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Verily, Edith would have hoped for a bit of reprimand from     her mother rather than words of agreement,  defensive as     she was where any of her children were concerned. The     girl received that reaction gladly–sitting next to Cersei as     she’d beckoned her. The words that left her mouth had the     sound of resignation, after many years of feeling the same     as Edith did now. It saddened her somewhat, but also gave     her an unmistakable feeling of connection–something that     was quite unique between mother and daughter, and it was     feminine, though she couldn’t explain why, but inwardly she     knew it to be beyond the grasp of fathers and sons.

                       “But laws CHANGE, don’t they?”    

      It’s not like she was suggesting something–though quite       conscious of her notions of idealistic,  Edith knew  better       than to deny the kind of world she lived in, though for one       brief moment, she liked to share her imagination with her       mother.

                           “Imagine, though, mother: A woman, such as                         yourself, for instance.  You brought up children,                         four of them, in a way that father was incapable                         of. A woman who gives life, how can she not be                         fit to rule a kingdom… Or even seven of them,                         instead of a man who takes lives in battles?”

             “And, if the law were to change one day,           so that I would be the rightful heir instead           of Joffrey, and my daughters after myself,           I’d see no reasons why women should not           be warriors, either.”

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una paloma y un halcón

Living in London had its ups and downs, but Paloma was happy living there, most of the time. Every now and then, she felt nostalgic and a bit melancholic whenever she thought of Barcelona. But when the big picture of her life back there came to mind, she realized that this sudden change of country had been for the best. In Spain, she had more freedom to go out with friends at night and have a bit of fun at least three times a week, while in England she didn't know anyone, or at least anyone that wasn't part of her family.

Besides, her night outs had been getting quite frequent, and it would constantly worrying her that she wasn't doing a good job raising her 3 year old daughter, Isabel, being out most of the nights while her mother stayed over to put the little girl to bed. London had a new air, and it seemed to bring her a new sense of responsibility. Isabel was learning English quite fast, and it seemed that she had no difficulties at all when interacting with other children at school. The unhealthy relationships she'd had were kept in Spain, and that distance turned her into a different, and much better person. 

Currently, Paloma and Isabel were living with her grandfather, David - it amused Paloma that his neighbors pronounced the last d in his name, when she was so used to calling him Daví. - the main reason why they moved, after all, was that his health was not going well, and loving her abuelito so much as she did, Paloma was the first to volunteer, as her grandmother was gone now, for over 10 years.

And it added to her happiness that he seemed to be getting better. His coughing hadn't ceased, but at least it had diminished quite a lot. 

Paloma was washing the dishes, whistling casually, after having served a snack to her grandfather, when a knock on the door distracted her. Earlier in that day, he'd mentioned that they might get a visit, but Paloma was a little distressed that Isabel was late for school and ended up not paying attention and soon forgetting it.

Removing the gloves and apron she was using, Paloma rushed to the door, expecting to see an aunt, or something like that. And although the face on the other side of it was not unfamiliar, it was still quite a surprise.

"Hey! I remember you!" she smiled, "Wow. It's been a long time. I didn't know you were coming to visit grandpa!"

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"Mister," she began, her eyes lifting from the book she had between her hands to watch his face, eyes narrowed with some kind of annoyance. "I am new, I am not stupid. I know my surroundings and I know my work. That being said, libraries here, and anywhere in the world, have a silence rule." Although she was whispering, Paloma made sure to enforce that one word as if to make him stop his laughter. 

"And you must fill in a form if you want to take a book. I don't care if you're a native or been here longer than I do. Mind you, I may be smaller than you, but if you are going to insist on giving me trouble on my first week, I would be happy to kick your white lil ass on your way out."

Falken og Duen

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"Oh, what a pity". she commented, sarcastically as he complained about her behavior. One of her eyebrows lifted - no much more response than that came from Paloma. In the meantime, she picked some gum out of her pocket and began to chew it, blowing it into a bubble then popping it annoyingly. 

"That’s nice, kid. Now tell me, is it not barbarian to drunkenly walk into a public library smelling like beer and cigarettes and refusing to follow the highly-difficult standard procedure which is to sign your name?" With a glare, Paloma watched the man’s face for about five seconds, before returning her gaze elsewhere. "Then wow. What a huge culture shock!"

Falken og Duen

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Although his words irritated her on the inside, on the outside Paloma kept her indifferent face, a purposeful look of boredom on her expression as he continued. Looking him over, she noticed that he seemed to be a few years younger than she was -- and considering that men took more time to mature, that explained his behavior quite well, she believed.

"That's lovely, kid. Now fill in your form." she scoffed, tossing the papers and a pen next to the nearest unoccupied table, next to him. "I'm giving you 20 minutes. Don't make me call security to get you kicked out." 

With that, she left the section corridor, heading back to her peaceful desk, watching the clock briefly to count the minutes before going back to reading.

Falken og Duen

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Ah, if that was this stranger's idea of some kind of a joke, Paloma was nowhere willing to let it lie like this. Before she could follow him, though, she went back to her desk and picked a handful of forms - all unfulfilled and looking the same. 

"Mister, perhaps I wasn't being clear enough," she said after finding him again. "But you either fill one of those in, or leave. And if you decide for the second one, you better get on your way before I call security."

Falken og Duen

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Getting a job at the local library was probably the best thing that had happened to Paloma since she had moved. Not that it was her dream job - she didn't really have any. And the wage was not too generous either. Still, it provided her to have a very pleasant routine, as basically she would get to spend all day reading books for free and telling people to shut up, when necessary.

Of course, when her eyes became tired from watching so many letters forming words, Paloma's best friend became a pair of earphones that kept her company. Sometimes, one or two people would complain that the sound of the music that came from it was too loud that they could hear it from their tables -- as the place was always in absolute silence. 

And that had just happened five minutes ago, when a teenage girl came over to complain to her. Like the extreme professional person that she was, Paloma just closed her eyes, pretending she couldn't notice the other girl's presence, until she gave up. Very mature, indeed. 

The minutes passed, and as her sense of hearing was blocked by the loud music, she smelled something odd. Well, not unfamiliar, but odd, considering the surroundings. It seemed that the mingled smell of cigarettes and alcohol had taken over the place, which caught her attention as she turned off the music to search for the source of it.

"Hey," she shouted at the stranger that was somewhat drunkenly stumbling amidst the book sections, her spanish accent already quite evident before she even formed a sentence. "If you want to take a book, you need to fill a form, firstly."

Falken og Duen

Dominik took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling the swirling, endless smoke into the air above him. After only a couple of pints on his lunch break, he found himself a bit too drunk to comfortably judge whether or not he could ride his motorcycle back home, and resigned to walking about the market district until his buzz had effectively worn off.

It was late spring, summer soon following on its heels, and a clear day, warm and full of sun. There were many busy people out on the streets, walking quickly with little regard for the man who stood amongst them, slowly wandering hither and thither, flicking ashes mindlessly onto the concrete. 

He passed in front of the library several times within an hour, debating whether or not he could bother going in, knowing very well that he would get himself stuck if he took the time to browse. After much deliberation, he entered the oddly placed doors into the square, silent building.

The library of Hammerfest had many windows, allowing perfect light for reading during the daytime. Dominik crossed the floor to where he remembered the section for mechanics had been located, but found himself standing amidst shelves of bibles and folklore. For a while he went from end to end, glancing at the letters and numbers at the end of each row, each time more annoyed by the obvious disorganization in which the library had fell into. 

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Just a warning that this is a sideblog. Main is impattieboyd. I can't follow back here, nor send asks.

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