#all the chairs are just thrones for finch
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the GOODEST girl at the specialist (who had to try every chair in leash radius, including mine)
#dogblr#finch#saluki#2 years#all the chairs are just thrones for finch#her platelets are back to normal. like 100% normal. they think tuesday might've been a bad stick#but the rest of her labs are still kinda weird so waiting on more results tomorrow and we'll go from there#basically she's weird. my medical mystery child. and all the vets once again wanted to love on her.
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The Queen’s Hand
(Part III: Eye for an Eye)
Prologue | Part I | Part II
Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.
Harwin grunts, draped over the back of the arm chair, while the maester cleans and dresses his wounds.
Y/N had been lucky, or so they say. Her burns will heal, but they will scar. The flames licked up her heels, to the calf, and on the left side, the base to her thigh. Lucky because they were in a place no one but her ladies in waiting and husband might see. Not because they hurt any less. The aching is made bearable with milk of the poppy.
The maester tried to afford Ser Harwin the same mercy, before scrubbing his wounds clean. But the knight refuses to have his mind unclear while their attacker remains at large. The expanse of Harwin’s back and shoulders are marred, but he will live to tell the tale.
Y/N stands by her husband’s side, one hand clutched in his, the other passing tenderly over his hair. “Are you nearly finished?”
“Indeed, your grace.” The maester nods.
The princess finches when Harwin lets out another hiss of pain.
“Princess, I do apologize.” Angette says, bowing her head as she enters the room. “But her majesty, the Queen, requests a word with you.”
Y/N clears her throat. “Let her know that I will be there in a moment.”
“Yes, Princess.” The door eases shut behind her.
Harwin lifts his head to gaze up at his wife. “You are free to go.”
Y/N bends down to kiss his forehead in parting. Her healing skin sears in protest. “Fuck.” She curses, between gritted teeth. “Fuck.”
“See what she needs, then you must rest.”
“I’m fine.” Y/N breathes deeply to collect herself, standing upright, walking is painful.
“To heal, you must rest. If not of your own free will, then perhaps your husband must demand it of you.”
Y/N opens and closes her mouth twice, gaping like a fish out of water.
“I can live with your wrath, I cannot live without you.”
Makes it nearly impossible to stay cross with him. “I will rest when I am finished.”
“Thank you.” He sighs, brushing his lips over her knuckles.
Y/N draws back after a moment, passing a hand over the front of her dress. She and Harwin do not fight, they very rarely disagree. It leaves her insides raw as her wounds.
Alicent waits, well poised, at the door’s entrance. “Are you in very much pain?” She asks, once Y/N joins her.
“You call me away from my husband at a time like this to ask if I’m in pain?” Y/N looks her over from head to toe.
“I mean no offense.” Alicent assures her.
“You are surely here of good will.” Y/N reasons, “forgive me.”
“All is forgiven.” Alicent waves a hand. “Your father asked I see you well.”
“Tell him I am well.” Y/N utters.
Alicent nods, “of course.” She turns on her heels to leave.
“Wait,” Y/N reaches to her without thinking. Catching the queen’s hand in her own.
Alicent’s eyes soften, keeping her hold on Y/N’s hand. “What?”
“I fear that we are all in terrible danger. This assailant meant to kill my son, though he is not directly in line for the iron throne. Given thus, your children might also be targeted.”
“Y/N, there is something…” Alicent faulters. She cannot hold this terrible secret much longer. “Perhaps it is worth looking into.”
Y/N takes a step forward, closing any distance between them. “Speak it.”
“Princess.” Larys Strong appears just beyond Alicent’s shoulder. “It is a pleasure to see you up and about.”
“Thank you, Ser Larys.” Y/N smiles at him.
“My Queen,” he nods to Alicent. “I was hoping I might find my brother.”
“He’s just there.” Y/N waves toward their rooms, opening the door a smidge. “Ser Larys is here, my love. May I send him?”
“Of course,” Harwin calls in return.
“He’ll be pleased to see you,” Y/N tells Larys as he passes.
When the door is closes they are left to speak freely. Alicent’s expression is hard to read, though something clearly plagues her thoughts.
“Alicent,” Y/N tries to catch her eye.
“Lady Laena,” Alicent steals herself. “Has passed.”
“How?”
“The child would not come.”
“Awful.” Y/N swallows, “will there be a send off?”
“Driftmark, in two days time. I would like to offer you and yours a place on our ship.”
“That is very generous, your grace. I will be sure to consult my husband in the matter and return with an answer by supper.”
“Surely you cannot travel dragon back.”
Y/N lifts her chin. “I cannot allow this act to define me.”
“You mustn’t live in fear, tis true. However you must not over exert yourself.”
“You sound like my husband.”
“Ser Harwin may have a point this once.” Alicent will hold her tongue a while longer.
———————————🌱————————————
Y/N’s uncle, Daemon, now has two daughters of his own. Baela and Rhaena. Spitting images of their mother.
Laenor is beside himself. Aegon is drowning himself in cups. The royal family is quite a sight these days. Dividend by circumstance, try as they may to keep it hidden. Larys is there to witness it all.
Alicent watches him in return. She cannot speak of what transpired between them. She may have let slip to Ser Larys that she wishes his brother see some consequence for his indiscretions, but death by fire is not what she meant.
“Everything alright?” Y/N asks as she passes the Queen.
“Tis a solemn day, Y/N.”
The princess nods. “That it is.” She can sense that whatever niceties Alicent had afforded her have passed. The queen is no longer privy to sharing whatever insights she harbors.
Harwin is sat with Lord Corlys, offering his deepest condolences.
The Strong children mingle about, comforting members of the Velaryon family. Lucerys and Jacaerys follow suit.
Y/N excuses herself to tend her brother-in-law, down at the shore, two cups in hand. “Might I join you, Ser Laenor?”
“If it is your wish, Princess.” Laenor replies, back still to her.
Carefully Y/N wades into the water. It stings at her burns and shifts the bottom of her skirts. Up to the knee she goes, however improper. She offers the spirits to Laenor. “To Laena.”
“To Laena.” He chugs the whole thing down. “If there is something on your mind then speak it. Her majesty, the Queen, will soon lose her temper over the impropriety of this exchange.”
“You are my family. I do not care what she has to say on the matter.” Y/N keeps her gaze fixed on the sea.
“How does it feel it?” Laenor wonders.
“Hmm?”
“To be made of fire.”
Y/N allows her brow to furrow. “Same as it feels to be made of the sea, I suspect. Ever exhausting yourself in a futile attempt not to harm the people around you.”
“They know the cost.” He laments.
“I did not wish for this, nor did my sister.”
“You did ask her to bear the brunt of your father’s legacy over you.”
“So that I might protect her.”
“You cannot protect Rhaenyra anymore than I could protect my own sister.” Laenor peers down at his empty cup. “Shame. This is not a pain I wish upon you.”
“Princess! Ser Laenor!” Harwin’s voice comes as no surprise.
“Yes, dear husband?”
“The king asked I collect you.” He tells the pair.
Y/N sighs, clapping a hand to Laenor’s shoulder. “Come.”
Laenor shakes his head, “I do not yet wish to be collected.”
Y/N turns back toward the sand and Harwin. “May I have nothing?” She remarks, catching the arm he offers to aide her footsteps. Her gown weighed down by the moisture dripping from all sides.
“Clearly not and you know it.” The knight replies, taking no pleasure in this. However there are times he is reduced to fetching his wife, by order of the king. “Lord Corlys is sending Ser Qarl down as well.”
“Will it always be this way?”
“Until Rhaenyra is queen, no doubt.” Harwin leads her to the lowest floor of the Driftmark estate.
“I wish I were born a common girl. I would not mind the work in exchange for freedom. Instead I am forever indebted to the iron throne and by taking my hand, so are you.”
“I have chosen this.” Harwin reminds her. “The cross you bear is a heavy one and I cannot lift it from you. But I will help you shoulder it, I will not leave you alone in this.”
Y/N sighs, taking refuge in the shelter of his arms. “I do love you…and I am sorry for the distance between us as of late.”
“As I love you, I apologize for my part in it.”
Y/N nods into his chest. “How are the children?”
“Gone to bed. I thought I might steal a moment with you, princess.” He guides her back to the wall, holding her captive in the cage of his arms. When his lips meet hers she is lost. Left pliant before him.
Harwin has given her heart a home. Someone to pour hope and dreams into, to build empires with. A lover that would move men and mountains alike to protect her, to please her.
Y/N winds her arms around his neck, losing her fingers in his curls. Deepening the kiss.
A rumble of voices from the great hall demands their attention.
“What was that?” Y/N dodges beneath his arm. Lifting her skirts to run slightly faster.
“Will you forever charge toward the danger instead of away?”
“I’m afraid so.” The princess admits.
“Let me ahead at least.” Harwin is ready to live up to his nickname, if need be.
They makes haste to the hall. Their children are inside, huddled close to Jace and Luc, who is sporting a bloodied nose.
“What is the meaning of this?” Y/N demands, crossing the room to her children. Clearly shaken, but fully intact.
Aegon and Helaena stand near the fireplace, no worse for wear. But Aemond-
“Are you alright?” Harwin leans down to Lucerys. If Rhaenyra and Laenor are absent they must advocate for the boys.
“Yes, uncle.” The boy nods.
“We’ll have you tended in a moment.” Harwin presses a kiss to his hair.
“Mother, there was a brawl.” Viserus informs her.
“Aemond stole Vhagar!”
“He pushed Baela and Rhaena. He tried to kill Luc!”
Rhaenyra arrives a few moments later with Daemon just behind. “Is everyone alright?”
“Not exactly,” Y/N whispers, the children continue to bicker.
Rhaenyra bends down to her sons, so that she might hear the tale.
“Enough!” The King roars. “Aemond, I will hear the truth of it.”
“Your son has been maimed and her son is responsible.” Alicent points out. “What else is there to hear?”
“A regrettable accident,” Rhaenyra counters.
“Prince Lucerys brought a blade with him, he meant to kill my son.” Alicent’s accuses.
“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves,” Rhaenyra explains. “Vile insults were levied against them.”
“Insults? What insults?” Viserys wonders.
“The legitimacy of my sons birth was called loudly into question.”
Not this again.
“He said Jace and Luc are our brothers.” Aemmia stares down at her hands as she speaks. She has come to age that she understands, it matters not if they share a father, only the repercussions of speaking so would be grave for her family.
“Was naught but talk amongst a lot of children, it meant nothing.” Alicent says, immediately.
“Please, Grandsire…” Aemmia presses on, “he called them bastards.”
Viserys is sent reeling at this, looking down at his youngest son.
Harwin widens his stance, closing the slight gap between Y/N and Rhaenyra. Though he is here as Prince consort, not a knight, he will perform his duty to his family. He will keep them safe.
“My sons are in line to inherit the iron throne, your grace.” Rhaenyra adds. “This the highest of treasons. The prince must be sharply questioned so that we might learn where he heard such falsehoods.”
“Over an insult?” Alicent scoffs. “My son has lost an eye.”
Viserys levels himself with Aemond, still seated before the maester. “Who told you this lie, boy?”
Aemond swallows hard, looking to his mother, but does not speak.
“Your king demands an answer!”
“It was Aegon.” Aemond lies, surely to sheild his mother from harm.
“Me?” Aegon chokes out. Of all the people to blame, why must it always be him?
“Aegon, who spoke these words to you?”
Aegon is silent for a moment. “We know, father. Everyone knows. Just look at them.”
“These foul rumors must cease! Let it be known that anyone who dares question the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons will have their tongue removed.” Viserys addresses the room.
“Thank you, father.” Rhaenyra murmurs.
“Now make your apologies and show good will toward one another. Your father, your grandsire…your King demands it.”
“That is insufficient.” Alicent says, not believing her own ears. “Our son has been permanently damaged, my king. Good will cannot make him whole. Please Viserys, he’s your son. Your blood.”
“I know, Alicent,” Viserys snaps. “But I cannot restore his eye.”
“No, but there is a debt to be paid.”
“What would you have me do?”
Alicent pauses to deliberate. “I will have one of her son’s eyes in return.”
“My dear wife, you mustn’t let rage blind you.”
“If the King will not seek justice then the Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Alicent demands.
“Stay your hand, Cole.”
“No, you are sworn to me!”
“As your protector, my Queen.” Ser Criston must regretfully decline.
“This matter is settled.” Viserys presses a kiss to her cheek, then begins to turn away.
This breaks something within the Queen. Shattering her soul into a million pieces and she sees red. Grabbing the dagger from her husband’s sheath and charging for Rhaenyra’s son.
Lucerys screams when he sees her coming up behind his mother’s back. Rhaenyra catches her hand above the blade. Forcing her back.
Y/N steps in front of her children and nephews out of instinct. Luc tugging anxiously at her hand. If anyone wishes to harm him, they will have to go through her and be met with the wrath of the King.
“Stay with the King!” Ser Harrold Westerling commands, but Criston breaks free, with every intention of gifting his Queen her request.
“Alicent, you let her go!” Viserys calls.
Harwin forces his way through the huddle of bodies to meet him. Though he is injured and unarmored, he manages to take Cole down.
“Alicent, please. It needn’t be this way.” Y/N attempts to reason with the Queen. “As a mother who loves her children, my heart weeps for you and your son. But this is not the way. Might you find it in yourself to accept this apology, so that we might show good will to one another?”
“The apology is not yours to make! For years I have watched you bend the knee and wet your eye with apologizes of offenses that are not your own. I will not accept it.” Alicent refocuses on Rhaenyra. “What of honor? Duty? Sacrifice? Alas, it is trampled beneath your pretty foot again. Now you take my son’s eye, and to even that you feel entitled.”
“Exhausting, wasn’t it?” Rhaenyra breathes. “Hiding under the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are.”
The blade of Viserys’ dagger gashes Rhaenyra’s forearm when Alicent pushes her away. Y/N catches her sister, applying pressure to the wound. The Queen allows the knife to fall from her hand, clattering to the floor.
“This proceeding is at an end.” Viserys says with finality.
Y/N knows better, these proceedings never end.
Taglist @evyiione
Part IV
#hotd x reader#hotd imagine#hotd#house of the dragon#the queens hand#rhaenyra fanfic#rhaenyra x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#princess rhaenyra#ser harwin breakbones#ser harwin x reader#harwin strong x y/n#harwin strong x reader#harwin strong imagine#Harwin strong#alicent hightower#alicent x reader#ser laenor velaryon#jacerys velaryon#lucerys velaryon#aemond targaryen#prince aegon#haelena targaryen#viserys targaryen#king viserys#daemon targaryen#queen alicent#larys strong#corlys valeryon#rhaenys targaryen
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Word Find Tag Game (fire, water, air, stone)
Thanks for the tag @thegreatobsesso! I feel like I lucked out cuz apparently these words come up a LOT in my draft lol *passages are from my book 2 first draft*
Fire and Stone
"To be frank, Cenric," Arabesque said flatly, "I could not care less about what you choose to do. I am leaving for Maelifelldar tomorrow, you have no bearing on my decision."
Cenric, for a moment, prepared to explain his point further because Arabesque was not hearing him properly. But after glancing at a silent Ludivine and Leon, who shook his head and glared as if to say "no more, leave it", he just nodded and sat back in his chair.
The fire danced in Nelda's fireplace as the night drew on. She stared deep into it, words clamoring in her mind, too loud and incoherent to share as Arabesque paced about the room, deep in thought. While Ludivine and Leo conversed, he was silent and determined, but just as stuck as everyone else.
"I'm...sorry." Nelda managed to spit out, her focus now fixed on him who, for the first time that night, stopped pacing, "I, of course will help you with whatever you need but -"
"I know," he finally sat next to her, barely settling, but allowing his stone demeanor finally crack slightly, "I know. I can't stop it. I have to lose my family all over again."
Air and Water
The halls were empty, grey, and covered in dust; a stark contrast to the halls that lived in Leon's memory. The glistening and glassy mosaics of deep yellows, reds, and teals that lined the large windows were chipped and dull with bits and pieces laying at their feet mixed in with the broken glass. Dirtied white walls, bare and disgraced, remained where striking panels of etched gold and amber once stood.
When he and Ludivine entered Corarei about an hour ago, it was quiet. The spring songs of birds and insects, that were once constant in the seasons of the past, were now gone from the air. Most of the city was stripped of its former brilliance, and inhabitants reduced to the likes of frightened strays whose first instincts were to flee at the sound of footsteps. But the palace, the place that was a fixture of his family's memory, was a much different sight.
The stagnant air in the palace made their legs stop almost automatically as they approached the throne room, the same way that stagnant water signaled danger. And much like stagnant water, the air carried the wretched scent of something like rotting eggs, cabbage, and flesh. Ludivine couldn't help but turn her head and gag. Leon's lungs screamed to leave, and his legs refused to take him any further. It was the smell that war left. It jumped down their throats and choked them incessantly. This was not a palace anymore. It was a glorified mausoleum.
They dared not speak, as their footsteps were the only acceptable disruption of the hallowed silence.
I'm gonna tag @did-i-do-this-write @dontjudgemeimawriter @the-finch-address @daisywords @cilly-the-writer if yall feel like it lol. Your words are wild, art, figure, and offer (idk I'm bad at coming up for words for these lmao)
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“And in His law, he meditates day and night.” (Psalm 1:2)
I gaze from my window, confined to my throne, a cane-seated kitchen chair covered in cat hair. My cats and I are thrilled by the flock of birds ardently attacking the feeders my wife fills several times each day. We watch finches and sparrows, mourning doves and pigeons, and of course the occasional flock of jet-black crows visit us. I gaze in wonder, listening to my black cat chatter away, carrying on a one-sided conversation with his winged brothers and sisters.
He is in his own world, communing with the nature he is in awe of yet fully understands. I envy him. I meditate daily, but never really get the intense experience of true life. To experience true life is to be with Jesus, be with the people who are poor, poor in mortal wealth, but strong and rich in understanding true life; to know Jesus is to be one of the people rich in Truth. Jesus speaks Truth; Love speaks Truth.
To commune with God is to believe that we speak to and with God. Three times in my eighty years I have been on the precipice of entering eternal life with God. And all three times, God has told me that my journey on earth is not finished. My life is a part of the Heart of God. Heart is synonymous with Love, and as we know, God is Love and Love is God. I meditate on Love, but as a mere mortal, I can only experience a thimble full of True Love, God’s full Love, Truth!
As I sit with my cat, writing this missive, I understand what Jesus meant when He said that we must be as a little child to enter the kingdom of heaven. My cat is in total wonderment watching, chattering. As I was standing at the precipice of God’s Eternity, I was bewildered by the surrounding calm; I feared the peace. I watched! I chattered!
Am I ready to face our Father/Mother God in Eternity? Have I blessed others with God’s Love and Grace? Have I forgiven? Has God’s Love and Goodness flowed through me to be shared with all whom I meet? Have I sought God in my heart every day, as Jesus did? Have I walked in the steps of Jesus, as He walks in mine? Am I Just? Am I worthy? Am I worthy??
©Russell Kendall Carter
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Hello! Can you do Spencer x gn! reader based on the song Birds by thomas sanders where the reader would be watching birds everyday alone and spencer would notice the reader every time he walked to work. one day the reader would still sit on the park bench in pouring rain and thunder and spencer decide to see whats up and finds the reader crying, beaten and bruised by their own family, so spencer decides to sit next to them and talk about birds. (if you want to write it further it would be a lovely strangers to lovers)
thank you for advance❣
God I love this song so much. I hope you like this! Also, sorry for not posting yesterday. That was my bad. I haven't been writing as much because I'm leaving to go to college in eight days so I'm kinda busy packing all my stuff again, so if I take a break for no reason, that's why loll. Edited by @mystic-writes
Gif by @reidgifs (Happy birthday 🎉)
I don't wanna drive a fancy car today
I don't wanna ride in a red corvette
I don't wanna jog my Saturday away
But I don't wanna go home yet
You're sitting on your favourite bench again when the tall man walks by. He does this every morning and every night, and since you noticed, you've been trying to come out here more and more. You like watching the birds, cataloguing which ones you see, if they're new or returning. A lot of the returning ones come over and you feed them some healthy seeds and bird snacks, sometimes even fruit if you have it. A lot of the birds come over and bring the new or shy ones to get extra treats.
But, you always look for the curious man who watches you watch the birds. You don't feel scared when he watches. In fact, you feel extra safe, like no one can hurt you.
And you need that, because you really don't want to go home.
Today is not the day to jump out of a plane
I don't wanna parasail or play roulette
I don't wanna risk it all or go insane
But I don't wanna go home yet
I just want to watch the birds go by
From my handy fold-able blue canvas throne
I wanna watch them fly and fly
And see them soar up into the unknown
But I'd feel just like a nerd
Watching birds
Watching me here all alone
I don't wanna break dance or learn tae-kwon-do
I don't wanna fish 'til all the fish are gone
I don't wanna roller skate, even if it's slow
I don't wanna pass out in a marathon
You like this park because of how quiet it normally is. But today, there's a triathlon coming through, and your normal bench is constantly disturbed by the runners passing by. You have seen so few of your birds today, and by noon you've decided to give up and go to the little cafe across from the park. You don't like going there because you don't have much money to spend, and you like to save as much as you can, but you can't concentrate on anything.
As you're exiting the park, you see that same tall, skinny man standing at the finish line of the race, and the two of you lock eyes before you leave.
I don't like soccer, baseball track or field
I'm not up for a match of polo
I don't wanna seek or try to stay concealed
I'm also not up for... water polo?
I just wanna watch the birds up there
Track the migratory patterns that they flow
I wanna watch them from my chair
With my binoculars, my latte and my phone
Trying to spot a lark
In the park
Parked in nature all alone
You smile as Grape, a round little sparrow that you see almost every day, flies down towards you. He lands on the other side of your bench and you hold out some seeds for him to eat. He goes to eat them, but startles and flies away. You look behind you and see the man from all those times before standing next to your bench. You scatter the seeds on the ground and smile.
"Can-can I sit down?" he stutters and you smile and nod.
"Of course. Be my guest," you say, moving over a little more so he can sit down without touching you. "What's your name?"
"Uh, Spencer. What's yours?" he asks.
You smile. "[Y/N]."
"So…" he trails off, as if he doesn't know where to start. "You like birds, huh?"
You nod. "I do. I find they're easier than people."
"Really?"
"Yep. I just know what they want. Sometimes they like attention, sometimes it's food, and sometimes they just want to sit next to me and sing," you say as a Blue Jay lands on the ground and starts pecking at the seeds you scattered there.
"Do you want to- uh- know something about the Blue Jay?" Spencer asks, looking sheepish.
You grin at him and nod. "Sure!"
Alone here with the doves
The sparrows, the ospreys
The owlets, the eaglets, and my list
It's just me and Mr. Finch
The robins, the kingfishers, the snipes
Though I heard they don't exist!
Each little species
And it's little way can teach me
What awaits you
If you can get away
I wanna watch the birds do what they will
Sorry if I'm ornithologically prone
I wanna watch from somewhere undisturbing
Quiet, calm, still
Sit right here and gaze at the unknown
I don't wanna fly in the sky, I just wanna be alone
It's not a big deal, or anything
You don't know where your tears end and the rain begins. You've been outside on your bench for so long in the rain that you are completely soaked through, shivering, wailing. No one's come up to you. No one's even walked by.
That is, until someone familiar does.
"[Y/N]?"
You look up and see Spencer standing over you. He has an umbrella out, and he's holding it above himself and you. You feel more tears or rain roll down your cheeks, and you hide your face in your hands, trying to hide the bruises from him.
"[Y/N]? What happened?" he asks, sitting down next to you. You try and tell him not to, that it's really wet, but he sits anyway.
You sigh, your head still in your hands, as you manage to get out, "My-my fath-father."
Spencer doesn't say anything. He just pulls you close and holds you as you sob into his shoulder.
"And-and my mother sh-she didn't- wouldn't- do any-anything!" you wail. Spencer drops the umbrella and hugs you tight around your shoulders.
You're alone with Spencer, and you've never felt more safe.
I just wanna be alone
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Dawn and Dusk Part V
Before you read, here’s Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV!
Category: Romantic Fluff, Angst
Fandom: Yona of the Dawn
Characters: Soo-Won, Yona
Requested by: @lilc77 (Tumblr)
Hey, friend! I hope you’re ready for more YonaWon! This is for the first of the batch that you requested for the theme “sexual tension and desire.” I thought it would fit perfectly within my ongoing “Dawn and Dusk” series of oneshots, so I hope you enjoy the latest installment!
The study echoed with gentle flip of pages. Yona sat among the towering tomes, her legs tucked primly underneath her so the thick, leather-bound book could rest on her thighs. Her dawn-colored eyes scoured the printed words carefully, though in the back of her mind, she doubted that a biological survey of Kouka Kingdom’s bird species would prove fruitful in her endeavor. Though she knew nothing would be hidden in the text, she entertained herself for a few moments more with the detailed illustrations of the songbirds and descriptions of their behavior. She got like this from time to time, looking for escape in the useless paragraphs after yet another day of finding nothing.
Her fingertips skimmed over the inked drawing of a finch, its feathers painted in brilliant watercolor hues. The “sunrise finch,” it was nicknamed, not only for its brilliant red and yellow plumage, but also its propensity to be the first of the indigenous birds to rise. It awoke in the mere minutes before dawn to herald the oncoming sun with sweet tunes of the morning. Yet as the golden sun spilled across the trees, it would fall silent, its beautiful song swallowed up by the dawn chorus of other birds. Brief and fleeting, like the sunrise it worshipped.
Yona wondered if that was her fate, to be brief and fleeting like the dawn.
Sighing, she closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. Rather than grab another from the small stack beside her, she sat there a moment, reaching back to massage the flesh of her shoulder. Though soaking in the bath— however brief that was thanks to her surprise encounter with Soo-Won— had improved the strain significantly, she still found it twinging throughout the day. Perhaps I should retire early and give it some rest, she wondered, but looking down at the books next to her, Yona knew that would not happen. She had to keep searching, searching for any clues to the puzzle that existed between herself and Soo-Won.
She turned to the window, where the moonlight streamed in to bathe the study in white, at least where the soft yellow light of the lantern beside her could not reach. She wondered if there was a bird that also called to the setting sun and rising moon. Did it mourn the loss of the sun, or did it welcome the appearance of the stars and night sky? Perhaps there was no bird at all, but a king’s fanfare is close enough, she supposed. Dusk had ruled this land ever since her father’s death, as the pale moon sat upon the throne, merely reflecting the light of the sun. A false light, but, did that mean it was no less worthy? She wondered that as she gazed at the sliver of moon hanging low in the sky. Dusk, dawn… It was all light, wasn’t it, chasing away the darkness?
Who am I to truly say which is better? Yona thought with a sigh, looking back down at her lap. She felt her eyes begin to burn with the familiar sensation of salty tears brewing in the ducts. She often got this way when the watchful nights closed in, cast in light only by her flickering lantern. Everything was still so confusing; she knew not what path to take, what she should do for her people. It was maddeningly frustrating. She really only knew one thing these days, and that is that she still loved Soo-Won, achingly so, despite everything that had happened.
The first tear slipped down her cheek just as the door to the study opened. Yona quickly swept it away with the sleeve of her kimono as Soo-Won walked in, a look of mild surprise on his face.
“Ah. You’re still here? It’s awfully late.”
“I could say the same to you,” she said, but not icily. “I wanted to look through another book or so before finishing up for the night. What about you?” she asked as he navigated through the stacks upon stacks of volumes covering the floor and sat at his small desk. He picked up his quill with a tut, uncapping the inkwell and dipping the pointed tip of the writing utensil into the black muck.
“I have some reports that I have not yet read or signed off on,” he explained, skimming the contents of the first page before scribbling his signature on the bottom. He set it aside for the ink to dry, then began reading the next.
Yona looked back to her stack of books, knowing that she should pick one up, but her desire to investigate any further had suddenly vanished. She looked back to the shelf, then stood to retrieve the book of bird species. She flipped back to the page about the sunrise finch, then slowly walked over to Soo-Won. He glanced up when she approached, then looked down at the open book in her hands.
“Soo-Won… Have you ever seen this bird?” She turned it around so he could see the illustration. He studied it for a moment, then nodded.
“Yes… They actually nest in the palace gardens,” he explained, and looked up when Yona gasped in delight. How had she never known such a gorgeous bird had a home in the plants right outside her window? Well… It wasn’t exactly often that she found herself up before dawn. However, that would soon change. She would wake up first thing tomorrow to catch a glimpse of this bird.
“Thank you. I’ll leave you to your paperwork,” Yona said, then looked down at the bird and its brilliant sunrise plumage. She wondered if it would be as stunning in person. She was sure it would be. The anticipation brought a smile to her face, and so she replaced the book on the shelf. The sooner she got to sleep, the sooner the dawn would come.
Soo-Won spoke as she headed to the door.
“You were crying.”
She stiffened. He had seen? She’d thought she’d been slick. She could feel his aqua eyes boring into her back, making warmth spread all over her back. His stare beckoned her like a siren call; she was helpless to his song, causing her to turn slowly around to face him. His expression wasn’t judgmental, not that she had expected it to be in the first place— it was sad, or guilty, even.
He turned in his chair so he could hold his hand out to her. Entranced by that silent magnetic melody, Yona’s body moved of its own accord; she crossed the room to take his outstretched hand. His touch was soft as his fingers moved over hers, giving just the slightest tug to pull Yona until she was standing in front of him. He reached up with his free hand to brush over the tear stains she’d thought she’d scrubbed away, ghosting over the slightly reddened skin with a heartbroken look.
“How is your shoulder?” Such an innocent question so at odds with the way his fingers skipped down to her shoulder, fingertips inching under her kimono to brush over the skin. She tried not to twitch at the electricity that shot through her nerves. Her body was stunned, electrified by his ministrations, but her tongue seemed to work just fine.
“It’s better.”
He didn’t say anything, just tilted his head while continuing to massage the top of her shoulder. Her heart thumped against her chest as her kimono sleeve slipped fully off her shoulder, exposing her upper arm and even the barest hint of the curve of her breast. Soo-Won’s eyes flickered up to hers, inspecting the minute twitches of her fate for discomfort. He didn’t find any, because why would he? By now, he knew the depths of Yona’s feelings, the way she yearned for his touch despite everything that had happened.
When did his other arm snake around her hips? It had circled around her without her knowing, so she gasped when she felt him pull her forward until she bumped against his knees. He quirked a brow— a silent invitation. She bit down on her lip, debating.
Would any good come from yielding to her desires? She should focus on ferreting out his plans for her kingdom, not yielding to her more base compulsions. Yet as Soo-Won’s aqua eyes met hers, she felt her inhibitions melting away as easily as that silk had slid off her shoulder. With a breath of his name, she climbed onto his lap, pressing every inch of their bodies together that she could. Soo-Won’s hands pushed into her dawn-colored hair with a reverent sigh, prompting her to crane her head back into his palms.
He pressed his mouth to the column of her throat in an open-mouthed kiss. He lingered there for several moments, and then murmured against her skin, “I’m sorry. Ever since we met again, I have caused you pain.”
Yona’s throat bobbed against his lips as she swallowed. Her eyelashes fluttered to fight back the tears, but they came anyway. Soo-Won must have felt the tears dripping down into his hair, because he sat up to press wispy kisses over her ruddying cheeks to catch the salty streams. “My selfishness has caused you pain,” he murmured against her face. “I tried, but… Yona, I love you so…”
“I know,” Yona said with a shuddering breath. “I know. I love you too, Soo-Won, though it vexes me.” She curled her neck so she could bury her face into his hair. She inhaled deeply, and the scent of him flooded her nose— parchment, rose water, and a crisp coolness she could only characterize as moonlight. She wondered if she smelled like the dawn, spicy and warm?
Soo-Won kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder, drawing her out of her thoughts. Just as a small bit of lucidity returned to her, he began a path up her neck and over her chin to claim her lips in a steamy, hungry kiss. Yona perched on his lap while his fingers roved up and down her back, leaving sparks in their wake. She tangled her tongue eagerly with his, and he tasted like cool moonlight, too. Her mind clouded over like it was filled with cotton as heat built up within her, like she was a pot filling with steam.
Just as she felt ready to burst, he pulled away. Cool air rushed through her, chilling the warmth inside of her, and she exhaled shakily. Soo-Won petted her cheek with that sad look on his face again. She still trembled atop him, not sure how to feel. These short, passionate moments between them had become such a regular occurrence that it was hard to feel guilt or shame anymore.
“Soo-Won,” she murmured, and his fine eyelashes fluttered when he looked up at her. They’d just exchanged some very passionate kisses, but she still blushed when she meekly asked, “Would you… Would you show me the sunrise finch tomorrow morning?”
He seemed surprised by her question, his eyes going wide. Then, his face relaxed into a sweet smile.
“I would love to. It has been a while since I’ve seen them myself.”
When Yona prepared to get off him, his hands tightened around her hips.
“Stay?” he asked, quietly, pleadingly. Yona tensed at first, then slowly relaxed when she saw the way he was staring down at his desk— so sadly, so miserably. Yona knew she ought not to, but she draped herself over him anyway, nestling her head on his shoulder. He held her against him with one arm while he turned to resume tending to his documents. Yona closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his chest rising and falling against hers, his heartbeat thumping against her sternum. It didn’t take long for hers to synchronize with his. Lulled by the melody of their tandem breaths and heartbeats, Yona found herself drifting into a comfortable sleep. The dawn would come eventually, and Yona would have to tend again to her priorities. However, for at least a few sweet hours, she would allow herself to bathe in the cool white light of the dusk— in Soo-Won and his deep, unconditional, heart-wrenching love for her.
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
#yonawon#suyona#sooyona#soo-won x yona#soowon x yona#suwon x yona#yona x soowon#yona x soo-won#yona x suwon#yona of the dawn#akatsuki no yona#akayona
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A King’s Doubt
N is trying to take initiative as Team Plasma’s King, but he begins to doubt himself and wonder if this is the path he should be taking.
N sets down a small stack of papers he had been reviewing back on his desk. He’s expected to present a speech to the people of Accumula Town one of these days, so he wants to have it completely memorized.
His Zorua, who had been sleeping by his feet, wakes up and moves away as N gets out of his chair and begins to walk around.
“Zorua, I’m going to take a walk around the castle. Would you like to come with me?”
Zorua takes a few steps, stretches, and curls back up, an obvious no.
N smiles at that, then goes ahead and leaves the room.
The hallways of the castle have always looked the same, and would seem maze-like to anyone unfamiliar with the place.
N is very used to it. He knows the castle like the back of his hand.
Though, he never got used to the claustrophobic feeling the castle holds. The castle is underground, so it always feels like the walls could just close in at any time.
N shivers. It gets pretty cold here, too.
About halfway through his lap of the first floor, he passes a door left half-open. He pays it no mind, until he hears someone mutter his name from within.
“What problem could you possibly have with Lord N?”
Two grunts- Ron and Amelia- are quietly talking to each other.
N, piqued with curiosity, stands outside the door, out of both their potential lines of sight.
“It’s not that I have a problem with him, he’s just...so young! I’m not saying he isn’t capable, he most certainly is, but...is he ready?”
Ron nods. “I have my own doubts about that, but I’m sure Lord Ghetsis knows what he’s doing.”
“Right...Lord Ghetsis.” Amelia doesn’t sound convinced.
N narrows his eyes. What are they saying? I’m right here.
Of course he’s ready for the throne. And even if he wasn’t, it’s not like he has a choice.
Amelia speaks again. “Listen, I joined Team Plasma because I wanted to help Pokemon. I can’t help but feel like this whole separation thing is a weird way to go about it.”
“I...kind of agree. I mean, if we actually accomplish it, we’d have to get rid of our Pokemon too. And...you’re really close with your Venepede, aren’t you?”
“Exactly.”
N fixes his gaze on the carpeted floor.
How could they say such things? Even if you’re close with your Pokemon, it is selfish to restrain its full potential by keeping it for yourself.
...Right?
Frustrated, N is about to just move on, but the further mention of his name keeps him trapped in place.
“You did not hear this from me, but I think Lord N and Lord Ghetsis are a little crazy. Who knows if N really can talk to Pokemon?”
“Well...he has no reason to lie.”
“He has no reason to tell the truth either.”
N clenches his fists. He’s brimming with the urge to say something, but he isn’t sure what. Acting before he can think, he pushes the door open and clears his throat.
The grunts gasp, their faces going pale. “L-Lord N!”
He crosses his arms. “So is that the way you feel?”
Amelia bows, Ron repeating her actions.
“I am very sorry, Lord N!”
“If you wish to say such things, you might as well...say it to our faces, rather than hiding like a coward and speaking behind our...backs.” N speaks quickly as he feels his emotions rising, though he tries to pause to level his voice.
The two grunts keep their eyes down, though their truly remorseful expressions go over N’s head.
“I-I meant nothing by it, truly!”
“I ask you...why is it you are part of Team Plasma if you feel such a way towards our goal- Pokemon liberation?”
The grunts exchange glances, but don’t reply.
N lets out a short breath, startling them.
Amelia bows further, almost at a ninety-degree angle. “I promise it won’t happen again, my King.”
“No...I am not your King anymore.” N steps aside and points out into the hallway. “Get out. Both of you. Leave the castle and never return.”
The two grunts look at each other again, then run out of the room with tears in their eyes.
N doesn’t turn around as they leave, but he begins to pity them as he regains control of his emotions.
He stands alone in the empty room, then begins to fidget with the small cube puzzle hanging from his belt.
“Perhaps...I was too harsh on them.”
…
…
His brow furrows, and it isn’t because of the puzzle’s difficulty.
…
…
“...It appears their doubts have fueled my own.” He pauses, then shakes his head. “I’ll return to my study.”
When N opens the door to his study, oddly enough, Ghetsis- the leader of Team Plasma- is waiting for him.
“Oh, father. I...didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Yes...I’m sure you didn’t.”
His father’s presence alone makes N feel nervous. This is the man who’s done nothing but yell at him his whole life, after all.
“Can I help you?” he forces himself to say. In order to calm himself down, he looks at Zorua, who appears to be curled up but is actually watching Ghetsis carefully.
“Word travels fast between these walls,” Ghetsis says. “One of the Sages told me you kicked two members out of the castle. Is that true?”
“What is the answer you wish to hear?” N replies, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He feels the need to reach for his cube once again, but his fidgeting has only angered Ghetsis in the past, so he doesn’t.
“Don’t be smart with me.” Ghetsis raises his voice, startling N.
N gets away with clenching his fists. “I-I did banish two grunts from the castle, but only because they were saying bad things about us...and sullying the name of Team Plasma.”
Ghetsis remains silent for a few seconds, then nods. “I see.” He raises his hand, and N finches, expecting Ghetsis to hit him.
He’s surprised when Ghetsis gently pats him on the head. He looks up, his eyes showing slight bewilderment.
“I’m proud of you, N.” Ghetsis smiles. Actually smiles. Then without another word, he leaves the room.
N’s gaze lingers on the door, and his hands come up to play with his necklace.
…
…
“Did I really do the right thing?” He isn’t sure if he’s speaking to himself or to Zorua.
Zorua gets up and nudges N’s leg with its head.
He can’t help but smile at it.
He shakes his head. “Father said he was proud of me...yet I do not feel proud of myself.”
He sits back down at his desk to review his speech, that way he could think about something more important, though his thoughts still dwell on this new unsolvable puzzle.
(thanks for reading this far!! i was kinda nervous about posting this here,,)
#pokemon black and white#pokemon n#natural harmonia gropius#pokemon bw#gen 5 pokemon#team plasma#my writing#pokemon fanfiction#short story
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each little specie
in its little way can teach me
what awaits you,
if you can get away
[contains surround sound; best with headphones]
I've been meaning to do a cover of Birds since... jeez, since before I even started this YouTube channel! this arrangement is super simple, but just like the original song, it's awfully beautiful -- and Terrence's voice is vocal GOALS, change my mind. obviously, my piano recital this year was cancelled, but since it would have happened around this time and I still remember performing this as a bonus piece last year, I figured I may as well dust off this sheet music and give it another go. I don't usually record instrumentals live, but now seems like as good a time as any to experiment, you know? *FURIOUSLY IGNORES MY PIANO EXAM COMING UP THIS WEEKEND*
(oh, and @ any of my fellow pianists watching this: I swear I DO actually know how to play properly sometimes too :'00 I don't know what's going on with my wild hand positioning in this video, but i'm gonna chalk it up to the fact that this was the first time I'd played this particular piece in at least half a year -- please cut me some slack lmao)
hopefully, i'll see you soon with more info on that Big Singer Project i posted about all those weeks ago, darlings (if all goes according to plan, my next video will be all about it)! until then, take care.
lyrics and tags under the cut!
I don't want to drive a fancy car today
I don't wanna ride in a red corvette
I don't wanna jog my Saturday away
But I don't wanna go home yet
Today is not the day to jump out of a plane
I don't wanna parasail or play roulette
I don't wanna risk it all or go insane
But I don't wanna go home yet
I just wanna watch the birds go by
From my handy foldable blue canvas throne
I wanna watch them fly and fly
And see them soar up into the unknown
But I’d feel just like a nerd
Watching birds
Watching me here all alone
I don't wanna breakdance or learn taekwondo
I don't wanna fish till all the fish are gone
I don't wanna rollerskate even if it's slow
I don't wanna pass out in a marathon
I don't like soccer, baseball, track or field
I'm not up for a match of polo
I don't wanna seek or try to stay concealed
I'm also not up for... waterpolo?
I just wanna watch the birds up there
Track the migratory patterns that they've flown
I wanna watch them from my chair
With my binoculars, my latte, and my phone
Trying to spot a lark
In the park
Parked in nature all alone
Alone here with the doves
And the sparrows, and the ospreys
The owlets, the egrets, and my list
It's just me and Mr. Finch
The robins, the king fishers, the snipes
Though I heard they don't exist
Each little specie
In its little way can teach me what awaits you
If you can get away
I wanna watch
The birds do what they will
Sorry if I'm ornithologically prone
I wanna watch from somewhere undisturbing
Quiet, calm, still
Sit right here and gaze at the unknown
I don't wanna fly
In the sky
I just wanna be alone
(It's not a big deal or anything...)
I just wanna be alone
General: @surleytemple @icecoldparadise @lyditist @fandom-random2405 @beach-fan @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @starryeyedhomicide @unring-this-bell @flix-net @pheonix-inside @thelowlysatsuma @residentanchor @sanderstalker @kazykazu @theres-no-winning-on-christmas
Music: @soijusthavetoask @average--human @lovingiseasy-434 @nonbeenary-enbee
Let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from either tag list!
#thomas sanders#ultimate storytime#sanders sides#singing#music#q2queue#spec made something#spectral sings
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Birds
A/N: Here’s a quick little fic I did for @sugarglider9603‘s Mario AU. This is the first time I’ve done a song fic, so I hope I didn’t screw up.
Thanks to his best friend, Roman, Patton had finally managed to finish the garden he was growing behind his castle. The prince was walking through it while he was waiting for Logan to arrive, and positioned himself on a blanket under a tree. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the urge to sing a song that he had written a while back. He’d only ever sang it once with a piano, as a gift for Logan. He didn’t sing a capella very often. He prefered to be accompanied by a piano, unlike Roman, who would sing whether he was accompanied or not, but there was just something about being in the peaceful garden that made him want to sing. He looked around a bit before clearing his throat.
“I don't want to drive a fancy car today. I don't wanna ride in a red corvette. I don't wanna jog my Saturday away, but I don't wanna go home yet.”
A few butterflies flew around him before landing on some flowers.
“Today is not the day to jump out of a plane. I don't wanna parasail or play roulette. I don't wanna risk it all or go insane, but I don't wanna go home yet.”
He saw a few birds fly overhead and a few more in the trees.
“I just wanna watch the birds go by. From my handy foldable blue canvas throne. I wanna watch them fly and fly, and see them soar up into the unknown”
He smiled a bit watching the birds above him
“But I feel just like a nerd, watching birds, watching me here all alone.”
He thought about his best friend, Prince Roman, as he remembered the next verse of the song.
“I don't wanna break dance or learn taekwondo. I don't wanna fish till all the fish are gone. I don't wanna rollerskate even if it's slow. I don't wanna pass out in a marathon. I don't like soccer, baseball, track or field. I'm not up for a match of polo. I don't wanna seek or try to stay concealed. I'm also not up for water polo.”
The young prince looked at the many birds that were around his garden.
“I just wanna watch the birds up there. Track the migratory patterns that they've flown. I wanna watch them from my chair, with my binoculars, my latte, and my phone.”
The prince laughed a little knowing he didn’t have those items.
“Trying to spot a lark, in the park, parked in nature all alone. Alone here with the doves. And the sparrows, and the ospreys, the owlets, the egrets, and my list. It's just me and Mr. Finch. The robins, the king fishers, the snipes, though I heard they don't exist.”
Logan had arrived at the castle and was looking around for his boyfriend, a Talyn telling him where he was. He headed out to the garden, hearing the prince’s singing and smiled some.
“Each little specie, In its little way can teach me what awaits you If you can get away. I wanna watch the birds do what they will, Sorry if I'm ornithologically prone. I wanna watch from somewhere undisturbing, quiet, calm, still, sit right here and gaze at the unknown.”
Logan knew the song was nearly over and knew exactly what he was going to do.
“I don't wanna fly, in the sky. I just wanna be alone-”
“It's not a big deal, or anything.” The plumber had interrupted him, getting the prince’s attention, who then ran into his arms smiling and gave him a kiss before he continued his song.
“I just wanna be alone.”
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. The song is “Birds”, which is sang by Terrence on Thomas Sanders’ "The Ultimate Storytime” album. If you haven’t heard it, I highly recommend you do
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Thought: So my favourite song is Birds by Thomas Sanders from the Ultimate Storytime, and it's amazing, I love it, but what if it was with a New York accent?
I don't want to drive a fancy car today
I don't wanna ride in a red corvette
I don't wanna jog my Saturday away
But I don't wanna go home yet
Today is not the day to jump out of a plane
I don't wanna parasail or play roulette
I don't wanna risk it all or go insane
But I don't wanna go home yet
I just wanna watch the BOIDS go by
From my handy foldable blue canvas throne
I wanna watch them fly and fly
And see them soar up into the unknown
But I feel just like a nerd
Watching BOIDS
Watching me here all alone
I don't wanna breakdance or learn taekwondo
I don't wanna fish till all the fish are gone
I don't wanna rollerskate even if it's slow
I don't wanna pass out in a marathon
I don't like soccer, baseball, track or field
I'm not up for a match of polo
I don't wanna seek or try to stay concealed
I'm also not up for waterpolo
I just wanna watch the BOIDS up there
Track the migratory patterns that they've flown
I wanna watch them from my chair
With my binoculars, my chai latte, and my phone
Trying to spot a lark
In the park
Parked in nature all alone
Alone here with the doves
And the sparrows, and the ospreys
The owlets, the egrets, and my list
It's just me and Mr. Finch
The robins, the king fishers, the snipes
Though I heard they don't exist
Each little specie
In its little way can teach me what awaits you
If you can get away
I wanna watch
The BOIDS do what they will
Sorry if I'm ornithologically prone
I wanna watch from somewhere undisturbing
Quiet, calm, still
Sit right here and gaze at the unknown
I don't wanna fly
In the sky
I just wanna be alone
It's not a big deal, or anything
I just wanna be alone
@thatsthat24
#I don't know what this is#but it makes me laugh#Boids#thomas sanders#The ultimate story time#New York
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@thatsthat24 - Thomas Sanders
OH MAN
So you know how I set up my recording equipment today? I did this! I don’t remember when I started whoops. This is just me and my ukulele, and a little bit of audio editing. My computer glitched out and I almost lost it in the middle of recording and OH MAN this has been a rollercoaster. But here, enjoy! Lyrics under the cut.
Lyrics
I don’t want to drive a fancy car today
I don’t wanna ride in a red corvette
I don’t wanna jog my Saturday away
But I don’t wanna go home yet
Today is not the day to jump out of a plane
I don’t wanna parasail or play roulette
I don’t wanna risk it all or go insane
But I don’t wanna go home yet
I just wanna watch the birds fly by
From my handy foldable blue canvas throne
I wanna watch them fly and fly
And see them soar up into the unknown
But I feel just like a nerd
Watching birds
Watching me here all alone
I don’t wanna breakdance or learn taekwondo
I don’t wanna fish till all the fish are gone
I don’t wanna rollerskate even if it’s slow
I don’t wanna pass out in a marathon
I don’t like soccer, baseball, track or field
I’m not up for a match of polo
I don’t wanna seek or try to stay concealed
I’m also not up for waterpolo
I just wanna watch the birds up there
Track the migratory patterns that they’ve flown
I wanna watch them from my chair
With my binoculars, my latte, and my phone
Trying to spot a lark
In the park
Parked in nature all alone
Alone here with the doves
And the sparrows, and the ospreys
The owlets, the egrets, and my list
It’s just me and Mr. Finch
The robins, the king fishers, the snipes
Though I heard they don’t exist
Each little specie
In its little way can teach me what awaits you
If you can get away
I wanna watch
The birds do what they will
Sorry if I’m ornithologically prone
I wanna watch from somewhere undisturbing
Quiet, calm, still
Sit right here and gaze at the unknown
I don’t wanna fly
In the sky
I just wanna be alone
It’s not a big deal, or anything
I just wanna be alone
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Harry Potter meets DragonBall Z
More than a dozen white candles magically floating in the air, provided light for the vast Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The flames of torches danced cheerfully in round brackets held by gargoyle statues set in the walls. The tall cathedral-like glass windows would provide more light if it were daytime, but now it showed glimpses of the night sky. However, no one was paying attention to the outside world. Instead, students of many ages were seated at four long wooden tables, chatting loudly with one another and eating their dinners. Toward the back of the room, teachers and staff sat at another long table that allowed them to view the entire hall. The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was sitting on a golden chair in the middle that looked more like a triangular throne. He wore glasses and had a long snow-white beard that almost glowed in the light. He gave a warm smile when he saw the new students enter the hall.
The young witches and wizards stared at their surroundings, with agape expressions on their faces. This was especially true for the ones who had no experience with the magical world like their so called "pureblood" peers. It was often harder for those muggles born to non-magical parents to get into Hogwarts, partly because the staff and the Ministry of Magic wanted to keep all evidence of the magical world a secret from the regular "muggle" citizens. Yet, whether it was by luck, or unusual circumstances, here they were, about to get an education of a lifetime.
All the new students entering were dressed in black wizard’s robes, long dark capes, and pointed hats. Some of the people at the Slytherin table whispered nasty jokes about beating freshman up to each other. On the other hand, a pair of Gryffindors waved to them and gave them a thumbs up. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws merely stared at them politely.
An owl-shaped podium stood at the center of the room between the four tables and the staff table. A stool was placed in front of the podium and n that stool lay an old brown pointed hat. An older witch in long emerald green robes and a black pointed hat stood beside the objects: Professor McGonagall. Behind her glasses, her eyes observed the students as if searching for any flaws. In this moment, she accepted that the students would eventually learn the transfiguration spells and essential skills required for success later on in life. After all as head of the valorous house of Gryffindor, she had high expectations for all the students.
She stared a bit longer than necessary observing six strangers that seemed to be out of place. For one, they were taller and looked older than the eleven-year olds next to them. They were, in fact adults, who had used their powers that had accidentally led them to the magical world. In addition, she noticed that most of them had an unfamiliar vibe about them. Sure, she had heard or seen her fair share of humans, dragons, werewolves, and other magical creatures in her life. Yet, although the spiky-haired men standing before her looked very much like humans, there was something about them that seemed...almost alien.
McGonagall turned her head to look at a tall half-giant Hagrid, who was standing by the wall. Her eyes bore into his head and Hagrid knew from the look on her face what she was communicating. 'How did you come across these strange people? Why did you bring them here?! There is something strange about them and I can't put my finger on it.'
Hagrid suddenly seemed interested in combing his thick brown beard with his large fingers, even though it would still look messy. Before she could speak to him, the tattered sorting hat came to life and opened its mouth. The sorting ceremony had begun. Without warning, the hat began to sing:
"I may not look like much at first
But appearances can deceive
For I have lived for many years
More knowledge than you can conceive
Long ago four sorcerers met
They wanted to teach the young
A school was built, a curriculum made
Hogwarts School had begun
The first of the founders
Was the mighty Gryffindor
Who praised courage and honor
And those with great valor
The second one was Hufflepuff
Loyal, devoted, and kind
She accepted those of any skill
No one left behind
Intelligence was a prerequisite
For the house of Ravenclaw
Knowledge is greater than power
Stupidity as a flaw
Cunning and determination
Were qualities of proud Slytherin
Only those from magical families
Could be assured to join and win
Though these differences make us unique
We all learn under one school
To think that the houses should fight
Would make one a great fool
Try me on and I will say
Which house best fits you
No matter who you are, give it your all
There's always work to do."
The room burst into clapping as the hat finished its song. McGonagall cleared her throat and began the ceremony. She held out a scroll that had the names of the students on it. "When I call your name," she stated, "You will come forth. I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses."
She called out the first name, "Abbott, Hannah." A girl with blonde pigtails walked up to the stool and sat down. After a moment, the sorting hat declared, "Hufflepuff!" The center right table clapped for Hannah as she made her way to meet her new peers.
"Bones, Susan," read McGonagall.
"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted.
"Boot, Terry."
"Ravenclaw!" The table to the far right clapped this time.
McGonagall paused at the next name before saying, "Briefs, Bulma."
A woman with short blue hair stepped forward. At several of the tables, groups of boys snickered and giggles at hearing her name. One glare in their direction from Bulma silenced them immediately.
The sorting hat was so large that it covered her eyes. Without hesitation, the hat shouted "Ravenclaw!" Bulma smiled and waved as she walked down to join the Ravenclaws. She was rather curious about how these people were able to harness magic power from wands. She hoped that she could find out how magic worked and how it was stored inside the wands.
"Brown, Lavender" became the first Gryffindor and received a flurry of cheers from the center left table.
The next person, "Bulstrode, Millicent" was sorted into Slytherin, and made her way to the table at the far left. A red-haired boy whispered to a boy with glasses and a familiar scar on his forehead, "There's no witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin."
"Chi-Chi," read McGonagall. Another woman stepped forward, wearing her black robes over her lavender dress and white apron. "Do you have a last name by any chance?” asked McGonagall, with suspicion. “Not that I know of," she replied. "Everyone just calls me Chi-Chi." She pushed a strand of black hair from her face.
McGonagall was about to speak again when Chi-Chi interrupted, "Can we just get this sorting ceremony thing over with?!" One of the men waiting to be sorted, visibly flinched.
Wasting no time, Chi-Chi got on the stool and placed the hat on her head. 'Loving, maternal, and might I say, quite a fiery temper'," mentioned the hat. 'You can read my mind?' asked Chi-Chi. 'Yes. I have existed for hundreds of years, ever since the four founders were alive. Hmm...this is quite a difficult decision to make...' Finally, the hat settled on "Gryffindor!"
Chi-Chi breathed a sigh of relief and made her way to the Gryffindor table.
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin" then became the next Hufflepuff.
"Gohan," read McGonagall. A young man came forward, with a small nervous smile on his face. He wore an orange gi underneath his black robes. He had spiky black hair, black eyes and a hair strand hanging near his forehead. With the sorting hat on his head, the hat began to speak. 'You have lots of courage, young man, and you are pure of heart as well. You also seem to enjoy spending time studying, yes?' Gohan nodded. With all the strange things he had encountered in times of battle, he was not too surprised at the prospect of a talking, mind-reading hat. 'A combination of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. How about...Gryffindor!" Gohan smiled and walked toward the Gryffindor table after McGonagall took the hat.
"Goku," McGonagall read. "Yes, yes that's me!" called one of the strangers, waving his hand in the air. He was the tallest person of the group, with black spiked hair that went in different directions, slightly star shaped. His eyes were black like Gohan's and he had a strong muscular physique. He walked up and sat on the stool. 'Well this is interesting,' said the hat to Goku. 'You have a natural inclination to fight and achieve your goals. Plenty of bravery I see, not a bad mind...wait what exactly happened to your mind?'
After a brief pause, Goku remembered the event from his past. "Oh yeah, I was told that I hit my head when I was a baby. I think that is it. How can you read my mind?!" It hadn't occurred to him that he was talking out loud. Several of the students laughed quietly which was followed by the loud thud of Chi-Chi’s fit hitting the table. "Make fun of my husband again, and you won't be able to laugh again for a while!"
'Anyway,' the hat continued. 'Had you fulfilled your original destiny and completed your...distressing mission, I would say Slytherin would be the best choice...' "No don't!" said Goku. "I don't want to be sorted with the bad guys!" More laughter from the crowd. 'I'll assure you that not all Slytherins are evil...' said the hat, but Goku wasn't listening anymore. "Okay then, Gryffindor!" shouted the hat. "Yes!" exclaimed Goku, raising his fist in the air, and running to the Gryffindor table, sitting next to Chi-Chi.
"Goten" read McGonagall. A boy with similar black hair and black eyes came forward. "Let me guess, no last name?" she asked. "Nope," said Goten. He sat down on the stool, the hat completely covering his face.
"And let me guess, you will be sorted into..."
"Gryffindor!" shouted the hat, and Goten ran happily to meet Goku and Gohan. "So many Gryffindors and so many G names. And I thought the Weasley's had this pattern of being sorted into Gryffindor," thought McGonagall.
"Granger, Hermione," called McGonagall. A girl with bushy brown hair came up to the front and sat on the stool. After a moment, the sorting hat shouted "Gryffindor!" She smiled and joined her peers, earning a groan from Ron, the red-haired boy. After Neville Longbottom was sorted into Gryffindor, he ran to the table, accidentally wearing the hat. McGonagall had to take it off his head and continue the ceremony.
"Malfoy, Draco." A blonde-haired boy came forward, with a smug look on his face. "Slytherin!" the hat shouted at once. Malfoy joined the Slytherins at the far left, pleased with the outcome.
"Potter, Harry!"
The dark-haired boy with green eyes and glasses stepped forward. The hat was soon over his eyes and he heard a small voice in his ear. 'Hmm, difficult, very difficult, plenty of courage, I see, not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh yes, and a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?' 'Not Slyhterin, not Slytherin,' Harry whispered.
'Not Slytherin, eh?' asked the hat. 'Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It's all here in your head. And Slyhterin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that. No? Well if you're sure...Better be...Gryffindor!"
The thunderous cheers, overpowered Harry's sigh of relief. The red-haired Weasley twins yelled "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Dumbledore smiled and winked at Harry.
After, "Thomas, Dean" was made a Gryffindor, McGonagall called out the name, "Trunks." The students looked in confusion as a man with short purple hair came up to the front. His hand almost instinctively went to his back, where he usually kept his sword in a scabbard. The hat was soon on his head. 'Brave, dedicated, somewhat reckless,' said the hat. 'I never thought I would encounter this in my life,' Trunks thought. 'But you are devoted to serving the greater good. You are loyal to your loved ones and will do anything to protect them. In that case...”Hufflepuff!"
'Not a good as Gryffindor, but I suppose it could be worse,' Trunks thought to himself. He joined the students at the center right table, who welcomed him and asked questions about his hair.
Ron Weasley came up next. The hat shouted "Gryffindor!" and a grinning Ron went to sit next to Harry.
"Vegeta," called McGonagall. The stranger in question had tall spiky black hair, dark eyes and thick eyebrows. He wore a blue shirt, blue pants and chest armor under the black robes. He resisted the urge to take the robe off. His arms were folded and he had a scowl on his face. It was obvious that he did not want to waste his time being here. The fact that the old witch didn't address him by his title was all the more infuriating.
"For your information, I am the Prince of Saiyans Vegeta-sama. All of you should not forget that." "If you're royalty," called Malfoy. "Then can you tell me if both of your parents are magical? Or, do you even have parents, like Potter over there?" This elected angry looks from both individuals. In Vegeta's case, however, the anger was more apparent. "You dare have the nerve to mock me like that? I come from a lineage of powerful warriors, more powerful and noble than your so called "elite" families. How about I show you my power right here right now!"
The air around Vegeta began to heat up. Vegeta clenched his fists as sparks of lighting began to appear around him. His hair turned golden for a moment, then changed back to black. Malfoy stared impassively at him, while the others around him flinched back in disbelief.
"What kind of magic is he using?' asked one person.
"I don't know, but I think it's awesome!" stated another.
"Stupify!" chanted McGonagall. A jet of red light shot from her wand and stunned Vegeta. Seconds later, Vegeta unfroze and continued powering up.
"Somebody do something!" called Goten.
Goku ran up to Vegeta and held him back. "Get off me, Kakarot!" he spat, trying to push him off his shoulders. 'You have to stop this Vegeta! The giant guy was being nice because we had magic powers that could help save this world!" "This world is not of concern to me, and neither should it be yours" he said.
"Vegeta, you start behaving yourself right now!" called a voice. Vegeta turned and saw his wife Bulma glaring at him. "Listen here, woman!" he said, "I was defending my honor and telling this brat..."
"You don't need to tell him anything!" she called. "Stop making things worse and settle down."
"I don't even know why I am here in the first place," he said.
"Well the sooner you behave, the sooner we can leave and you can continue your training without interference."
Vegeta seemed to consider this. With a deep sigh, he powered down and marched toward the stool. At the moment the hat touched his head, it screamed "Slytherin!" "Figures," said Vegeta as he made his way to the far left table.
"Nice work Mom!" called Trunks. "I'm used to it," she mentioned, clearly relieved that no one got hurt.
Finally, "Zabini, Blaise" was made a Slytherin and McGonagall took the hat away. Just then, another stranger ran down the hall at the last minute. His face was scared and his long black hair was tied back. He wore an orange gi, a blue shirt and tennis shoes. He was panting heavily as he reached the front. "Sorry I'm late. I couldn't find my baseball and I was busy talking to my friends about my skills in my last baseball game. He looked over to the friends in question: two Hufflepuff girls who were blushing and giggling. McGonagall, however, was not impressed. "I have had a long busy day and you decide to arrive just before the meal started. You're not even wearing your robe. "I must have...misplaced it?" he asked. Indeed, the robe had been small and uncomfortably tight on him and as a result, he had resorted to taking it off, and leaving it on the train by mistake.
"You're name wasn't on the list either, so I would advise you to leave."
"Come on!" Yamcha groaned. "How am I supposed to know which house fits me?"
After a moment McGonagall says, "I reckon the hat would say Hufflepuff, but you will have to wait another time to get sorted."
"No thanks, I think I'll stay here,” Yamcha countered. “Now where is the Hufflepuff table?"
Yamcha looked around and then spotted Bulma. "Oh, h-hey Bulma!" he stuttered while Bulma gave him a look of disgust. "I'll ask you one more time, leave now or face the consequences," ordered McGonagall.
Yamcha decided instead to summon up some of his powers. "Wolf Fang Fist!" he cried. The outline of a wolf in energy form moved through the air in McGonagall’s direction. The students waited with bated breath at the scene before them.
"Protego maxima!" chanted McGonagall. A sphere of light blue energy appeared around McGonagall and spread around the room. The force was so powerful that it knocked Yamcha back, and sent him flying out of the hall and down the stairs with a yelp. "So long, loser!" shouted Vegeta and everyone around him laughed. Meanwhile, Yamcha was curled up at the bottom of the stairs, stunned, but still very much alive. He slowly picked himself up. "Jeez, these people are so mean!" He then saw a brown toad hoping toward him. "Hey, I found a small brown toad here!" he yelled from outside. As people mentioned the toad, Neville exclaimed, "Trevor!" He ran down the hall to retrieve his pet, ignoring the laughter that followed.
After Dumbledore gave a speech about classes, Quidditch, and how the dark forest was forbidden, he announced, "Let the feast begin." Piles of turkey, potatoes, vegetables, and other goodies appeared on the golden plates in front of them. Everyone dug in to eat, but no one ate with as much gusto as the Saiyans. Goku's eyes grew as wide as saucers and he began to stuff food messily into his mouth. Some of the students looked at him in disgust, but Gohan mentioned casually, "He does that all the time."
At the Hufflepuff table, Chi-Chi savored the taste of the food. "My, this is delicious stuff. I wonder where I can find the recipes for this dinner. It would certainly make my husband happy." At the Ravenclaw table, Bulma was busy explaining how cell phones work and was asking why she can't use technology at Hogwarts. "Technology interferes with magic," a fourth-year boy explained. "The only way to communicate with the outside world is by owl." "But that's so old-fashioned, though," she argued. "If I could make some sort of device to channel the magic and allow people to text, maybe it could work." "But we are not allowed to do that," he stated. "I would like to try at least."
"But the muggles could access text messages and know about the magical world!" he said.
"That would explain the reason," she said. Gears were already turning in her head, even though she stayed silent.
Hours later, everyone was stuffed and satisfied, save for Goku who was still eating. "Dad, you have chowed down on six plates already! Haven't you had enough?" "Nope," he replied. "Food keeps reappearing on the plates. It's one of the greatest things I have ever witnessed!" Hermione was thinking of the poor house elves working themselves down in the kitchen. Dumbledore swiped his hand and Goku's plate was wiped clean. "Aww, man!" he grumbled in disappointment.
Later on, all the students shuffled out of the hall and followed the prefects to their respective dorms. The Gryffindor prefect was Percy Weasley, a tall slender individual with glasses. He had a professional demeanor to him, quite the opposite of his fun-loving trickster brothers Fred and George. “Follow me, everyone,” he called. “The Gryffindor dormitory is up through here. Oh and keep an eye on the staircases, they like to change.” Some of the students looked up when they entered the next room and could see what Percy was talking about. Up above were dozens of staircases that were moving on their own. Some led to roadblocks, doors disguised as walls while some had disappearing stairs that could surprise unknown travelers.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what kind of torturous trap is this?!” Everyone turned to stare at Gohan, who had asked the question. “What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” asked Percy. “For one thing,” Gohan explained. “Do you expect these students and us to casually walk these stairs without fear of falling to our deaths?” “We can fly,” Goten mentioned. “We just hold onto the rails and wait for the stair to stop moving,” Percy explained.
“Also,” Gohan continued. “What about the poor students who can’t walk or can’t see? It would take hours to push wheelchairs that you humans use up those things!”
“Well, with a few levitation spells, it’s not that big of a deal…” Percy started, but Gohan cut in. “Again, the falling to one’s death part, not to mention being late to class due to some faulty mumbo-jumbo development!”
“That’s how this school was made!” Percy argued. “It will remain that way for many years more and that’s the way it is.”
“Why not change it up?” asked Goten. “That would be a great idea!” added Goku. Several of the students nodded their heads in a new excited agreement. Others looked tired and somewhat fearful of the strange men in their group. “Can we just go up to the dorm?” asked Percy. “It’s been a long day and I have Ministry paperwork that I need to help fill out…”
Out of nowhere, Percy got hit in the face with a splash of water. A blur of color and mischievous laughter followed. “Peeves!” Percy bellowed. “I don’t have time for this!” The poltergeist hovered in front of the first year students, wearing a bright red bow tie, stripped leggings, a hat with bells and a shirt of neon colors. “Ickle firsties, what fun!” he declared with an evil grin. He pelted more water balloons at the students who docked and covered their heads in fear. Peeves laughed some more as he threw a stink bomb in the middle of the crowd. Everyone coughed loudly and held their noses. “That’s enough, you bully!” yelled Goten, between coughs. He raised himself into the air and waved his hand. White spirit clones of Goten appeared in front of him and flew directly at Peeves. His laughter turned to shock as he swatted at the ghosts. “Get them off, get them off!” he cried as he flew away, knocking portraits slightly off their hinges.
The students cheered and looked awestruck at Goten, who came back down to the ground. Percy stared into space like he had just witnessed a vivid hallucination. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Okay then, no more tricks tonight. Everyone hurry up and follow me.” “We can fly, though” Goten mentioned again. This time, some of the students came up to him curiously.
“Can you take us up there?”
“How can you fly without a broom?”
“Where did you learn how to do your spell?”
“Calm down everyone,” said Goten. “Let’s see how we can get you up there.”
“We?” one student asked.
“Goku, Gohan and myself,” Goten explained.
While Harry, Ron, Hermione and some other students had already started to follow Percy up the stairs, several other students stayed behind with the Saiyans. “Climb onto my back and hold on tight,” said Goku. Several students could fit on Goku’s back as well as Gohan’s. Gohan and Goku held the students by their robes in each hand.
Goten came back moments later flying on a small yellow cloud. “This is called a nimbus,” he explained. “It’s how my family gets around without having to use cars.” “Is it like the Nimbus 2000?” asked a student. “Not sure what that is, but I guess so,” said Goten. The nimbus was big enough to fit two other students. Soon enough, all the students were ready to go…most of them anyway. “I’m scared,” a young girl with brown whimpered. “You’ll be fine,” Gohan reassured her. “I won’t let you fall.”
“Is everyone ready?” asked Goku. “Yes!” answered the students. “Hold on, here we go!” said Goku. Goten lead the way, maneuvering the yellow cloud under and over the staircases. Gohan and Goku flew after him, the students holding on tight. “This is awesome!” shouted a young boy on Goku’s back.
Percy stood with his mouth open slightly as he watched them fly. “Hey, where’s the entrance?” asked Gohan. “Seventh floor portrait to the far right,” he replied. “Look for a woman in a pink dress.” The three Saiyans regrouped in the air close to the seventh floor. “I think it’s over there!” said Goten, pointing to a staircase that led to a portrait of a fat woman in a pink silk dress. “Good eye,” said Gohan. The students were gently placed in front of the portrait with grins on their faces. The other students jumped off Goku’s and Gohan’s backs. “Wow, thank you so much!” said the brown haired girl, who had been nervous before. “No problem,” said Goku. “Hey, why ride on brooms when we can ride on the yellow nimbus or these guys in the next Quiddich match?” said one of the students. “That would be fun to watch,” another student agreed.
Finally, Percy and the rest of the group came up the stairs, much more exhausted than the others. Percy shook his head, not even looking at the Saiyans.
“Password?” asked the Fat Lady.
“Caput Draconis,” stated Percy.
The portrait swung open to reveal a small tunnel. “Follow me,” said Percy and the students shuffled in. They entered a circular round cozy room with comfortable armchairs by a fireplace. The boys’ dormitories were to the right and girls’ were to the left. All the belongings of the students were already set up in the bedrooms.
Surprisingly, there were extra spare boys’ bedrooms that were at the top of the stairs that were saved for seventh years as well as storage. Three beds were already made for Goten, Gohan, and Goku. “I love this place,” said Goten with excitement. “Me too,” said Goku, rubbing Goten’s head affectionately. “It is a good place to visit,” said Gohan. “But we really should find a way back to our world. Frieza has gathered another army as far as I know. He could attack at any time!”
“It’ll be fine!” Goku reassured them. “I beat him several times and I can do it again.”
“Whatever you say,” said Gohan.
Off toward the west side of the castle, another prefect was leading the new Ravenclaw students up the stairs. Bulma marveled at the sheer size of the castle, but her legs were getting tired from walking up the stairs. She made a mental note to learn how to install an elevator beside the great hall or starting, perhaps, at the lowest floor. They finally arrived at the top of the stairs and stopped in front of a wooden door with a bronze eagle doorknocker. “Why are we waiting?” asked a boy after a pause. To answer his question, the bronze eagle suddenly moved, its eyes glowing white. From the open beak, the eagle spoke a riddle:
“The more of me you have
The longer your life
The more of me you have,
The less you have left.
What am I?”
The group stared in confused silence. The prefect observed the students. “You have to answer the riddle correctly to enter,” he explained. “We don’t have passwords like the other Houses do.”
“It could be money?” suggested a red-haired girl.
“What if it’s not a simple as that?” asked a boy next to her.”
“Money can help you live longer due to access to resources…” she pondered.
“But it’s not the same for everyone,” the boy mentioned.
“I need to use the bathroom,” another boy pleaded.
“Anyone want to give it a go?” asked the prefect. He asked the doorknocker what it was and the riddle was repeated.
Bulma started breathing heavily from going up the stairs. She took several deep breaths trying to figure out the riddle and calm herself from a feeling of impatience. She quieted her mind, only hearing the sound of her breaths…wait a minute!
Bulma stepped to the front and answered, “You are breaths of oxygen.”
“Exceptional answer,” replied the doorknocker. The eyes dimmed and the door creaked open. The prefect led the way to the center of the room, and Bulma let out a small gasp.
A wide circular room appeared before them, decorated by blue and bronze silks hanging from high pillars. Bookcases were everywhere and it gave the impression of the room as a small library. The ceiling was painted midnight blue with white stars so that it looked like the night sky. Up ahead, there stood a white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing her diadem on her head. “Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,” were inscribed on the crown. Bulma looked out the window and had a spectacular view of the mountains. In her mind, she hoped that the citizens in her world were doing alright.
“Follow me, young Hufflepuffs!” called the prefect, an older student with curly blond hair. The line of students followed the prefect like a flock of nervous ducklings. At the very back of the line, Trunks awkwardly walked along, towering over everyone else. When the group started to make their way down the stairs to the dungeons, Trunks was tempted to pull out his sword in case danger decided to come from them. Then again, he didn’t want to startle the students on their first day at Hogwarts. The prefect was describing the famous witches and wizards in the portraits on the walls, but Trunks wasn’t paying attention. In fact, he felt like a chaperone looking after kids at a museum. It was true that he didn’t mind being around children, he just wanted less drawling from the prefect and more brawling outside. ‘Why am I even here?’ he asked himself. ‘Conton city could be in trouble as we speak and I am not over there to protect it!’
“Lumos,” said the prefect. A white circular light appeared from the tip of her wand. It provided enough light for everyone to see what was in front of them, but not what was around them. They appeared to be walking down a dark hallway, portraits decorating the stone walls on either side. One of the students let out a pained grunt and the sound of rattling armor was heard. A young boy had accidently bumped into a suit of armor standing against the left wall. At once, the prefect pointed her wand at the fallen student. Surprisingly, the suit of armor was still erect. “Are you okay?” asked another student, helping the boy up. “Yes, I’m fine,” he replied, rubbing his elbow. “It’s so hard to see in the dark.” With a relieved sigh, the prefect continued on her way, the students walking behind her.
In the darkness, a faint rattling was heard. “What was that?” a student asked. On instinct, Trunks unsheathed his sword. The students around him stepped back. “It’s alright everyone,” said Trunks. “I’m not going to hurt you. Now let’s all stay together so…” A loud cackle interrupted his sentence. The leering face of Peeves appeared from the darkness. “Oooh, more ickle firsties! How delightful!” “Go away, Peeves,” growled the prefect. Peeves replied with a blowing raspberry and an icy swoop over the heads of the students.
Among the small shrieks, Trunks glared at Peeves. “I am Trunks, the Super Saiyan, and I demand that you leave at once.” “A tall student, making up names? That’s hilarious!” Peeves cackled. He tugged on Trunk’s long purple hair and dodged a swipe of Trunk’s sword. Peeves turned around and wiggled his butt in the air. “Trunks, such a funny name! I have trunks of my own,” he said, revealing a pair of red boxers. “Get out of here, or I’ll call the Bloody Baron!” called the prefect. “Oh, is that going to stop me?” he asked. “This might,” Trunks replied, firing balls of yellow light at the mischievous spirit. Peeves dodged all the blasts and disappeared hollering in the darkness. “Always have to keep an eye out for Peeves,” the prefect mentioned, calming down the students.
The group continued down the dungeons, which were surprisingly warm instead of cold. A delicious smell reached Trunk’s nostrils. He was starting to get slightly hungry, even though he had just eaten. The students and Trunks caught a glimpse of the kitchens through an open arched doorway. House elves with long pointed ears were busy washing the dishes from the feast and stacking pots and pans into a row of empty cabinets of polished wood. Some were helping themselves to leftovers. Trunks made a mental note to not let Goku know the location of the place.
Finally, they arrived at the entrance to the common room. Instead of a door, they stopped at a pile of brown barrels stacked on top of each other. “What’s the password?” asked a student. “There is none per say,” replied the prefect. “You have to tap the barrels in a certain order to get in. If you don’t…”
Trunks swung his sword and sliced the middle row of barrels in half. Suddenly, a big burst of vinegar shot out and hit Trunks right in the face. He yelled and covered his eyes, stumbling backwards. Several of the students laughed.
“…then that will happen,” the prefect finished.
“What in kami’s name was that for?” Trunks asked, rubbing his eyes. “That was the system for warding off intruders,” said the prefect, giving him a disapproving look. “Sorry,” said Trunks.
“Now everyone watch me,” said the prefect. She tapped the barrels two from the bottom, middle of the second row in the rhythm of “Helga Hufflepuff.’ The round door swung open, revealing the common room. Trunks stepped inside and was impressed at his surroundings. The basement was earthy, with a low ceiling and cozy armchairs draped in yellow and black. The room was decorated with vines, hanging plants, and yellow hangings. A portrait of Helga Hufflepuff was hung above a copper mantle place with badgers carved into it. Round windows let in sunshine during the day, but at the moment, it allowed a brief view of the stars above.
Trunks followed the boys trough a rounded barrel shaped door to the boys’ dormitory. He entered a room where beds with yellow and black hangings and quilts were arranged in a circle. Trunks stood still and placed two fingers against his forehead. He closed his eyes and focused on his home. After a moment, he focused again. “What are you doing?” asked a curious student. Trunks opened his eyes and lowered his fingers. “This is, um…new meditation practice. To help with school stress.” “Cool,” said the student who then walked over to join his friends. Trunks let out a soft sigh. The instant transmission should have worked. He heard from another student that most people could not apparate in and out of Hogwarts, save for the headmaster. Trunks wasn’t sure what the word meant, but he assumed that it was the same as instant transmission. He considered teaching this method to the fellow students someday. ‘Maybe if I adapt to the situation a bit longer,’ thought Trunks, ‘I might be able to figure out how to get home. Where’s a time machine when you need it?’
Meanwhile, the Slytherin students were making their way through the dungeons. Torches in the wall provided circles of light that did not match up to the oppressive darkness. Vegeta’s white ki mocked the darkness, daring it to try and consume him and the students. He was not pleased at the fact that they were in a dark damp place, rather than any kind of royal chamber. Reluctantly, he followed the students and the prefect, arms crossed, his face in a scowl. He heard some of the students whispering about him, some staring at his spiky black hair and widow’s peak. He had to restrain himself from throwing punches. The cold dungeon air was chilly even for him, but Vegeta ignored the feeling, not wanting to show any weakness.
At last, the prefect stopped in front of a slab of a stone wall. “Pureblood,” he said. The slab of wall opened, revealing the common room. The common room was under the great lake, was dungeon-like and was furnished with black leather furniture and green lamps hanging from the ceiling. Vegeta admired the snake carvings above the fireplace. For a moment, he wondered if the witches and wizards would help him conjure a snake to kill Kakarot or Frieza. He figured that it would not be enough, but thinking those thoughts put him at ease in this strange situation. He then examined the snake’s long intertwined bodies. They were long structures, almost looking exactly like…
Vegeta gulped in fear as the thought of worms entered his mind. “Is our wonderful wizarding world too much for you, punk?”
Pushing aside his thoughts, Vegeta turned to face Draco Malfoy and his cronies Crabbe and Goyle. “Heh, you boys he no idea where I came from.” He spoke in a condescending tone. “I am a prince and a warrior, though I’ll admit having to use magic from sticks is a lot to take in.”
“You don’t know anything about magic,” Malfoy drawled. “My family have been in Slytherin for centuries, probably the wealthiest in the world. How can you call yourself a prince if you don’t have a magical pureblood family?”
“Look, kid. My father was the king of my race. My kind have conquered planets for many years. Basically, I arrived on Earth and then on a mission, me and the rest of the Saiyans ended up here.”
“So where are your parents now?” Malfoy asked.
Vegeta was silent.
“Oh, did they die like Potter’s parents did?” he sneered.
“Watch your words,” Vegeta warned.
“Or what? What are you going to do?” asked Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles. “Professor Snape or the other teachers are just going to expel you. You’ll be left homeless in the dust.”
“I can handle the world by myself. It would be better than wasting my time with you.”
“What are Saiyans anyway?” asked Malfoy. Before Vegeta could answer, Malfoy noticed Vegeta’s brown tail wrapped around his waist. “Oh, I see” Malfoy said with a laugh. “You’re some warrior monkey people from a jungle, right?”
“Shut up.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Want to find out?”
Malfoy removed his wand from his robes and pointed it at Vegeta. Vegeta got into a fighting stance, left fist in front of him. The students crowded around in a circle to watch. “I’d steer clear if I were you,” he yelled at them, the students moving backwards in response. Without warning, Malfoy cast a stunning spell at him. Vegeta quickly ducked and the spell blasted a hole in the stone wall. Malfoy shot a volley of spells as Vegeta dodged and powered up. He then fired ki blasts, one catching Malfoy’s black robe son fire. “Aquamenti,” said a student. A jet of water shot out from their wand and dowsed the flames.
“Alright break it up right now!” called a voice.
The prefect cast a spell that sent both of them backward. They both picked themselves up, giving each other looks of contempt. “The fight was intense so 3 points to Slytherin,” aid the prefect. “But if I catch you causing trouble again, I will dock 10 points, got it?” “Yes,” said Malfoy. Vegeta merely nodded. With the fight over, the students headed to their dorms.
In the boys’ dormitory, beds with green hangings were arranged in rows. A small square fountain was positioned in the middle of the room. Vegeta scoffed. Did these wizards seriously expect a Saiyan Prince to share a room with these self-entitled wand waving idiots? Not on his terms. He lifted his hand and blasted a large hole through the rounded wall. Several heads turned. With both hands, he lifted one of the beds with ease and flew out of the hole. Everyone stared in stunned silence. He landed in the living room and placed the bed in the space between two leather couches. At least he had more privacy. Vegeta lay in bed, determined to surpass Kakarot as well as the house of Gryffindor. The sooner he could get out of this world, the better. The calming sound of the lake water from outside lulled him to sleep.
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Shadows and Darkness: One and the Same (ch. 3)
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This fic is meant to be read in connection with my Azriel-centric prequel stories. I would highly suggest reading those first to get the full reading experience of this fic.
Reblog! Leave comments and fun tags! Enjoy!
Lena was called back to Hybern only the day after arriving in the Spring Court. A note had appeared in a bright white light demanding she return to the King immediately. With a roll of her eyes and not a word to anyone at the Spring Court, not even Feyre, she winnowed across the sea to the air just above the King’s castle.
As she fell through the sky, she created a shield of glittering night that guided her gently to a balcony. The guards parted for her immediately, jumping out of her way so that they were as far from her as possible.
She pushed open the heavy double doors to the King’s meeting chambers with both hands, storming into the room, her cloak still covering her face.
Lena prided herself on very little anymore — but she prided herself that she had never once shown fear in front of the King since she had been taken.
“You send me for a day only to bring me right back?” She snapped, ripping her hood away from her face so he could see her scowl. She fought back a grin when he grimaced at her scar. Let him. He had put it there, he would have to deal with it if he didn’t think she was ‘pretty’ anymore. “I sat around on my ass and did nothing. Am I your ambassador now, because if so I think I did a pretty good job representing you as a leader.”
The King’s grimace turned into a full on glare and Lena only responded with a mocking smile.
“Would you rather me have kept you asleep?” He asked. Lena managed not to finch. “I sent you as a test.”
Lena chuckled lowly, picking at her nails. “Of course you did. You wanted to see what I would do when I smelled my brother on the Cursebreaker. And when I realized all that you conveniently kept from me.”
“And?” The King asked. “What did you do?”
Lena continued picking at her nails, her face a perfect mask of boredom and annoyance. “What do you think? Nothing. I shoved her against a wall in my original surprise, but then left her alone. What should I care about her?”
“You don’t care that she was your brother’s mate?”
Lena rolled her eyes. “I’m dead to my brother. And so my brother is dead to me. I’m here to do what I have to do to protect him. You know that.”
The King laughed, crossing a leg over his knee as he sat perched on his throne. “Yes, your precious Shadowsinger. I do hope he survived that arrow to the chest.”
“He did.” Lena’s tone left no room for argument. “So what now? Am I back here to sate your crippling paranoia, or are you planning on chaining me up again?”
“No, not quite yet,” the King said with a vile smirk. “I need you to go to Vallahan.”
“Vallahan?” Lena spat incredulously. “Why?”
“There’s been some… unrest there. But you need to make a few stops along the way. The mortal queens have been making my life difficult lately—”
“How truly awful for you.”
“—and I need you to remind them what I have given them. And get them off of my back.”
“Fine. So I’m to scare the mortal queens and then hop over to Vallahan and… what exactly?”
“Observe and report.”
“I’m sorry, am I a spy now?” Lena spat. “Don’t you have others that can do this sort of work?”
The King’s fury rose as he stood, towering over Lena. Her expression never changed from that look of boredom, only enraging him further.
“We are in the middle of a new war, pet,” he hissed. “And a new war requires greater weapons. And you are my greatest. So you will do as I say or your precious Shadowsinger dies. Or have you forgotten that I’ve linked your magic to his life so that if you use any of that power against me and my plans he’ll die?”
Lena tensed, her eyes flashing. She let a flare of that very power radiate from deep within her. “No,” she said simply. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“Good. The queens expect you in three days, so you’ll remain here until then, restoring your magic. And try anything funny and your precious mate will be dead.”
~~~~~
Lena grimaced as she winnowed into the mortal lands. She hated the mortal lands. She had made more than a few trips to the human side of the wall since being the King’s prisoner, and not one of them had been pleasant. For anyone involved.
She landed just outside the walls of the queens’ palace. After double checking her shields, her hood, and the darkness covering her face, Lena made her way to the walls. Her boots crunched against the snow and her mind flashed back briefly to that night at the cabin, their cabin, when she had surprised him beneath the stars as the snow fell.
Stop that, Lena told herself before the memories could go any further.
The guards at the wall jumped just like the ones at the Spring Court and at Hybern had. Lena took a deep breath. She didn’t like constantly being feared. Sometimes she wondered how if she ever got out of Hybern’s clutches if she would be able to not strike fear into people’s hearts.
They let her in immediately and Lena strode for the front doors of the giant palace. She grimaced. It was honestly hideous. Such a display of wealth in such a poor land. The queens watched their people die of starvation without a drop of remorse as they holed themselves up in that ugly palace.
The guards at the front doors moved to open them for Lena but with a wave of her hand they opened instantly, pushing the guards back. Her boots clacked on the floor as she strode through the marble entryway.
“Oh you’re here,” a small human man said after coming around the corner and seeing her hidden beneath her cloak like always. He swallowed as darkness stared down at him. “The queens are expecting you, follow me.”
Lena did just that, rolling her eyes even though no one could see as the small man pointed out various historical artifacts and paintings scattered about the palace. Eventually he led her to yet another set of closed doors and bowed awkwardly before running away.
Lena didn’t bother knocking as she burst into the room. One of the queens screamed.
“Oh hush,” a different queen snapped. She stood up with pursed lips, staring Lena down. “The King sent you then. He’s told us about you. Some poor fae girl that he makes do his dirty work. Is that what we are now? Dirty work?”
“Well you certainly are acting like it,” Lena said lowly. Every one of the queens flinched, even the old one sitting in the corner with her back to the rest of them. “That’s the one that went in the Cauldron, then?” She asked in a bored tone.
The same queen that spoke nodded, swallowing. “She went in first because your King said she would come out beautiful and immortal, like you all. Now look at her. She’s hideous.”
“First,” Lena said in a deadly tone, “he’s not my King. Second, he never promised she would be beautiful so that’s her fault. And third, speak to me like that again and I will rip out your tongue from your stupid fat mouth. Do we understand each other?”
The queen scoffed, turning to the others for support only for them to look away. She whirled back on Lena. “Fine. Show us your face then, it’s rude to remain covered inside. Not to mention unnerving.”
Lena hesitated, taking the time to glamour her eyes to a dark shade of green. The queens were self-absorbed and arrogant, but they might notice her resemblance to Rhys all the same if her eyes were the same startling shade of violet as his.
Once she pulled back the hood the queens gasped. “Oh that scar on your face is hideous,” one of them murmured. “You’d be much prettier without it.”
“Yes well at least my skin won’t wrinkle as I age,” Lena shot back cruelly. The same queen flinched. “But never fear, I was told to stay here for a day and then I will take myself and my ugly, scarred face far away from here, hopefully never to see any of you again. Well, that one perhaps.” She nodded at the one queen who had been made immortal — yet old — by the Cauldron. “So you all can ask me any of your questions about the King’s plans and then I expect a hot meal and a bed before I leave. Understood?”
“Guests aren’t usually this demanding,” the first queen snapped.
“I can leave now if you don’t have any questions.”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “We have our questions.”
“Fine then,” Lena said with a huff, sitting down in an uncomfortable chair and leaning back in a very unladylike fashion. “Complain away, ladies.”
~~~~~~
The queens asked questions for hours.
Had the King fixed the Cauldron so they could be immortal and beautiful? How big was his army? When was the Wall coming down? Why couldn’t they come to Hybern and speak with him face-to-face? Where were the two girls that went into the Cauldron first?
And on and on and on it went.
By the time they were done, Lena was shown to a small bedroom where she caught a couple hours of restful sleep before she was brought a hot meal. She had made it seem as though she were going to stay the night and leave in the morning, but she planned on eating and then leaving before the moon reached its highest point.
The King expected her in Vallahan by the following day at noon. That’s all he was keeping track of.
Which meant she had time for a visit before then. A visit she had been trying to make happen for centuries and now finally had the chance.
So as soon as she was done eating the blandest soup she had had in her life, Lena pulled up the hood of her cloak once more and silently stole her way out of the castle. The magic that the queens had placed around the palace made sure that no one could winnow in or out, but once she was beyond the palace’s walls she would be in the clear.
And it was just outside the palace walls that she caught his scent.
It almost knocked her to the ground. She hurtled for the tree line, bracing herself against a tree as she tried to catch her breath. No — it couldn’t be. He couldn’t be here, what was he doing? He was supposed to be in the Night Court, or in the Spring Court getting Feyre out, or somewhere else dammit.
With a deep breath in through her mouth, Lena tried to calm her mind. She was going to be fine, she could handle this.
She knew he was there, but he didn’t know she was there too. Or if he did, he only saw someone in a brown cloak hurtling out of the queens palace. Which was also still suspicious.
And if he recognized the cloak…
Shit, Lena thought to herself. She could hear him flying above them. Unable to help herself, she looked up.
And there he was. Shooting through the night like a Cauldron damned idiot.
“Damn you, Rhys,” Lena hissed as she watched her brother circle even closer to the queens palace. He needn’t bother trying, the queens were paranoid and embarrassed — he wouldn’t be seeing anything of them.
But the guards were seeing Rhys just fine.
Leave it to Rhys to underestimate the humans and think he was perfectly in the clear. Spying was not his forte after all, that’s why he had —
Stop, Lena scolded herself once again.
Lena watched in horror as one of the humans within the winnow barrier stepped out and nocked an ash arrow, pulling back and aiming true...
Lena threw a knife made of pure night straight through the back of the human’s skull. He fell to the ground as the knife dissipated into the air.
Lena gulped. She hadn’t even realized what she was doing, she had just… reacted.
And so had Rhys. A heartbeat later he stood across from her.
Nothing in the world could have prepared Lena to be face-to-face with her brother in that moment. Or rather, face-to-face-hidden-beneath-a-cloak-and-magic.
Rhys was silent, his wings nowhere in sight. He had magicked himself out of his leathers and into a fine suit. Lena was glad that her cloak hid her facial expression because she was openly staring in shock.
Rhys looked… alive. More alive than Lena had ever seen him, even before she had been taken.
“Hello there,” Rhys said smoothly, his voice low and deadly, but likely enticing to anyone that wasn’t his sister. Lena wanted to gag. “And who might you be?”
Winnow, Lena told herself. Get the hell out of here.
She had never been very good at listening to her own common sense.
After magicking her own vocal cords so that her voice was distorted, Lena said as smoothly as she could muster, “None of your concern, High Lord.”
To his credit, Rhys did beautifully not showing his shock at the distorted voice. But Lena knew him, so she saw his reaction all the same.
“Is that so?” He asked easily, hands in his pockets as he took on a lazy stance. “You just saved my life. Or, you thought you did. I was well aware of the threat.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Lena regretted the words immediately, because even with the voice distortion, it was familiar. It was something she would have said to him before.
Rhys narrowed his eyes and Lena could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Show me your face,” he said simply. A demand from a High Lord to a random fae.
“Another time, High Lord,” Lena said smoothly, bowing mockingly at him. She prayed to the Cauldron in that moment that that wouldn’t be the last time she saw her brother.
“Wait—” Rhys said, sounding more like himself instead of the mask he was wearing, but it was too late.
Lena winnowed as fast as she could, tears falling freely from her eyes as she let her darkness fling her far across Prythian. She could almost taste the Night Court, could taste home, but she stopped just before she reached the borders of the life she once knew.
Lena let herself fall through the air, landing in a crouch atop the roof of the High Lord of Day’s manor.
~~~~~
Lena counted to five.
On one, she threw back her hood.
On two and three, she wiped away her tears. This stupid idea of hers was risky enough, she didn’t need to be showing any weakness if she was going to succeed.
On four, she took a deep breath.
And on five, right on cue, the Day Court guards rushed the roof.
Lena held up her hands as they rushed her, and at the last second before she was skewered by their swords she heard a vaguely familiar voice she hadn’t heard in centuries call out —
“Stop!”
The guards froze and Lena smirked at them. She felt oddly naked without her hood up, but there was no going back now.
She watched silently as High Lord Helion stalked across the roof of his manor towards her. He was wearing an off white toga, a sharp contrast to his dark brown skin. His eyes were bright with both curiosity and disbelief.
“I must be hallucinating,” he said casually as he came to a halt a few feet in front of Lena.
“I assure you that you are not,” Lena said as evenly as she could. She cursed herself inwardly when her voice shook all the same.
“So I really am looking at a dead girl walking then,” Helion continued, smiling softly. “Would you believe me if I told you it’s not the first time?”
“In fact I would. But High Lord Helion, I can assure you that I am no dead girl. Not truly.”
“Then what are you?” Helion asked, his tone no longer amused. “A trespasser in my territory wearing the face of a girl long gone from this world?”
“Yes to the first part, and not exactly to the second.”
“So you admit that you are a trespasser in my territory.”
“Oh yes,” Lena said casually. Helion’s brows shot up. “I’m definitely trespassing, I know the law. But I’m here in desperate need of your help.”
“And why would I help a dead girl?”
“Because I wish to no longer be dead.”
Helion cocked his head to the side, sniffing. “You have no scent,” he said with surprise. “Cauldron save me, you really are dead.”
Lena rolled her eyes, taking a deep breath as she released the shield over her scent. She felt even more naked than before. This had to work. The King would be monitoring her magic to see if she had made it to Vallahan in only a few hours unless Helion helped her.
He had to help her. Otherwise her mate would die and that was simply not an option.
Helion inhaled deeply through his nose, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Impossible,” he whispered. “You are most certainly dead.”
“I mean no disrespect, but I am most certainly not,” Lena countered. “I am Lena, once Daughter of the Night Court. Child of Aeron and Wren, sister to Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. I was stolen by Hybern when my mother was murdered and I have been his prisoner ever since. And if you, High Lord Helion, could find it within you to help my cause, I would beg that you help break the spell placed on my magic so that I can go home. So that I can fight for both your people and mine. So that I can fight for Prythian.”
~~~~~
Lena smiled at the guards as they followed her down to Helion’s chambers. They flinched and she cursed herself. If this worked — which it had to — she would have to learn how to be normal again. How to smile in such a way it didn’t strike fear into people’s hearts. How to have normal conversation. How to live.
And how to love, her mind whispered.
“Leave us,” Helion said simply, not even bothering to turn and look at his guards as they closed the doors behind them, leaving Helion and Lena only in his bedroom.
“Mother’s tits, your bed is huge,” Lena said in awe. Helion laughed, glancing at her over his shoulder.
“More the merrier is my motto,” he replied with a chuckle.
“Yes, I remember you mentioning that once or twice the last time I was here.”
“Ah of course,” Helion said wistfully, pulling out a seat for Lena which she sat in cautiously. “You were here with your father and your Shadowsinger. You must have been… twenty years old or so?” Lena nodded. “If I recall correctly I do believe you and Azriel,” Lena flinched at his name, “declined the invitation to my bed. And I would have remembered a night with you two, what with you two eye fucking each other every other second.”
“I was not,” Lena argued. Helion only rolled his eyes.
“Did you two ever get together?” He asked curiously. Lena hesitated. “Remember dead girl, I’m doing you a favor and risking my own Court from the wrath of Hybern if this all goes wrong. Humor me.”
“Yes,” Lena deadpanned. Helion grinned widely. “We got together. But it was… very short-lived.”
“Because you died?”
“I didn’t actually die,” Lena spat. “But yes. We were together for a few weeks, but… we only had one night together. I was taken two days later.”
For once, Helion remained quiet. A look of sympathy crossed his face.
“So tell me about this spell,” he said finally, standing up and searching his bookshelf.
Lena took a deep breath. “The King has tied my magic to… his life.”
“Whose life?” Helion asked quickly, whirling on her.
Lena froze. “The… Shadowsinger’s life.” She cringed at her inability to say his name.
“Did he now?” Helion asked slowly. He grabbed two books from his shelf and sat down across from her once more. “And why would he do that?”
“Take a guess,” Lena said simply, praying that he wouldn’t make her say it.
Helion’s eyes lit up when he realized. “Mates,” he whispered in awe. “You two are mates. What a pairing, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”
“So the King linked my magic to his life,” Lena trudged on. “If I use my magic to go against the King and his plans in any way, then he dies.”
Helion cocked his head to the side. “That’s it?” He asked. Lena glared. “I mean no disrespect my dear, it’s just… spells are concise. They’re clear, sharp. What you are describing is… overgeneralized. Vague.”
“So what does that mean?” Lena asked. “Can you break it?”
“Well they don’t call me Helion Spell-Cleaver just because it has a nice ring to it,” Helion muttered, holding out his hands. “Take my hand.”
Lena narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“I need to feel for the spell if you wish for me to break it.”
“How long will this take?”
“I won’t know until you take my hands.”
With a huff of resignation, Lena held out her hands and let Helion take them in his own. She flinched when she felt his power washing over her, scouring her, searching her. She felt horribly vulnerable but forced herself to remain still.
“By the Cauldron,” he whispered. “Your power is—”
“I know,” Lena spat.
And she did know. She knew that the well of her power was ominous and horrible and seemingly never-ending. And she hated it.
A few more silent seconds passed. Helion smiled suddenly, eyes still closed.
“There it is.”
“What?” Lena asked. “What is it? The King’s spell?”
Helion scoffed. “No. The mating bond. I can sense it. It’s strong, but… one-sided… You never told him—”
“That’s enough.”
Lena ripped her hands away violently, standing up so quickly she knocked the chair over. Helion only chuckled, unperturbed.
“I apologize,” he said with a smile, though still sincere. “I tend to be nosy.”
“Did you see the spell or not?” Lena asked through gritted teeth.
Helion cocked his head to the side. “Where did you get that scar on your face from?”
“That has absolutely nothing to do with why I’m here.”
“I’m doing you a favor,” Helion reminded her in a sing-song voice.
Lena rolled her eyes, huffing dramatically as she picked up the fallen chair and sat down once more. Helion’s eyes were lit with amusement. “I pissed off the King,” she said simply. “Found a loophole in his spell. I was on one of his errands, the details aren’t important, but I was… forced to stand back and watch some horrible people do horrible things. Oh don’t look at me like that, I hate myself enough for the both of us, don’t worry. But while we were there… he showed up.”
“Your Shadowsinger?”
Lena nodded. “He didn’t know it was me. Of course he didn’t, I wear this cloak everywhere, I’ve masked my scent for centuries. And I’m dead after all.” She laughed humorlessly. “Long story short, he got hurt and I… I couldn’t leave him. I had to get him away, I had to save him. He was drugged with faebane, he had no idea it was me saving him. I winnowed him to safety. The King only found out a few days later when he broke into the mind of a human that had been witness to the whole thing. He took his magic and carved this into my face as reminder not to try and cross him again.”
Helion watched her carefully. “And the King never sensed that you had winnowed your mate — that you had used your magic in such a way it went against his orders?”
Lena shook her head. “No. I learned a long time ago how to winnow someone else without touching them, so by doing that he wasn’t able to track—”
“There’s no spell on you.”
Lena froze and the air itself around them came to a halt.
“What?”
“There’s no spell,” Helion repeated. He was calm, his eyes darting to the darkness flickering at Lena’s fingertips. “I searched every inch of you. The only spell that’s binding you is the mating bond. There’s nothing else there, my dear. The King lied to you.”
“That’s… that’s impossible,” Lena said, chuckling as if Helion had just told her a bad joke. At his expression her face fell into complete and total devastation. “Helion, that can’t be true. It can’t be true because if that’s true, then I’ve just spent five centuries working for the most vile fae alive, killing and torturing people — innocent people to protect my mate from a spell that isn’t even real, so tell me that’s not true.”
Helion’s sympathy was clear as day on his face — ironic.
All he could say was, “I’m sorry.”
A beat passed and a giggle bubbled up to Lena’s lips. That giggle soon turned into full blown laughter. Helion waited patiently as she laughed hysterically for a solid two or three minutes.
And then the laughter turned to sobs. Sobs from deep within her soul, from the most damaged place within the most damaged person.
Helion knelt before her and let her cry into his shoulder. She clutched at him, holding onto him like an anchor as the tears flowed.
“What do I do?” She finally asked hoarsely. “How do I look them in the eye, how do I live, how do I—”
“You learn,” Helion said simply. “You learn how to live with it. Day by day.” He smiled at his own joke and Lena, for all her grief, couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“Have you heard anything out of the Spring Court?” She asked suddenly. Helion started, but nodded all the same.
“The Cursebreaker and Lucien Vanserra escaped the Spring Court few days ago. Last I heard they were poisoned with faebane and walking on foot for the caves.”
“What?” Lena asked in shock. “How do you know that?”
Helion’s eyes flashed. “I keep tabs on everyone, my dear,” he said with a mischievous smile. Lena didn’t push it.
“I have to… I have to get to Feyre,” Lena spluttered, standing to her feet and wiping her eyes.
“Not to your mate?” Helion asked curiously. “You’ve been apart from him for centuries, and you’re not going straight back to him?”
Lena shook her head. “No, I… I have to get Feyre back. She’s—” Lena froze, realizing she couldn’t very well announce to another High Lord that Feyre was High Lady. “She could be in danger, and she’s my brother’s mate. I’ll get her back to the Night Court and then… deal with everything else then.”
Helion nodded. “Well then, dead girl,” he reached around Lena and grabbed her hood, pulling it up securely around her head, “I would suggest you start scouring the Autumn Court lands for your sister-in-law and her friend then. They’re without any magic and likely going to be found by Aeron’s horrid sons anytime soon. Use that scent cloaking of yours and get to searching.”
Lena nodded, hesitating before gently hugging Helion. He returned the gesture heartily.
“Thank you,” she said softly, full of sincerity. “I can’t thank you enough, Helion. You’ve... you’ve saved me.”
Helion smiled. “Perhaps you can thank me when this War is over by spicing things up with that mate of yours. And bring the other two as well, the blonde and the brute. My bed is plenty big enough for all of us—”
“Goodbye Helion,” Lena deadpanned. He was still laughing as she gathered herself up in darkness and winnowed to the Autumn Court.
~~~~~
“I am High Lady of the Night Court,” Feyre said quietly to Lucien’s brothers from where she stood on the ice with Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien all behind her. Blood still dripped from her face, but she stood tall, strong, powerful.
“There’s no such thing as a High Lady,” one of the Autumn Court males spat.
Feyre only grinned. “There is n—”
Everyone crouched, guards up as darkness exploded across the ice. Feyre and the others could hear Lucien’s brothers screaming. Cassian covered Feyre’s body with his own, though she knew that the darkness wouldn’t hurt them.
Except… that darkness wasn’t Rhys’s.
A split second later and the darkness was gone. Feyre stood, blinking at the bright sun reflecting off of the ice.
Lucien’s brothers were gone. Vanished. There was no blood or bodies, they were just… gone.
And in their wake, standing across from Feyre, Cassian, Lucien, and Azriel, was a stranger with their face hidden beneath a heavy brown cloak.
Feyre breathed a sigh of relief, moving to take a step towards her, towards Lena.
But a knife sailed through the air right by Feyre’s ear as Truth Teller embedded itself deep in Lena’s chest.
#acotar#acowar#acomaf#azriel#sad oats#SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY#IT GETS BETTER#THERE ARE REASONS!!!!#ITS FOR SUSPENSE!!!
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The fair lady gets her wish..
Once upon a time.. there was an evil minstrel that captured his daughter in an invisible box that would envelope her and squeeze her until she felt there was no escape..
He locked her away in the castle.. her fear of escape so great that he didn’t even have to set guards around the palace. This was an evil fuckin castle.. there were spies everywhere. All residents tried to show love but their souls were tarnished and in place of the things they wanted to say.. hideous screams and shrieks would shatter the silence.
She didn’t know why this would happen? For she loved them so.. they were family and they should love her too. This hurt the daughter and future heiress to the throne greatly.. day after day after day..
Years of her being tortured, humiliated, and bordering on being abused by her family.. she was singing on the balcony, trying to keep the dark feelings at bay, and she sees this slightly handsome man slowly emerge from the tree line.. this was a mini donkey he was riding and it did not go fast at all..
“Why doest thou ride on an ass?” She speaks down to him.. “Tis a natural place for you to sit on,” he replies.. this makes her smile.. she continues to talk to him like this, day after day.. on and into the future. Witty banter and everything on their minds..
One day he arrives with a bouquet of flowers behind his back and tells her to shut her eyes.. he tosses them up to her on the balcony meaning to land them beside her and pssssh.. the roses smack her face with a light slap and she jars her eyes open surprised with a gasp, “What tis this dear Eue?”
“Tis but a token of my thoughts my dear. Just a taste of what I see when I look upon you.. can I ask you something, my beauty?” “But of course you may.. you may always say what is on your mind,” she giggles back.. He slides off his little village donkey and bends down onto one knee.. “You art beautiful like none in this kingdom and I shant be happy until I hear thus words from your lips.. would thou dearest, fair lady accept my heart and my hand? Forevermore and yonder?” “I d—–,” she gasps as her father flies onto the balcony and grabs her and flings her back into the castle with a jarring bang.
The slightly handsome man on the ass shambles to the balcony for weeks and weeks but it remains empty. He continues to arrive and there is no her. Filled with sadness and emptiness he decides that he no longer wants to eat, wants to leave his abode.. rarely having the desire to live. The fairest lady also inside but trapped under her evil fathers rule and the families ruthless ridicule, also stops eating.. no longer happy, both of them suffer in the worst of ways. Self torment.
One day the fair lady sitting in her room about to pull her hair out.. hears a chirping. She investigates and finds a tiny finch with a fortune sized piece of paper rolled onto it. She removes the paper and pets the birds head with a smile and unrolls it.. her smile widens and brightens until it almost splits her head in half like a Cheshire grin. “I’m coming to save you my darling fair one. Keep quiet and don’t draw attention. I love you. E.”
Just then the balcony door starts to rattle.. in a little metallic tinkle sort of sound and then the door creaks open. Peering through the slit, the slightly handsome man cautiously enters. “Take my hand my love,” he whispers.. she takes his hand and he leads her to the balcony. Behind his little village donkey, he brought a cart filled with hay.
Quickly he picks her up and tosses her into the hay. Just then the evil father jumps onto the balcony with a sword and swings it at the slightly handsome man. The man dives off the balcony but the butt of his pants taking the blade edge. Buttless and frantic, the slightly handsome man jumps on the ass (with his cheeks bared and the fair lady laughing at the sight hysterically) “Oh shush my love.. I almost died for your love.”
Time goes by while they are together and happy but something is missing. The pretty lady feels an emptiness and sadness for her family. She wants them to love and feel happiness and have them in her life like that. She says to Eue, “Is there something we ought do bout my family? I love them terribly and hate to see them suffer so.” “If it be thy wish of my love.. I shall spend every waking breath of mine curing this ill on them. I shall return!”
Months later after finding the ailment they suffer.. a wizard guarded by a dragon has cast a dastardly spell upon the family causing them to be empty of love and joy. The slightly handsome man draws his sword and charges into the cave screaming and slashes the empty air.. oops.. wrong cave, hehe.
He examines the next cave this time and charges in screaming like a warlord from the 7th Circle of hell fighting off demons and drops the head of the dragon straight to the floor. The wizard.. startled and angry at this.. shoots ice out of his staff and freezes the man solid. Cackling, the wizard goes back to his potions and plots mumbling, “now I must find me a new fire-breather.. shit!”
After a while the fair lady goes out in search of her husband because she is worried.. she runs across the donkey and says, “where is Eue, donkey? Take me to Eue!!” The ass takes off and runs like the wind, tongue lulling around and waving in the wind. She arrives at a cave.. donkey is shaking his head towards the one on his left.
She creeps into the cave, nervous and frightened.. not knowing what to expect. She comes into a firelit room with the slightly handsome man sitting in the chair. She runs to him and jumps onto his lap and kisses him all over his face. “Kiss me my beauty,” he whispers.. she does and he starts transforming into an old shrieking man and she recoils away from his ugliness. The old wizard screams something about, “red hair,” and starts melting right in the chair.. into nothing but a disgusting stinky little puddle. She winces her face in that cute little way she has and then hears someone in the next room.
She runs in there and finds her man on all fours with ice melting all over him. Lovingly, she softly romoves the ice from him and he looks up into her eyes.. “You saved me fair lady,” he says.. “Doest thou spend thy days truly thinking of me?” She raises an eyebrow.. He smiles and hugs her tightly, “Lets get out of this spider infested cave my love..” “Spiders?!?” She shrieks!! And they both run out hurriedly.
The journey back was a quick one and they came upon the castle.. “Father? Uncle Matt? Brother? Is anyone here?” She asks not wanting to go near the door.. ready to flee. Just then the door swings open and the family rushes out to her and wraps her up in their arms all at once and individually, smiling the whole time.. the fair lady had never been happier in her life. She reached back and swung a palm down and smacked the slightly handsome man on the bare buttcheeks.. “You did wonderfully my holy husband!! Now lets fix those pants after we take them off..” and she winks at him. “God, I love you dearest,” he breaths and kisses her right in front of the family and they put their hands on his shoulder.
And they all lived happily ever after..
#fair lady#story#original story#beautiful story#happilyeverafter#happily married#amazing stories#poetic#fiction#creative stories#original#spilled thoughts#spilled words#spilled writing#spilled work#based on true story#based on true events#loosely
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All right, the people have voted and they want to hear my voice. Since I just learned to play “Birds” from Ultimate Storytime on the guitar, I figured I’d play and sing for y’all.
Sorry about the middle part, I just completely forgot how to pronounce “fish” even though I’d just said it.
Warning to headphone users: it’s kind of loud and the quiet guitar at the beginning is misleading.
[Audio description: me singing “Birds” by Thomas Sanders and playing guitar]
Lyrics below cut:
I don't want to drive a fancy car today
I don't wanna ride in a red corvette
I don't wanna jog my Saturday away
But I don't wanna go home yet
Today is not the day to jump out of a plane
I don't wanna parasail or play roulette
I don't wanna risk it all or go insane
But I don't wanna go home yet
I just wanna watch the birds go by
From my handy foldable blue canvas throne
I wanna watch them fly and fly
And see them soar up into the unknown
But I feel just like a nerd
Watching birds
Watching me here all alone
I don't wanna breakdance or learn taekwondo
I don't wanna fish till all the fish are gone
I don't wanna rollerskate even if it's slow
I don't wanna pass out in a marathon
I don't like soccer, baseball, track or field
I'm not up for a match of polo
I don't wanna seek or try to stay concealed
I'm also not up for waterpolo
I just wanna watch the birds up there
Track the migratory patterns that they've flown
I wanna watch them from my chair
With my binoculars, my latte, and my phone
Trying to spot a lark
In the park
Parked in nature all alone
Alone here with the doves
The sparrows, the ospreys
The owlets, the eagles, and my list
It's just me and Mr. Finch
The robins, the king fishers, the snipes
Though I heard they don't exist
Each little specie
In its little way can teach me what awaits you
If you can get away
I wanna watch
The birds do what they will
Sorry if I'm ornithologically prone
I wanna watch from somewhere undisturbing
Quiet, calm, still
Sit right here and gaze at the unknown
I don't wanna fly
In the sky
I just wanna be alone
I just wanna be alone
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Finch Field: A location for Rinley’s Traveling All Stars
It’s been a while since I wrote about this setting due to life and whatnot. Here’s a place you can use in any game of Chuubo’s you want as long as it’s set on Little Island and the characters have a reason to go to a sports stadium in the middle of nowhere.
Property: The wind does what the wind does
Halfway between the Temple of Jade Irinka and the southeast shore of Little Island lies the home of the baseball team the Little Island Finches. There are no roads leading to the stadium, though there are a few faint foot paths, most notably one from the ferry port to the stadium.
(Photo from Alderidge, in a Camper Van’s tumblr)
Whoever built this stadium believed that it shouldn’t be visible. It’s not that they were ashamed of the work or that the locals dislike baseball (going to a game is considered a fine way to pass the time after a morning tending fields or inspecting windmills); it’s just that no matter how pastoral it looks, it wouldn’t fit in with the feel of Little Island. So it’s in a comparatively deep valley. There’s only one sign it’s there until you cross the hills, and that’s not obvious from all angles.
That sign is the Pine Throne. Unless you’re approaching the stadium from a certain angle, it looks like an extremely large pine tree, about 180 feet tall. But if you approach it from the the front of the stadium, you can see that the front part of the top has been carefully carved. Not only do the needles disappear, but there is a huge, ornate throne carved into it. It’s really a remarkable piece of work, and since the Throne is still alive (nobody wants to carve away so much that it gets damaged), it needs to be constantly trimmed of sprouting branches and carved back into shape. The Finches are the only team in Town where the highest paid person in the organization is the topiarist.
Topiary is also the main form of decoration you see when you scale the hills that surround the valley. The stadium is surrounded by trees and shrubs that are carved into graceful abstract patterns.
While the playing field is unusually large, for reasons we’ll get to in a minute, the parts for visitors are pretty modest. I know I’m calling this a stadium, but it’s more like a small high school’s athletic fields. There’s a few bleachers -- I’d estimate they can seat about 400-500 people. Remember, that’s still three or four times more than the Island’s population. But on years when the Finches make the playoffs, sometimes it’s not enough, and crowds who can’t find seats surround the field.
There’s no formal concession stands, but the food is generally quite good. For many who raise sheep, crops, or grapes, visitors to the game are a fine way to sell their wares and make some coin. There’s one shepherd, Esmerelda Mako, who makes some absolutely amazing cheeses. She won’t tell anyone the process she uses, except that she makes sure that the sheep graze in a field where buttercups grow. (I don’t like to think about the details too much, but sometimes she also brings a really tasty mutton pie.) I don’t think that the three-star restaurants of Paris would accept the wines of Little Island, but you’d be delighted to drink them at a neighborhood bistro.
At first glance, there doesn’t appear to be any electricity; it’s just a field with bleachers; a scoreboard operated by hand (but much more modest than the one in Fortitude Field), and of course the ball field. But if you look at the base of the Pine Throne, you’ll see the buildings with some power have been built around it (literally; the windows in the away locker room face the west side of the tree; the home lockers face the east side). Again, they almost camouflage into the landscape. While the nearby windmills that provide the power would normally be a sign that there’s a structure nearby, windmills are so ubiquitous on the island that they too fade into the background.
The electricity, as far as I can tell, is only used for a handful of functions. It powers the radio broadcast (the Pine Throne has wires on it, making it a great antenna). And it powers the water pumps and heaters.
For players, the locker rooms are really unremarkable. Again, I’m put in the mind of high school facilities. Old fashioned ones. Cheap tin lockers; basic tiled showers. I think the vistor’s section is supposed ot be painted a vibrant shade of green, but it’s always faded away to an bland industrial green that you see in hospitals. But they’re still clean and functional.
I guess I should talk about the reason for the Pine Throne: Wind spirits love baseball. The seat is put there to show respect to the 12 emperors, a few of whom are said to be huge fans of the game -- though they’re only seen at about three games a year. However, just about every game has a few lesser spirits, and it’s fairly common, if I understand the term correctly, for some “lesser nobility” to attend.
There’s a tradition that if a batter hits the throne with the ball (any of the cleared area, not just the seat itself), he gets a silver crown. That’s not a tiara, but a British coin from the 1840s, about an ounce of silver. Some sailor who’d found a chest of them donated it to the Finches. It’s not common, but they do give away about two or three a year.
While the wind spirits may enjoy baseball, they also influence the game. I suspect that this isn’t deliberate, it’s just that wind spirits attract wind. As a result, you can never tell what the wind is going to do.
In most ball fields, the winds tend to either favor the batter, lifting the ball further and making home runs easier, or favor the pitcher, slowing hit balls down and keeping them in the ballpark. But Finch Field is entirely unpredictable, sometimes driving the ball out, sometimes keeping it in, and every now and then doing something totally bizarre, like making it stop in midair and come crashing down inches from leaving the park. At least, according to what I’ve been told. But it’s certainly true that the park has the Regional Property the wind does what the wind does.
XP Actions
Travelling to Finch Field is probably a Slice of Life. You talk to friends as you walk along the countryside, enjoying the unspoiled scenery and the sun shining down on you.
Sometimes though, travelling to Finch Field, especially if you’ve had an urban upbringing, or are in a hurry to get there, could be Suffering Adversity. Every hill and valley on Little Island looks the same. There’s no road markers. Burrs are getting stuck on your clothes and it hurts to take them off. And the summer sun beating down on you is merciless.
Seeing the Pine Throne from a distance may be Foreshadowing. You climb a hill and suddenly spot this massive tree, towering above everything, an impossibly huge chair imposing on top of it. The image sticks with you.
Trying to climb the Pine Thrown is probably a Wicked Action. You know it’s dangerous, and there’s no good reason to do it. But you’re doing it anyway. For shame!
Examining the topiary around the stadium is sometimes Discovery, as the flowing abstract shapes capture your attention. It’s like a meditation garden sometimes, where the patterns in the sand make you realize something about yourself.
Ordering food is generally a Shared Action. These aren’t professional merchants, but farmers and shepherds showing off their wares. You can converse with and connect to them as you pick up homemade pickles or wine for the game.
For ball players
On the rare crowded days, especially playoffs, trying to field a ball can be Trouble. The fans are just standing around the field at the edge, and you may need to dive into them to make a catch. Do you risk hurting them, or do you risk losing a point. There’s no good answer.
Trying to hit the Pine Throne and win a crown can become an Obsessive Action. It’s mostly luck, but there’s just enough skill involved that you can’t give up. It takes over your game plan when you’re at bat.
Predicting what the wind will do can be Science Faith and Sorcery. Maybe you believe that when a particular spirit approaches there are more winds from the west so you should pull your bat accordingly. Maybe you have some other technique to figure it out for the day. But at the end, you’re coming up with an idea and testing it out.
A wind emperor showing up at a game you’re at is often Foreshadowing. They’re huge. They’re rarely spotted. Some are strange shapes. They captivate your attention. (THis will probably affect your ball game.) It may, instead, be a Discovery action if that would be more appropriate to the genre, since it is neat, mysterious and possibly a bit scary.
A Ritual: Highlight reel
As I mentioned a few times, this field reminds me of what you’d see at a school. I’ve figured out why: because Little Island is Town’s memory. Being at the stadium tends to invoke fits of nostalgia, in both the players and the crowds watching. It’s quite possible that some PC will feel this wave of reminisce, triggering others with this ritual.
Like the only part of Marcel Proust’s novel that anyone ever cites, you will pick out an item and say that it somehow takes you back to an event in your past. You just say that something in the stadium (the splintery wooden bleacher, the fresh tomato you’re eating, the scent of cut leaves on the wind, etc.) has triggered an experience. Give three or four sentences of the experience, then stop and move to the next character.
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