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capricorn-0mnikorn · 8 months

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In the spirit of "Reblog Your Own Work," here's a story I wrote almost two years ago, that I'm really proud of. I originally posted it in 5 parts, so to shake things up a bit, here it is all in 1 part. It's a retelling of the Grimm Brothers fairy tale "The Frog King," this time with aroace and disability representation, and the squicky elements of child marriage taken out.

Under the Linden Tree

Once upon a time, there lived a king who was widowed, and remarried. His first wife had been a true princess of a wealthy kingdom, and the daughters they had together, Zephyra and Aurora, were as lovely as a summer breeze and the dawn. His living wife had only became queen through marriage to him. But she was exceedingly lovely, and gracious, and kind. And because she was the only daughter in a house full of sons, the king thought surely she would deliver him a son of her own. Instead, he got a third daughter, whom they named Galantha.

As she grew, Galantha became even more beautiful and gracious, until, as she approached womanhood, she began to outshine even her mother. Her elder sisters, once happy playmates, now teased her, and reminded her, whenever they had the chance, that her lineage would never be as great as theirs, and that she was last in line to be married, and most likely to a baron, if not a common paddler.

Galantha would sigh, and say she knew this. She would also turn away and hide her smile. She had little interest in being wooed. And being the mother of a future king just seemed like an extra weight upon her head that she would rather do without.

But Fate and Nature had little care for her secret desires. Every day, she could feel the eyes of the courtiers watching her. Their murmurs of praise for her beauty and grace seemed like the constant drone of crickets in her ears. On festival days and market days, minstrels could be heard singing songs about how the sun, itself, was jealous of her beauty.

Whenever she could, Galantha escaped to her favorite place in the royal forest, where the Tree of Oaths stood: a linden tree with a trunk wider than the span of her arms, with leaves broader than her palm, and a well between the fork of its roots, formed from a thousand years of rain and dew dripping from the leaves above. According to the law, it was forbidden to tell a lie within its shade; according to legend, it was impossible. Its crown had spread wide enough to preside over murderers' trials, and lovers' weddings, since this kingdom had been the size of a village. And these were recorded with carvings in its bark, some so old that even the alphabets they were written in had been forgotten.

She would spend whole days here, tossing and juggling her golden ball (her favorite plaything), entranced by how it glinted in the dim light.

But the king started grumbling that she was neglecting her royal duties, that she was growing too old to spend her days amusing herself with a mere child's plaything.

Her mother would lay her fingertips on his arm, smile in that way she had, and, almost imperceptibly, shake her head.

Then, the king would sigh, and say that he would permit her private walks, for now. But soon, she'd have to grow up, and perform her duties for the court.

It was after one such scolding, when Galantha distracted by worries, that the ball slipped from her fingers. It sank into the well before her cry of dismay had escaped her lips.

She sat mourning her loss, and wondering if her father would ever let her go out into the forest alone again, when the biggest frog she'd ever seen popped its head out of the water.

"What would you grant me," the frog asked, in a perfectly clear human voice, "if I returned your golden ball?"

Galantha stammered a few syllables before she regained her composure. "Forgive me," she said, practicing her diplomacy as her father never imagined, "but you must understand how it would me unwise of me to negotiate with a complete stranger."

The frog blinked in the slow, deliberate, way that frogs had, and the princess took that as acknowledgment.

"Three questions, then," she said, "I think is fair."

The frog blinked again.

"First question: Are you a frog enchanted with the gift of human speech," she asked, "or are you a man trapped in the form of a frog?"

The frog responded with a long, rolling, croak. And then, as if startled by the sound of his own voice, disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

The princess sighed. Maybe it was true that the frog could not lie to her, here, but neither the legends nor the law said anything about answering her in her own language. When the surface of the water stilled, and the frog had not yet returned, she thought the interview over, and started for home.

She had not gone three steps, however, when she heard a small croak from behind her, sounding, for all the world, like an embarrassed cough.

So—a man, she thought.

She smoothed the smile off her expression and returned to the well's edge.

"Second question: is this form one of your own choosing?"

"No."

"Final question: Was this form imposed upon you as punishment for a crime, or the breaking of an oath?"

The frog (or rather, man) was silent. She was nearly ready to take that as a refusal to answer, and to walk away, without his help.

But then, the frog took a deep breath, and let out an uncertain "No." Then sighed wearily, in a way that was unmistakably human.

She smiled. "All right, then," she said, "I accept your offer. I will grant you anything you wish that's mine to give, short of my body, or my will."

"Then my wish is to pass between the walls where you have tread," he said.

She was taken aback. "That's all?"

"That is all I ask from you, Your Highness," the frog replied.

She nodded. "That price is certainly a fair one," she answered. "And I'll grant it freely, once you return with my treasure."

The frog disappeared below the water.

The surface grew still.

There was no sign that any living thing moved beneath. Her gold ball was heavy, she thought, and even very large frogs must have limited strength. So, with a sigh, she started the long walk home.

But soon, there was a "plip, plop, plip" on the path behind her. She turned around. The frog hopped after her, carrying her treasure in his mouth.

She gasped, and managed to not to laugh.

The frog dropped the ball at her feet. "You promised."

Galantha admitted that she had, and thanked him. As she lowered herself to pick him up, she was nearly overcome by a horrid feeling, as if her body, itself, were recoiling in disgust.

It took all her strength to resist hurling the frog to the ground. Still, Galantha strode home with the frog under her arm and the golden ball in her hand. She passed through the gate of her palace courtyard with her chin held high, barely acknowledging the guards.

And at that moment, the strange sensation of disgust faded so much, she hardly noticed it. She made her way to the throne room with a light and playful step.

Her sisters squealed in harmony at the sight of the frog, and hid behind their thrones. Her mother gasped, and looked a bit ill (and for that, Galantha was sorry). Her father was the angriest, rising from his throne, red in the face, and signaling for his guards. He had just opened his mouth to give his orders, when the frog addressed him in the most courteous and proper royal etiquette.

Galantha then broke her family's astonished silence by recalling, in the most flowery language she could imagine, how this wondrous frog had swum to the bottom of that unfathomed well, and retrieved her precious family heirloom, the golden ball.

"All he asked, in return," she concluded, "was to pass between the walls where I have tread. It seemed a small price to pay."

Upon hearing that, the king agreed. He insisted on leading a tour of the palace himself, with his wife and daughters behind in a small parade. He repeated the story the princess had told to each courtier they met, saying that, as a courteous and generous monarch, it was his duty to ensure that the just payment was given to even the lowliest of his subjects, even those as lowly as an ugly frog.

The frog-man under her arm, if he were able to show expression, was very good at keeping his opinion to himself. For her own part, Galantha struggled to hide her embarrassment.

The tour ended in the kitchen, and the king was making a show of his magnanimity toward the servants, sniffing all the dishes as they roasted and bubbled away.

As if struck by a sudden thought, he turned to the frog tucked under the princess's arm, and said, with a grand sweep of his arm: "It would be a great honor to me, Sir Frog, if you would stay, and be my daughter's special guest at dinner, tonight."

Her two elder sisters, bringing up the rear of their little parade, giggled behind their hands.

The frog shifted his weight under her arm and opened his mouth as if to speak. But in the end, said nothing.

Galantha was ready to object on his behalf, and her own. But her father looked her in the eye with a frown, daring her to disobey his wishes a second time that day.

She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Yes. Of course it would be my honor. Please, be my guest."

No sooner were those words out of her mouth than the strange, horrid, feeling strengthened once more, spreading from the frog like ink from a tipped bottle. She fought to keep from hurling him to the floor that very instant.

At dinner, an extra golden chair was put to Galantha's right, and on it was placed a fine silk cushion. The princess set the frog on the cushion as graciously as she could, and then she took a portion of each food on her plate, put it in a fine china saucer, and set the saucer on the cushion beside her guest.

But the frog objected: "That well was very deep and cold," he said, "and that golden ball was so heavy. If it weren't for me, your treasure would be lost forever. I should sit beside you, and eat from your own plate."

The princess was about to object that this was more than she had promised him.

But before she could say anything, her father the king replied: "Quite right. Quite right. A princess must always be a generous hostess."

So Galantha lifted the frog from the chair to the table, while Zephyra and Aurora squirmed and made faces.

In between bites, the frog and the king discussed political matters, and the state of diplomacy between the various neighboring kingdoms.

Galantha's mind raced, trying to figure out who this might be. She tried to change the subject, but her father was thoroughly charmed. The queen, when she caught her daughter's eye, smiled and shook her head in the same disapproving manner that she had with the king, and Galantha found that, she, too, could not resist her mother's wishes.

As the evening's chatter melted into yawns, the king said that since it was now dark, and it was a long way to the forest, their guest should spend the night.

Galantha agreed. and picked the frog up into the crook of her arm, preparing to carry her guest to the fountain the center of the royal courtyard, where he would be comfortable in the cool and damp.

But instead, the king said: "Of course, as my daughter's honored guest, you are welcome to sleep in her chambers."

So she was obligated to carry the frog up to her rooms. With every step, the strange feeling in her body intensified. Still, she walked to her rooms with as much courtesy as she could muster, filled the basin on the washstand with fresh water for the frog, and set him down.

"Please look away," she said, "as I change for bed."

The frog dipped his head, and quietly crawled behind the mirror.

Just as she about to slip under her covers, the frog came out from behind the mirror, and called out to her. "Is this any way to treat an honored guest?" he demanded. "To give your guest a cold, hard place to sleep, and keep the feather bed for yourself? I should like to lie in your bed, and be as warm as you are."

And with that, the princess's last bit of patience finally snapped. "If you want my bed, Sir Frog," she said, "you shall have it!" She picked him up in both hands, and, giving in to every shiver of revulsion, hurled him against the wall.

What happened next was such a shock, she spun on her heel as though pulling her hand from a fire: a full-grown man in her bed, alive, perfect as an artist's ideal, and naked as a frog.

"You're a prince?"

"I was a king, once."

She hugged herself, willing her heart to slow. "And the spell is broken now?"

He did not answer 'Yes.'

"I must," he said at last, "receive recompense for service rendered to a human, pass between walls where a human has trod, share a meal off a human's dish, and--" he took a breath, "share a human's bed from midnight 'til first cock's crow."

As if to punctuate his point, the hall clock chimed the eleventh hour's last quarter.

"You were afraid I'd say no, I suppose," she said, "if you'd told me this, when first I asked."

"I asked for everything I wanted from you."

"And I must only 'share' the bed?"

"Only that."

"Even so, you understand: Because of my station, this will count as a betrothal between us?"

The bed creaked as he shifted his weight. "Yes," he said, finally.

"And if I gave you the bed outright, and slept on the floor?"

She heard a catch in his breath that sent a shiver down her spine. "Please," he said.

"All right, then. Keep your face to the wall and your hands to yourself, or we will find out what happens."

When she was certain that he was faced toward the wall, under the covers, she lay down over them. She could feel him at her back, that strange, horrid feeling still there, though fainter, now, like the heat from a single candle. At some point, she must have fallen asleep, because she had the distinct sensation of waking up before the sun.

When, at last, she was released by the sound of the cock's crow, she rose quietly, careful not to wake the man sleeping behind her, and washed her face and hands.

The cock crowed a second time.

There was a silent flash of light in the corner of her eye. Glancing up, she saw a full set of clothes laid out across the dowry chest at the foot of her bed. The coat was of red velvet, with gold buttons, and there was a broad purple sash, embroidered with heraldric designs she did not recognize.

The princess stepped into the foyer of her bedchamber to dress in private.

At least it looked like a king's outfit, she thought, even though the stranger in her bed seemed far too young. But some, she reminded herself, inherit their throne before they're old enough to pull up their own stockings.

The cock crowed a third time.

She heard him yawn, the bed creak as he rose, and the unfamiliar rhythm of his bare feet on the floor.

She brushed and braided her hair as she listened to the rustling of cloth as he dressed himself.

When she heard that his boots were on, she took a deep breath, counted slowly to five, and stepped back into the main apartment of her chambers.

She'd prepared herself, but seeing him was still a shock. She looked away almost as quickly as she had the night before, and dropped into a curtsy. "Good morning, Your Majesty," she said, feeling the blush spread across her cheeks. "Please forgive me, for--"

His chuckle cut her off, and she glanced up. A smile spread from the corner of his eye to his lips.

"Forgive thee?" The smile faded, but his expression remained soft. "I should thank thee, instead." He looked down at his hands and flexed his fingers. "Thou saved my life."

"I-- what?"

"Though it feels odd, having so much bone, again," he said, instead of answering her directly, running one hand down his side, over his ribs. "Did I hear correctly, last night," he asked, changing the subject, "that thy name is 'Galantha?'"

"Indeed, Your Majesty," she said.

His brows knitted for a split second. "'Milk Flower?' 'Snowdrop?' Princess Snowdrop?" He seemed on the verge of laughing, but managed to swallow it down.

"That would have been Sire's choice," she answered, "but my mother overruled him, Your Majesty."

He cocked his head to one side. "Please. Don't let me have the advantage of thee. I am named 'Cinnabar'."

She studied his face. There was nothing about him that suggested the fiery hues of that dangerous stone. His complexion was as pale as someone who had spent years in the shadows. His eyes were the dark brown of late summer honey. And his hair was so black, like a raven's feathers, that it glinted blue.

"Cinnabar?" she repeated.

He chuckled, and seemed to be about to say something more, when there was a light, familiar, rap on her chamber door.

"Come in, Margarete," she said, without thinking.

Her lady-in-waiting opened the door and poked her head around. "Good morning, Your Highness--" Her eyebrows rose barely a hair, and she (almost invisibly) mouthed: "frog?"

The princess bit her lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity. "Good morning, Margarete. Is breakfast ready?"

"Yes, Your Highness. His Majesty waits on you." She curtsied quickly and backed out the door.

The young king tugged at his sash, smoothing wrinkles that weren't there. "Well," he said, "they're expecting us, though probably not like this." He offered her his arm.

After a moment's hesitation, she took it.

She could sense the servants watching them, in the well-practiced way of not seeming to watch them at all. Halfway to the stairs, Lady Caroline, who had once been her nursery maid, caught Galantha's eye as she passed in the hallway, and smiled softly.

He ended up leaning more on her, on the way down the stairs, than she on him, testing his weight with each step, but managed to hide his uncertainty as they entered the banquet hall.

Her father was standing at the head of the table, red-faced, with clenched fists. He glared at the richly dressed stranger, then at her.

"So, it's true!?" he said, "I wasn't imagining the whispering of servants!"

"Your Majesty," the queen said, laying her fingers on his arm, her voice light, and clear, and cold, as a silver bell, "remember your royal duty to invited guests."

"Invited? Invite-- guests?!"

Cinnabar bowed. "Good morning, Your Majesty," he said. "I hope you had a restful sleep."

Her father sputtered. "I know that voice!"

"I am honored you remember it. And may I say what a pleasure it was to be a guest on your table, last night."

"On? 'On my table'? That thing? Thou!?"

"Yes. That was I."

The king huffed, and, with a sweep of his arm, gestured at the sash that the young king wore. "This bunting and glitter-- are they true emblems of royal office, or are they some player's costume?"

"This sash, along with my scepter, and crown," Cinnabar said, his voice quiet but tense, "is, indeed, an emblem of royal duty and privilege, bestowed upon me according to the laws of my homeland."

The king turned his gaze on Galantha. "And am I to take it, then, that there must now be a wedding?"

She bowed her head. "Yes, Sire."

It wasn't until then that he seemed to notice all his guests waiting for him. He nodded and sat, and signaled for others to join him, adding: "I suppose we'll need another chair."

The young king smiled and nodded at the servant who brought it, as if he had been welcomed to the table with the same generosity as the night before.

Zephyra leaned over and murmured in her ear: "I wish thee the best, truly," she said, with a catch in her voice. "We had some happy times, didn't we?"

Galantha nodded and smiled as best she could through the flurry of quiet congratulations.

She was just beginning to relax when a servant set a large, sweetened, bread between herself and her betrothed, with the knife placed on his side of the platter. It was gilded with a glaze of egg wash and saffron, decorated with a pattern of sliced, toasted almonds, and perfectly sculpted into the shape of a frog, bulbous eyes and all.

He coughed and looked around at the faces of those seated near him.

"Oh, dear!" Aurora said, giggling, and then quickly added: "It's nothing personal, Your Majesty. This is a custom in our country, for good luck, and a fruitful marriage. Even the common people do this, though not so richly."

Galantha wanted to bury her face in her hands. Instead, she nodded. "I didn't think there was time to make one for us."

He laughed. "Oh. All's well, then," he said. He picked up the knife and studied the frog a moment, before slicing it down the middle, from nose to rump, revealing the stuffing of dried fruit, nuts, and candied citron.

Turning the platter so that both halves were equally within her reach, he waited for Galantha to make her choice.

She tried not to think how things might have gone differently, last night, as she put her half on the plate before her.

The young king smiled. He popped the eye from his half of the frog into his mouth, and chuckled.

The elder king was silent and frowning throughout the meal, which was consumed and cleared away with all the haste of a picnic interrupted by rolls of thunder.

Galantha was only granted enough time to change into the gown that had been set aside for her marriage ceremony. And her only wedding gift was a wallet of sewing and spinning tools, along with her mother's blessing bound up in it.

The phrase "Husband and wife" was barely out of the priest's mouth when they heard the rattle and clatter of a carriage outside.

Her new husband nearly sprinted through the chapel door as the carriage slowed to a stop.

It was one of the finest Galantha had ever seen, with gilded eagles on the finials of the top, and scroll work of inlaid gems in twisting, vine-like patterns along the side. The six horses pulling the carriage had silver bells in their bridles, though they, themselves, were the sturdy, piebald, sort that Galantha had seen pulling farmers' plows, rather than the parade horses in whom elegant coat color was prized.

And it was also odd, she thought, that with a carriage so richly appointed, that there was only the coachman as servant-- that there were no footmen attending, to help keep the carriage steady on the highway, to watch out for ruts, or remove obstacles in the road ahead. And she also noted that the gold braiding on the coachman's livery was just a bit frayed, and there were spots in the sleeves of his coat that had been expertly darned, with evident care. But what sort of kingdom was she marrying into, if so much wealth was put into things, but not people?

The coachman alighted, and was in the act of dropping to one knee to honor his master when the young king interrupted him, and pulled him up into an embrace.

"Heinrich? Heinrich!" he exclaimed. "My good man-- it- it's been too long."

Heinrich pulled away-- a little too quickly, Galantha thought. But he was still smiling, and there were tears on his ruddy, weathered, cheeks, dampening the neat white beard on his chin.

He sniffled, still smiling, and squaring his shoulders, turned and bowed to her. "Your Majesty," he said. And he offered his hand to help her up into the carriage.

"Please, Sir," she said, "before we go, there's someone--some place--I need to say 'goodbye' to."

The coachman's mouth tightened into a thin line, and his brow furrowed.

Galantha feared he would refuse.

But her husband spoke up. "I know the place," he said. "It's not far. I'll go with her, and make sure she won't get lost."

The coachman hesitated for just a moment, but then, with a quick bow of his head, said: "Very well, Your Majesty. As you wish."

And with that, her new husband laced his fingers firmly with hers, and strode off toward the path leading to the linden tree. Galantha had to walk in double step to keep up.

As soon as they turned a corner, and his golden carriage was no longer in sight, however, he let go of her hand. He leaned close. "This way, he won't leave without thee," he said.

"Would he do that?" Galantha asked. For a fleeting moment, she imagined running away, but just as quickly dismissed the idea.

"Heinrich's… Something's…" He sighed. "I'm sure he's just eager to get me home."

The path narrowed. He stepped back to walk a few strides behind her, giving her some privacy, but also driving her forward, not giving her a chance to tarry.

He stopped at the edge of the linden tree's canopy, while she walked up to its trunk alone, patting it as though it were a dear friend's shoulder. Then, on an impulse, she took a penknife from her pocket, and carved a 'G' and 'C', back-to-back, into the its bark, along with the date, to join all the ancient inscriptions recorded there.

Then, she cut one of the slender, leafy, branches to take with her. She just could not bear to leave this old friend behind entirely. She dipped her kerchief into the well, and wrapped the wet cloth around the cut end of the branch. Then she hurried back to meet her new husband.

He fairly pulled he along the whole way back, only slowing down as the path widened, to allow her to come up beside him, before quickening his stride again.

No sooner were they back in the carriage than the coachman cracked his whip, and they sped off at an almost unnatural speed, the horses in full gallop before they even had taken three strides at a trot. The landscape outside the windows was nothing but a blur.

"Heinrich!" the young king called, "Must thou drive with such haste?"

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," his servant called back. "But if we do not pass through the Capital's gate by sunset, all is lost."

Galantha looked down at the linden branch and bit her lip. How much had she risked, she wondered, for a mere sentimental token that wouldn't even last the week?

"We did not tarry long," her husband said, above the noises of the carriage. "All's well. All will be well." He put his fingers lightly on her arm to draw her attention, and managed a weak smile. "Heinrich is one of the most sensible men I've known. If he really thought our errand would waste too much time, he wouldn't have let us go."

Still, he seemed as full of worry as she.

"The spell?"

"It's broken. But not all trouble is magic."

Nothing more was said between them. After a while, Galantha realized he'd fallen asleep.

Suddenly weary, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Memories slipped into nightmare. She was both juggling her golden ball, and trapped inside it: up and down, and back and forth, until she was falling without end, into an icy darkness.

Galantha woke with a start, and for a moment, she feared they'd missed the sunset, before realizing they were driving through a forest, trees on either side blocking out the sun.

He was awake, too, staring out the window.

"May I ask you something, Your Majesty?"

"Please, don't let rank stand between us; call me 'Cinnabar'. Interview, or conversation?" he asked.

"Both, I think."

He gestured toward the linden branch and opened his hand. When she passed it to him, he nodded for her to continue.

"Who cursed you?" she asked.

He sighed. "I don't know if anyone did. Thou asked if it were a punishment for a crime, or broken oath. Until I heard 'no' in my own voice, I'd long wondered the same thing." He seemed about to say more, but just grimaced, as if the thought smelled of something noxious.

"How long?" she asked, after a moment.

"I see no change in my own face. But Heinrich's--. We were—he was my assigned playmate, as a boy."

Galantha pushed down the thought that this made him nearly as old as her father, along with wondering if that mattered. "If no one told you," she asked, instead, "how did you know what would break the spell?"

He shrugged, winced, and rolled his shoulders. "The same way I know to scratch an itch, perhaps. I never thought it could be broken, until thou came to the well. I truly thought passing between the walls where you had walked would be enough."

"But then it wasn't."

"Then it wasn't, nor was the meal."

"And if Father hadn't invited you to dinner?"

"Well, there were so many others I could have asked, once I was inside."

"Whom?"

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Enough!" Annoyance rang through his voice. "We're puzzling over troubles that never came to pass."

"I'm sorry, Your M--"

"Eh?"

"Cinnabar. Forgive me."

"For this? Easily."

Galantha turned and watched the landscape roll past. The sun was high, now, and there were almost no shadows on the ground. The forest was already thinning, unfamiliar mountains visible through the trees. They'd left her homeland while she was sleeping.

Perhaps it was better this way, she thought.

"May I ask thee something?" he asked.

"Certainly, Y-yes." She waited for him to hand back the linden branch before the questions began. But he seemed to forget that it was even in his hand.

"Didst thou mean to kill me, last night?"

"Yes."

"Ha-ha! That was quick."

"Well," Galantha counted off on her fingers. "You wouldn't-- couldn't," she corrected herself, "even tell me if you were man or beast. Father was boasting about things Mother, my sisters, and I aren't allowed to whisper, and your demands were exceeding what I'd promised. For all I knew, you were a wizard, or an assassin in league with one."

"Hm," he acknowledged, nodding.

"And--" she stopped herself.

"'And'? What?"

"It's of no matter."

"It seems to be of a little matter, at least." He swallowed hard. "Dost thou fear me?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Y-Cinnabar," she said. "But touching you-- being near you-- was horrid. It lent strength to my arm. Like, like…"

"A tunic woven from wool and stinging nettles? Only, so tight, that it's under thy skin?"

"Yes!" A chuckle escaped her. "Very!"

"The magic," he said. "I suppose, as the strands loosened their hold on me, they entangled thee."

He was so quiet, Galantha thought he'd fallen back asleep. Then he spoke: "Still, thou tookst pity on me."

She glanced at him before looking back out the window. The forest was behind them completely, now. The midday light made her squint. "You said 'Please.'"

He chuckled. "The magic word."

"You didn't have to. It was in your power, then, to, well--" she cut herself off.

He started to speak, then stopped himself, once, then again, before asking: "Wouldst thou have asked my forgiveness, if I'd been dressed as a common shepherd?"

"Maybe," she said. "But not so quick."

"What?! Wh-?"

"You were fluent in courtly idiom," she explained. "You were at ease dining with a king. That cannot be learned through tutoring. A shepherd's garb would have seemed a bigger deceit than a frog's skin."

He threw back his head and laughed. "If our laws did not forbid it," he said,"I'd appoint thee High Judge."

Galantha almost let herself laugh along with him, when she felt the carriage slow. She noticed hedgerows along road, and other signs that they were entering an inhabited place.

"Heinrich?" her husband called, sitting straighter, and scanning the view, "are we reaching the Capital? I don't recognize--".

"We are only half-way, Your Majesty," the coachman called back. "But our own royal horses have boarded at the inn's stables, so they will be refreshed for the homeward journey."

Soon, they were driving through the city proper. People in the streets stopped what they were doing to stare at the spectacle, as Heinrich navigated through the ever-narrowing streets to the ally at the inn-yard.

Heinrich, taking on the role of footman, alighted from his seat, and hurried into the inn.

A moment or two later, he emerged, leading someone Galantha thought must be the innkeeper.

It was only when Heinrich had come back to the carriage door that her husband looked down at the linden branch in his hand, seemingly aware of it for the first time since Galantha had handed it too him.

"It would be terrible if this were trod upon, or if someone mistook it for kindling," he said. "Would it be well with the if I gave it to Heinrich to look after?"

She managed a smile: "If you think it best, Y-Cinnabar," she said. She turned her face partly away from him, and lowered her veil, as her mother had first taught her, years ago, when she first realized how extraordinarily beautiful her daughter was becoming.

After Heinrich helped them down from the carriage, the young king handed the branch to his coachman, and murmured something in his servant's ear.

Heinrich frowned and shook his head, but he still accepted the linden branch with care. slipping it into the buttonhole on his lapel, to free up his hands, before turning his attention to the horses.

She could see the whites of the poor beasts' eyes, and their coats were twitching as though they were being swarmed by biting flies from head to foot, or as if they were draped in blankets of wool and stinging nettles. It must have been magic, after all, that allowed them to pull the carriage so swiftly, and so safely, over wilderness roads that were little more than ruts in the ground.

She turn to follow her husband and the innkeeper, who led them to a private corner, behind a curtain, where his wife served them a meal of soup and bread, with a smile and a few words of congratulations, before courtseying, and leaving to attend her other patrons.

They ate their meal in silence, not quite comfortably. With each bite, she was aware of the time passing. Should it really be taking this long to hitch up a fresh team of horses to the carriage? Or was it only anxiety that made the time seem to pass so slowly?

Galantha tried to think of pleasantries for conversation, but it was like fumbling for objects in the dark. Several times, she thought he would speak, but in the end, he said nothing, either.

And though he smiled at her whenever their eyes chanced to meet, there was a tension behind his features. Was it regret, or anger, or simple weariness? She couldn't guess, nor keep from wondering.

When Heinrich came, at last, to say that it was time to go, the linden branch was no longer in his buttonhole. And the slightest of smiles passed between master and servant.

Their silence continued in the carriage as they sped over the ground. When they had left her home, early that morning, the shadows were long and blue on the ground, stretching far out behind them. Now the shadows were long and blue again, and stretching out in front of them.

The land was hillier, now, and they rolled up and down like a ship at sea. They were driving ever closer to the mountains that she'd glimpsed through the forest trees. Towns, and farmland, and patches of wilderness sped past her window as if they were fence posts along the road.

Despite it all, it seemed to Galantha that they were standing still. The sun was so low in the sky, now, that whenever the carriage rolled down the slope of a hill, they were cast into shadow. She gripped the edge of the seat, and willed the carriage ever faster.

Her husband patted the back of her hand. "All's well," he said, barely audible above the screeching and rattling of the carriage, "all will be well." He pointed to the view ahead. "Almost home," he assured her.

And there, she noticed, growing ever clearer with each moment, were the walls of a city atop the mountain they were climbing, with flags flying from the watchtowers.

The road was growing steeper, now, and more winding, back and forth. Sometimes, the Capital City was in front of them; sometimes, out her side window, as the road they were traveling snaked its way up the side of the mountain. Miraculously, the sun seemed to slow in its descent toward the horizon, as if it knew that it had to wait for them.

And then, at last, the road leveled out, and the walls of the Capital City was directly before them-- so high that Galantha couldn't see the flags flying from the towers.

Heinrich finally slowed the horses' gallop to a canter, and then to a trot, as the great iron gate in the City's walls rose to admit them.

Trumpets blared a fanfare, welcoming them home, as the last sliver of the sun finally disappeared below the horizon.

And then, all of a sudden, came three, loud, metallic, bangs, louder than the blaring of the trumpets, louder than any of the complaints that the carriage joints and springs had made during their entire journey: a noise like giant watch springs breaking, or three swords being broken over stones, that left her ears ringing.

"Heinrich!" the young king called, "is the carriage-- are we--?"

"The carriage is fine, Your Majesty," he said. "Those were-- those were three iron bands I'd put around my heart."

"Heinrich, why?! Wert thou injured?"

"To keep it from breaking in two for grief, Your Majesty," he answered, "when you were lost to us."

Her husband slumped back in his seat, his shoulders sagging. "Oh, Heinrich." There was a catch in his voice, and Galantha noticed there were tears in his eyes.

Soon though, he sat upright, alert and tense, and, with a touch, drew her attention out the window.

The street was brighter than twilight, lit with torches mounted to balcony railings. A multitude of banners, of several different heraldric designs, were draped from nearly all the windows. Crowds had gathered, as if everyone in the city had left their suppers and come out of doors. Many were carrying weapons. Some had bows, a few of those more richly dressed had muskets on their shoulders, and a few looked to be carrying swords they didn't really know how to use, taken down from the attic, perhaps, or from the wall, where they had been hung in honor of an ancestor. But there was no chatter: no calling back and forth between friends, no traders calling out their wares, no children.

"Heinrich," he called, "is it a tournament, or--?"

"These are no games, Your Majesty," his servant answered, his voice grim.

The young king scanned the scene, his eyes flicking from person to person, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He took her hand. A look of determination spread across his face, and he squared his shoulders.

As they wound through the streets, they continued to see people of all classes and trades, from beggars, to cobblers, carpenters to councilmen, all lined up and ready to fight each other, with whatever weapons or tools of their trade they had to hand. As the carriage passed by, the crowds shifted around them. Some slipped into alleys, or back behind the doors of their houses. But others walked up alongside the carriage, and behind, until they lead a massive parade all the way to the gate in the wall of the young king's palace garden.

Heinrich stopped the carriage, alighted from his seat, and came down to open the carriage door. "Your country rejoices in your return, Your Majesties," he said.

Her husband took her hand as he helped her down from the carriage. "Welcome home, my wife, my queen, Your Majesty," he said.

These words acted on the crowd like pebbles dropped dropped into water, and the people moved back, to give her room, though Galantha could sense their eyes on her, as they turned to see this stranger their king was bringing home. She was glad they could not see her blushing beneath her veil.

King Cinnabar bowed and smiled to those who bowed and curtsied to him, as he led her through the courtyard garden toward the palace. But he stepped over those who prostrated themselves, as if they were mere impediments in the road.

As her husband walked with her up the steps to the palace's doors, Heinrich followed a step behind his left shoulder, while others in the crowd tended to the horses and carriage.

It wasn't quite as still, inside the palace, as those in fairy tales she'd learned, where everything is frozen in time. She could hear distant footsteps, and distant voices. But compared to her own home, the air felt chill, and stagnant, as if there hadn't been enough people here, moving about, and carrying on with life.

Her husband put his hand on her shoulder. "Galantha, I have a wedding present for you."

She put out her hands, and felt the weight of it, first.

It was a flowerpot of white stoneware, with a decoration painted in a terracotta slip around the edge, of roses and grapevines. And planted there was her linden branch.

"I wanted to pick it out myself," he said, his voice sounding like it was far away-- like it was on the other side of a window, "but Heinrich thought it unwise for me to go through the market dressed like this. So he sent one of the stable boys instead."

Everything felt far away. The stone floor under her feet felt as unsteady as a stack of feather beds. She was so tired.

He guided her to a bench along one of the walls and sat down beside her. "Galantha? Your Majesty?"

She wanted to tell him she heard him. She wanted to say 'Thank you.' But the words disappeared in her throat.

"Your Highness?" he persisted, "Princess?" He brushed aside her veil and whispered in her ear. "Snowdrop?"

She meant to laugh at that, but it came out as a sob, first one, then another, and another, as unbidden, uncontrolled, and absurd, as a case of the hiccoughs. "I tho- I thought you'd- you'd thro--"

"Thrown it away?"

She gulped and nodded, holding her breath, to be sure she heard him.

"Why would I ever? I would never!" he said, as though it were one long word. "This is thy connection to home (mine, too, for a while). And it's a far stronger reminder of our promises than any ring-maker's trinket, or ink spilled on parchment. Hm? When it's our anniversary, we'll plant--"

Something invisible, as fine as spider silk, and sharp as a knife, snapped from around her own heart, then. And she wept. She couldn't stop. It felt like she would never stop.

But at last, the flood eased, and her breath came without catching in her chest. However long it had been, the light had shifted; it was truly night, now. Cinnabar was still there, his arm around her shoulder.

He was humming something in her ear. It sounded like it might be a children's rhyme, or a lullaby. It wasn't any she had heard before, though she could tell it was out of tune.

"Thou'rt a terrible singer," she told him, smiling.

He laughed, touching his forehead to her temple. "Always have been," he said, "every day of my life." He stood. "Come," he said. "Thou gavest me a tour of thy home. Shall I return the favor?"

She took his hand. "Yes," she said. "Thank thee, Cinnabar."

As they passed by a window, Galantha could see that her cheeks were stained with dust from the roads, her eyes were red from crying, and her braids were all askew. She was still a beautiful woman, perhaps, but no longer one that would make the sun jealous.

She sighed, and smiled.

#fairy tale retelling #The Frog King or Iron Heinrich #Grimm 001 #long post #> 7500 words #aroace representation #disability representation #my own writing #reblog yourself

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dxrkenedheights · 4 months

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where: the castle

with: astrid alfsson and esje grimm @wilddwcrds

★・・・・・・★

The Visser pack, like a storm claiming the sky, have seized a chamber within the castle's walls for their training sessions. To the townsfolk, it might seem as if they've staked their claim so firmly that nobody wishes to even enter and join them. Astrid like a wandering cloud, pays little attention to the instructions that Esje is to be trained by Roan. Her friend's escapades with Loki, the two of them escaping to the castle together hardly avoid notice, though battle might not always be the reason for their disappearances.

As Esje slips out of the training room, Astrid's hand finds her friend's shoulder, twirling the Grimm back through the door. "Not so fast, little white haired wolf." she chides and her tone is a playful melody. "If Loki and Roan are to tutor you in the art of combat, then I, Astrid Alfsson, daughter of Skadi and Torben Alfsson must teach you the art of archery." she declares with an air of jesting authority and her finger rises to Esje's lips, silencing any protest before it can escape. "And don't argue. I know you're already a skilled hunter, but this is different. Well, mostly. There are similarities, I'll grant you that much. When hunting rabbits, we aim for the heart. But sinking a vervain-soaked arrow into a vampire's eye? Exquisite satisfaction. And there's a certain joy in seeing a wolfsbane-laced arrow find its mark in a wolf. I have already made you a bow." she gestures to the two on either of her shoulders, grinning proudly.

#astridalfsson.talk #c: astrid alfsson w. esje grimm 001

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hk-treacle-tactics · 5 months

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🔥 Troupe Master Grimm 🔥

The hot dad himself! remember to bow at the start. (just tilt the joystick down to look at the floor.)

Tactics Tool Belt: (link to tactics glossary here) Visual cue, Acrobatics, Walk don't run

Dance Moves

Sky Drill

Grimm: appears in midair in a drill shape, shoots down towards you, then dashes toward you on the ground.

You: big jump, then either 1) go towards where he came from or 2) smack him in the head.

Fire Bats

Grimm: standing straight, opens his cloak at a right angle, and three fire bats fly out! pew, pew pew!

You: big jump, then dash towards him.

If you get too close to him before he fires off all the bats, he’ll teleport behind you, then fire off one more bat.

Cloak Swoosh

Grimm: 1. leans away, then slashes towards you with a big C-shaped downward swipe. 2. makes another C-shaped swipe upwards, then rains fireballs from above.

You: walk away until he swipes upwards, then walk back to where you started.

if you have shade cloak: dash through him, then walk back to where you started. easier to manage the distance that way.

Visual cue: The difference between the start of Fire Bats and Cloak Swoosh can be hard to tell at first! with Fire Bats, he’s standing up tall, and with Cloak Swoosh, he’s leaning away in an S-shaped posture. S for Swoosh.

Ground Spikes

Grimm: appears in an A shape, looking up. twisty spikes appear on the ground.

You: walk just a step or two to get in between two spikes. The spikes don't cause damage until they get tall.

Balloon Time

Grimm: appears in midair in a big balloon shape and starts emitting fireballs in all directions.

You: 1. get in position, then 2. jump in a loop to navigate the fireballs.

Acrobatics: This one’s complicated, i won’t lie! but it’s doable. I’ll explain the process from the left side, but you can do the same on the right side as well.

1. get in position: as soon as the balloon appears, go stand about ¼ of the way from the left wall of the arena. Standing in that spot on the floor, you only need to pay attention to three fireball lanes.

fireballs will come down the lanes in stacks, in one of five possible patterns: 100, 110, 101, 011, 001

2. jump in a loop: as the fireballs come towards you, jump up and slightly to the left. as you reach the top of the jump, go towards the right, so that you jump in a 0-shaped path and land where you started. depending on the fireball pattern, you’ll either do a big jump or a small jump for your loop.

for 011: do a big jump. for 101 and 001 : do a small jump by briefly tapping the jump button (I didn’t even know you could jump just a little until i met Grimm!). for 100 and 110, just stay still.

Grimm will do Balloon Time three times: when his health is at ¾, ½, and ¼ left. it’s a nice way to track how much health he has.

Other actions (nothing you need to do):

Scuttle: Sometimes if you’re too close to him, Grimm will scuttle away before resuming his attack.

Stagger: Grimm will burst into a cloud of black bats, one with big red eyes (that’s him).

Healing Spots

during Ground Spikes.

during Fire Bats: if you have Shape of Unn, you can wiggle under the bats! or if you do a big jump over the first bat, you can heal when you land on the ground- the second and third bats fly over you, aiming for where you were during your jump.

Hitting Spots

during Fire Bats: once you hop over the bats, you can get a couple hits in before he disappears.

during Sky Drill: slash down as he lunges under you.

during Ground Spikes: fire off a spell towards him.

Recommended Charms

Shape of Unn, for healing during Fire Bats

Stalwart Shell, for surviving Balloon Time

Extras

If you bow to him at the start, the grimmkin will clap for you! If you hit him instead, he’ll yell at you and give you an extra Balloon Time for your insolence. if you brought weaverlings, make sure to scoot away so they don’t hit him either.

#hollow knight #hollow knight boss guides #troupe master grimm #hk treacle tactics #grimm #boss guides

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dragynkeep · 9 months

Note

Okay. Hear me out. Salem vs. Florida man. To make things sporting Salem will have access to all her magic and the grimm pools to create new grimm. And Florida man is only allowed a single puff of meth from his pipe and .001 grams of bath salts. Also Florida man is not allowed to bring any of his alligators, cottonmouths, boas, etc.. to the fight. So in your opinion how long would the fight last before Florida man commits another act of cannibalism?

wdym florida man is starting off with the cannibalism

#rwby #salem #florida man #ais.txt #answered #q

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blucfviry · 9 months

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when you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are. anything your heart desires will come to you.

001. | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 : basic details

nome completo: seren.

conhecida como: fada azul, e espírito ou fada da floresta.

pronomes: ela/dela.

idade: aparenta ter 30 anos.

signo: touro.

alinhamento moral: bom e leal.

mbti: enfj (protagonista).

ocupação: proprietária de loja de ervas e chás (seren's herb & tea shop).

lealdade: mocinhos.

sexualidade: confiança mútua.

traços positivos: altruísta, compreensiva, gentil e inteligente.

traços negativos: dificuldade em aceitar ajuda de outros, dominante, sentimental e teimosa.

conto: pinóquio.

inspirações: fada azul/"wood sprite" (pinóquio) e rosalee calvert (grimm).

faceclaim: tahirah sharif.

002. | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 : background (em organização)

I. Surgida da magia existente na Floresta Encantada, Seren, maneira como se autodenomina atualmente, caminha pela Terra há mais tempo do que é capaz de se lembrar. Nascida como uma espécie de “espírito da floresta”, capaz de assumir diversas formas e conhecida como “Fada Azul” por todos aqueles que a viam vagando por entre as árvores, possuía a tarefa de conceder desejos àqueles que a avistavam na forma de uma estrela cadente, rasgando o céu noturno. II. Tendo demorado décadas até conseguir dominar a arte de moldar-se em uma forma humana, o espírito, ansiando por uma vida parecida com a das pessoas as quais passara tanto tempo concedendo pedidos, abraçou, assim que o fez, o que gosta de chamar de “uma vida normal”, construindo uma pequena cabana em uma das vilas da floresta que a criou. III. Não satisfeita com a rotina monótona que adquirira para si - e com a descoberta de que sem dinheiro não conseguiria atingir a chamada “vida normal” -, Seren expandiu sua casa, construindo uma pequena loja de chás e ervas na frente dela, juntamente com um amplo jardim nos fundos da construção, para atender não só seus vizinhos, mas qualquer morador de Tão Tão Distante que estivesse a procura de um estabelecimento com produtos de qualidade e plantados com muito amor. IV. Conhecendo a maioria dos moradores de seu vilarejo, a história do boneco de madeira que criara vida e fora sequestrado por uma terrível bruxa não demorou para chegar à sua porta. Ela conhecia Gepetto e, compadecendo-se de suas dores, assumiu para si a missão de guiar Pinocchio em sua trajetória, com a esperança de que o não-tão-garoto possa, enfim, assim como ela um dia quis, conquistar a vida que tanto deseja.

003. | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 : headcanons

under co.

004. | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 : anything else?

Seren é proprietária de uma loja de chás e ervas chamada “Seren’s Herb & Tea Shop”, localizada nas margens da Floresta Encantada. a pequena loja é conhecida na região pela qualidade de seus produtos, plantados, colhidos e tratados no amplo jardim nos fundos da loja, que também é a moradia de sua proprietária. alguns até dizem que remédios criados a partir das ervas compradas no local possuem propriedades “milagrosas”...

005. | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 : powers & abilities

under co.

#𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 : pinned post #𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 : about

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undead-bones · 1 year

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Some exemples to my other posts's ideas

Inaction/Neutrality. (Cowardice? Refusal to Save? To Rebel? To Protect? To Punish? To get Revenge? To Fight Back? To Stop? Or denied you the right to take said action?)

Abuse? Refugees? Punishment? Insult? Revenge? Injustice? Didn't save you/take you from the bad situation you're in? Let the person hurt you? Expect to accept the bullshit?

Doran Martell, Hinata (for Neji), Thranduil, Jaime Lannister (for Rhaella), the Valar.

Ungratefulness (Betray after they Help/Save you? Refuse to aid after everything you did and sacrifice for them? Don't valorize you enough?).

Defended when they lied. Killed because they helped you. Demand help/forgiveness after what they did to you. Got in trouble for helping them and was abandoned.

Walder Frey, Ariadne, Cersei (with Ned), Daenerys (with the Starks).

Not taking your side in the conflict. They forgive and stay with the person who wronged you (both of you?) or take their side, befriend or ally with said person, even help in hurting you or save them. Assist in the cover up. Or even giving a false testimony.

Finrod, Celebrimbor, King Viserys, Ned, Ollie, Sawada Nana, Wei Wuxian.

A character does shit and runs away, leaving their friends/family behind to suffer the consequences (or stigma) of being associated with them.

Defector, Run Away Bride, Evil Lineage, Kidnapped by Enemies

Rhaegar, Paris, Orochimaru (with Anko), Iemitsu.

Traitor of the Folk or Race/Category Traitor, maybe can be related to the '•' above or a Hunter of His Own Kind. (Inner-Prejudice maybe? Denial of Origin? Mixed Heritage? Or marrying someone of a 'lesser' kin can be considered 'treason'. Depends which the Folk in question is the considered superior/inferior, or can be a more Grey area too)

Raised by Rival/Adopted, Pretend to be Evil, Survival, Exception

Honerva (Haggar), Mance Rayder (kinda?), Norlin 'Silver Zoro', Uchiha Itachi, Conner (the Android), Raine Whispers.

Blitz and Fizzarolli from HB are considered that by Striker

Turns Against (their Faction? Their Family? their Leader? A member? Encouraged by a specific person?)

Nargothrond, Argella Durrandon, Havria.

Amnesic Crimes (maybe being unaware or mind controled?)

Bucky, Roy Clone, Clone Trooper Fox, Amnesic Villain, Hercules, Light Yagami

Pre Redemption Crimes

Ignus, Maleficent, Jaime Lannister, Ollie

Seduce an Character (like a Lady Mcbeth/Evil Advisor, Evil Stepmother, Black Widow or an Gold Digger). A powerful person? political power? magical? Its an non-human supernatural being? Your Archnemesis? A Love Matyr? Manipulation? For their assistance/help? Face-Heel Turn? Using a person's feelings for your own benefit? Revenge? (on your other love? On the subject in question or someone related to them?)

Human Weapon

Mal (Descendants), Alyss Baskerville, Lysa Arryn, Ilosovic Stayne, Cora from Ouat, Queen Ariana (Barbie), Stephan (Maleficent), Annatar (Silm), Prince Hans

Secret Child

Of a posmortum character, missing, trump card, revenge, throne rival.

Oak Greenbriar, Jon Snow, Setsuna and Towa, Jinmi, Luke and Leia, Lyra Belaqua, Kubo, Jenna Greenwood, Jake Brandon, the Sawada Family, Aurora, Killmonger, Ryan Butcher, Melody (Ariel), Historia Reiss, Arthur Curry

Chosen One Wannabe/I Could Have been a Containder

Orochimaru, Princess Rhaenys, Morro, Tai Lung.

There is Another/Hidden Tribe

Planet Pollux, Pandas (Po's Family), Maleficent's people, Quincy, Rio 2. Kara Danvers.

Locked in the Basement

Giles Grimm, Morpheus, Lapis Lazulli, Elk (Centaurworld)

Battle Royality/Infiltration

Joshua (twewy), Player 001 (Squid Game), Logan (Jigsaw)

Loyal Servant

Xiao, Sui-Feng

Villain and Hero (kind off?) have a kid together

BB (Kill Bill), Alice Baskeville (PH), Damian Wayne, Zuko (Cuz of Ursa), Sephiroth, Luke Skywalker, Kubo, Illyasviel Von Einzbern, Lloyd Garmadon

Identity

Yue, Venti, Utawarerumono, Yaotl, Gabriel (SP)

Alayne Stole, Mare Barrow

Vessel/In another Form

Bakura, Kurama, Kur, Blue Beetle, Angra Mainyu, Fnaf's Animatronics

Mogget Abhorsen, Annatar, Neliel Tu Oderschvank, Yaolt, Annatar

Unfriendly Fire

Anna of Arendelle, Rin Nohara, Yanli, Crepus Ragnvindr, Connla

Recruit the Enemy

Celaena (TOG), Levi Arckerman, Mukuro Rokudo, Suicide Squad, Xiao

Exiled

Dionysus, Kaedehara Kazuha, Zuko

#those are just some exemples of characters for my plot lists #dunno why i made this #ignore me #pls #i just wanted to list how can those tropes can go in a history #different paths and all #thelandswemadeofpaper #exemples

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acheronidae · 2 years

Note

Ok so I was looking back to try and see for certain what our first interaction was (which was you reblogging that drawing I did of pale nightmare kissing, followed immediately by the ask game and us gushing about pale nightmare) and I realized, I NEVER ASKED YOU ABOUT EDEN!! THIS IS A CRIME! SO. I am righting my wrongs now, GUSH AWAY!

HELL YES! I HAVE AN EXCUSE NOW, THANK YOU!!! /pos /gen

Okay, to make a long story short and to avoid major spoilers, Eden is the afterlife within my Gijinka AU. It is technically a dream realm, but the only way a mortal would be able to access it would be through death(a god would be able to access it just by sleeping, though).

I haven't figured out all the specifics of how it would work yet, but it is a bit inspired by the interpritation of the Garden of Eden found in SCP 001 - "The Ouroboros Cycle"(aka my favorite SCP article), where it stretches infinitely in size but you're never far from where you want/need to be.

Its patron goddess, Alune, is pretty shy and mostly disguises herself as just another mortal spirit within the realm in order to avoid drawing unwanted attention. She does do whatever she can to mantain the realm's strong sense of community, but not as its goddess. As far as Eden's citizens know their god went missing many centuries ago(which is half-true but I'm not going to get into that right now).

She's pretty important to Grimm's backstory in this AU, which I'm not going to discuss the specifics of because spoilers, but what I can say is that the two of them are very close friends who would honestly die for each other, they are the BroTP.

#hollow knight #gijinka au #incorrect history au #<-that wasn't supposed to be the actual title but it stuck help

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cfaugust · 17 days

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❛❛ gara macleod . ❜❜ ― 🥀 ― entering the multiverse…

verse 001 : supernatural (main)

arc 001 : set during the events of season one. ⌜devil’s trap⌟.

arc 002 : set during the events of season two. ⌜all hell breaks loose⌟.

arc 003 : set during the events of season three. ⌜no rest for the wicked⌟.

arc 004 : set during the events of season four. ⌜lucifer rising⌟.

arc 005 : set during the events of season five. ⌜swan song⌟.

arc 006 : set during the events of season six. ⌜the man who knew too much⌟.

arc 007 : set during the events of season seven. ⌜survival of the fittest⌟.

arc 008 : set during the events of season eight. ⌜sacrifice⌟.

arc 009 : set during the events of season nine. ⌜do you believe in miracles⌟.

arc 010 : set during the events of season ten. ⌜brother’s keeper⌟.

arc 011 : set during the events of season eleven. ⌜alpha and omega⌟.

arc 012 : set during the events of season twelve. ⌜all along the watchtower⌟.

arc 013 : set during the events of season thirteen. ⌜let the good times roll⌟.

arc014 : set during the events of season fourteen. ⌜moriah⌟.

arc 015 : set during the events of season fifteen. ⌜carry on⌟.

arc 016 : set after the events of the show's finale. ⌜hell ever after⌟.

verse 002 : fandomless

arc 001 : details to come. ⌜woman in total control of herself⌟.

verse 003 : charmed

arc 001 : details to come. ⌜something wicca this way comes⌟.

verse 004 : the vampire diaries universe

arc 001 : details to come. ⌜she is a mystic witch⌟.

verse 005 : grimm

arc 001 : she's a hexenbiest. details to come. ⌜season of the hexenbiest⌟.

verse 006 : descendants

arc 001 : she's a vk daughter of winifred sanderson. details to come. ⌜i put a spell on you⌟.

verse : tba

arc/au : tba

verse : tba

arc/au : tba

verse : tba

arc/au : tba

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dxrkenedheights · 4 months

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where: the castle

with: rineike visser and esje grimm @wilddwcrds

★・・・・・・★

The training methods of the other wolves have already been deemed alien to the Visser wolves. Rineike finds it bizarre, slow, and even pointless. She moves from one room, where her wolves have been tearing one another apart, to the next, where others are delicately punching padded cushions as if their hands are made of glass. Yet, Rineike notices Esje sharing the same sense of curiosity, and she chuckles softly as she approaches the young Grimm, placing a gentle touch on Esje's back. "De kjemper ikke som din Loki, hm?" Her voice carries a warm tease as she laughs. Her hand lowers as her attention is pulled by the thud of punches resounding, soft and precious. "Hvorfor er du ikke i det andre rommet? Jeg hørte at du er en god fighter nå. Du trenger ikke disse ulvene for å lære deg noe."

#rineikevisser.talk #c: rineike visser w. esje grimm 001 #EEE #Idk why I'm so excited for them but they cute

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memorieskept · 4 months

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@zodiac--muses

"You know, it's not a sin to want things to go according to plan." the goddess of another world chuckles at the lament of the lost princess. "Sin is such a silly word for desire. If wanting is a sin, then I'm afraid all of us are far beyond saving."

#zodiacmuses #GRIMM&GWEN THREAD 001.#♡. grimm.ic ⁄ ⁄ the woman of the hour .#♡. grimm.v01 ( main ) ⁄ ⁄ the endlessness of space .#yeets this at you gently

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melodiiesxfmadness · 1 year

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( au 001: the grimm diaries. )

full name: Bianca Noelle Pena-Pérez nicknames: Bee, Anca, First Noelle, Peña, Pérez. date of birth: April 24th, 1985 place of birth: Todos Santos, Mexico hometown: La Crescenta, California Residence: Washington, DC ( neighborhood: Anacostia ) Religion: Roman Catholic, lapsed Height & Weight: 5'7" & 136 lbs. Hair & Eyes: Dark brown & blue. relationship status: multi li. highly selective. ( chemistry × understanding of how multi li / being a responsible wp works. )

Skin tone: almond nationality: Chicana ( her parents became naturalized citizens in 1990 ) ( Mexican-American ) heritage: Mexican/Salvadoran ethnicity: Hispanic parents: Agata Maritza Pena-Pérez ( Mother, alive ). | Gerardo Rodolfo Pérez ( Father, alive ). siblings: Adán Darío Pena-Pérez ( older brother, alive ), Félix Iván Pena-Pérez ( older brother, alive ), & Javiera Socorro Pena-Pérez ( younger sister, alive ). orientation: bisexual ( male lean ), greyromantic. gender: female species: mortal/grimm

A Grimm (Ger. "wrath") is a special person who possesses incredible powers, such as being able to see the true form of Wesen even when the Wesen don't want them to. For centuries, Grimms have taken it upon themselves to police and hunt the Wesen population and to protect normal humans from the unknown threat around them. Grimms are all descended from human knights that participated in the Fourth Crusade, where they found a treasure that apparently needed protecting. Grimms are never referred to as Wesen, and all Wesen seem to group them into a "not us" category, so whatever Grimms are, they are not Wesen. Grimms' strength can also be measured in the fact they can casually take down Wesen who possess superhuman strength, such Jagerbars or Klaustreich, and can easily overpower humans.

Grimm abilities: Grimms possess many powers; the most commonly used one is their ability to see Wesen when they are woged, but only if the Wesen is startled, scared, angered, or stressed, or something else happens that disrupts the Wesen's concentration. They are also able to see woged Wesen on film recordings. Grimms have absolutely no influence over this ability. Grimms have one to two extra cones in their eyes compared to most people, which allows them to see things most people can't, such as Wesen. A Grimm's ability to detect Wesen is not limited to sight; Nick Burkhardt demonstrated the ability to detect the presence of Rosalee Calvert and Andre, despite having been temporarily blinded by the latter. Later, he describes a sort of subtle electric tension in his jaw and forehead when there are Wesen nearby. This "sixth sense" alerts the other perceptory senses, in effect amplifying them. Due to Grimm's differences in nature, they react differently to Cracher-Mortel spit than other people. The rage stage comes much earlier, and the Cracher-Mortel is unable to control them. They also still possess their Grimm powers, making them very dangerous. Nevertheless, despite being disoriented and confused, they are still calmer and don't just charge at people to attack them like other humans and Wesen under the control of a Cracher-Mortel. Grimms also possess slightly superhuman strength, durability, agility, reflexes, speed, and even morphallaxis. This allows them to go toe to toe with any Wesen, except Siegbarste, and survive things that would kill a normal person. Grimms' strength can also be measured in the fact they can casually take down Wesen who possess superhuman strength, such Jagerbars or Klaustreich, and can easily overpower humans. Grimms' durability is particularly notable; several times, Nick shrugged off blows from creatures with incredible strength. For example, when facing a Schakal, the creature smashed a toaster on his head, but he recovered in seconds. He was even able to escape from a beating with a Siegbarste, with the worst of his injuries being a few bruised ribs. It has also been shown that the blood of a Grimm can destroy the animal part of a Hexenbiest. In essence, the Hexenbiest becomes human after this and is no longer a part of the Wesen world. It is currently unknown if this will work on other members of the Wesen world. Furthermore, it is unable to work if it has been performed before or if the Hexenbiest has Grimm blood in their veins, as was the case with Juliette and Adalind due to both having had Nick's blood in them, making them immune. Grimms also possesses greater resistance to arsenic's drug-like effects and are thus able to resist the effect of the Coins of Zakynthos. Additionally, Grimms seem to have a natural aptitude for fighting, particularly against Wesen, and with ancient and medieval weapons. They also possess incredible observational abilities and keen instincts. There also seems to be some natural aptitude in the Grimm lines of artistic talent as there are many detailed pictures in Aunt Marie's books from the other Grimms, and Nick has an aptitude for drawing as well. When blinded, Nick's hearing is enhanced to the point of hearing things from a distance, as he was able to hear Rosalee coming and Hank's conversation with Wu on the phone despite being far away. He was also able to hear a fly buzzing on the ceiling, as well as destroy many objects thrown near him with his kanabo when he and Monroe were testing his hearing.

languages: Spanish ( Mexican, native ), English ( as a second language ), Portuguese, Italian. allergies: mango. celery. favorites: music genres / artists: reggae, tejano, dinah jane, citizen queen, música latina. tattoos: piercings: zodiac sign: Taurus.

staffed at: MedStar Washington Hospital Center occupation: Trauma certified registered nurse (TCRNs) degree: bachelor's of science in nursing, RN-to-BSN Purdue University Global ( class of 2009 ). additional job training: two years in the RN Critical Care Training Program at Medstar Georgetown University Hospital. occupation description: Trauma nurses provide triage, diagnosis, and care for patients with critical injuries and illnesses. They provide immediate emergency care including CPR and first aid, prepare patients for surgical procedures, and assist in emergency surgical procedures. salary: $77,901 ( yearly ), $1,498.09 ( weekly @ 40 hours ), $37 ( hourly ). work schedule: 7:00am to 7:00pm - monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, saturday. ( off friday & sunday ) occupation responsibilities: Providing triage, diagnosis and care for trauma patients, and preventing secondary complications. Handling serious injuries and illnesses, such as car accidents, suicide attempts, and heart attacks. Preparing patients for emergency operations and assisting surgeons in the operation. Distributing emergency medications. Working with urgent care patients and traumatized family members. Managing a chaotic and stressful work schedule. important link:001 important link:002 important link:003

#( character bio: bianca pena pérez. )#( additional verses. )

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phinnsyreads · 2 years

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An Out-of-Character Announcement:

- We've gotten through all of the two-digit SCPs! Now we'll be doing a few of the early SCP-001 Proposals, which will go out over a few weeks in December. We'll return to the 001s after every 100 episodes of the Main Series.

- After that, we'll be taking a couple months to plan/regroup/address the ever-growing pile of admin before we come back in March 2023 with SCP-100.

- If you don't want to go without a new episode during the break, you can always go to Patreon and pledge to gain access to our catalog of 38 Joke episodes, several batches of outtakes, and other stuff. Follow the link for more info.

And special thanks to new patrons: Special thanks to new Patreon patrons Aatoskari, Andrew Anastacio, Andrew Westerman, Anna, Breanna, Brenden Shields, CDRJ, Chaotic Monk, Chelsea Stanley, claire, Cmoparw, CommanderCS, Dagen, ~Diamond~, Eearslya Sleiarion, EquinoxRising, Feather, Gabriel Lopez, Gar-denProphet, Gary Cole, Grimm, Idran, James Gabbard, Jay Andres, John Hupla, Joseph valdespino-iraheta, Joshua Dale, Jude McKenna, Justin Lee, Kameron with a K, Kapro, Kaynamoo, Kaz, Kevin Johnson, Kieran Luke Miller, Kilk, King, Lib-by McGahee, locusdesperatus, Lukas Simler, Mari Furucho, Mauricio Ruiz-Cortes, Michael Y, Nicholas Mendoza, NineZeroNine, Patrick Williams Jr., peter perma-nian, Psionicon, Rebecca Strout Letourneau, Ryan Frazier, Scorn on the Cob, Simon Smyth, SirFoxx, Sir Ocelot, STFUDONNY NPC, Timothy Gallagher, Tobias Jackson, Tomek Kaminski, Violence Zack, Wingsofameme, and Yamtaggler.

#scp #the scp foundation #the scp foundation database #reading #reader #voiceover #sci-fi #horror #urban legend #folklore #fiction #podcast #announcement #patreon #scp 001

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capricorn-0mnikorn · 3 years

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Under the Linden Tree (a queered retelling of “Der Froschkönig oder der eiserne Heinrich“) Part 5/5 (The end of this one)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four)

And there, she noticed, growing ever clearer with each moment, were the walls of a city atop the mountain they were climbing, with flags flying from the watchtowers.

And then, at last, the road leveled out, and the walls of the Capital City was directly before them-- so high that Galantha couldn't see the flags flying from the towers.

Heinrich finally slowed the horses' gallop to a canter, and then to a trot, as the great iron gate in the City's walls rose to admit them.

Trumpets blared a fanfare, welcoming them home, as the last sliver of the sun finally disappeared below the horizon.

"Heinrich!" the young king called, "is the carriage-- are we--?"

"The carriage is fine, Your Majesty," he said. "Those were-- those were three iron bands I'd put around my heart."

"Heinrich, why?! Wert thou injured?"

"To keep it from breaking in two for grief, Your Majesty," he answered, "when you were lost to us."

Her husband slumped back in his seat, his shoulders sagging. "Oh, Heinrich." There was a catch in his voice, and Galantha noticed there were tears in his eyes.

Soon though, he sat upright, alert and tense, and, with a touch, drew her attention out the window.

"Heinrich," he called, "is it a tournament, or--?"

"These are no games, Your Majesty," his servant answered, his voice grim.

Heinrich stopped the carriage, alighted from his seat, and came down to open the carriage door. "Your country rejoices in your return, Your Majesties," he said.

Her husband took her hand as he helped her down from the carriage. "Welcome home, my wife, my queen, Your Majesty," he said.

As her husband walked with her up the steps to the palace's doors, Heinrich followed a step behind his left shoulder, while others in the crowd tended to the horses and carriage.

Her husband put his hand on her shoulder. "Galantha, I have a wedding present for you."

She put out her hands, and felt the weight of it, first.

It was a flowerpot of white stoneware, with a decoration painted in a terracotta slip around the edge, of roses and grapevines. And planted there was her linden branch.

Everything felt far away. The stone floor under her feet felt as unsteady as a stack of feather beds. She was so tired.

He guided her to a bench along one of the walls and sat down beside her. "Galantha? Your Majesty?"

She wanted to tell him she heard him. She wanted to say 'Thank you.' But the words disappeared in her throat.

"Your Highness?" he persisted, "Princess?" He brushed aside her veil and whispered in her ear. "Snowdrop?"

She meant to laugh at that, but it came out as a sob, first one, then another, and another, as unbidden, uncontrolled, and absurd, as a case of the hiccoughs. "I tho- I thought you'd- you'd thro--"

"Thrown it away?"

She gulped and nodded, holding her breath, to be sure she heard him.

Something invisible, as fine as spider silk, and sharp as a knife, snapped from around her own heart, then. And she wept. She couldn't stop. It felt like she would never stop.

He was humming something in her ear. It sounded like it might be a children's rhyme, or a lullaby. It wasn't any she had heard before, though she could tell it was out of tune.

"Thou'rt a terrible singer," she told him, smiling.

He laughed, touching his forehead to her temple. "Always have been," he said, "every day of my life." He stood. "Come," he said. "Thou gravest me a tour of thy home. Shall I return the favor?"

She took his hand. "Yes," she said. "Thank thee, Cinnabar."

As they passed by a mirror in the hall, Galantha could see that her cheeks were stained with dust from the roads, her eyes were red from crying, and her braids were all askew. She was still a beautiful woman, perhaps, but no longer one that would make the sun jealous.

She sighed, and smiled.

~end~

#fairy tale retold #asexual #aromantic #Grimm 001 #My own writing #queue

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