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#chapter 334
marcus-vice · 2 years
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Yeah it’s official… asta is having the worst day of his life
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everytsukauchi · 2 years
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renee-writer · 2 years
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Cousins Chapter 34
AO3
Time passes. The rapist was still on the loose and the lasses of the castle and their protectors, arestill on high alert. Geillis had done as she could and they wait to see if she will come up with child. She is quiet, going about her chores by route, mechanically. Her cousin worries about her and, as much as she looks forward to being the lady of Lallybroch, she frets about leaving her.
“I am here. She has me and you, my precious granddaughter, you have your husband and the coming bairn.” Claire’s hands flutter over the small bump. It amazes her every time she thinks about carrying the life that Jamie started in her.
“I ken granny. It is just, she isn’t Loaghaire anymore. He took more then her innocence. It seems he took her away too.” Mrs. Fitz nods and draws her granddaughter to her side.
“Aye. We will continue to love her and accept her as she now is as we pray she comes fully back to us.” She weeps each day over her darling, her prayers a constant plea that she can heal from the unimaginable.
Another month passes and Loaghaire, even in her state of aloofness, realizes something. She comes to her cousin. “Claire, I haven’t had my curses.” Claire is repairing one of her husband’s shirts and drops it at her cousin’s words.
“Oh Loaghaire!” she is thinking. Should they call Geillis back? “We can see if Mistress Duncan can..”
“Nae! It is mine. Someone just for me.” Claire stares at her, seeing her for the wean she is.
“Loaghaire, but you have nae husband, nae name to give..”
“What is wrong with Mackenzie? I am a hard worker. I can make sure that we are seen to.”
“Have you told granny?”
“Nae, not yet. Claire, I’ve a favor tae ask ye.”
“Ye want me there when ye tell her?” she guesses, picking up Jamie’s shirt with nerveless fingers. She is but barely fifteen. How is she to..?
“Aye but, I would like tae come with ye tae Lallybroch. I can’t abide it here! I feel it everywhere, him!”
Claire could tell her that the child would be a constant reminder but.. “I will have tae discuss it with Jamie..”
“And I with granny and our Laird. I wouldn’t come as a burden. I could be yer lady’s maid.”
“Loaghaire, you are my dear cousin and never a burden. Let’s talk to everyone.” She hugs her tight an picks up a piece of clothing from the basket and helps her sew.
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z-zonk · 2 years
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GUYYYYSSSS the chapter 334 IS FUCKIN WILD!
Idk what to do about it.
Like go about my day existing with this knowledge!
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citrusbugz · 2 months
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Keeping Agares without the mask is the best design choice this Manga ever made. I always forget this gorgeous face wasn't the default.
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sokkathebluewolf · 2 months
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Preview: Gladiator Chapter 334
Ursa reminisces on Zuko and Azula's younger years: the child Prince's insecurities urge her to find a solution to quell his fears of falling behind his sister's prodigious skills. The family journeys to Shu Jing, in hopes of convincing the renowned Master Piandao to train Zuko in the art of the blade.
In the present, Ursa comes back to herself with Piandao's support. The swordsman shares his own story with the fallen noblewoman, and they join the rest of the group for Toph's strange game in the bonfires of Ba Sing Se's gardens...
Read Gladiator HERE or HERE
For a snippet of the new chapter, support me on Patreon!
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pttucker · 5 months
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"The end of the scenario is fixed. Is that what you want to say?" As Giant Briareus stated, fate couldn't be averted. Ares had also said it. This scenario was just the development of a causal event that was scheduled. Yes, that's right. Perhaps their words were correct. "If the end is fixed, is there any meaning in the process?" [It must be meaningful but that is just being romantic. As a result, it is recorded as a failed story.] "Are all failed stories meaningless? Even if you know you will fail, isn't the story of those who have fought to the end worth it?" [Constellations like those stories but those who do so are bound to die.] "It is a possibility. Then what about this? Someone who is influenced by the story tries to challenge the same story again." At this moment, Dionysus opened his mouth. "10 times, 100 times, 1000 times. What if many constellations and incarnations are affected by the story and live such a story again?" Failure might be scheduled but the countless beings built up a story of courage as they confronted the given fate over and over again. What if they accumulated stories about challenges and challenged them in another way. "Then are the failed stories useless?"
Man, maybe I'm reading too much into this, but I'm getting such weird vibes from this scene.
Like, I get that he's talking about all of the incarnations and constellations that came before him, including to this very event, and together they have built up a story that a single individual alone couldn't achieve, similar to how the continuous repeating of Gigantomachia itself is what gives it most of its power. (And also this is obviously a metaphor for Joonghyuk's life.)
But the whole repeated talk about fate and the end of the story and a single story and the Fourth Wall narrating ORV itself along with this general idea of "was the entire story pointless if it ended in tragedy?" makes me worry a little that I'm reading a tragedy right now and this is major foreshadowing for the novel itself. 😬
On the complete opposite hand, it also makes me think that this is not the first time that Dokja (and everyone else) has gone through this story? Like maybe Dokja has done this all before without knowing it and this time it's going to end properly.
Or perhaps that it goes back to my old idea that Dokja is the author and he regretted how the story ended and now he's changing it. (After having forgotten that he's the author like Asuka Ren.)
idk, I could just be looking too deeply into it and Dokja is perhaps just upset because he's read 1863 rounds of the same story and seen that the outcome is not fixed and all of the failed rounds were not useless, both to the original 1863rd Joonghyuk and to him, now, who is using knowledge of those 1863 attempts to create revisions of TWSA as he personally changes the story.
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deltajellybean793 · 10 months
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"It's for the sake of world peace. Please die."
Black Clover, Chapter 334
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aristocraticvision · 11 months
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Chapter 334: Unwelcome Guests (Pt. 2)
“TransAtlantic Flight 710 to New York is now boarding at Gate 12,” the announcer’s voice said over the loudspeaker. “Please have your ticket and boarding pass ready.”
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David looked around the waiting area nervously. He knew Pryor and Franklin would be looking for him, and the airport would likely be their first stop once they discovered he was no longer staying at Buckton Hall.
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When his phone rang and he saw Devon’s name on the screen, David began to relax. The only way his brother would call him now was if there was a problem, so he could surmise that the two men had likely just been there.
A flash of concern crossed his mind, but he quickly pushed it aside. Even two men as stupid as Allesandro’s henchmen wouldn’t dare harm a duke, would they?
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Let him deal with it, David thought as he moved into the boarding line. It’ll give him a taste of what I’ve been dealing with for the past year and a half.
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As David took his seat in first class, he knew he was free. He didn’t like running away, but paying his debts wouldn’t have left him much in terms of financial resources. Devon had been generous, he had to admit, transferring a cool million Westonian dollars into his account, but David had a certain lifestyle he was loathe to give up. Keeping the money for himself would allow him to maintain that lifestyle for a much longer period – though he knew he would have to be careful. Allesandro had a long reach.
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David looked out of the window wistfully. He suspected he was seeing his homeland for the last time. New York would be a good place to get lost, but Weston would be off limits to him now that Allesandro had tracked down David’s home.
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“Would you like champagne?” the attendant asked as she moved down the aisle.
David smiled.
“Of course,” he said.
CHAPTER 1 | BEGINNING OF PART 4 | PREV | NEXT
Continent of Oceana | History of Weston | History of Corwyn | History of Torenth | History of Allycia
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hprsn · 2 years
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BLACK CLOVER SPOILERS!!!!!! CHAPTER 334 (and 335)
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there we go. what a smartass
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this looks sooooo sick. sheeesh. i guess this is the epitome of “humanity” daamn
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ouchie. imagine the girl you love saying that to you
(he kinda look like liebe here)
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they aint going for the kill yet i suppose
CHAPTER 335
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this sht is just crazy. like first we think that it was the elves who were the supreme creatures. but then devils came and we thought they’re the ones who are actually the real deal. but NOPE– it was actually a higher life form of humans or “human evolution but in a magical way” 
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why he do be lookin good though. lucius making good use of his face huh lol. look at them horns.
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okay fellas. we all know that he aint dead. however, i am expecting that he will suffer major injuries. like something that he cant heal from. 
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chills. absolute chills. there’s literally no hope now. the one thing that can work on the “paladins” is gone and got wrecked by mere seconds. 
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themantanime · 2 years
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Black Clover Chapter 334 Raw Scans: Origins Of Julius and Lucius!
Black Clover Chapter 334 Raw Scans: Origins Of Julius and Lucius!
The Black Clover Chapter 334 Raw Scans won’t be out this week, as the WSJ is one break. The Raw scans would be out next week and if possible we will try to update the as soon as possible. Black Clover Chapter 334 Raw Scans As of now there are no Black Clover Chapter 334 Raw Scans, as the WSJ is on break. But we will make sure to update them as soon as they arrive. In general, Black Clover…
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marcus-vice · 2 years
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Yeah…. Asta isn’t having a very good day
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everydayspamton · 4 months
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day 334 of drawing spamton every day until deltarune chapter 3
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rabbitsrants · 1 month
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SHINRAN AND THE FIVE LOVE LANGUAGES
gift giving
giving your partner tangible items that make them feel known, loved and cared for
chapter 48
shinichi giving ran mittens
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we all know shinichi is a very observant and attentive guy, so naturally all of his gift are pretty well thought out... which is why i was confused as hell about the mittens, cause they seemed very random to me... until i paid closer attention and noticed something
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THEY'RE NOT RANDOM AT ALL
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HE GIVES HER MITTENS BECAUSE HE NOTICES THAT HER HANDS ARE FREEZING IN THE COLD
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this ship is going to be the death of me.
chapter 237
ran knitting shinichi a sweater
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IT TAKES HER A WHOLE MONTH YALL!
chapter 245
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chapter 293-296
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bonus: shinichi being appreciative!
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chapter 307
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even though she decides not to send him the cup, shinichi is still ecstatic about the gift. meanwhile in chapter 331-334:
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both of them are hurting so much during this case. and here's my theory:
both shinichi and ran have a tendency to conceal or downplay their pain. ran says she didnt send the mug because it turned out bad, but i think that's just an excuse. i think not being able to give him the cup directly causes her a lot of anguish, which is why she ultimately decides not to send it.
but my girl is strong, so the first time she's confronted with a situation like that she's able to fool everyone. the reason why shinichi catches on to her during the valentine's case is because it's a romantically loaded day and this is the second time that she doesn't get to express her love through a gift.
she's tired of having so much love to give but the only person she wants to pour her heart out to is absent. she's understandably crushed. which ultimately breaks shinichi's heart as well. so he does this...
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and i think that speaks volumes about shinran and the importance of gift giving in their relationship.
chapter 727
kogoro: mentions ran's cold at the beginning of the case
me: doesn't give it much thought
shinichi:
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me:
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chapter 884
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chapter 743
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not THAT much, huh?
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mirai-e-jump · 3 months
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UTB (Up to Boy) Magazine, February 2024 Issue (Vol.334) ft. Hirakawa Yuzuki Interview and Photo Shoot (translation below)
Publication: December 22, 2023
Immovable Upside
Currently appearing in "Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger," the currently airing Super Sentai series, actor Hirakawa Yuzuki-san makes her second appearance in our magazine. She's changed her hair, having it cut into a shorter style, as she presents her pure and mature duality, which has become even more transparent.
-We've been rushing through the year-
"You've cut your hair short, and your look is totally different from the last time we saw you. Personally, how do you feel about your current short hairstyle?"
Hirakawa: Before I started acting, I always kept it short, so it somehow feels nostalgic. I cut it because of my role, but I thought it was abit of a waste since it's been that long for about 5 years (laughs). Still, I think it'll be fine since it grows quickly.
"Starting from episode 27, the second chapter of King-Ohger is set two years later. We think the change in hairstyle made it easier for you to make changes in your performance."
Hirakawa: That's true. I think I'm able to show more strength. I think that after two years, they're more aware and prepared as a king, and that they have a greater sense of responsibility.
"Now that the story has progressed considerably, are there any memorable moments from the episodes that have been broadcast so far?"
Hirakawa: In episode 25, the sense of distance between Rita and their retainer Morfonia, or rather, the values of their relationship have become much closer. It was a time where Rita gathered the courage to take another step forward on their own, so that episode left quite an impression on me. From there, the way they interacted with Morfonia changed completely, so I think it was a turning point for them. Also, in episode 38, they reveal the face they've been hiding up until that point, and showed all kinds of facial expressions as an "idol," so I hope you enjoyed it.
"It's already aired, so if you haven't seen it yet, please catch up and watch it…..! By the time this magazine comes out, filming for the final episode will be underway, right?"
Hirakawa: In about another month or so……"We've got such a long time before it starts!," is what I thought, but only for a moment. I think it was more instantaneous after the Summer film ended. Until then, we weren't used to filming, and everyone was in a state of just trying to figure things out. The cast members have been good friends since the beginning, but since we spent alot of time together, including during the regional promotional campaigns for the Summer film, we became even closer, and that time really flew by.
"For those who view things similarly, the "loss" seems to be intense."
Hirakawa: It might be because me and the rest of the cast are starting to become aware of the end, or maybe it's because some fans are also like, "It's coming to an end….?" I still go out to dinner with all the cast members after filming, so I think we'll still probably see each other again ever when it's over. We've been together for a year and we've gotten to know each other very well, so when I imagine the end of filming, I feel incredibly sad.
"As a fan, I'm going to miss seeing everyone's friendly conversations on Toei Channel very much……Now, 2023 will soon come to an end, looking back, what kind of year was it?"
Hirakawa: We've really been rushing through the year. I've been working hard during the filming of King-Ohger in order to make it better and to help myself grow. I was able to experience many things this year, as there were quite a few jobs that came about as a result of King-Ohger, and it was the most thrilling year for me as a performer. Of course, there were many things I worried about, but I think it was also an extravagant year, filled with many happy and frustrating experiences.
"What kind of year do you want 2024 to be?"
Hirakawa: I think I'll be apart of King-Ohger until the first half of the year, when we perform at G-Rosso, but after that, I'll have to move forward on my own. I'd like to "polish" my inner self and become a more appealing person. As for my work, I'll do my best to continue to appear in productions without taking any breaks inbetween.
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philtstone · 16 days
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Eowyn, 1
1 - in lonely beds ive finally scraped together a functional first scene for my accidentally-a-psych 3 hunters detective agency au. if you guys like this mess i'll turn it into a real fic. with chapters and a plot and everything!!!!! the prompt is ... interpreted but loneliness and my girl eowyn are well acquainted
It is four o'clock on a Tuesday and Eowyn Eomundsdottir has three significant problems. 
Arrest, rapid-onset dementia, and laundry.
Each of her issues is easily explainable if considered separately. Eowyn is the first to admit that her brother Eomer’s always had a bit of a temper, and if she puts aside the necessary development of maturity and commitment to familial responsibilities that happened after their parents died, it was always a matter of time before some poor idiot pressed his buttons in just the wrong-enough way in front of another just the wrong-enough idiot to get him jailed overnight for knocking in an unwitting nose. 
Plenty of people’s uncles develop rapid-onset dementia, she is freely ready to acknowledge. 
And – if Eowyn may be so self-aware – she has certainly fallen behind on her laundry many times before. 
But no matter how short her brother’s temper, he wouldn’t be arrested for trying to embezzle family funds. Rapid-onset dementia is far less likely when there is next to nil history of it in your family tree, and even less so when the Uncle in question is a scant fifty-three and doing perfectly fine not two months ago. And, most importantly: Eowyn has fallen behind on laundry before, but never because of the above-mentioned two issues, and never such that the only thing she’s got left to wear is a thin white sundress from when she was fourteen that is too short at the knees and not at all suited for the early spring cold spell they are currently experiencing, nor the creepy wandering eyes of Uncle Theoden’s new business manager, who routinely looks like he’s been doused in oil. 
It’s fucking miserable, is what it is. Her knees have goosepimpled, she’s so cold. And to make matters worse, her cousin Theodred, whom she would usually text for help in a crisis, seems to have blocked her phone number.
That, Eowyn simply can’t believe.
It’s because of all these things that she finds herself standing at the dingy brick building by the docks, eyeing the circling seagulls warily, and clutching her backpack in one hand and her bike helmet — which has left her long blonde hair looking like a birds nest — in the other. It’s a small place, with a glass window in place of a front wall that’s got the blinds drawn on the inside. There’s no official sign, but someone has taped a small piece of cardstock to the back of the windowpane, facing out. It reads, in surprisingly elegant black Sharpie penmanship:
Telcontar, Gloinson & Thranduilion Private Investigators for Hire 
Beneath this, there is an additionally taped series of brightly coloured post-it notes, which are scrawled over with the following in various hands:
Got a phone! +1591-334-9920 (If no one answers the door, call the number! We DO NOT have a website.) That’s because Gimli thinks the government is spying on us. SO DO YOU! All inquiries welcome :-) 
Eowyn takes a moment to read through it all. Then she pauses, listening. There is the distinct sound of voices from within, muffled. So someone must be home, then – better just to open the door, rather than knock, in case no one hears her. She takes a deep, steadying breath, tugs at the too-short hem of her dress, and twists the doorknob.
Inside there is what can only be described as carefully organized chaos.
Within the small office space there is a cluttered desk housing a laptop and overlarge monitor. Boxes cover everything, as though someone has only just moved in, and a lopsided whiteboard rests against the far wall, covered in a far less elegant version than the hand that wrote the outside sign. Everything smells a little bit like camphor, and also cookies, and a very faint touch of gym socks. A man sits on a rolly chair in the corner; he is on his cellphone. Eowyn wouldn’t have even seen him if he wasn’t talking, so well does he somehow blend into the taupe walls and cluttered box decor, but as she does: he is tall (too tall for the chair), dark haired, and wearing an old grey hoodie, running shoes, and an abominably ratty pair of jeans. He’s talking on the phone in a low gentle voice that is nonetheless a touch put-upon, but nowhere near snippy or even frustrated. Eowyn (in a fit of fancy) doesn’t think a voice like that could be capable of snippiness, and then promptly feels very embarrassed by her own foolishness. At his feet, by the bottom of the whiteboard, a pile of dirty blankets rests. From within them sounds a plaintive meowing. Opera music plays from a speaker system Eowyn can’t see; a hammer (maybe?) is banging somewhere in the distant back room, the door to which hangs open on squeaky hinges; and two other voices can be heard arguing loudly from the same general direction.
Also, there is a young man, around Eowyn’s own age, standing very awkwardly with his green jumper and moppish brown hair to the immediate left of the door and looking as if he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be doing with himself. At Eowyn’s bewildered look, he offers her a pained smile and a weird little wave hullo. Eowyn waves weirdly back.
“Yeah – yeah, just a second. We’ve got a client –” The man in the rolly chair looks up at Eowyn and smiles. It is such a very nice, genuinely kind smile that Eowyn cannot help but smile back immediately and then feel her whole face go red; she’d be thoroughly soothed if she wasn’t also feeling so completely out of her depth. Bang bang bang, comes the hammer from the back room, along with a swelling of the arguing voices. “Someone will be with you in a second,” whisper-mouths the man. Then he reaches down, takes off one of his running shoes, and flings it very expertly through the open door. There is a small noise, like a crash, and the other two voices stop. He returns to his phone call.
“... what I was saying. No. No, I don’t want you to be halfway across the world. That’s not the point, the point is your dad stopped practicing ten years ago and now owns a bed and breakfast. He’s not the one who’d be navigating a corrupt healthcare system. Do you know how much lobby money lines the pockets of mega corporations? Remember the whole Nestle baby formula thing? The media definitely doesn’t …” 
“Good afternoon!” declares a second, much louder voice, minutes before its owner materializes behind the cluttered desk. He is more beard than man, wears a very formal and very 1990s plum coloured suit and one single gold earring, and comes up to about Eowyn’s shoulder. He claps his hands together. “Now, which of you was here first? No – don’t tell me, I will guess!”
But his imminent guessing is interrupted by the third voice, floating in: 
“I still can’t find it!”
Desk man deflates by a margin. Without turning his head, he calls, 
“I told you to look in the third box!” 
“I looked there. It’s not there, Gimli. I’ll try going through the books.”
“Why would a thing like that fit in a book?”
“Try the kitchen,” mouths the man on the rolly chair. A muffled woman’s voice comes through his mobile. He has one hand covering his face now, and his head tipped back to face the ceiling. “Well, yes – I do know that. You’re really telling me you don’t want to go to Paris for a year.” While Eowyn watches the meowing blanket pile moves and from within it a truly horrible looking little cat emerges. It shoots one paw out as if intending specifically to scratch its phone-occupied companion; the speed at which he moves his foot to pin the blankets hem and thwart the little paw is bordering on superhuman. Cat hisses pathetically from under its blanket prison. On the speakers, the opera singer has reached a uniquely high pitch in her stanza. “No, obviously I don’t want to do long-distance, I just think — uh huh. Yes. I’d tell anyone to go to Paris. I’d tell Gimli to go, if Gimli’s university was offering to send him to Paris.”
“He’s already tried the kitchen,” says the man at the desk – presumably Gimli. Still, he yells out, “Try the kitchen, would you?”
“I’ve already tried the kitchen!” calls the disembodied voice. “I can’t find it!”
“You can’t find it because of your terrible organizational system.”
“It is not my terrible organizational system, which you know, and besides which I have never had problems with it before.”
“No,” from the rolling chair, “Legolas is maligning my organizational skills. I know you think they’re fine, so you can tell your cousin that on Sunday …”
“Try the kitchen.”
“I’ve tried the kitchen twice.”
Bang bang bang, continues the sound from the back room. Eowyn wonders if there isn’t an ongoing construction project. The young guy on her left, with the moppish hair and jumper, gives her a look as if to say, Filing cabinet, maybe?
“As you can see, gentle lady,” explains Gimli the desk man, very politely to Eowyn, while the second voice declares somewhat redundantly that he is, in fact, going to check the kitchen, “we are a tad busy this afternoon. Someone will be with you momentarily.” He turns, presumably in the kitchen’s direction, and calls out, “if you ask my opinion on the subject again, I’ll wallop you with Aragorn’s dratted guitar!”
Eowyn looks. There indeed is a battered old guitar, perched merrily on a pile of papers behind the front desk, ready to be used for walloping.
“I could come back later,” says Eowyn. She looks over at jumper guy, who’s staring at the still-hissing pile of blankets with some concern. “Can’t really speak for him, though.”
Jumper guy looks aggrieved. “Er – no, I’d rather not come back later. Gandalf said you’d be free to help.”
“And help –” begins Gimli, while there is another crash from the back room (they all wince, though Gimli does it with serenity) “-- we shall! If you give my colleague Legolas a moment to get his head on straight –” (the disembodied voice says something very rude in response to this pointed inflection), “-- then the two of us will be at your disposal.”
“Three of us,” interjects the first, almost forgotten voice. 
Eowyn and her jumper-clad companion turn startled to look: cellphone put away, rolly chair man has stood up to his quite considerable height and is looking at them consideringly. Despite his mildness of expression Eowyn experiences the uncomfortable feeling of being looked at by someone who could in a more fantastical setting have, like, laser vision or something – how is he doing it? And she is sure he isn’t really seeing right through her but she does get the sense he is understanding a lot more than she’d like to let on. Almost defiantly she tugs at her dress and clutches her bike helmet closer to herself. Jumper guy clears his throat. Then from the back room comes – presumably – Legolas, who is fair, thin, and for reasons unexplained wearing sunglasses indoors. He is also covered in what Eowyn hopes are pillow feathers and holding, in one hand, a very large glittering silver sword, and in the other a dingy looking VHS tape. It has cartoon vegetables in cloaks on the front.
“Did anyone know we still had this?” he asks pleasantly, and it is not clear to which find he is referring, “Arwen and I used to stare at it for hours as kids.” He spots Eowyn and her jumper-clad counterpart. “Oh – hello!”
Eowyn gapes. The three of them make a fascinating picture, standing there alongside each other.
“Now then,” says the man called Gimli. “Faramir, we know of already –” he nods at the boy beside Eowyn, who looks a bit bewildered by this, “as Gandalf sent him here! But this young lady we do not. How can we help?”
Perhaps it is the blinding reflection of the hopefully-a-prop sword, but Eowyn is suddenly overtaken by an awful affliction of watery eyes, which has nothing at all to do with her general feelings of overwhelm — until now expertly repressed — she is sure. She feels at once full of despair and yet shaking with eagerness, and everything she’d been desperate to explain to a listening ear gets stuck in her throat in the face of three, admittedly sort of weird (somewhat stern, verging on intense, dipping into outright comical), thoroughly kind faces looking right at her. It suddenly occurs to her how horribly, horribly alone she’s felt for the past six weeks.  
She remains rooted to the spot and tragically mute while Faramir, from beside her, begins all at once,
“I wasn’t sure where to go. I didn’t want it getting back to dad, so Gandalf seemed like the best option — and he said you were very trustworthy, and I do trust Gandalf of course – but it's my brother, you see, he’s disappeared,” vaguely Eowyn is aware of a grim look of surprise rippling through the collective at this reveal, “and it’ll sound crazy but I had this awful dream two weeks ago …”
While Eowyn attempts to wrangle her misbehaving emotions like one would a wobbly-legged yet stubbornly misbehaving colt, an impromptu consultation begins.
“Gone missing?”
“I bet he went hiking or something and lost his phone. It’s happened before.”
“Boromir hates hiking, though. Remember when Aragorn tried to bring him camping with us?”
“No wonder Gandalf sent you here.”
“I have odd dreams too sometimes; they are usually because of indigestion. I’m sure old Boromir’s just fine.”
“No,” insists Faramir, who seems – in Eowyn’s half-attentive estimation – to be doing an admirable job at hiding his surprise at this existing knowledge of his brother. “He’s not answering my texts – it’s like he’s blocked my number, which doesn’t make any sense!”
Eowyn’s head jerks around to stare at him. 
Could it be a coincidence? That is exactly the thought she herself had, not an hour ago, about her own cousin. Is it possible that she isn’t crazy, and her awful yearning for Eomer to be here and not in overnight jail, so someone who is not Eowyn could deal with things, is not childish? She opens her mouth, but her words are stuck again. All she can do is inhale like a small bird puffing up its chest and make a very very faint squeaking noise, which she is mostly sure no one can hear.
“Legolas,” interjects rolly chair man. His sharp grey eyes, which had flitted around briefly and shrewdly throughout the hubbub, are now fixed again on Eowyn, and thoughtful. The commotion dies down. In a mild voice he says, “Maybe you could fetch a clean pair of gym shorts and a blanket to lend our new friend, so she’ll be a bit more comfortable.” 
Eowyn, swaying a bit on the spot, hadn't even realized she was tugging at her dress again. 
“Oh,” she manages.
“Aye, I’d say you’re about the same size,” agrees Gimli, to Legolas, after a beat. “Aragorn has a good eye for these things,” he adds, as if needing their prospective clients in crisis to know this.
“I’ll bring her a comb, too,” says Legolas, not at all meanly, and goes to fetch these things.
“And I’ll put on some tea,” says Aragorn, so named, and for a second time his face softens with that warm, open smile. “I’m Aragorn,” he continues. “Let’s all sit down, and you can both start from the beginning; everything will be alright.”
In the moment after this offer Eowyn locks eyes with Faramir. He is standing next to her. His jumper looks particularly sad now that she is paying attention. He isn’t looking at Aragorn or the sword or the pillow feathers Legolas left behind, but at her. Right at her. There’s a solidarity there. It would be a touching exchange, Eowyn thinks, if not for the fact that the feral cat in its blanket pile has started talking to itself in oddly pitched meows.
A large crash sounds from the back room, accompanied by the sound of a child swearing.
“Yeah, okay,” Eowyn says. 
For the rest of today, at least, she has decided that she refuses to feel alone.
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