy on Saruman in return for some promise of future safety should Sauron lose. If Sauron and Saruman triumph, and his deception is not discovered, well, Grima is sitting pretty in a position of helping certain people if he feels they've earned it. He and Eomer also continue to mutually live in each other's brains rent free and they're very normal about one another.

Meanwhile, Eowyn decides that it is time to make her mark on world events and strikes out on her own, giving her brother a hundred heart-attacks in the meanwhile. (Don't worry about it, she tells Eomer, I'll be fine.)

Isengard means to attack, Gondor's defenses are weakening, and no one is ready for the war that lies ahead.

---- Obligatory Excerpt: 

Finally, Gríma gives in and speaks: ‘You know, according to legend, it has been achieved.’

‘What’s been achieved?’

‘Outmatching a Wizard.’

‘Right,’ Éomer nods. ‘That girl who ate him.’

Time now for Gríma to give Éomer a queer stare. ‘I’m not sure I know that version.’

Mischievous becomes the Third Marshal who smiles in the firelight. He says, ‘I heard that ending a few years ago, when I was up north in the Wold staying with Lord Framric. The girl thought to be friends with a Wizard, which was her first mistake—’

‘You and Greyhame are plenty friendly.’

Éomer casts a brief glower over to Gríma who takes the hint and hushes himself.

Skald!Eomer is a missed opportunity. Eomer should quit kingship/third marshalling and take up story telling. 

Eomer: friend with wizard, mistake number one. 

Grima: we don’t need your commentary. 

Eomer: tried to learn from wizard, mistake number two. 

Grima: this is very thinly veiled, Eomer. 

Eomer: betrayed country due to weird hard-on for wizard, mistake number three. 

Grima: that part is NOT in any version of this story. 

[hinamie]

10 years later

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

‘You waited before you sent for me,’ Éomer hisses. ‘You fucking sat on this. I could kill you—’ ‘I’ve no doubt, my lord, for you were ever the one with the martial prowess between the two of us.’ Gríma takes another step back. ‘But that wouldn’t be a wise move and I, personally, am not in the mood to die. Your sister is your sister, I have no control over her. She decided to fuck off into the great unknown for reasons I cannot fathom. You must have said something to her.' ‘What mean you?’ ‘You argued, yes? You always argue—’ ‘That is unfair. We are not always in argument.' ‘I beg to differ, but that isn’t the point. You provoked her.’ ‘Absolutely not! I would never provoke her.' Éomer snaps. ‘You’re always the one haunting her footsteps. You’re the one she dislikes and would not weep over if you were to fall off your perch tomorrow.’ Gríma glares. Dark eyes all heated and full of trembling fury. Oh, Éomer thinks, he has not seen Gríma this angry in years. This is a spitting-oil-in-a-fire angry. Gríma’s jaw clenches, works, he then paces a half circle before coming back to Éomer with hands on his hips as if he were a scolding fishwife. ‘Your sister could ruin things. You know that, right? The situation, at the moment, is balanced in a particular manner—’ ‘What?’ Éomer interrupts, scathing. ‘You've no contingency plan for Éowyn running away?’ ‘Hardly. Though, evidently that is an oversight on my part. I never thought she’d break her oath to your uncle, especially given her comments on the subject of oath breaking when it’s come up between us.’ Éomer heaves a sigh at the same time as Gríma.

From an upcoming chapter in What Makes a King.

Your honour, they're so utterly married and they don't even know it.

Meanwhile Eothain is just like, "Please stop arguing like you're about to enter divorce court and like...help us deal with Saruman or something."

Happy Wednesday, Fellowship! 💚

Writers, now is your chance to tackle one of those pesky WIPs sitting on your devices! Share with us a little snippet from your latest WIP! If you don't have anything to share yet, go add a few sentences to your story!

Readers, do you want to participate? Challenge yourself to reading an unfinished fic, and leave a comment, or send the author a kind ask about the story!

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[petrowriting]

the revelation that claudia’s rebirth was such a twisted and horrible moment, with louis dragging her like she was a thing, a stranger who neither of them knew but he kept saying over and over “our daughter, our beautiful little daughter” to lestat, really solidified the way she was never the main character of her own story. she was always an accessory to some or the other of louis’ whims: his guilt, his loneliness, his conflict of being a killer, his rocky relationship with lestat. there was love there, love from both her fathers, but it was never enough. lestat saw her too much as a wretched mirror held up to his own self, and louis was always too steeped in his own feelings to care enough about hers. claudia’s story truly was the greatest tragedy in this tale, treated horribly by every man around her, even her fathers, relentlessly exploited and brutally ignored, always second and never first. the only one who loved her the way she deserved to be loved was madeleine, and the moment she truly had her, her happiness was torn from her. and just before she died, she got to see someone actually choose her in her entirety, not for what she can be but for who she is, and it still wasn’t enough. she still burned alive in the sunlight. the love was there, but it wasn’t enough to save her.

[just-a-small-menace]

Charles Rowland comparing him and his "platonic best friend" to Orpheus and Eurydice 0.002 seconds before saying he's not in love with him is truly just the most out of pocket moment

Like sir what kind of denial are you on and can i have some

[enigmaris]

Ive written like 20k words for my two dpxdc ideas but of course my mind is giving more ideas:

Ghost King!Danny gets summoned one time by a cult and is like 'absolutely not'. He is already barely scraping by in highschool with all of his ghost fights, if he can be magically yoinked at any time he can kiss graduation goodbye.

He asks his ghost friends and one of them tells him he will need a human magic user to create a ward for him, since its human magic thats summoning him the protection should come from the same source.

Now where to find a magic user that can

1) make a protective ward for a half ghost/ half tired teen

2) will do that when Danny has about 3 dollars in his piggy bank

Danny through whatever means are the funniest discovers the soul tax evading John Constatine and has an idea!

A few days later John finds out his soul has been bought by the high king of the infinite realms, who last he checked, was a homocidal maniac.

This isnt going to end well.

[sassaffrassa]

It was a kiss between a man and his wife, and when it was over, the king closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the hollow of the queen’s shoulder, like a man seeking respite, like a man reaching home at the end of the day.

hi, i'm very cool and normal about these books, don't worry about me

on ao3 here

[officialmiintee]

wind breaker / kings, advisor, and top dog

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

working on a scene with Saruman (everyone's favourite Tower Top) and god he and Grima need to fuck (derogatory) (no, they don't).

get a room!

Eomer: I'm banning you from Orthanc.

Grima: that. goes against our plans.

Eomer: if you're sucking dick, it's mine, not that old man's.

Grima: but what if I want to fuck that old man???

Eomer: no.

[eaissilyy]

Unused crib.

I swear I am very normal about this. AU where Marika once cares but it's not enough and her priority lies elsewhere. Here's the inspiration I wrote in company time because my ass was not working.

She looked at her children and thought despite everything how could I still love you. Why was there a place in her numb heart for these two when they resembled everything she hated. She threw them into the pit below and tried not think about it. But how could she? When she looked at the empty space where the crib used to be and thought how can I forget them

(There's the second pic as a treat because ?? They don't exist? Marika has never had a twin with Godfrey? Godwyn is an only child? There might be a locked room in the Sanctuary where servants are not allowed to peak inside, the key is hidden and the room forgotten. But that's normal, isn't it? Every palace has a storage of abandoned things all the time. So what are you talking about? haha I am obviously NOT crying.)

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Neither teases are six sentences and both are from the same work: What Makes a King Pt 2: This Time with the Fellowship

‘I’ll send men to look for her [Éowyn],’ Éomer determines. ‘I wish them joy in bringing her back if she should not desire to return.’ Gríma tilts his head. Éomer has taken to pacing, shooting dark glances at Gríma every so often. ‘What? You know something.’ ‘She overheard us—’ ‘When?’ Éomer shakes his head, no, no, no, Gríma need not worry. Nothing of their poor life choices, as it concerns one another, was witnessed. ‘She heard us in the stables the other night, when we were discussing the ring, and she confronted me—’ ‘You told her,’ pure accusation. ‘She heard enough that denial seemed fruitless,’ Éomer snaps. He rounds, again, on Gríma, pushing him back towards the wall—which also keeps them out of the line of site of servants. Éomer’s hand, flat on Gríma’s chest, could be a brand. The world becomes heated though it be mid-October. ‘She’s gone north to Rivendell, I’m certain of it.’ Gods preserve Gríma from the House of Eorl and their turbulent decision-making tendencies.

Grima, you can't talk when it comes to judging others for their turbulent decision making tendencies Mr. I've Backstabbed Everyone In My Life At Least Once

From her uncle’s sick room Éowyn departs and enters the present where she is upon her beloved Windfola and beside her is Hamsa who is riding out on Oslaf, a handsome bay and very opinionated. It is an open-sky sort of day that makes Éowyn want to runrunrun into the wild and strip her body from her body and bury herself into the marrow of the earth. It is these days that make her wonder what it is she is doing. It is these days that lead to her stripping naked at night to hold a breast in one hand and weigh it as if it were a sack of prize flour. Then the other. Then she will look down at them and the roundness of her stomach with its fat and its softness, the broad, expanding width of her hips and sturdiness of her thighs, the wiry hair between her legs, and think that this is all terribly strange. Who gave her this and what could they have meant by such a decision? She and her brother are built the same: strong as an ox, sturdy as an oak, and unforgiving as a cliff-face. Then, yes, the gold hair and such. Everyone fixates on his copper fire to her silvering ice and see not that there is fire in her, too. But blue, white-hot, and growing. The piercing centre of a flame.

Eowyn-Dernhelm my beloved

Happy Sunday, Fellowship! 💜

Writers, now is your chance to tease one of your works! Share with us (approximately) six sentences on the story you're working on. If you don't have anything to share just yet, go add six sentences to your current WIP!

Readers, do you want to participate? Challenge yourself to leaving a 6 sentence comment on a fanfic, or even one of the six sentence snippets shared by your favorite writers!

[merrigel]

I want it back = I drag its dead weight forward

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[frenchonionsoop]

bsd sketches after 1 millions years.......