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ladywolfmd · 7 years

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First, we'll live.

Summary: The North's King no more and the Queen who should've been are inside her chamber which he guards. He can't hear everything clearly, but the fool's white wolf beside him could. It wasn't that long ago that he stood guard over another queen's chamber and did nothing when he should've. He won't fail again.

Also on AO3.

“You’re hurting me,” they had heard Rhaella cry through the oaken door.

“We are sworn to protect her as well,” Jaime had finally been driven to say.

“We are,” Darry allowed, “But not from him.”

- Feast for Crows, Jaime

Jaime stood closer to the door he was guarding most nights than not.

Once again, he was a sworn knight to another.

Once more, he laid down his sword, his, life, and more vows.

Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard.

Shield to the Mad King Aerys Targaryen, who died by his sword.

Sword to the Usurper King Robert Baratheon, who died by his family's scheming.

Protector to King Joffrey Baratheon, who died by the Tyrell's protection for Queen Margaery.

Counsel to King Tommen Baratheon, who died by his own hand.

Partner and now traitor to Queen Cersei Lannister, who killed their love.

He laughed bitterly. Maybe Joff had the right of it when he read the Book of the Brothers that recounted half a page dedicated to his illustrious career as a kingsguard, ending with him being called Kingslayer which, now that he thought about it, was apt, since he'd outlived all kings he pledged to serve.

And also why he had to turn away from Cersei. As much as it pains him, he wouldn't want to be branded a Queenslayer too should it come down to it.

She'd let the realm bleed so long as she got what she wanted.

Burn them all.

As if fire was the answer to everything even after seeing what the bigger threat was. As much as he still loved Cersei, he didn't want to be witness to her self-destruction. He did not want to hold any part to her demise. He tried everything, tried every reason, and tactic, yet she was too consumed with grief and ambition.

I'm grieving too.

Yet here he was, right back where he started. Pledging to yet another cause, even after so many broken vows.

The clinking of armor and heavy footsteps broke his reverie and he was faced with the Hound. Another disgraced knight such as himself, and like him, pledged to the same person.

"Hound."

"Kingslayer."

Jaime pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh. They must not be disturbed."

Sandor Clegane's expression turned even grimmer than when he walked in, knowing exactly what Jaime meant.

Jaime almost chuckled but bid Sandor to step back a little more in the hallway to talk quietly. "Brings back memories?"

Sandor just grumbled, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, obviously not pleased.

Oh.

Jaime realized then and almost threw his head back in laughter knowing exactly what Sandor felt.

"Do you remember the vows?"

"What fucking vows?"

Jaime straightened and puffed his chest mockingly. "The true knight's vows."

The Hound snorted and grinned crookedly. "Fuck the vows. There are no true knights."

Jaime chuckled and nodded. "True. But there are vows anyway. What was the first one?" He pretended to think. "Oh, I remember now. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave."

He examined Sandor then. "You were brave until you saw the fire."

"Were you fucking brave when you let the Brienne of fucking Tarth, fuck your ass?" He shot back.

Jaime just shrugged. "Well we're brave enough to be here, choosing guard. Now what's the next one... "In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just."

At that both of them burst out laughing.

But then suddenly, Jaime swallowed before saying the next vow. "In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and innocent."

Sandor pursed his lips then. But whatever for? Jaime recalled. He knew that among the Kingsguard, he was the only one who treated Sansa with kindness. And he protected Arya as well as he could too.

"Lastly, in the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women," he ended bitterly when he found out that Sansa Stark, the king's own betrothed, was being ordered stripped and beaten by the Kingsguards, by order of his son the king. He would never have allowed it if he was there.

Would he?

Both of them looked at the door they were both guarding tonight.

It belonged to Catelyn Stark's daughter - the redhaired one, Sansa Stark.

The Queen in the North in all but the name, reduced to being merely the Lady of Winterfell, he thought with indignation.

No matter what they said, Sansa Stark was his chosen queen.

If he was being completely honest, Sansa Stark would probably be the only person he would accept to call, the queen the whole fucking Westeros lost out on but it was just as well because the people don't deserve her as their queen.

While his...sister was blowing septs and the dragon queen was burning men and crops, while the fool of a King in the North was trying to gain both queen's favor, the Lady regent of the North that he left was busy preparing her people to survive the winter and keep the men loyal and in high morale.

Quite a difficult task for any person, but as he's come to observe since he rode to Winterfell, Sansa Stark has been managing quite well.

In fact, incredibly well that not a day comes to pass that a number of the Northern as well as Vale lords try to seek her favor and convince her to take the crown and usurp her dolt of a brother. And as expected, after Jaime helped her uncle, Edmure Tully, round up what was left of the Riverlands, they've pledged to her. Something the dragon queen did not take to well but had to tolerate as she'd tolerated the Vale who also granted Sansa regency until the Lord Paramount of the East, her cousin, Robin Aryn comes of age.

It took a joint effort of Tyrion and Varys to convince the queen not to get in the way since both kingdoms were tied by Tully blood to Sansa Stark, saying that it wouldn't do to insult her since the North already clearly preferred her over the bastard they crowned. Saying that by right of blood alone, Sansa practically held three kingdoms. Four if you counted what's left of the Reach since, while Samwell Tarly the now heir to the Reach, did not take too kindly of the dragon queen burning his brother. If the cards were really rolling, Jaime would bet the Iron born turncloak, Theon Greyjoy, would pledge their fleet to her as well. So no, it wouldn't do her any favors, only bring her more ashes and corpses, if she insults Sansa Stark. Better to gamble on Sansa Stark's unwavering loyalty to her brother to keep the peace. Better to let the people follow her for so long as Sansa Stark refuses the crown, choosing instead to continue following the fucking dolt the North has crowned instead of her in the first place. Jaime's heard all the reports of what happened when they've reclaimed Winterfell.

She could be queen.

She should've been crowned queen in the north from the beginning since they retook Winterfell.

But they couldn't get past the accusation of her being a suspected Kingslayer, and being married to two of her family's traitors. How hypocritical. Jaime thought as the insults felt like ashes in his mouth and filled his chest with fury and sympathy for the young woman he now swore to protect - for life he added.

Sansa Stark should've been crowned as the queen of the fucking North.

But she wasn't.

And the reason she wasn't, was inside her chambers with her.

Jon Snow.

The King in the North no more.

The second king who knelt.

Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

He didn't understand at all why Sansa refused the crown before. It made the most sense for her to take it as it was clear in the Dragonpit meeting that even Daenerys Targaryen, who already affirmed a truce until the threat in the North was eliminated, did not expect Jon Snow to publicly announce his fealty to her. Maybe even not demanding anymore that he bend the knee after seeing the threat. Daenerys Targaryen was going to North anyway to maybe avenge her fallen dragon (In this, Cersei was right to suspect), to act the benevolent savior, or maybe it was more of her acting on her longing looks towards the northern fool. No, Jon Snow did not need to bend the knee.

From that betrayal alone and add the memory of Robb Stark's demise, Sansa had every right to be the queen. She's the one whose doing all the work for many moons already and has the head and heart for it. Her people not only respect her, they loved her.

But, to his vexation, Sansa loved Jon Snow more.

Jon Snow.

The only source of pain Jaime could not shield his chosen Queen from.

It only took one shared look between them when Jon arrived with the Dragon Queen's retinue.

One look was enough for him to understand where the main fault of both the Lady of Winterfell and the Lord of Winterfell stemmed.

It was a look he and Cersei shared not that long ago. The only difference was, these two never acted on those feelings.

Duty over love as was insufferably the Stark way.

"Has the cunt been there for long?" Sandor's gruff voice spat out.

Jaime smirked at him. "Not that long. You just missed him by oh say, a yard's walk?"

"I trust you made it hard for that shite to enter."

"I only let him pass because she ordered me too."

Just then, the blasted white beast crept over and stood sigil in front of the door as well, dropping its large head on its paws while its red eyes were watching them carefully.

Sandor gave a frustrated snort before kicking himself away from the wall. "S'too fucking crowded. Call me if you can't kill him."

Ghost, he recalled he was called. Ghost growled quietly while looking at Sandor who just smirked. "You're not fooling me, wolf. We all know who you're actually loyal too. I'm not a threat to her."

Ghost merely dropped his head back on its paws making Jaime chuckle, not even bothering to watch Sandor walk away, knowing he'll be back later.

Jaime walked back to the door and stood beside Ghost who was, by now, accustomed to him.

Carefully, he removed his glove, using his teeth to find purchase, before scratching behind the wolf's ears. "I'm so glad a direwolf likes me. I remember being on the other end of that far too vividly. Oh yes, your brother was quite ferocious. Almost shit myself to be honest."

The wolf didn't make a sound or move but Jaime knew that it tolerated him well enough. "You belong to her now, don't you?"

Ghost looked up at him then and Jaime smirked. "We all belong to her now." He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

Ghost blinked then closed his eyes.

"Traitor. You were supposed to be first watch!"

The wolf was snoring already and Jaime shook his head, straightening as he stood to take his position by the door again.

He couldn't hear what they were saying...or doing clearly. The two of them were more cautious than that and they knew he was here on guard.

But he had an idea on what it was about.

Jon would ride for war in the morning.

But his other war would end tonight.

After Jon talked with Bran, Bran called for his sisters while Jon left in a snow storm of emotions to wherever he went to brood.

Afterwards, when he was walking Sansa to her chambers, he saw her control slipping more and more, her eyes, blinking more than usual while her hands wrenched against each other, and she was unusually quiet.

That's why instead of closing the door behind her, he went inside and closed the door after him and gave her a look.

"What is it?"

Sansa sat down then and held her hands in her lap and said nothing but the way she held herself so tightly, fighting tears alarmed him.

She was starting to feel better!

Jaime knelt in front of her then and used the tip of his finger to raise her chin up to him and was startled from the way her eyes looked even more achingly haunting with tears.

"What is it? Sansa, you can tell me. I swear I won't say a word," he promised.

Sansa swallowed and debated before finally leaning her head against his chest. Jaime didn't move closer as he would've wanted, but he needed Sansa to trust him. So he settled for placing his hand on the back of her head and kept still, waiting, thinking what this could possibly be about this time.

"J-Jaime," she muttered.

"Yes, Sansa?"

"He's not - he's not," she cried some more and trembled.

He started stroking her hair then. "Take your time."

He felt Sansa grip his jerkin then but kept her face down. "Jon is not my brother."

She finally said.

It took some time before the full implication and effect of the words hit him.

The fucking bastard, was going to get everything he wanted. Was his initial thought and brought a bad taste in his mouth. And then he realized that Sansa was still crying. Why?

Shouldn't she feel relieved?

Jaime was.

He was happy that Sansa wasn't...ill in thought and feelings. The more that he thought about it, the more he was happy for her sake.

Not that he immediately thought this meant Sansa and the dolt could now be.

It was more because now she wouldn't torture herself with feeling so dirty and wrong with her feelings.

"Darling girl, why the tears? Seems I'm the only one with the affliction after all," he tried.

Sansa looked up at him then. "I am relieved but this is more than that. This is more than us..."

And then she told him everything.

And just so, his initial thought was still there. Bastard was going to get everything.

And sadly he thought, now where would this leave me?

But before he could ask, a knock at the door interrupted them. And just so, with Sansa's permission, Jaime stood guard outside, as Jon Snow and Sansa Stark were going to talk in his lady's chambers.

He could hear muffled voices, sometimes raised, sometimes, even legible from where he was standing.

"You don't understand!"

"What does

----mean?"

"Mean for what?"

"----them?"

"us...?"

Jaime was then reminded of memories he didn't particularly like to dwell on. One of him guarding the Queen's chambers as well while the King took his pleasure... at the cost of the queen's pain.

Pain he couldn't protect her from.

Queen Rhaella Targaryen would always be his one greatest failure as a knight.

A guilt he carried that was the only reason he was giving her daughter, Daenerys Targaryen some benefit of a doubt. But he's killed a Mad Targaryen before, a failure to his vows as they called him Kingslayer but it was an act he would never regret.

And now his chosen queen was with the king she chose - a king who repeatedly hurt her, not physically, but there were other things that could cut sharper than swords. He pressed closer then, his sword at the ready.

He doesn't care what this would cost him.

Sansa Stark was his last chance for honor, and was the only bright and sensible thing in the fucked up world. He tried his best to shield her from these feelings lest they ruin her as they ruined him and Cersei by proving as a friend, or at the least, a distraction.

The world needed someone like Sansa Stark to bring order to chaos. He would do all to keep her alive.

And just like all of her people, he'd come to love his queen too, though he doesn't know how to fully label that love. Admiration? Paternal? Platonic?

More?

Sansa Stark was ridiculously easy to admire. The rest follows just as easily. Her smiles were few but they were victories. And he so delighted to drive Jon Snow mad with jealousy while he brought his affections to the young Lady of Winterfell in full view of the Dolt in the North.

Rejoicing in making her laugh even at his expense, just so it could distract her from her own carefully concealed jealousy of the Dragon Queen's presence.

So he'd listen. He'd wait. At the sign of any line crossing, he'd run his sword through the King who Knelt.

He hated not knowing what was going on. Sansa was vulnerable.

Jon was vulnerable.

Was this really the best time for this?

He looked down at the wolf who was sleeping soundly. This wolf was more sensitive to his mistress. At least he'll be able to tell...

Still he pressed his ear against the door, closed his eyes, and strained to listen.

"What...going to do -Jon?"

"What d... you think....do?"

"...Sansa?"

...

"Please?"

"Now? Now you're asking me now?"

"Yes."

A frustrated breath.

"I am lost," some rustling is heard, a weight dropped against the floor.

Sobbing.

Another rustle of garments - her heavy skirts probably, and the clink of chains.

"No one has to know."

A pained cry and a sucked in breath.

"But what about-

Jaime shut his eyes tight and concentrated now.

"But what? But nothing Jon--

"Sansa--you know what."

A sigh.

"It's not wise." Jaime could just imagine her shaking her head sadly but firmly.

"Jon, it's not wise," she said more firmly. He heard her walking heavily away a few paces.

"I'm tired of everything!" Jon shouted in frustration.

"Everything?"

...

"Yes."

"You have to be more specific."

"The games...fighting....but most of all, I'm tired of pretending."

...

Silence. Jaime couldn't hear anything. No movement, no voices. He assume they were staring at each other at this point until he heard Sansa's voice.

"Pretending? Pretending to be what? Your queen's lover?"

A growl and a gasp was heard and stomping approach that Jaime held the pommel, his elbow ready to shove the door open.

"Pretending I don't have feelings for you."

A muffled sound almost strangled almost made Jaime kick the door down.

No men can just take from her what they will. Jaime gritted his teeth.

But a shove and a slap was what he heard then that made him pause.

Followed by an apology.

"I'm sorry I -

"Don't be sorry, Sansa. I deserved that."

More silence.

"Jon, we can't..."

"What do you mean we can't? The only good this revelation revealed is this!"

A sigh.

"I meant now...not yet. Now is not the right time."

"But this could secure -

"Oh so it's back to duty then Jon? Use duty as an excuse again? Another political marriage, Jon?"

"I didn't mean--I didn't think--

"No, you didn't think."

Another tired sigh. "You think I haven't thought of that possibility? Jon, I want it more that you can know, it's true. I do. I do want it. Not... because of duty. But there's no time. You leave tomorrow. You battle tomorrow. Bringing this out now would only cause more unrest among the unified armies we fought so hard to unite."

"And Jon?"

"Sansa?"

"...think of your queen."

...

A groan. "You're right. You're always right."

"Thank you."

Laughter.

Jaime relaxed a little then. Sansa was right. If they reveal it now at the eve of battle, it would cause an outrage over the northmen, and another bigger one from the Targaryen side now that there was another claimant to the throne.

"I love you. It's always been you. Everything I did, it was for you. I thought you should know that."

A sigh. "I do know that Jon. At least, I do now."

"Do you love me?"

"Oh Jon, if you have to ask..."

A muffled moan and Jaime knew their mouths have met again.

Jaime wanted to sigh, feeling a bit bittersweet. He hated this but he also wanted for Sansa to get everything she wanted. And if she wanted this stupid bastard, he won't stand in her way.

Unless he absolutely needed to that is, he smiled wryly.

We should all take what happiness is thrown our way in this miserable world.

"I love you Jon."

"Ah that feels so nice to hear."

"Jon?"

"Yes, my love?"

"We still can't...at least not now."

A drawn out sigh. "Then I just have to come back."

"Why do you say it that way as if you've planned on not coming back?"

"I thought...forget it."

"What? Jon?"

"Don't get me wrong. I would do my damnedest to make sure you are all safe. I'll gladly give my life if need be but not before making sure you are out of harm's way."

"You mean to die in the battle field and abandon me again in your ridiculous notion of protecting me. I told you to stop trying!"

"That was before I thought I had nothing waiting for me back here!"

A sucked in breath.

"You are going to be the best ruler Winterfell has ever had. And you have enough support to keep it. Men have been pledging left and right to you. You will not lack of people wanting to protect you - besides - " he paused.

"Besides what?"

"Nothing."

"Besides what, Jon?"

"You have your sworn shield."

"You mean, oh, Jon. You mean Ser Jaime?" she said in a lower voice probably remembering that he was out there.

Jaime stiffened then both wanting and not wanting to hear further.

"He loves you."

"Wha-

"Sansa, come on. That man is in love with you. So is the Hound. And Lord Tyrion is fond of you. I don't blame them. Who wouldn't love you?"

"Jon this is-

"Ridiculous? Sansa. Even if I am gone, you will not lack love."

"But its your love despite giving me the most agony, what I want."

"Sansa--"

"I hate you because I can't hate you. I loathe you because with you there's always nothing to forgive even though I'm smarter than - than this. Even though I know better. But you can't choose who you love, can you? And the gods have cursed me to love you, you stupid fool."

"You...tear...me...apart... it's true," she whispered that Jaime barely heard it. "But your love is the only thing that can make me whole."

"You - you shouldn't love me that much. I don't deserve -

"No, you don't deserve me. You never listen to me. You never consult me. You do foolish things you claim out of love for me. But I love you anyway - Jon I--

She stopped and Jaime knew she was in Jon's arms.

"I'm so so sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you but I'll say it again, everything I've done - I was always thinking about you. And I won't be sorry for that. I won't be sorry for putting your safety first. I don't care if you don't forgive me. Or even hate me."

Sansa scoffed. "You're not listening again. I told you...there's nothing to forgive."

"Sansa."

"Jon."

"I will come back to you. I swear it. And I will make this right. And I' won't go back to pretending anymore. I'd take the damn chair if it comes to that. I will come back to you."

"Don't promise."

"I have to."

"Jon."

"Sansa."

"Fine."

"But should I fall, which won't happen, Sansa, I won't be the only man who can put you back together. You don't even need a man to do that. You are capable of doing that yourself. And Sansa?"

"Yes Jon?"

"Lots of things tear me apart. But only you make everything worth it. Only you."

"Jon...Just...just do your best to come back."

"I will. And after this war is over...?" he trailed in question.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jon."

...

"What do we do now?"

"What do you want to do?

"What was it that you told me your wildling lover used to say to you? We can all die tomorrow."

"But first we'll live."

"Then let's live."

...

"Sans - are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

At this point, Jaime stepped away from the door, his mouth a straight line as he heard the new sounds that were coming from inside.

Jaime sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his mind having a war of its own.

"Well bugger you, they're going to fuck, aren't they?"

Jaime smirked at the Hound and raised a brow.

"Yes, yes, I think they will."

The Hound looked disgusted. "She let him off too easy."

Jaime just sighed and shrugged before crossing his arms against his chest. "It's what she wants."

The Hound leant against the wall opposite him and grumbled. "Aye, that's what the little bird wants."

"He said he doesn't deserve her."

"Har! No one deserves her," Sandor scoffed.

"He also said you were in love with her."

Sandor grinned wickedly at him. "I bet the fucker told her Jaime fucking Lannister is in love with her too."

Jaime chuckled. "He did."

"Do you?"

Jaime shrugged. "Maybe?" Jaime was honestly not sure. There was something there, he can acknowledge potential, because there really was. But he didn't ride for Winterfell to fall in love and live happily ever after.

"Well, at least there's one more cunt to wish the bastard shit himself tomorrow."

Jaime's shoulders shook as he laughed quietly. "Perhaps."

Ghost stirred and eyed them both.

Jaime crouched down and petted his head."Don't worry boy, I don't believe your master will die. Only your mistress is allowed to kill him."

The Hound cackled while Ghost shut his eyes again after opening its mouth to yawn and lick at his teeth.

Jaime had a vow to uphold, an honor to restore. Guarding Sansa and ensuring her happiness would be enough to make him die a happy man. He's seen too much of this world than nurse another heart ache. There were many other kinds of love that he could give her. After all, he was deprived of other kinds of love as well, like being a father or being a woman's friend, a subject who loves his liege.

But for now, a loving Queensguard would do.

So he stood up straight, got back to position, and guarded a Queen that was finally worth guarding.

He could still remember finding her after her sister, Arya pointed out that she didn't need a shield, pushing him towards her sister in the Godswood, where he knelt in front of her and made another vow.

"Lady Sansa, allow me to fulfill my vow to your mother and allow me to make a new vow to you too. I will shield your back, and keep your counsel, and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

She could've had him executed on site - her sister was watching, or banished. But Sansa Stark, who kept counsel with the right people, trusted Brienne at her word and accepted him without question and without falter.

"And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. I pledge to ask no service of you that may bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new. Arise, Ser Jaime."

#ladymdfic #jonsafic #actuallyjonsa #post-season7 #jon snow x sansa stark #jaime lannister in the middle #fanfiction

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dfroza · 3 years

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Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for Thursday, november 26 of 2020 with Proverbs 26 and Psalm 26, accompanied by Psalm 66 for the 66th day of Autumn, and Psalm 31 for day 331 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 3rd revolution this year)

[Psalm 26]

A song of David.

Declare my innocence, O Eternal One!

I have walked blamelessly down this path.

I placed my trust in the Eternal and have yet to stumble.

Put me on trial and examine me, O Eternal One!

Search me through and through—from my deepest longings to every thought that crosses my mind.

Your unfailing love is always before me;

I have journeyed down Your path of truth.

My life is not wasted among liars;

my days are not spent among cheaters.

I despise every crowd intent on evil;

I do not commune with the wicked.

I wash my hands in the fountain of innocence

so that I might join the gathering that surrounds Your altar, O Eternal One.

From my soul, I will join the songs of thanksgiving;

I will sing and proclaim Your wonder and mystery.

Your house, home to Your glory, O Eternal One, radiates its light.

I am fixed on this place and long to be nowhere else.

When Your wrath pursues those who oppose You,

those swift to sin and thirsty for blood,

spare my soul and grant me life.

These men hold deceit in their left hands,

and in their right hands, bribery and lies.

But God, I have walked blamelessly down this path,

and this is my plea for redemption.

This is my cry for Your mercy.

Here I stand secure and confident

before all the people; I will praise the Eternal.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 26 (The Voice)

[Proverbs 26]

It is totally out of place to promote and honor a fool,

just like it’s out of place to have snow in the summer

and rain at harvest time.

An undeserved curse will be powerless to harm you.

It may flutter over you like a bird,

but it will find no place to land.

Guide a horse with a whip,

direct a donkey with a bridle,

and lead a rebellious fool with a beating on his backside!

Don’t respond to the words of a fool with more foolish words,

or you will become as foolish as he is!

Instead, if you’re asked a silly question,

answer it with words of wisdom

so the fool doesn’t think he’s so clever.

If you choose a fool to represent you,

you’re asking for trouble.

It will be as bad for you as cutting off your own feet!

You can never trust the words of a fool,

just like a crippled man can’t trust his legs to support him.

Give honor to a fool and watch it backfire—

like a stone tied to a slingshot.

The statements of a fool will hurt others

like a thorn bush brandished by a drunk.

Like a reckless archer shooting arrows at random

is the impatient employer

who hires just any fool who comes along—

someone’s going to get hurt!

Fools are famous for repeating their errors,

like dogs are known to return to their vomit.

There’s only one thing worse than a fool,

and that’s the smug, conceited man

always in love with his own opinions.

[Don’t Be Lazy]

The lazy loafer says,

“I can’t go out and look for a job—

there may be a lion out there roaming wild in the streets!”

As a door is hinged to the wall,

so the lazy man keeps turning over, hinged to his bed!

There are some people so lazy

they won’t even work to feed themselves.

A self-righteous person is convinced he’s smarter

than seven wise counselors who tell him the truth.

It’s better to grab a mad dog by its ears

than to meddle and interfere in a quarrel

that’s none of your business.

[Watch Your Words]

The one who is caught lying to his friend

and says, “I didn’t mean it, I was only joking,”

can be compared to a madman

randomly shooting off deadly weapons.

It takes fuel to have a fire—

a fire dies down when you run out of fuel.

So quarrels disappear when the gossip ends.

Add fuel to the fire and the blaze goes on.

So add an argumentative man to the mix

and you’ll keep strife alive.

Gossip is so delicious, and how we love to swallow it!

For slander is easily absorbed into our innermost being.

Smooth talk can hide a corrupt heart

just like a pretty glaze covers a cheap clay pot.

Kind words can be a cover to conceal hatred of others,

for hypocrisy loves to hide behind flattery.

So don’t be drawn in by the hypocrite,

for his gracious speech is a charade,

nothing but a masquerade covering his hatred and evil on parade.

Don’t worry—he can’t keep the mask on for long.

One day his hypocrisy will be exposed before all the world.

Go ahead, set a trap for others—

and then watch as it snaps back on you!

Start a landslide and you’ll be the one who gets crushed.

Hatred is the root of slander

and insecurity the root of flattery.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 26 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 66]

All together now—applause for God!

Sing songs to the tune of his glory,

set glory to the rhythms of his praise.

Say of God, “We’ve never seen anything like him!”

When your enemies see you in action,

they slink off like scolded dogs.

The whole earth falls to its knees—

it worships you, sings to you,

can’t stop enjoying your name and fame.

Take a good look at God’s wonders—

they’ll take your breath away.

He converted sea to dry land;

travelers crossed the river on foot.

Now isn’t that cause for a song?

Ever sovereign in his high tower, he keeps

his eye on the godless nations.

Rebels don’t dare

raise a finger against him.

Bless our God, O peoples!

Give him a thunderous welcome!

Didn’t he set us on the road to life?

Didn’t he keep us out of the ditch?

He trained us first,

passed us like silver through refining fires,

Brought us into hardscrabble country,

pushed us to our very limit,

Road-tested us inside and out,

took us to hell and back;

Finally he brought us

to this well-watered place.

I’m bringing my prizes and presents to your house.

I’m doing what I said I’d do,

What I solemnly swore I’d do

that day when I was in so much trouble:

The choicest cuts of meat

for the sacrificial meal;

Even the fragrance

of roasted lamb is like a meal!

Or make it an ox

garnished with goat meat!

All believers, come here and listen,

let me tell you what God did for me.

I called out to him with my mouth,

my tongue shaped the sounds of music.

If I had been cozy with evil,

the Lord would never have listened.

But he most surely did listen,

he came on the double when he heard my prayer.

Blessed be God: he didn’t turn a deaf ear,

he stayed with me, loyal in his love.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 66 (The Message)

[Psalm 31]

A David Psalm

I run to you, God; I run for dear life.

Don’t let me down!

Take me seriously this time!

Get down on my level and listen,

and please—no procrastination!

Your granite cave a hiding place,

your high cliff aerie a place of safety.

You’re my cave to hide in,

my cliff to climb.

Be my safe leader,

be my true mountain guide.

Free me from hidden traps;

I want to hide in you.

I’ve put my life in your hands.

You won’t drop me,

you’ll never let me down.

I hate all this silly religion,

but you, God, I trust.

I’m leaping and singing in the circle of your love;

you saw my pain,

you disarmed my tormentors,

You didn’t leave me in their clutches

but gave me room to breathe.

Be kind to me, God—

I’m in deep, deep trouble again.

I’ve cried my eyes out;

I feel hollow inside.

My life leaks away, groan by groan;

my years fade out in sighs.

My troubles have worn me out,

turned my bones to powder.

To my enemies I’m a monster;

I’m ridiculed by the neighbors.

My friends are horrified;

they cross the street to avoid me.

They want to blot me from memory,

forget me like a corpse in a grave,

discard me like a broken dish in the trash.

The street-talk gossip has me

“criminally insane”!

Behind locked doors they plot

how to ruin me for good.

Desperate, I throw myself on you:

you are my God!

Hour by hour I place my days in your hand,

safe from the hands out to get me.

Warm me, your servant, with a smile;

save me because you love me.

Don’t embarrass me by not showing up;

I’ve given you plenty of notice.

Embarrass the wicked, stand them up,

leave them stupidly shaking their heads

as they drift down to hell.

Gag those loudmouthed liars

who heckle me, your follower,

with jeers and catcalls.

What a stack of blessing you have piled up

for those who worship you,

Ready and waiting for all who run to you

to escape an unkind world.

You hide them safely away

from the opposition.

As you slam the door on those oily, mocking faces,

you silence the poisonous gossip.

Blessed God!

His love is the wonder of the world.

Trapped by a siege, I panicked.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” I said.

But you heard me say it,

you heard and listened.

Love God, all you saints;

God takes care of all who stay close to him,

But he pays back in full

those arrogant enough to go it alone.

Be brave. Be strong. Don’t give up.

Expect God to get here soon.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 31 (The Message)

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