#her bovine majesty

[prettyprettypaci2]

Squire - Part 7 and Epilogue

👑 Start From the Beginning 👑

"M-mm-mmm. Mooooooooooo!"

Like a tumbler at the county fair, your stomach twists and contorts itself into improbable knots. You feel off-balance and take a step forward, only to feel the tug of the pink breastplate from your leather baby reins; Blackwood holds you fast while the Royal Interpreter looks on, unsmiling as she strokes a large white rabbit in her arms. You fear you're about to be sick all over the fine new silk dress Madame Matilda put on you this morning. Its stiff crêpe skirt flares out at your belly button, leaving your fresh white diaper on full display.

"My dear friend, what has become of you?!" You sob.

Unable to remain standing under your own power, you feel Blackwood mercifully give your baby reins some slack as you fall to your knees. Your smooth, shining legs straddle the puffy diaper that droops between them.

"Mooooooo! Moooooooooooooo!"

The blonde squire you once knew as Mouse presses against the wooden slats of this outdoor enclosure, their pale face painted with soft mud. Their erstwhile tiny body is subsumed by a heavy garment printed with a holstein pattern, which is padded to mimic the proportions of a dairy cow. You recoil in horror as a wet BLAAAAAART from Mouse's rear end is followed by an expansion of the padding below their stomach, adding even more weight to your former companion's bovine form. Their whole costume is a single, colossal diaper! It pads them from the rattling cowbell around their neck to the tips of their hoof-clad toes!

Mouse's eyes are vacant and without emotion as they stare stupidly in your direction, though their pupils dilate the moment your gazes meet. For a moment, they are still. Then, with a soft whimper, they turn away from you and saunter off on all fours, their cowbell announcing every lumbering movement as they drag themselves slowly to a feeding trough on the far side of the pen. They continue to fart noisily, adding ever more girth to the full-body diaper encasing them.

You shudder as you tear your eyes away from the miserable scene, seeking comfort in the sight of your own comparatively small diaper. You realize you're instinctively trying to piss, though you must have already wet yourself; the thick padding has become dark and yellow.

"Is this to be my fate as well?" You croak. Your mouth has gone drier than sand, though tears drip from your eyes.

"The squire will not speak without being spoken to!" Blackwood barks, his sallow face contorting in rage. "The squire does not question what royalty wishes for it! The squire is an object, a brainless toy, a -- "

"You are dismissed, minister." The Royal Interpreter's silky alto voice leaves Blackwood struck dumb. "Remove the squire's reins and tend to other matters. Her Majesty will have words alone with it."

"B-but, Your Highness!" Blackwood stammers, his mouth agape. "You cannot be left alone with this squire. It is stubborn and headstrong, and it has now seen Your Majesty's Dairy! I have it on firm suspicion that it attempted to escape the Squirey by aid of that treasonous cow!"

"Blackwood! We suffer no more challenges from the Minister of Our Holdings than we do from our squires! You have been given a command."

The color seems to drain from Blackwood's face. Despite your disgust and awe at Mouse's pathetic state, you cannot help but feel satisfaction as he is dressed down by this slender woman half his age. With rough hands, Blackwood pulls you back onto your velvet heels, unfastens the reins around your torso, and frees you from captivity. With an awkward tap of his thin black rod on the soft ground, he departs for the stables, walking stiffly.

A soft breeze catches your extremely short crêpe skirt, and you shiver from your relative lack of clothing in the autumn air. You're unsure what to do now that you're alone with the Royal Interpreter and her rabbit -- one of the hundreds you had found beneath the hollow of the tree during the Hunt.

After that day, you had spent a week confined to some dusty tower where not even Pig could manage to visit you. The only interruption to your isolation came when a handmaiden would enter to feed you gruel and change your soiled diaper. You could sense the gravity of what you had discovered in the woods, but did not fully understand what it meant...or how much danger you were in for having seen it.

The Royal Interpreter examines your face as Mouse lows softly a short distance away. You grasp at your skirts and perform a quick curtsy, but are too terrified to add the customary giggle. At last, the young woman speaks:

"You were the heir to the Duchy of Berceau."

It doesn't appear to be a question, and you're unsure how to react. It was a title you had not heard in so long...for over a year, you have simply been 'squire' or 'it.' You lower your chin in the gentlest nod.

The Royal Interpreter bends at the knees, letting the rabbit in her hands wriggle out of her grasp and hop a few paces away, where it grooms itself carelessly. She then lifts the hem of her dress and steps over to a milking stool near Mouse's pen, easing herself down before patting her legs with both hands.

"Come. Sit on my lap."

You're breathing heavily. A few moments ago, you had imagined you were about to be imprisoned in an enormous diaper and tossed into the pen with mindless, mooing Mouse, living out the rest of your miserable days as Her Majesty's milk cow. With Blackwood dismissed and the so-called "Queen" paying no heed, you're now entirely unsure what this is all about. With another curtsy, you approach the Royal Interpreter and allow your diaper to squish against her knee, which she begins to bounce as she wraps a firm hand around your back. Deprived of Pig's companionship for more than a week, you can't help but gasp and feel excited as the mushy padding massages you down below.

"Once upon a time," the young woman says, keeping up the rhythm of her bouncing. "There was a beautiful princess who was the jewel of the land. Everyone from the highest noble to the lowliest commoner was smitten with her charms. Her mother hoped she would grow to become a powerful and fearsome Queen, but the princess had a secret."

The Royal Interpreter brushes a lock of hair from your eyes before sliding one of her thumbs between your open lips. Paralyzed with confusion, you simply suckle and slurp on the young woman's hand as she goes on with her tale.

"The princess could not keep her bed dry. Throughout her life, a laundress came each morning to collect the wet linens and replace them with new, before any of the servants could see. The laundress had a daughter, in whom the princess often confided. They would sneak off into the woods and find places to hide, where the two of them could talk and play make-believe all day."

Your cheeks bulge around the young woman's thumb as you continue to suckle. A clattering of bells behind you announces that Mouse has clambered back. Drool drips from their mouth as they eye you curiously.

"The princess and her friend loved the woods, where they would imagine themselves as all manner of animals. One day, while hunting, the Queen discovered the princess pretending to be a rabbit. All the lords and ladies saw this woman of majority hopping about, eating scraps from the ground, and wetting the diapers the laundress' daughter had swaddled her in. The Queen was furious! She swore an actual rabbit would sit on the throne before she ever let the princess lead her kingdom, insane as she must have been."

The young woman begins bouncing you faster as Mouse moos plaintively, and you thrust your hips in unison, aching for relief.

"When the Queen died unexpectedly, the disinherited princess simply vanished. It was just as well, for that last promise made in a moment of anger was enforcable by law: a rabbit was crowned in her stead. The kingdom descended into chaos, until the laundress' daughter stepped forward. She could speak to the rabbit...and tell the ministers and councilors and bishops and generals everything they wanted to hear. They were so desperate for a leader, they allowed themselves to believe it was true."

"There were advantages to this strange zoocracy," she goes on. "When illness or old age or a clever assassin got the better of Her Majesty, another rabbit was always in waiting. The laundress' daughter kept hundreds in the woods, along with her favorite pet of all."

You inhale sharply and mumble around the thumb in your mouth. "Duh pwincess."

"Yes, the 'pwincess,'" the Royal Interpreter nods, stone-faced despite her amusement. "The princess who was unfit to rule, for she desired nothing more than to live as a diapered pet, and to toy with other diapered pets like her. But the laundress' daughter sought her advice on every detail of governing. And together, they hatched a scheme where Her Majesty would train squires to entertain and serve at court. Diapered squires who barked and giggled and made fools of themselves, just as the princess had made a fool of herself...all so she could at last return home."

"But even the princess needed to be broken."

You hear the familiar voice interrupt the story, and a soft hand press into the front of your diaper from behind. You moan and squirm as Pig, who had approached from outside your view, kneads your padding gently. The Royal Interpreter continues to bounce her knee and stroke your slurping tongue with her thumb.

"The princess had begun having second thoughts," the Royal Interpreter goes on. "The laundress' daughter was terrified of losing her friend again. But she had power now -- perhaps more than anyone had ever had. She would train her lovely squire to love this new life, just as she would all of her squires thereafter."

"Or, out of jealous love," Pig says -- you feel their lips brush against your ear as they grab your head and twist it to face Mouse, who moos and floods their massive diaper with yet more sludge -- "She would turn her into this."

You scream, not from terror, but from ecstasy. The bouncing of the young woman's knee, the manipulations of Pig's hand, the thumb in your mouth and the sight of Mouse's humiliation forge a cacophony of sensations that send you spinning over the edge. Your hips buckle and shake as you search out every last drop of pleasure within the thick diaper that has become your most beloved companion. You fall back against Pig and continue to suckle the thumb, bathing in the glow of your dissipating excitement.

For the first time ever, you see the Royal Interpreter smile. It is soft, and cruel, and beautiful.

"The end."

👑 👑 👑

You are reminded of your first day at court as your heels clack against the marble: all the eyes of the lords and ladies burning into your skin as you danced and sang and showed off your diapers like a giggling fool. You suppose it was not so different from how today will transpire. Some lecherous lord is sure to pick you up and slap your diapered bottom. You will certainly laugh and curtsy as you're ordered to crawl on your knees, to eat something off the floor, or to climb into a lap and fill up your padding.

But today it will feel different. Because today you will have a name.

The Royal Interpreter sits on her throne, stroking some rabbit or another who has been chosen to play the Queen. There is no flicker of recognition in her face; no betrayal of your chance meeting in the hollow or of the story she told you at the Dairy. In a way, you are as terrified of this woman as you ever were. Because now you know the fate that will befall you if you ever dare to cross her.

Pig's glittering pink hair catches your eye as you stoop into a curtsy before the Queen. They smile mysteriously, having found the perfect spot to witness your naming.

A nervous dribble fills your diaper, and you giggle genuinely. Never have you been so proud to be so humiliated.

The Royal Interpreter lifts the rabbit to her ear to make a show of listening intently. Your stomach churns as she sets the creature down in her lap, knowing your moment has finally come.

"Little Sparrow."

The words are non-chalant, almost bored. But it doesn't matter. Tears of joy roll down your cheeks and you fall to your knees, overwhelmed with excitement. You see Pig lick their lips, perhaps imagining how they intend to celebrate with you when the evening comes to an end.

You are a squire. At last, a proper squire!

And you will be a squire forever.

A Story by Paci

Thank you for reading.

#ab dl diaper #ab dl lifestyle #ab dl mommy #diaper pee #diaper sissy #diaper training #diaper gal #diapered247 #ab dl girl #huc0w

[suzubelle-chan]

Breaking Chains Chapter 1

(Just a quick note, you may be spoiled if you haven’t finished the manga up to say Volume 12 since I mention characters and events that happen later on. Just in case you haven’t gotten that far or want to watch the anime first)

Thank you so much Ipham2525 for beta reading this fic! Now onto the story!

In which an unusual doctor makes a house call to the Sacrificial Princess

The King of Beasts roared at the menagerie of doctors cowering before him. Two weeks ago, he demanded that all available doctors gather at his castle. They crammed in, eager to earn the king’s favor. However, the roars of his majesty only grew louder, stronger, and more frequent in frustration.

For not one of the doctors could cure the human princess.

“Incompetent fools!” The king glared at the men, Beasts of all kinds faltering at his feet.

“Forgive us, your majesty,” said a bull from the Black Bovine-folk, either braver or forced to the front of the group to speak for all of them.

“Each and every one of you swore that you were the finest in your lands, if not the whole realm. Yet, none of you have done a single thing to help our queen.”

“Well,” a Rooster-folk raised his head slightly. “There was no mention that your bride was human….”

“Sounds like excuses,” the king growled out.

Another beast, more ears than head, sputtered, “S…she’s just too different! None of us here can treat a human.”

A woman’s voice called out, “Maybe you’re just a bunch of cowards who didn’t try enough.”

Everyone in the hall turned to see a lone crow standing there amongst the kneeling doctors. She was short, with a hood almost covering her eyes. A cloak covered her body, but still, they could make her out to be plump. A few feathers in her right wing held a large bag with a handle.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Anubis asked.

“I am known as Leona Carrin.” The birdfolk bowed, her beak moving slightly with each word. “I heard that there was someone sick in the King of Beasts’ castle so I came here.”

“But you’re a woman,” the lord speaker protested, all four of his eyes glaring.

The bird person tipped her head. “Huh, what was your first clue?” She glanced down at her chest and then covered it with her wings. “Excuse me sir, I’m a married woman, thank you very much.”

Gasps from doctors and fellow chancellors boomed throughout the hall.  Some snickers escaped from the younger soldiers standing guard. A quick glare from Anubis silenced them.

“We don’t require a midwife. I don’t know how you got in here, but be off with you.” Another council member with large pointed ears dismissed her with the wave of a skinny hand.

Leona leaned in, pointing a feather. “Hey! Don’t go insulting midwifery, it’s a grand profession. One most people owe their lives to. I can act as a midwife and doctor, whatever my patients need more. And I got in through the front door, like the other doctors. Though if being a woman disqualifies me…” The woman flopped over, tugging at her head. A black piece of fabric came off, along with her beak. Men gasped as black hair spilled out of her costume.  When she arose, the men saw a human face with brown eyes, the hair flowing down past her waist, covering half her face. A white streak in her hair acted as a dividing line between hair and skin. She tugged at her wings until they came off along with a pair of black gloves. Her lips smirked as she crossed her arms revealing her rough hands. “Then I guess being human isn’t going to help my chances.”

No beast stirred.

The human blinked; head tilted. “What is it, my breath?” She raised up her right hand, exhaled, and then sniffed. She then shrugged and turned back to the men.

“What are you doing here?” The King of Beasts asked, scowling.

“I heard there was a sick person, probably human. Some rumors disagreed on species, but human kept coming up so here I am.” She then started making small circles with her hands. “Although, no one could tell me if this was the ‘hacking-up-a lung, fever, throwing up’ kind of sick or the ‘mood swings, mad ravings, trying to eat socks’ kind of sick. Which is it?”

There was a slight pause as all the men looked at each other, asking if they were all seeing and hearing the same thing.

“What’s a sock?” one lizard soldier leaned in, whispering.

A fox soldier leaned in towards his comrade. “I think it’s a thing humans put on their feet.”

“Uh…the first one?” the king stated uncertainly.

“Thank you. I like to knowing what to expect in a patient’s room.” Leona picked up her bag and took several steps. “She’s in this room, right? Unless you like group around and argue outside of totally innocent broom closets.”

Anubis launched and stationed himself right in front of the human. “Now stop right there, human. You have no right to be here.”

The human doctor sighed, looking the minister right in the eye. “I know you don’t like me. I’m human so it’s a given. You have no reason to like me. But you don’t have to like me to let me do my job. You’ve let all kinds of people treat this princess of your majesty, maybe you need one more kind. I’ve never turned down a patient, regardless of wealth, status, or how many fingers they’ve got. ‘If you can, help.’ That’s been my family’s motto and I intend to live by it.”

Leonhart watched this small woman almost glare at his minister. Her brown eyes shone, determination brightening them. Just like how Sariphi’s eyes shone whenever she declared her intentions, steadfast and strong. He sighed the smallest of sighs.

“That is the room you seek, human. Anubis, let her pass.”

The chancellor turned towards his lord. “Sire!”

The king held his paw out. “She speaks the truth. We’ve asked other doctors to cure our queen consort. So, we shall ask one more.”

“Thank you.” Leona gave a bow, hand extended behind her. She then took several steps towards the menagerie of doctors and then rummaged through her bag, pulling out a ring made out of blue stone, placing it on her left hand. She then pulled out a pen and some paper. She licked the pen and posed, ready to write. “Alright, patient name?”

“Why ask us that?”

“I want to be sure we are all working on the same person. You’d be surprised how often I find patients with some kind of amnesia or dealing with some shady people, trying to pass off one person as another. So patient name?”

“Sariphi.”

As pen broke through paper, Leona flinched. “I’m sorry?”

“Sariphi. Her name is Sariphi.”

Leona tilted her head, shaking a bit. “That’s a name? Are you sure it isn’t short for Seraphina or Saphira or some other Saphy-ish name?”

“No.”

“Okay…” She then wrote it down with beasts catching her mutter, “Parents and their crazy baby names.” She then spoke out loud. “Last name?”

The beasts blinked. The chancellor said, “What?”

“Her last name, family name…” The woman stared at the beasts in confusion. “It’s something all humans have. You heard mine, Carrin, I got it from my parents.” She then turned to the King of Beasts, “You never told her doctors your future wife’s last name.”

Silence filled the room.

“Oh Mothers, you don’t even know her last name?” Leona deadpanned.

“She never told us, it’s not important at the moment,” the king dismissing it with a turn of his head.

“I’d argue it is, since it means she might be some kind of feral kid who’s never had a guardian. Even orphans get last names from the places that raise them.” The doctor sighed. “Alright, moving on…age?”

“Fifteen.”

Leona winced, again punching another hole through the paper.  She shot the king a glare and sighed to herself as she got some more paper. “Where did the Mothers go wrong with men?”

“What was that?” Anubis glared.

“Nothing, just a thought. Birthday?”

Once again, the doctors blinked and glanced at the king. The king didn’t face anyone, although his ears pressed against his head.

“Alright, where’s the royal doctor?” Leona called out, dropping her paper and pen.  “I think the king’s mind needs examination as soon as possible.”

“That’s enough!” Anubis almost roared himself.

Leona placed her hands on her hips. “Come on, not knowing the birthday of the person you intended to share your life with is kind of low.”

“WE. DON’T. KNOW!” The king roared.

Like the rest of the beasts, Leona closed her eyes at the blast of air, hand on the hair covering her face. Now she tightened her face into a painful smile. “Alright my turn. Pardon me your majesty, I’m just gonna need one moment.” She placed her things next to her bag. The beasts watched as the human stomped towards the nearest window, flung it open, took in a deep breath and yelled, “FUCK YOU!”, while holding both her hands in the air, middle fingers sticking out. She then sighed and shut the window. Leona faced her audience. “Sometimes you just got to curse at a god, society, the world, you know?”

The king huffed, a little bit of smoke coming out of his mouth. “Cease this behavior at once.”

“I’m just following simple doctor procedure. Is it my fault no one knows anything about this girl?” She sighed. “Let’s focus on the medical for now. Hopefully, I’ll get some real answers there.” She picked up her paper and pen. “Okay so what symptoms does the patient show?”

“Nausea, coughing, chills, fever, severe weakness due to the last one…” one doctor listed off.

Leona frowned, “That covers a lot of ground, disease-wise. What have you been giving her? Any kind of spell treatments?”

The priest stepped forward. “Forgive me, madam, but using magic on a human is dangerous. We have no way of knowing how a human body would react to such forces.”

“So, you haven’t tried anything at all…not even some kind cough-be-gone spell?”

The furry creature shook his head. “Again, too risky.”

Leona pinched her fingers an inch apart. “Not even a teeny-tiny spell?”

“Of course not.” He let out a huff.

“Alright.” She turned to the group of doctors. “So, no magic treatment. How about physical? What medication has she been given? Plants or animal?”

“You wouldn’t be able to understand. It would be so hard for your…particular mind to comprehend,” a tall emu doctor said.

Leona crossed her arms. “Try me, sir.”

“Well,” a lizard folk, a skin-like frilled collar around his neck, stepped up. “It’s just due to the miasma, different plants grow in the two realms. Thus, you might not be familiar with what grows here similar to how we don’t know what grows in the human realm. Nor do we know what effect beasts’ plants may have on a human.”

“You’ve got a point there. But you have been giving her medicine, right?”

“We have, of course.” A little figure waved a paw.

“Yet she hasn’t shown signs of improvement?” Leona rubbed her head. “Let me think…first thing, is this Sariphi taller or shorter than me?”

“You two seem around the same height, but I think you’re just a bit taller than her,” a sparrow-looking beast decided.

“Alright, do you think she weighs less than I do or more?”

Another awkwardness enveloped the room.

“Please answer the question. And please next time only bring in your professionalism, leave any shame out the door.” Leona sighed.

“She’s thinner than you,” a ferret declared.

“What’s the point of these questions?” The bull doctor asked.

“Because how much medication you need to give them depends on how big the patient is.” She stuck out her thumb, pointing to the king and his advisor. “You certainly wouldn’t give his royal furriness the same amount as mister tall, dark, and snapping dog over there. One of them got muscle for days and the other is practically just fur and bones. Even if they had the same illness, I certainly wouldn’t give them the same amount. Would you?”

There was a mixed reaction, some men actually nodded with hums of affirmation. Others seem to shuffle and find parts of the ceiling very interesting.

“Now that I’ve got a reference, how much medicine have you given her and how often?” Leona asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?” the rooster said.

“Hey, sometimes it’s not what you give them but how much and how often you do it. Even the weakest poisons can kill with enough doses.”

Everyone blinked again.

“What?” Leona blinked and smiled. “So, none of you ever get pulled into examining dead bodies when you’re on the road or vacation? Must be nice.” She sighed and then straightened up. “So can each of you tell me how much you’ve given her?”

Each doctor produced something in his paws or wings. Leona looked over everything.

Leona then clapped her hands and pointed into the crowd. “Alright, can you, then you and you, please come forward.”

The frilled lizard, the sparrow, and the ferret came forward.

“Now can you tell me, what made you come up with these measurements?”

“Uh well, you see, we are friends, you see,” the lizard spoke.

“Really?” Leona said with a smile and a tilt of the head.  

“Ah yes, well, our clans have gotten along now since we were small. So we’ve often taken turns, caring for the sick and injured,” the ferret said.

“We based our estimations off of treating some of the smaller members of our clans,” the sparrow piped up.

“I see…that’s why your dosages are similar to what I’d give her,” Leona pondered out loud.

“What?” every doctor exclaimed.

“Yeah, given what you’ve told me, I’d give her similar amounts; it might be a bit different if I knew her exact height and weight.” She turned to the rest of the group.  “The rest of you were giving her what? Beast-child’s portions? I’ve seen your kids, they barely come up to my knee. You really think that amount could help an almost grown human woman? Even if she’s small, she still needs more.”

“But we still didn’t cure the queen.” The sparrow sighed.

“Well, that part is up in the air.” Leona shrugged. “It could be whatever you gave her might not work on humans. Or perhaps she needs a slightly different dosage. It’s hard to say without more time to treat her.”

The king sneered, “So this is what our land produces as doctors.”

Many doctors flinched. The three bowed lower.

“Hey you can’t blame the doctors for all of this…” Leona glanced at the larger group. “Completely.” Her attention then focused on the king, “If you want to keep a different species in your house, you’ve got know what to expect. Reminds me of when kids will bring home animals as pets with no clue how to take care of them at all. Leads to all kinds of trouble. That might be the reason you don’t know much about her at all.”

The king growled.

“Hey, just something to think on.” Leona rummaged through her bag and pulled out several large tomes and placed them into the priest’s paws. The moment he held the books, the white beast slammed into the ground. “Here you go, some human medical books. Translated for your convenience, of course.  There’s plenty of stuff about various plants used, there’s got to be something similar growing around here.” She then picked up her bag. “I think it’s about time to meet my patient now.”

Leona took several steps towards the room.

“Wait.” The king held out a paw.

She paused, looking rather disapprovingly over her shoulder.

The King of Beasts sighed, “What you say has merit. We do need a human’s help to save our bride. But know this.” He glared at the woman, a stare that sent many beasts shivering. “Do any harm to her and you will pay dearly for it. You’ll wish you’d never taken one step into our land. Understand that much.”

Leona stood firm. “Trust me, sire. I may be just a human and maybe one with a death wish, my husband would agree with you on that. Begged me not to come here, but he also knows I can’t turn my back on someone who needs my help. I’ll do everything I can to cure this bride you…care about.”

“We shall hold you to your word, human. Do no fail her or us.”

“Thank you.” Leona gave a bow. Just as she opened the door, she twisted her head over the shoulder. “Despite all I’ve said, it’s..nice to mee you, your majesty.”

Once the door shut behind her, Anubis glared daggers at it, trying to mentally will that chaotic, insolent woman out. It was already bad enough the king was losing his mind over one human, two humans in the King of Beasts’ castle ensured chaos. The public already held an inkling about that little girl, things finally settling down after that uprising with Fenrir. If people thought the king would be siding with humans…

Starting with at least three different scenarios in his mind, Anubis calculated how he could minimize the people’s knowledge of this second human. In the middle of his thoughts, Anubis’s eyes caught the king leaning towards the door. The chancellor let himself groan out loud as he stretched out his paw, blocking the royal.

“Sire, we’ve been over this. We can’t risk you being exposed to this disease. While it may be a human disease, there’s no telling how harsh it would be on you should you catch it. It’s best to trust servants with caring for her, in this case.”

“We know…we know…”

Anubis flinched ever so slightly. Although he’d seen that look for the last two weeks, it never failed to surprise him to see so much…longing and…sorrow…in the face of the king he’d trusted for so long.

Meanwhile, Leonhart paid no mind to his companion. Indeed, he paid no mind to anyone else in hall. Instead, he just gazed at the door. With each doctor, he’d hoped that this time, finally this time, Sariphi would be alright. That he could hold her in his arms and thank God for giving her back. So he could just be by her side again. But he never thought God ever listened to his prayers; this situation was more proof. So he had to pin his hopes on another stranger, what little he had left after all this time.  

 Inside the infirmary, Amit wiped Sariphi’s bright red forehead with a sigh. After all this time, the princess felt as though she was pouring out a bucket on a city-wide fire.

For almost two weeks, Sariphi lied in bed, fever scorching her mind, yet her body often shivered from chills.  She barely ate or drank, nausea dictating the bucket at her bedside. She didn’t even have the strength to keep her eyes open. Amit spared one glance to Bennu by Sariphi’s head, little wings clutched like fists, before stepping away.

The princess sighed as she turned around, lifting the curtains around the bed to see her friends where they’ve been for the last two weeks: Cy and Clops on one bed, trembling with worry. Lanteveldt on another, crossing his legs back and forth, paw tapping on his knee.

The hyena rested his hand on his paw, looking at the black creatures. “I know I’ve said this before, but are you sure we can’t leave her in the human realm for a bit? Didn’t the king leave her there when she got sick before?”

Clops lamented, letting out a sigh as big as he was. “The last time his majesty left Sariphi in the care of humans, he just needed a few days to come up with a way for her to live without worrying about miasma poisoning. She’s only gotten worse as the weeks go by, it’s hard to say how long this illness lasts. Plus, the humans kicked her out because she was a sacrifice. Now any human town might just kick her out on the spot without giving any help since they fear his majesty so much. And we can’t stay by her side in the human realm without them trying to kill us too…”

“No way,” Cy lamented.

They heard some shouting in the hall, but at this point they were used to it. The king yelling at the doctors, the doctors protesting, the council adding their own comments. Weeks-long song they knew the lyrics by now, so they tuned it out. They did hear one odd note, something akin to a woman’s yell, but they supposed it was just a maid in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“And Sariphi doesn’t really have anyone we can ask,” Amit continued, sitting down on another nearby bed, all the companions no more than a few steps from Sariphi.  “Her family won’t come for her and the only person I can think of who would dare come is her childhood friend. Yet he’s been banished after kidnapping her. Plus, we don’t have a way of reaching out and contacting him anyway.”

A small click sent the beasts facing towards the opening door. Despite all the doctors who left their Sariphi behind, they held their breaths, scraping up just a little bit of hope for their friend.  

The group watched as a human woman wearing a black cloak opened the door, her face half covered by mostly black hair. She twisted her neck and said, “Despite all I’ve said, it’s…nice to meet you, your majesty.” When the woman shut the door behind her, she slumped against the wood, head tilted upwards. “All of the Family help me, that was hard.” She then looked and saw the group of beasts gaping at her. “Uh…hi. Are you here for the human too or did I make a wrong turn somewhere?”

“A human doctor…here.” Amit said in awe, hand in mouth. She leapt to her feet and then crashed into the human, hugging her tightly to her chest. “Oh thank God! Thank God!”

“Hey there, we humans are squishy things that need air,” Leona murmured, face squished tightly against Amit’s chest. She gently pushed the maiden away, looking up at her. Leona watched tears stream down the crocodile’s face. Leona asked, almost in awe, “Do you…care about the human? Really care and not just because the king told you to?”

“Of course, Lady Sariphi is a dear friend to all of us,” the reptile maiden said.

“Sariphi…” The human doctor let out a sad sigh. “That’s really her name…”

“Pardon?” Amit asked.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s just focus on her health for now,” she muttered a bit. “If not for her own, then for my sanity.”  She pulled up her sleeve, using it to wipe Amit’s face. “I’m going to do everything to help your friend. I promise.” She then tugged at her cloak with her hand. “Let me just get a bit more comfortable, alright?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” the woman sighed. She tugged the cloak off her, revealing a dress made out of feathers, which soon joined its companion on the floor, a few feathers scattering. The woman, now in a white top with something brown around her waist and small white shorts and brown boots, plopped her bag on the bed. Several scars scattered over her arms and legs. One could just see a pink shape at the bottom of her right wrist. She pulled out a white long-sleeved shirt and black pants. After taking off her boots and socks, she put on the shirt, pants, and put back on the boots. She then pulled out a black ribbon, tying her hair back.

Everyone gasped.

On her face, four red scars slashed across her eyebrow, almost touching her lip.  

“What?” Then she touched the side of her face. “Ah right, my scars. I got these a long time ago, long before your Sariphi was born. I didn’t want anyone to think I had a grudge against beasts with these so I covered them up.”

Cy pointed with his tiny hand. “They hurt?”

“Nah, they stopped hurting a long, long time ago.” The doctor stepped towards the bed. “Now let’s see this princess…”

Bennu leapt up into the air and in a burst of light transformed into his large form, white flames flowing at the edges of his wings.  “NOW JUST WAIT A MOMENT HUMAN! I’VE HAD IT WITH DOCTORS COMING IN AND FAILING MY MISTRESS! IF YOU FAIL HER, YOU’LL WISH A BEAST WOULD CHOMP YOU DOWN!”

However, all Leona heard were several screeches right to her face. She quickly held her hands up. “Easy…easy…I’m here to help, Mr. Big Beast Bird.” She twisted her head. “Is this some kind of guardian the king set up or something?”

“That’s Lord Bennu, Sariphi’s holy beast. He’s been doing that with all the doctors lately…I apologize.” Amit admitted with a bowed head.

“Bennu….the Bennu?  The bird that heals troops of men with a single beat of his wings? I’ve heard legends about this guy.” Leona bowed to the holy beast, hands still up in the air. “It’s a great honor to meet you, my lord.” Then she stood up, a finger pointed at him. “Wait, if he’s the great healer I’ve heard about, why didn’t he just magic Sariphi better?”

Amit clasped her hands, her head still down. “It would seem Lord Bennu’s domain is injuries, not illnesses.”

“Yeah.” Lanteveldt shrugged, pointing to the large bird. “Can’t help with motion sickness, can’t help with whatever Sariphi’s got, but handy to have around if you get stabbed.”

The holy beast squawked loudly in the hyena’s face, “SHUT UP, CUR!”

Leona gently took the bird’s beak in her hands, a serene, yet serious look on her face.  “I bet it’s hard for you as well, seeing this girl ill. Feels like I’m making promises until my face turns blue, but I’ll say it again. I’ll do all I can do to help your lady.” She slowly scratched his head. “So may I please see her?”

The holy beast glowered at her and with a huff, he returned to his small form, wings crossed.

“I’m keeping an eye on you, lady. No funny business!” he chirped out.

“Of course, whatever you say, my lord,” she added, scratching his head with a single finger. He let out a small blush as he crossed his wings.

Leona reached for the curtain, yet paused as she took in a deep breath, a serious look now on her face. “Now time to meet this rumored princess of the King of Beasts.” She pulled back the curtain and looked down at Sariphi with her red face. The doctor leaned towards the maiden’s face, gently caressing her forehead and then her cheek.

At the contact, Sariphi’s eyes fluttered. “Who?” she croaked; voice rusty from weeks of no use. She tried to open her eyes wider, but the lids refused to move. Instead, she tried lifting her head. “Leo?”

If there was a moment of shock, a slight pause in Leona’s stroking, she resumed before anyone could notice. “Hey there, kiddo. I’m a doctor, the last one you’ll need if we’re lucky.” She placed her bag, opened it up, and then pulled out a metal cone attached to a white wire with a small metal tip at the end. She pressed the cone to Sariphi’s chest, putting the tip in her ear. “Okay, Sariphi. I’m gonna need you to take in a deep breath, the deepest you can, okay?”

The maiden nodded and inhaled audibly, but her chest didn’t move much.

“Uh-huh…” the woman muttered, slightly adjusting the cone. She rose, putting away her device. “Her lungs are really congested; she’s got a fever.” She then turned towards the group. “Has she had trouble eating?”

“Indeed, she barely eats anything. Sometimes it seems like she has trouble keeping water down too,” Amit commented, starting to sniffle.

At that moment, Sariphi’s cheek puffed up, hand flying to her mouth. She bobbed with gags.

“Ah, the bucket!”

“Bucket!”

Leona glanced around and saw the bucket, right by her boot. She quickly lifted it towards the maiden. Sariphi managed to push herself to lean over the bucket, gagging and releasing the contents of her mouth. The beasts flinched at the familiar watery and brown ooze. Some slipped over the side and ended up sloshing right on the woman’s boots.

Sariphi slowly pushed herself away, eyes open just a crack. Their unfocused, almost blurry gaze only added to her haggard appearance. “Sorry,” she croaked, wiping some of the brown slime off her lips.

Leona set the bucket at her bedside, then rubbed the maiden’s back. “No need to apologize. You’re sick. What kind of doctor would I be if I flinched at patients being sick in front of me?” Leona slowly lowered the woman back down on the pillows. “A lousy one with a very short career, that’s what.”

A puff of laughter escaped Sariphi’s lips. She clenched the woman’s hand, smiling softly. “Thank you.”

“Save your words until you’re better.” Leona ruffled the snow-white hair just a bit. Now she turned again to the group. “Did she have long hacking coughs before she ended up like this? It’s often the first sign of illness.”

The hyena’s ears perked up. “Yeah, about two weeks ago, they started up. Thought she was hacking up a hairball. But she insisted she was fine, didn’t want to see the priest. Of course, seems like the priest is useless just like the rest of the docs.”

“Perhaps if we had pushed her back then…the priest could have done something,” Amit lamented, tears slipping out.

The two black balls, trembling so hard now, looked down. Clops sobbed, “It’s our fault.”

“Fault,” Cy agreed.

Leona held her hands up. “Hey, it’s no one’s fault when someone gets sick.” Then she paused, rubbing her chin. “Well, unless those fancy-looking, old fleabags locked her up in a dark, dingy cell while the king was away, then we can blame them. But I doubt we’ll get that lucky. And I’m not going to lie, when people get illnesses like this, without the right attention, they tend to fade fast. The fact you’ve managed to keep her alive this long shows how much you care.”

“Of course, we care about Sariphi,” Amit declared, hands against her heart. “We love her!”

“Yeah, we love her!”

“Love!”

Lanteveldt scratched his nose, his face a little pink. “Well, she is my lady. I wouldn’t be a knight without her. But sounds like you’ve seen this disease before, that means you can cure it, right?”

Leona smiled. “You’re a smart one.” She opened up her bag. “Now I’ve talked to the doctors outside, so it’ll be safe for her to try some new medicine.” She pulled out two vials. “I recommend two spoonfuls of this one every three hours.” She held out the white bottle. “And then two spoonfuls of this one every four hours.” She offered up the brown bottle. “In case I’m not here when it’s time to give her medicine.” She then set the bottles on the bedside table.

“That is quite a bit,” Amit commented.

Leona twisted her head towards the princess. “Say what?”

“Pardon me, it’s just that most of the doctors never gave my lady that much.”

Clops included, “Well, they were giving beast medicine to a human. So they gave her smaller doses.”

“A lot smaller,” Cy agreed.

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Leona commented. “Sounds like a good portion even didn’t show up in the first place, made more complaints about the patient not responding to their medication rather than actually helping her.” She then turned towards Sariphi.  “Although, it would be better if she had something to eat.” She then turned towards Amit. “Pardon me miss, could you fetch something for Sariphi to eat. Something light and maybe a bit salty?”

Yet Amit didn’t move, staring wide-eyed with a slight shiver in her stance. Leona glanced around the room and saw all of the beasts looking startled as they stared at something. She followed their gazes to her bag, now wiggling on its own. Out of its open mouth, a red box appeared, balanced on a brown kitten's head. It let out a small meow.

“Aw! Sekhmet, good idea!” The woman reached up and picked up the kitten, revealing the dark trails all over her body which made a wing-like pattern on her back. “What would I do without you?” she asked as she snuggled the kitten, who mewed in response. The woman set the cat down on the bed. The moment her little paws hit the sheets; she dashed over to Sariphi’s head. Yet Bennu stopped her, squawking at her. The cat stopped abruptly, back arched as she hissed at the little bird.

Leona smiled, grabbing the kitten by the neck. She used her other hand to wave a finger at the kitten. Her smile continued as she chided, “Now, now, Sekhmet. Lord Bennu was here first. He’s more in charge here than I am. Be nice.”

Once set down, the cat’s ears lowered in an almost bow at the bird. She then set upon the important task of licking Sariphi’s hand.

“What is that?” Lanteveldt asked, pointing at the cat.

“That is a cat. The not-beastly type that doesn’t talk or eat humans. Her name is Sekhmet. She’s my dear companion and often acts as an assistant on these house calls.”

“Are you sure you can keep her here? If his majesty finds out…” Amit said.

Leona tore open the box with her finger, sitting down next to Sariphi. “If he has a problem with my pet, then he’ll have to take it up with Sekhmet herself.  Hope he knows how to deal with claws.”

The doctor wheezed laughter at her joke as she pulled out a small, round, grain-colored disc. The rest of the room just watched and blinked.  After a few deep breaths, her laughter ceased and she turned towards Sariphi, offering the circle near her lips. “This should help settle your stomach enough for you to take some medicine. Try to eat some, okay?”

The patient shifted away from the kitten, giving a small nod. Her mouth opened just a crack to let in the cracker. Slowly she chewed and swallowed. Then she opened her mouth again and continued to eat one small disc after another until the box was half empty.

“Bet that tastes good after so long, right?” Leona asked, stroking the girl’s head.

Sariphi gave a small nod and a small smile, eyes still firmly closed.

Leona smiled, tapping the brown bottle, powder now tipping into a small cup. “Alright, now I’ve got some medicine for you. It won’t taste as good, but it will help you feel better, okay?”  

Once again, Sariphi nodded and opened her mouth. Leona tipped the medicine into the girl’s mouth, watching her face twist, lips puckered. Then Sariphi stuck out her tongue and groaned.

“Yeah, it seems like it’s medicine’s lot in life to be bad tasting,” Leona commented as she washed the cup and filled it with the brown powder.  “My ma told me it just drives whatever ails you out because they can’t stand it either.” She then pressed the cup to Sariphi’s lips. “Once again please.”

Again, Sariphi obeyed. Leona smiled, grabbing a cup of water from the nearby table, tipping that into Sariphi’s mouth. “Alright, that’s enough meds for now. Get some rest.”

Sariphi nodded again, cheek against pillow now, a small smile on her face. Sekhmet snuggled against the maiden’s forehead. Leona hummed, a warm low sound, as she rubbed the maiden’s cheek. The doctor then slowly rose and pulled the curtains down. Just as she turned around, Amit clutched Leona to her, letting out small sobs.

“Oh, thank you, Miss Leona!” she declared. “I haven’t seen Sariphi eat so much in so long!”

The two black blobs clung onto her legs. “Thank you so much! Sariphi’s going to get better, right?” Clops asked, voice wobbling.

“Better?” Cy’s voice trembled like his brother’s.

“Yeah, I’d say so. It might be a bit, maybe a week or so, given how long she’s been sick. It’ll be a few days before we see any change in her though. I’d better tell the king my findings.” She tugged at the ribbon, releasing her hair and sliding it over the scarred half of her face. She looked down to see Cy and Clops, still shaking but one mouth and one eye set in determination.

“We’ll go with you. We’ll testify you’re a good doctor in front of the king.”

“We will!”

Leona smiled, patting the two small beasts at the top of their heads. “Thanks, little spooks.” She took in a deep breath and stepped out into the hallway. Not a single man had left.

“Well, human? How is the patient?” The bull doctor asked.

Leona commented, “It’s Doctor Human, please and thank you. And she’s in a pretty bad way.”

Somewhere in the menagerie, another voice spoke, “See, your majesty, not even human medicine can help the acting queen consort!”

“You didn’t let me finish.” She turned towards the king, “Good news your majesty,” Leona declared. “I know what’s wrong with your future queen, I’ve got medications to help, so, barring an act of the Family or your God, I’d say she will recover.”

“Is that so?” Anubis asked.

“Yes!” Clops declared, floating right around Leona’s arm. “She got Sariphi to eat food and take some medicine! That’s got to be worth something!”

“Something!” Cy shouted.

“Aw shucks, you little spooks,” Leona said, rubbing the back of her head. “Just doing what doctors are supposed to do.” She then gave the king a hard look. “But it does appear you need some human help around here. The decision is well… in your court, your majesty.”

Just then, one of the fox guards ran down the hall with two other beasts behind him. One was a dog folk, golden silky fur trailing from his simple shirt and pants, his ears long and covered in long fur, a blue stone earring on his left ear. The other was a reptilian woman wearing a light-yellow dress and veil, black spots on her brown scales. A necklace of blue beads on a black cord hung around her neck.  As they came before the king, the two men bowed while the woman curtsied, all panting.

“Will, Juno, you made it!” Leona smiled, waving.

The two beasts gave one horrified look at the woman before groaning. The dog pulled at his ears, grumbling. The lizard clasped her eyes, shaking her head. She looked up, agony on her face. “Your majesty, if you are going to execute us, please make it swift.”

“Let me tell my family I loved them,” the dog asked, one finger pointed up, his other paw still clutching his ear. “That’s all I ask.”

Anubis’s eyes glanced between the newcomers. “Do you…know each other?”

Leona brightened. “Yeah, we go way back. I’ve known them for decades. We have an arrangement about helping each other.” She pointed to the dog. “That’s Will. Resident historian and nerd. Taught my kids how to read and write.” The finger then moved towards the lizard. “She’s Juno. Makes the best snacks any side of the Gate. Thanks to them, I was able to get this far into Ozmargo. Would it be alright if they stayed here with me while I look after your princess?”

The two beasts quickly bowed and curtsied respectfully.

Will took a step out. “Pardon our boldness, your majesty. I’ve known Leona for many years. She may be a peculiar…person. I’m sure you’ve already noticed. But she’s one of the best doctors in the land. I’ve seen her tend to beasts and humans alike and help them all with the same smile and care.” He lowered his head before continuing. “When my daughter was dying, Leona was the one who saved her. I’ll always be grateful to her for that.”

“Indeed,” the King of Beasts shifted a brow, then bore holes into the group.

He then turned to the doctors. “You are dismissed. We are certain you don’t need to be escorted on the way out.”

Most of the men scurried away. The lizard, sparrow, and ferret gave low bows to Leona before leaving.

The King of Beasts turned towards the woman. “Human woman.”

Leona stiffened before huffing, holding up a finger. “I’d rather be called Doctor human woman, if it’s all the same to you.

He gave a small inhale, the council and soldiers braced themselves.

She then held up both hands. “Okay, okay, you call me whatever you want. You’re the boss, king.”

“How long will it take for you to cure our bride?”

“Well, I’m estimating a week or so, given her dosage size.  I’d like to stick around a bit longer, just to make sure she’s made a full recovery.”

“Fair.” The King of Beasts held up his paw. “We shall offer you the same promise to those wretches. Tend to the queen consort-to-be. A boon if you cure her. Pray to God you don’t fail.”

He then turned away and left, his council following behind him.

“Leona…” Will started to growl.  Yet the human focused on the king, watching him stalk away, her hand clenching right over her heart.  

The dog sighed and placed a paw on her shoulder. She flinched, snapped out of her thoughts, twisting quickly to the man. Her expression melted into a warm smile, returning the one on his face.

He said, “Just let me know next time, okay? If you’d told me, I’d saved money on the inn and save you from going out the window.”

“Yeah.” She placed a hand on his paw, stretching her back. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Cy and Clops bounced over, hovering right by Leona’s face.

“Ms. Leona, are you alright?”

“Right?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“But why do you look so sad?”

Leona found her eyes clouding up with some tears. She quickly wiped them away with her sleeve. “Ah sorry to worry you little guys. I guess I’m tired. Plus, did you smell that roar? Phew.” She waved a hand in front of her face.

The two beasts continued to face her, Cy with his one eye and Clops with his large mouth.

“Ah right,” Leona noted. Then her brows rose in surprise. She then stepped away from the group, kneeling down where the king once stood, picking up a small pile of brown fur. “Hey spooks, does the king always shed like this?”

The blobs bounced over.

“We’ve never seen the king shed like this before.”

“Never.”

Leona hummed, “Looks like I’ve got a lot of work to do. Thanks, kids, for helping, but my friends and I will take it from here. Go get some rest.”

The two blobs cried out, “WHAT?!?

“Sorry doc,” Lanteveldt said, leaning on the door frame. “We’re happy to have you here. But we’re not leaving Sariphi when she needs us.”

Amit stood in the doorway; hands clasped in front of her. “Please ma’am. Let us stay.”

The whole group stared, blinking at one another.

“Ah right.” Leona held a hand out. “Will, Juno, these are…” then blinked. “I’m sorry, I never learned your names.”

“Oh, do forgive me please.” Amit gave a proper curtsy. “I’m Amit, sixth princess of Murga, it is an honor to meet you. Thank you two for escorting Miss Leona here.”

Juno stepped forward. “Think nothing of it, your highness. And it is a great honor to meet you as well. I’m Juno.”

Amit watched the older woman, her mouth trying to speak but no words came out. The hyena stepped up. “I’m Lanteveldt, Queen consort’s knight. You can call me Lan.”

“I’m Clops and this is my brother Cy, we’re Sariphi’s faithful servants.”

“Cy, hello!”

“Will, humble scholar, at your service.” He offered a small bow.

“Hello there,” Juno gracefully curtseyed.

Will held out his paw towards the human. “And of course, you’ve met Leona.”

“’Lo,” she said with a small wave.

Cy tugged at her pant leg. “Please, Miss Leona? Us stay, please?”

Leona turned away, hands out defensively. “Ack! Stop being so cute, you little spook! You’re messing with my heartstrings!” She then looked down at his earnest look and smiled. “Well, I’d be no better than those hypocrites if I didn’t listen to people who cared about my patients. But I’d like for you kids to take a small break, wash up, relax a bit. Let me and my friends get settled in and come back in, say, an hour? Sound fair?”

“Sounds alright by me.”

“Indeed.”

“Okay.”

“’Kay.”

The young folk left the adults. The princess twisted her head behind her, but then scurried away. The three adults watched them turn a corner. They glanced at each other. With a nod, they walked into the infirmary, shutting the door behind them. Juno all but collapsed on the bed while Will leaned on the wall. Leona stood between them.

“So…what’s the king like?” Will asked.

“Well, at first glance, he’s just like the old king, commanding and domineering. Threatening everyone…and maybe it’s me being crazy or hopeful, but for a few moments there…he sounded like his Pa…”

“Leona, I’ve known you for at least, what, a century now? And I know that you try to look for the good in others, Ghenna, that’s how you ended up married in the first place. And you’ve got a good sense of finding it in people where they least expect it. So I don’t think you’re crazy, well, at least this time. I bet deep down he’s got good in him.”

“Probably keeps in the liver. It’s a family trait,” Leona said, wiping her face again, a few tears leaking out. “Mothers, I’m so tired…” She then noticed her other companion, staring at the wall. “Juno, are you okay?”

Juno continued, still as a statue.  

“Juno? Juuuno? HERA!” Leona snapped her fingers in front of the reptile’s face.

The woman jumped up. “Yes. What? Sorry?”

The human blinked and let out a long “Ooooh! That princess…she’s your Amit. The one you’ve talked about.”

The lizard woman flinched, sighing and clutching her skirt. “I should have known they would send her here. I heard the stories, but I couldn’t have believed it. She must have been terrified coming here. I’ve wanted to see her so badly after all these years.” Now the fabric of the skirt bunched in her claws. “Yet if she finds out what happened…what I’ve done…”  

Leona sat down, leaning against her friend. “I mean, I’ve only known her for a few moments but she doesn’t seem to have changed much from that hatchling you loved and cared for. Still is really sweet. Still cries for others. Shame we didn’t know she was here; you could have warned me about how strong her hugs were.”

Juno sighed, “She did always cling so strongly to my skirts…”

“See? I bet the moment you tell her who you are, she’ll squish you in one of her hugs, the two of you will start bawling and it’ll be like you never left.”

The lizard woman smiled warmly. “That would be nice…” She then took the human’s hand. “And I’m really wishing you can reach your cub in some way.”

Leona squeezed her hand in return, leaning into the woman. “Thanks, I’ll need it. Hopefully, I’ll learn what to call him soon.”

Will sighed dramatically, slightly shoving the women away so he could sit between them, then hugged the women close to his sides.  “Well, looks like it’s reunions all around here. Alas, I have no child to reunite with here, so I guess I’ll just be the emotional support and shoulder to cry on here.”

“Aris, you sure?” Leona wiggled herself free from his grip, standing up. She pointed to the door behind her. “You sure you didn’t leave any little pups or cubs like that hyena when you stuck it to that bastard and ran off with your wife?”

“Please,” the dog started, waving a paw.  “The previous kings did everything they could to stamp out the hyena clan. I doubt our most beloved bastard would have offered me a hyena woman on a silver platter like other women. Though I wonder how one managed to get into the palace. Along with those Cyclopeans too, hard to find members of the Magic clan around here…”

“There’s a lot of stories to be told…” Leona looked up at the veiled bed.  “Can’t wait to hear hers especially.”

The two beasts twisted, following their friend’s gaze.  They both rose, stepping towards the bed eagerly. “I wonder if she looks like her wanted posters,” Juno pondered. “She looked very lovely in those.”

Still looking back on his friend, Will lifted the curtain. “Those things are terribly inaccurate. They always get the noses wrong.” As he twisted his head, he continued, “You’d think that with camera thingies, humans could—” However, once he saw the human girl, he froze.

“Will? Aristophanes?” Leona asked once she caught up to her friend. She followed his gaze, eyes just moving between the maiden’s white hair and the small bird lying against Sekhmet’s stomach.

“Leona…is that a holy beast I’m seeing near Sekhmet…” he pointed to the sleeping beauty. “Her holy beast?”

Leona looked at the two beasts curled up against each other. “Yeah, the kids said he was hers.”

“But…then her hair…” He now looked agasht at the white streak gracing Leona’s face.

“Hey, I was not in the best mindset when I started, you know that.” Leona wove the strands around her finger. “She probably had far better reasons than I did. Besides, if her hair is the result of summoning, she’d probably look more like a little old granny. You know about the Choseh people, she might be one of them. We’ll ask her when she’s better.”  A yawn escaped her lips.

The dog sighed, relief in his tone. He rubbed his eye. “You’re right. You humans are often right. But be careful about using our real names, you never know who might be listening. The council will never forgive me for the character assassination I’ve done to them.”

“Well, you did often kill them in your plays or demote them into toilet cleaners,” Juno commented. “But yes, the longer no one knows who we really are, the longer we can stay here.”

“Good point,” Leona said. “Make sure you let me know when that potion wears off on your eye. Looks like that bunch of relics doesn’t recognize you while it works.” She yawned, “Let’s get ready for bed, the kids will be back soon.”

Once Leona changed out of her clothes and into a T-shirt she could almost swim in, she sat down on the bed near the two holy beasts. “I hope you’ve explained to Lord Bennu everything, that I’d be really grateful if he kept this to himself for a while.”

The kitten meowed to almost everyone in the room, but Bennu and Leona heard, “Rest assured, my lady, Lord Bennu has allowed us to stay and for you to treat his lady. But he does request that should something go wrong; I use my powers to save her.”

Leona shrugged, “Sure, that was the plan all along. But I’m pretty sure he’s more of a swearing bird.”

The bird pointed a wing. “See, you young folks keep fixing the words of your elders for nothin’. You shouldn’t try so hard.”

“I didn’t want to you to hear such words, milady. You’re an excellent doctor and it pains me when people dismiss you.”  The kitten lowered her ears.

“Come on Sek, you know I’ve heard it all before.” Leona leaned, scratching her beast on the head. “But thanks for looking out for me.” Then she scratched the bird’s head. “Thank you Lord Bennu as well.”

The bird huffed, “Just cure my lady and keep her safe. Like you promised. Though some human booze wouldn’t hurt.”

“What did he say?” Leona asked.

Sekhmet replied, “He’s fine with it. He does want some human liquor though.”

“I’ve got some, I’ll start my payment tomorrow.” A yawn again broke her thoughts. “Okay?”

“Alright.” The bird quickly shifted, turning to his side. The kitten let out a small yawn and then curled around the bird as she fell asleep.

Leona then turned her attention to the maiden sleeping, wheezing with each breath. “I know I’m a terrible mother-in-law for letting you suffer like this. I’m selfish, using you to see my son after all these years.” She leaned down to pull out a small round bottle filled with a glowing, bright purple liquid. “But I promise that I’m here to take care of and love you like I should. Just have a little faith in me, okay?” She pulled out the cork, aiming the bottle at Sariphi. Vapor flowed out, quickly transforming into a large purple moth, landing right on the girl’s head and scattering into tiny purple specks. As the creature scattered, Sariphi’s wheezes almost ceased, her chest rising and falling more.

Leona smiled, kissing her fingers and pressing them onto Sariphi’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, dear.”

#niehime to kemono no ou #niehime #sacrificial princess and the king of beasts #fanfiction #tw: language #tw: nausea

[daphnesluvrr]

PIPER AND JASON KID GOT TURNED INTO A CAR BY HER BOVINE MAJESTY HERA

AND THAT IS HOW WE GOT LIGHTNING MCQUEEN

#jiper #it must be agreed that reading Percy Jackson has changed our minds we r definitely not odd #yes

[sylkhi]

HEADCANON:

Nico saying "I smell like death and animals fear me for it" is incorrect. Here's reasons why:

1. It's really no secret at this point that Nico is the most powerful demigod alive in-canon. He's so powerful that he has enough reserve strength and vitality (after recovering as much as he possibly could from Tartarus, starvation, and using the seeds in the state he was in. You don't ever fully recover from things like those) to constantly have his fear aura and cryokinesis emanating low-key, kind of like his wavelength.

But, it's at its lowest when he's with Will/Jason/Hazel/Reyna/Gleeson/whoever you ship him with, but never fully off. The fact that he emanates an aura puts him one step closer to god than mortal by the way.

ANYWAY, the constant emanation of the fear aura definitely makes animals skittish, but as he doesn't really let it off when he's alone with animals, they crowd him and glomp him whenever he's alone with them.

2. A lot of the animals he interacts with are probably animals tied to gods who don't have the best of relationships with Hades.

This one should be pretty self-explanatory. When you make an enemy of a god, you make an enemy of practically everything they represent (imagine permanently pissing off Hygeia or Asclepius... yeah, let's not).

Think of Annabeth and cows. Her Bovine Majesty, Hera, that goat skin gal, Queen of the gods, doesn't like Annabeth, and cows, by extension, do not (why are there so many commas???). The difference here is that Hera actively does things to screw around with Annabeth, and the only thing stopping her from screwing up Annabeth's relationships and (eventual) marriage is Athena giving her the look. Enough about my Annabeth|Hera head-canons though.

So whenever Nico interacts with a horse and equine creatures, or an eagle, or a cow, they get skittish and violent because of the gods they're tied to not liking Hades, and by proxy, him (exception here is Zeus, who genuinely dislikes Nico and would kill him if that didn't mean dying at Hades' hands, quite literally btw).

3. Animals don't really fear death (itself), which Nico represents.

Here's an important distinction for you and a head-canon from me (one I might write a piece on): Hades' children are representations of death itself, while Thanatos' children, as children of the god of death, represent it's causes.

I don't want you to think of to confuse it with him repping death by old age (that would be children of Geras).

Anyway, all creatures seem to take comfort in death, and thus Nico. And when an animal is comfortable with you, it tends to either leave you to your business, or seek your attention.

This one is cracky and feels like something I'd write a piece for at 3AM when I can't sleep.

4. This one is about Artemis|Nico.

Basically, as a sort of apology to Nico cause she knew what it meant to take away the only person he had at the time (and for a long time, really), I head-canon that Artemis has marked Nico with one of her blessings (a boon for my Hades players out there).

This specific mark is the one that numbs wild animals'/animals with violent dispositions' instinct to attack creatures they perceive as "dangerous".

Animals aren't daft. They can tell a dangerous individual, and some attack on sight to get the upper hand. Of course, Nico is too powerful for a non-mythical beast to so much as scratch him (he wouldn't kill them, just scare them off).

Anyway, with the mark, wild animals basically act as their domestic counterparts would around Nico.

I head-canon that when he first started shadow-travelling and would wind up passed out on totally different continents or in different places, he woke up one day in Tsavo East National Park with man-eating lions (look it up, fairly interesting) curled up around him and purring.

Anyway, now that we've dived into my mind and swam steadily downwards, we've finally reached the bottom where one thing is left: SHITPOSTING. Let's do it.

Animals when nico's fear aura is on: I do not know this man. I could see him walking down the streets and I would not recognise him. Sorry to this m–

Animals when nico's fear aura is low: cuddle time. Time to cuddle. Yup. Did someone say snuggling? Come here, boyo *glomps said boyo*

Nico:

Nico: so do you like me or not???

Zeus [on mount olympus]: I think it's about time I sent an eagle to pluck his ey–

(ground rumbles)

Zeus [nervously]: *clears throat* –to pluck the twigs out of the boy's hair, why is he so bad with maintaining his hair?

(Will is doing some stuff for a Veterinarian son of kymopoleia. Nico accompanies him to the vet's like the supportive boyfriend he is)

Will: why are you covered in cats???

Nico [covered in cats and enjoying every second of it]: cause you're giving the dogs a check-up, doctor

(Will got turned on when nico said doctor, guys, don't blame me)

(Hades and Hera get into a cat fight. It's for a very petty reason; their pet peeves with each other's children)

Hades: time-out! Can't we just try to get along now that our boys are dating each other?

Hera [pensive; the expression looks fake]: *adjusts goat skin on shoulders*

Hera: . . . no

(Cat fighting continues)

(Snow-white!Nico AU with Reyna and Hazel as main supporting cast, Percy as prince, and Hera as misunderstood evil queen with her own character arc? Closer than you'd think)

Reyna: stop singing nico

Nico: why?

Hazel: You're covered in birds nico. BIRDS, PLURAL!

Nico: makes me even more fly :)

Percy: omg literally so hot *swoons*

Hera: *strokes cow behind ears* can we skip to the part where he eats the apple and gets trampled by my trusty cow?

(The story falls apart. Not even the Apollo kids can save it. Lesson is not to let the aphrodite cabin do storytime at the campfire).

Hazel: oh, I didn't know you had pets, Nico

Nico: I don't

Hazel: why all the random animals, then

Nico:

Nico: you're not trying to kick out my other visitors, are you

That's it, guys. Deuces. Yes, some of the head-canons here might feature in my next nico-centric (ooohhhhh, *interest sounds*).

I'd like to do more posts like these, but they're a bit time-consuming to write up. It's still so worth it though.

Should I do more like these? (The "head-canon/opinion dump-into-shitpost" format). You tell me. I mean, I'll still make them, just more frequently if yes is the answer.

#nico di angelo #we're discussing him #now imma tag the other people who appear #hades #hera #athena #kymopoleia hygiea and asclepius yes one tag #annabeth chase #will solace #hazel levesque #reyna ramirez arellano #artemis #zeus #poseidon #some solangelo #some jasico #some percico #hera and hades are passive-aggressive in-laws #her bovine majesty #that goat skin gal #she returns #i want to add more tags but no #the post explains itself lol

[redladydeath]

jhgfdfghjkhgf i was going to just post this in the video’s comment section but for some reason that’s not working so here’re act one of the william and mary play:

Mary: Look, you’re my best friend, okay? And, um, best friends tell each other everything, right? Oh my god. Excuse me. Oh, Maria Regina, it was awful! He was awful, William, my Dutch cousin, or as father likes to call him “the Dutch Dog” *laughs*… I had the honor of being forced to dine with the extended family. My little Dutch cousin William– and was he rude! Oh my god. He spent the entire meal either staring at me or grimacing at the food. No manners. And he’s old too, like, at least thirty, not that you’d know by looking at him, he’s very short, but old enough to know better, and all that I could hear the entire time was his breathing– no, no, no– wheezing, with his tiny little child-sized mouth. *imitates wheezing* [indecipherable] –cause he had [indecipherable] big monster of a nose to use, but I guess that was out of commission. And King Charles II– God save him– and all twelve of his spaniels, seated at the table, eating off of the plates– how am I related to these people?

Anne: Mary!

Mary: Shh! Shh! My sister! We’re fighting! Oh god. Uncle Charles– God save him– William... ew. I’ve never fit in with this entire family and now I find out that my sister’s been ta… my sister– No, no I will not stand here and idly gossip. My sister– no. Sh– no. Sh– no. Sh– nope! Betty!

Betty: Yes, your ladyship?

Mary: Um, take Maria Regina will you?

Betty: Yes, your ladyship. Anne has been screaming for you, your ladyship.

Mary: Yes, tell her I’m dead.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: No, don’t, that’ll get her hopes up. Tell her that I’m resting– exhausted from a fascinating dinner with our exotic Dutch cousin.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: And I can trust you all? Oh, um, and would you bring me an ink, pen, and paper?

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: How’s this? Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear... girlfriend– no, no, no... lover– no, too saucy– um... husband? Yeah… it’s a woman, but we’re gonna call her a husband. Don’t get confused! Um, dearest husband, after my prayers to all-mighty God, I’ve come to make peace with you, for it is a strange thing for a man and a wife to quarrel. What more can I say to prove that I love with more zeal than any lover can? You are loved with a love never known by man–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: You are loved more than can be expressed–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: By your ever-obedient–

Anne: Mary!

Mary: SHUT UP!! –wife. But to my great sorrow, I find out that you’ve been corresponding with *whispered* my sister!

Anne: Mary!

Mary: Shut up! Oh, to be your humble servant! To kiss the ground where you go–

Anne: What are you doing?!

Mary: Shut up! Oh, to be your dog on a string, your fish in a net, your limber trout–

Anne: She writes me too, you know!

Mary: No, she doesn’t!

Anne: Yes, she does!

Mary: Shut up! [indecipherable] If my letter has made the effect, dear “husband”, on your hard ear, I may without scruple call you my dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband.

Anne: She is not your husband and your letter to her are weird. Also, she sends me letters and calls me her husband and loves me more than she loves you and you’re a lesbian!

Mary: That word doesn’t even exist yet, Anne!

Anne: Lesbian!

Mary: Keep your voice down!

Anne: She writes me more letters.

Mary: Our love is forbidden.

Anne: Get over yourself!

Mary: She knows unlike you I’ll be queen!

Anne: Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t even want to be queen.

Mary: Oh, good, cause you never will be.

Anne: Of course I will! When your head gets so damned big from all the bullshit praise, even your ugly, masculine, lesbian neck won’t be able to support its weight. Snap! And your head will fall off, like our poor headless grandpa Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Mary: To imagine the death of a monarch is treason, I could look you in the Tower.

Anne: You couldn’t!

Mary: When I’m queen.

Anne: You wouldn’t!

Mary: I could!

Anne: Nu-uh!

Mary: Uh-huh!

Anne: You wouldn’t be the first queen to do that to a little sister.

Mary: Well, you came in here and started it.

Anne: I know. I have something to tell you.

Mary: You could’ve waited!

Anne: I have a memory. About mummy.

Mary: Did you? Really? Would you tell me?

Anne: When we knew she wouldn’t make it much longer, she asked me to come to her bedside. She had just got her blood let, so she was speaking very openly.

Mary: It’s okay, Anne!

Anne: She asked me “Do you know why I named your older sister Mary but named you after me?”

Mary: Why?

Anne: Mummy said… “Because prefer you to that bitch older sister!”

Mary: Leave!

Anne: Mom liked me more!

Mary: I was named after a queen!

Anne: Yeah, Bloody Mary! “Oh, look at me! I’m named after a fat, bloated Tudor Catholic!”

Mary and Anne: *spit*

Mary: Leave!

Anne: I just came in here to ask how dinner went.

Mary: It was lovely. Leave!

Anne: Was it? I bet it was boring.

Mary: Only for a child but when you’re fifteen years old you appreciate stimulating conversation!

Anne: [indecipherable]

Mary: Good!

Anne: Was he… stimulating?

Mary: Ew! I mean… yes.

Anne: What was he like?

Mary: Tall, dark, handsome.

Anne: Really? Tall, dark, and handsome?

Mary: Mmyeah.

Anne: I’m jealous.

Mary: You should be.

Anne: Did he stare at you?

Mary: What? No.

Anne: I guess he wouldn’t. Not after what I have heard.

Mary: Oh, I don’t even want to hear your idle gossip– what did you hear?

Anne: Oh, it’s just that father told me that Uncle Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: –Tried to marry you off to him.

Mary: What?

Anne: For some Dutch alliance.

Mary: What?

Anne: Yeah. He turned you down though.

Mary: He turned me down?

Anne: Three times.

Mary: What?

Anne: And here I was going to come in and make fun of you! I thought William was a tiny little goblin man. That would’ve been so embarrassing!

Mary: Right…

Anne: If you were turned down by an ugly little goblin man.

Mary: Right…

Anne: Three times!

Mary: Leave!

Anne: Why?

Mary: Leave!

Anne: I thought he was stimulating!

Mary: I want to be alone!

Anne: Mary the Martyr, you’re so weird! Maybe you’ll actually fit in if you didn’t lock yourself in your room all the time writing creepy letters. Some queen you’ll be! You’re friends with a fish!

Mary: Well, I will be queen whether I want to or not!

Anne: Mary the Martyr, you’re engaged to Louis the fucking XIV, what right do you have to be mad at me?

Mary: ...Have you seen the latest portrait of Louis?

Anne: Yeah!

Mary and Anne: *squee*

Anne: He’s fucking gorgeous! Even for a Catholic!

Mary and Anne: *spit*

Anne: Milky skin, so fucking rich! Full deep eyes, tight little French ass…

Mary: Anne! God is listening!

Anne: [indecipherable] I’m just appreciating the work! Those portraits are rarely accurate though. You saw the portrait of Uncle Charles–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: –He looked like a Roman god dipped in oil.

Mary: What?

Anne: He glistened Mary! Like a buttered up Roman statue! In reality, he looks more like butter. Well… butter with syphilis.

Mary: Oh my god, you can be quite cruel Anne.

Anne: I’m destined to marry one of our fat, inbred cousins, so I’m allowed to be.

Mary: Sorry.

Anne: Yeah, it’s whatever. Well, I’m going! Unlike you I actually have friends to hang out with.

Mary: Oh, bad company ruins good morals.

Anne: Fuck you! See you at dinner.

Mary: That’s why that little Dutch dwarf was staring at me. Oh my God, could you imagine that tiny, wheezing little man crawling into your bed every night– oh my god, it’s an offensive thought! But the most offensive part? He said no! He said no to me! Oh my God, the man is a slug! William of Orange– blegh! And Uncle Charles– God save him– tried to make me marry that, not that I would’ve! No! I would’ve told him off, right to his face. I’m not afraid of him! I will not be made a sacrificial lamb. I would’ve told him off to his face! Right to his tiny, regal, little mustache: “No, Uncle! You may be king, but I will not marry that creature! Put me in chains; lock me in the Tower; feed me to the ghost of Cromwell; I absolutely refuse to marry that creature!” I would’ve told him off. I will not be made a sacrificial lamb!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, Jesus Christ.

Betty: Your uncle, King Charles II– God save him– is here your ladyship.

Mary: Okay, send him in.

Betty: Yes, your ladyship.

*dogs yapping*

Charles: Quiet, quiet, quiet! [indecipherable] Good doggy-woggys! Now, niece!

Mary: Oh, Uncle, God save you–

Charles: Rise dear! You’re one of the few girls at court I’d rather not see on her knees.

Mary: Oh– ew.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: I’ve just come from your mother and father’s apartments.

Mary: She’s not my mother.

Charles: Charming lady, your new mummy. She’s got those bovine hips, so I assume she’ll be plopping out heirs as soon as James’ dousing rod directs her away from foreign [indecipherable].

Mary: Oh my God.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: If God is good– and we know he is– she’ll give birth to a few boys before she’s spent. Women are quite fragile, as you know Mary. It’s especially hard with our good Stuart stock and– Oh, Dicky, no, no hump, no hump, daddy has a [indecipherable]. Might we can hope for a few younger brothers– you’d like that, wouldn’t you Mary?

Mary: Oh, yes, dear uncle. How I love being an older sister to our dear, simple Anne and how I’d revel in the opportunity to be an older sister again.

Charles: Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: [indecipherable] England [indecipherable] worry that another woman would take the throne.

Mary: Yes, poor England.

Charles: Yes.

Mary: Ah, ah, ah, ah!

Charles: Dicky! If that heifer can squeeze out just one little boy, England is saved! Oh, Mary, you see it’s not that women shouldn’t be involved in politics, it’s that they can’t. Their brains aren’t built for it! I don’t even know if you can comprehend what I’m saying to you right now!

Mary: I’m lost.

Charles: Yes, I assumed so. Oyster?

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty! *grunting*

Charles: *chocking, spits* [indecipherable] Go on, up! [indecipherable] Now, where were we? Yes– women are not fit to rule.

Mary: Sorry, once more.

Charles: I am king.

Mary: You are king.

Charles: I am a great king.

Mary: You are a great king.

Charles: Women… cannot be kings.

Mary: No, they’re queens.

Charles: …Very good Mary! I’m very proud. That’s a real thought you just had!

Mary: I’m lost again.

Charles: So, if I am king and women…?

Mary: Can’t be kings.

Charles: Then women…?

Mary: Can’t be great kings?

Charles: Exactly! I am very impressed with your understanding of Restoration politics. As king, I’ve found it requires tremendous subtlety. OW! Dicky, get off! Dicky, don’t let–! God, you bastard! Bite that hand that feeds you, ey? Groom of the Stool!

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty?

Charles: Lock him in the Tower!

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty.

Charles: You made a big mistake, Dicky! No [indecipherable] bites a sovereign.

Groom of the Stool: Yes, your majesty!

Charles: Now, let us break our conversation into greater areas regarding your sex.

Mary: Ah, like needle crappy gossip.

Charles: And… boys.

Mary: Ah, yes, boys.

Charles: And… marriage.

Mary: Ah, yes, my purpose in life.

Charles: You a beautiful Stuart girl– Protestant– a large Protestant wedding to a regal, Protestant husband.

Mary: No, ha, Louis’ Catholic.

Charles: Louis? Yes, he’s Catholic.

Mary: Right, but you just said–

Charles: You, a beautiful Stuart girl– 

Mary: Oh no!

Charles: A large Protestant wedding–

Mary: Oh, god!

Charles: To a regal–

Mary: No!

Charles: Protestant...

Mary: Please!

Charles: Did you enjoy dinner last night? You [indecipherable] to impressed your cousin.

Mary: No.

Charles: William! Were you taken by him, Mary?

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: He was very taken by you.

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: Your first cousin, so you’ll have a lot in common!

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: My dead sister’s boy! She was a real bitch.

Mary: *bahing*

Charles: And you’ll have the line of succession, so you won’t have to worry about being queen, Mary. William can handle it. Sorry he’s such a cold, ugly bastard.

Mary: *spluttering*

Charles: Your Catholic father *spits* is pissed. Not surprising, but I ordered him to shut the fuck up about it. The wedding is next week. La~!

Mary: Wait! Anne!

Charles: Oh, you’re too thoughtful, dear girl! Anne will be fine on her own.

Mary: No, no, no, marry Anne off to William!

Charles: Certainly not! You’re next in line after your idiot father. We’ll marry Anne off to one of the fat, inbred cousins.

Mary: But I learned French!

Charles: And now you’ll get to learn Dutch! It’s not a beautiful language, but it matches the people. The king exits!

Mary: *sobbing*

*church music / exert of “Aria” by Marco Rosano*

Priest: Gathered! His Royal Highness Charles II!

Ensemble: GOD SAVE HIM!

Priest: The bride’s father James (the eventual second)– what? Your father refused to attend!

Mary: *sobbing*

Priest: We are gathered today in the eyes of our Protestant God to witness the eternal joining of two people, and more importantly, two nations. Our beloved England and our at-least-for-the-time-being-not-enemy Holland.

*fanfare*

Priest: The Dutch Stand Stadtholder! ...William? ...The Prince of Orange!

William: *violent coughing*

Priest: William? You good?

William: Ja.

Priest: Do you need a minute?

William: [indecipherable]

Priest: Okay! So… the, uh… the Dutch Stadtholder! The Prince of Orang– William?

William: *violent coughing* [indecipherable]

Priest: We are gathered– we are– we’re gathered– we are gathered– gathered– and we are gathered–

William: [Dutch word]

Priest: Pardon?

William: [Dutch word]

Priest: Sorry, I–

William: [Dutch word], stepping [Dutch word].

Priest: Oh, yes. *groaning* NOW! We are gathered for the joining of two people, two nations, and one [indecipherable] faith. Do you, Mary, take a solemn vow to obey and honor William until you’re parted by death? Okay, good. Do you, William, take a solemn vow to take Mary as your bride and treat her with whatever respect you happen to feel like showing her? Alright, whoo! You’re all good in here. You may kiss the bride.

William: *violent coughing*

*retro dance music* / exert of “Oh! Oh! I'm Goin' Home” by The Peppers

Mary: Wow. Midnight. Where did the time go?

William: Time for bed.

Mary: Right. Yup. Time for bed. It’s late and… it’s late and… it’s late and… it’s time for bed and there’s the bed, it’s time for bed and… we’re married now.

Charles: Now, nephew! To your purpose! God save Saint George and England! *giggling*

Mary: Right, historically, um, all of that actually happened. Well– oh, sorry, I was talking to someone else. Well, I guess it’s late, right? It’s late and it’s, um, time to go do– time to do– time to go do do do do do do do do doing of it. Ah! Wow. A ring… Is it for me? …Should I take it? …I’ll take it. Wow… a ruby… yes, ruby– rubies are very– rubies are red! Red. Rubies are… pink actually, now that I look at it. Funny, they’re really much more pink. Everyone always says “ruby red” but they’re much more pink when you look at it, oh look at that, it’s–

William: My mother’s.

Mary: Your mother’s? Wow. Beautiful. Ring. That was your mother’s. Ring, ruby, ring, ruby, ring–

William: She’s dead.

Mary: What? Oh, I’m sorry. About that– that she’s dead. What happened? Sorry! No, none of my business. Poor Mum! Um, my mom is dead. Died when I was a child so… I know what it’s like. To have a dead mum. *awkward laughter*

William: You don’t have to smile for me. You don’t have to pretend.

Mary: Dearest dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband– this is the woman again, um... You’ll find a pair of horns on your front door for… it appears I’ve taken another husband. Hm…

*whistle*

Anne: I brought you a going-away present. It’s another goldfish.

Mary: Thank you, sister.

Anne: I knew you already that one, so you’d like it. I hope they don’t eat each other. Do goldfish eat each other? Is it a long trip to Holland?

Mary: I don’t know!

Anne: You seem glum. Story time! When Aunt Catherine–

Mary and Anne: God save her!

Anne: Married Uncle Charlie–

Mary and Anne: God save him!

Anne: She had to leave Portugal in order to marry him. She hadn’t even met him yet, so I guess it could be worse.

Mary: Yes, but she came to England, I’m leaving it!

Anne: Yeah, fair. Just trying to help.

Mary: I don’t need your help, dear sister, this is my cross to bear.

Anne: Saint Mary the Martyr of English diplomacy! If only you were Catholic.

Mary and Anne: *spit*

*whistle*

Mary: I’ve never left London, that’s what scares me the most. God be with thee, sister. God be with thee, England.

William: …Two.

Mary: Oh. Yes, Anne got me one as a going-away pr– okay.

Anne: I hate him.

Mary: Well, he’s your brother now.

Anne: Please, I hated him when he was my cousin. I think you should be the first Protestant saint just for sleeping with him. I can’t even imagine!

Mary: …Neither can I.

Anne: WHAT?! TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

Mary: Well, considering we haven’t, that’s everything to tell!

Anne: Oh my God! You’ve been married a week!

Mary: This stays between you and me, Anne!

Anne: Oh, but Mary, I have to tell my friends!

Mary: I don’t like your friends!

Anne: Fuck you! The court would die if they knew!

Mary: No!

Anne: But Mary, you can’t tell something this juicy and force me to hold it inside!

Mary: Shh!

Anne: But it’s not you Mary, it’s him. That puny prig.

Mary: No.

Anne: But you don’t even like him!

Mary: What wife likes her husband?

Anne: He’s so gross and I used to think you were gross, but he’s like, super gross. Oh thank God you’re not screwing! Your kids would be so gro– I didn’t realize Papa hadn’t told you the truth about him!

Mary: Oh, what did father say?

Anne: He buggers boys. Said he buggers boys. Said if he takes the throne, England gets two queens.

Mary: …I’ll have nothing to do with silly, irreverent myths, Anne… And tell my other husband I’ll send her the new address.

Anne: Gross! [indecipherable] each other!

*Dutch folk music* / exert of “Klompe Dans” by Camerata Trajectina

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Oh, yes, thank you.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Ah, yes, thank you.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Thank you.

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, good day William!

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Life in Holland. It’s beautiful. It’s very, very clean.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Betty: Your ladyship?

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Thank you! Please keep talking, Betty.

Betty: Your ladyship–

Citizens: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Anything in English– thank you!

Betty: *whispers*

Mary: Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

*fanfare*

Betty: Supper time!

Mary: I’m not hungry.

Betty: Not you, your ladyship.

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland…

Mary: …Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

Mary: I must grin when my heart is fit to break, I must speak when my heart is so oppressed I can scarcely breathe.

Betty: Oh, that’s real pretty. The Bastard, your ladyship.

Mary: The Bastard?

Betty: Your half-cousin, King Charles II– God Save Him–’s bastard son, your ladyship.

Mary: Here?

Betty: Uh-huh.

Mary: Whoo!

Monmouth: Cousin!

William: Let me not interrupt your reunion. Continue this.

Mary: How’s home?

Monmouth: England is good! The family not so much. My father, Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –seems ill. Parliament hates your father, James (the eventual second) since he’s decided to be Catholic–

Mary and Monmouth: *spit*

Monmouth: –since we just had nine years of civil war, ugh! People would rather avoid any foreseeable royalist drama, so Parliament wrote the Exclusion Act to keep your father off the throne.

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: No! Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –refused to sign it.

Mary: Oh, good.

Monmouth: No! That’s why [indecipherable] is shit! Charles II–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –dissolved Parliament, hoping to form a more moderate one.

Mary: Oh, good!

Monmouth: No! Bad! A group of Protestants then tried to blow up my papa Charlie–

Mary and Monmouth: God save him!

Monmouth: –on his way back from a race to [indecipherable]!

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: Oh yes!

Monmouth: –[indecipherable] watching the race, ALL OF NEWMARKET CAUGHT ON FIRE!!

Mary: Oh no!

Monmouth: No, that’s good! Charles’– God save him– house in Newmarket was destroyed, so they had to leave the race early, thus foiling the plot to kill him!

Mary: Oh, God is very generous to our family. And how’s Anne?

Monmouth: Married.

Mary: Oh, to one of the inbred cousins?

Monmouth: We’re royal! Inbred cousins are the only dignified option! How’s life in the Dutch court?

Mary: Um… clean, it’s very, very clean.

Monmouth: Ah, thank God you have William.

Mary: *hysterical laughter* ...Yes. No, I do see William from time to time. He likes to walk from stage left to stage right to stage right to stage left.

Monmouth: Incredibly generous man– looking forward to our dinner tonight! He invited me to hunt tomorrow and all the rest of next week! Very charming!

Mary: You’ve only been onstage for a minute and a half!

Betty: There are more officials for you to meet, your ladyship.

Monmouth: See you around, cuz. Ch-cha! …Ch-cha!

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Mary: Dank u.

Citizens: Ooo!

William: …Welkom in Nederland! *laughter, interrupted by violent coughing*

*fanfare*

Citizen: Welkom in Nederland!

Betty: Alright! Her ladyship has another engagement she must prepare for, so sorry!

Mary: Ugh, what’s next Betty?

Betty: Nothing, your ladyship. I just think you’ve been gawked at enough today.

Mary: Oh, thank you Betty!

Betty: What’s a lady-in-waiting for?

Mary: But I’m afraid William might be cross once he finds out I didn’t finish all the state greetings. I guess I’d actually have to spend time with him for him to be cross with me.

Betty: He’s not one to get cross about things; he’s quite charming actually if you get past the hermetic silence.

Mary: I suppose he prefers the company of *whispered* his men?

*fanfare*

William and Monmouth: *laughing*

William: *starts coughing violently*

Monmouth: I love this guy!

*fanfare*

Betty: You’ve heard that already, have you?

Mary: Is it true?

Betty: Rumors, your ladyship. I also heard rumors of a girl who wrote letters to a woman she called her husband. And I now know a woman who still writes these letters!

Mary: Dismissed!

Betty: Your ladyship.

Mary: Wait. Put the children to bed, will you? Wait– wait, wait wait– just [indecipherable]. Don’t judge me! Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear– stop!– husband… Let me start again: Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear husband: You’ve not responded to any of my letter as of late!

Anne: Dearest sister!

Mary: Oh good God, Anne! Still able to interrupt me from across the English Chanel!

Anne: It is with good nice that I write. Since we last spoke… I’m pregnant!

Mary and Anne: *squeeing*

Anne: I know! I know! I fucking know! Ah, someone has to produce some heirs in this family!

Mary: Hey…

Anne: What have you been up to? Oh! My friends are here! Thank you, sis!

Mary: Anne is pregnant. My younger sister is pregnant …I’m jealous! Ugh!

*fanfare*

William and Monmouth: To hunt!

Monmouth: ♪ I’ll sing you eight, O! ♪

William and Monmouth: ♪ Green grow the rushes, O! ♪

William: ♪ What are your eight, O? ♪

Monmouth: ♪ Eight for the April Rainers! ♪

William: ♪ Seven for the seven stars in the sky! ♪

William and Monmouth: ♪ Six for the six proud walkers! ♪ Five for the symbols at your door! ♪ Four for the Gospel makers! ♪ THREE, THREE THE RIVALS! ♪ Two, two the lily-white boys! ♪ Clothed all in green, O! ♪ One is one and all alone! ♪ And evermore shall be so! ♪

*fanfare*

Mary: Betty!

Betty: *imitating the song*

Mary: Stop!

Betty: Oh! Yes, your ladyship.

Mary: My cousin, the Bastard, and Prince William have been spending an awful lot of time together!

Betty: William loves the hunt.

Mary: How do you know?!

Betty: He told me!

Mary: You’ve spoken with him? Am I the only person in the entire world who’s not had a single conversation with my husband?!

Betty: You just need to catch him in the right mood.

*fanfare*

Mary: Dearest, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear– Oh my God, you’re pathetic! Two husbands and neither one replies!

Anne: Okay, so I wasn’t pregnant. Well, I was, but I’m not anymore.

Mary: Oh… Anne I’m so sorry!

Anne: I know. But I will be again. Maybe tonight! God be with me!

Mary: I don’t have to be Mary the Martyr. I can fix him. I can make it work. It’s a job, right? I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I’m just doing my job!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! Um, I was wondering–

William: Nothing!

Monmouth: The hunt did not go well!

William: Ugh!

Anne: Yup, pregnant!

Mary: Again? Wow!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! I’d love to talk with you!

William: …but–but–but we’re going to the hunt?

Mary: Yes, but I’d really like to talk with you.

William: …Okay?

Mary: In private.

William: Um… After the hunt?

Mary: Yeah, okay, sure.

*fanfare*

Anne: Okay, that pregnancy wasn’t meant to be, but tonight, THIS IS THE ONE!

Mary: Tonight, this is the one!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, William! I’m so looking forward to our evening!

William: Not in the mood!

Monmouth: The stag got away!

*fanfare*

Mary: The stag got away…

Anne: Pregnant!

Mary: Ugh!

*fanfare*

Mary: William, wait! Tonight?

William: Eh!

Mary: Wait! Here, for good luck!

Monmouth: *retching*

*fanfare*

Mary: Tonight! Tonight!

*fanfare*

Mary: Oh, husband! How was the hunt?

William: I got the stag!

Mary: Oh, you must be very merry!

William: I… uh… I’m exhausted. Ugh…

Monmouth: Come on. Shake it off.

William: *violent coughing*

*fanfare*

Mary: I will force myself to love this creature.

*fanfare*

Mary: *screams* ...Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! It must have been a chill!

William: [indecipherable]!

Mary: Oh, oh no! Oh no! Oh, my slipper! Oh, I–I’m so sorry to, uh, keep you from you duties!

William: I’ve been meaning to schedule a time for our talk.

Mary: Oh, you remembered?

William: What was the subject?

Mary: Us. You and me. Us and our… duties.

William: Ah. Our political duties are not as rulers, but as first citizens. Stadtholder means “the first citizen.” It is very different from life in England. For example, no Dutch citizen kisses my hand. In the Netherlands, we are all equals. Calvinists, Protestants, Jews– even the Jews Mary. [indecipherable] Do you like Holland?

Mary: Oh, it’s very, very clean. I’m not, um… I’m not sure if I’m fitting in.

William: Well, I don’t fit in and I was born here.

Mary: I feel the same way about my family.

William: Our family.

Mary: You’re very close to the Bastard, you know. Hunting and… actually talking and I was thinking, now that we’re actually talking, Anne is pregnant… again.

William: Ja? ...Yes? …This life is not the life you wanted, is that a true thing I just said? Bastard! Where is [indecipherable]?!

Monmouth: *whispers*

William: Your uncle, Charles II–

Mary: God save him!

William: –he’s dead.

Charles: …Oh.

Anne: I had a miscarriage. Oh, and Daddy’s the king now. God save him.

William: To his newly crowned majesty– James II– I send you greetings–

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: James II! Boy, you’re the husband of my eldest daughter, the heir apparent to the throne of England, my father’s grandchild, my son-in-law: it’s King James II!

William: Ah. From one very close ally to another very, very close ally– that is what we still are, right?

James: Say it! Say my name, William!

William: King James II?

James: YES! That’s me, the king! Say it again!

William: King James II, I first wish to send you condolences on the death of your brother, God save hi–

James: I was at his bed when he passed.

William: Surely, you provided much comfort to Charles–

James: Oh, “surely provided much comfort to Charles,” yes! He converted, on his deathbed, to Catholicism!

William: *spits*

James: I’ll never forget his final words to me: “Make sure my whores don’t starve!” Men of power keep mistresses, you know… Do you know that, William?

William: …Well, uh, the reason I write is because, well, I have an offer for you. You see, here in Europe we have a little club. I call it “a league”. Not everyone is allowed into it, actually, but England most definitely would be allowed in “the league”. It is what may be described as “exclusive”. A lot of really great countries have joined: uh, Austria, Spain, the Netherlands, even Savoy.

James: Which countries are not allowed?

William: France.

James: Oh, don’t like Louis, do we?

William: No, I don’t! Louis wants to be king of Europe and he– he is routinely invading us here in Holland. Your son-in-law: who is that? That is me! Which I know you aren’t thrilled about, but your daughter is the Princess of Orange. Louis XIV is invading not just my country, but also her country.

James: Please. Mary’s country is, and always will be, England!

William: And as the future Queen of England, you should protect her.

James: I wouldn’t be so sure about Mary. While she is the eldest, she’s still a woman, and unlike you, William, I plan to perform kingly duties with my queen.

William: I just wanted to invite you to our league.

James: I’m very important, I’ve got to go.

William: France is at our borders as we speak!

James: That’s not my problem. Mary was betrothed to him for years, you know, before she married you. My idiot brother made that happen against my protests but I’m the king now! I wasn’t supposed to be, but God wanted me. God needs me! Sixty years of second-fiddle to King Syphilis and now I’m calling the shots, William! I don’t need you, you need me, and frankly, I don’t really like you.

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: Shh!

William: Why you do that?

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: Shh!! Thank you. Ooo, ooo, how they all loved my brother Charles the Pervert– forced me to marry my daughter to that Dutch abortion! Now, I’d like to speak to the court! You all like… gossip, don’t you? Let’s talk about William.

*retro music / exert of “O Samba Brasileiro” by Walter Wanderley*

Mary: They’re laughing, Maria Regina. They’ve been whispering all morning and I don’t– I don’t want to sound paranoid but… I hear my name. I hear William’s name and I hear… Betty’s name.

Messengers: God save him!

Mary: Hello?

Messenger 1: Your father sends us–

Messenger 2: God save him!

Messenger 1: James II–

Messenger 2: Long may he reign!

Mary: Oh, Father sends you?

Messengers: God save him, yes!

Messenger 2: In his infinite and divine wisdom, we were sent to you–

Messenger 1: His oldest daughter–

Messenger 2: Possibly the future queen–

Mary: Possibly?

Messenger 1: Your mother, the queen–

Mary: She’s not my mother.

Messenger 2: Is hoping to reward England with many sons–

Messenger 1: But one’s eyes are to the future–

Messenger 2: He hasn’t forgotten his eldest.

Mary: Oh, we haven’t spoken–

Messenger 1: He thinks of you often.

Mary: Well, he doesn’t write.

Messenger 1: It’s not that he thinks of you as you are–

Mary: Okay…?

Messenger 2: More for what you could be.

Mary: Well, I’m just happy that he’s thinking of me.

Messenger 2: He’s thinking of your soul.

Messenger 1: Your eternal soul.

Messenger 2: Your eternal, everlasting soul.

Mary: Yup, those both mean the same thing.

Messenger 1: Since Jesus was crucified–

Messenger 2: [indecipherable], mind you–

Mary: Yes, I’ve heard.

Messenger 1: A church was born–

Messenger 2: The Catholic Church!

Mary: *spits* Oh, sorry, habit.

Messenger 1: James–

Messenger 2: King James–

Messengers: God save him!

Messenger 1: Has sent us–

Messenger 2: In his infinite and sacred judgment–

Messengers: To convert you to Catholicism!

Mary: …Yeah, no, I’m good.

Messenger 1: It’s the true faith.

Mary: Yes, next time he could just write.

Messenger 2: [indecipherable] reading materials!

Mary: Right, or even visit–

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] all the celebrities are Catholic.

Messenger 2: Wow, really?

Messenger 1: Really!

Messengers: Like who?

Messenger 2: The pope, you ever heard of him?

Messenger 1: Of course! Wow, the pope is Catholic?

Messengers: Who else?

Messenger 2: God!

Mary: Debatable.

Messengers: Who else?

Messenger 2: Louis XIV.

Messenger 1: Whoah, he’s a heartthrob.

Mary: Yes, okay, I’ve heard enough!

Messenger 1: But Louis’ such a hunk!

Messenger 2: And Catholic!

Messenger 1: And… He’s Catholic?

Messenger 2: You better believe it!

Messengers: A Catholic hunk!

Mary: Okay, I’m married!

Messenger 1: For now.

Mary: …Excuse me?

Messenger 1: Hard to ignore the rumors–

Messenger 2: Naughty rumors–

Messenger 1: Everyone’s tittling–

Messenger 2: A-tittle here, a-tittle there–

Messengers: Tittle everywhere!

Messenger 1: That little Dutch devil–

Messenger 2: Evil Protestant pervert–

Mary: Oh, no, no, no, him buggering boys– that’s just a rumor!

Messenger 1: Boys?!

Messenger 2: Buggering?!

Messenger 1: Boys?!

Messenger 2: Buggering?!

Messengers: Buggering boys?!

Messenger 1: More like buggering the help.

Messenger 2: Dutch devil!

Mary: With the help?

Messengers: Buggering the help.

Messenger 1: Yes, everyone knows–

Messenger 2: Knows her name even.

Mary: Do you know their name?

Messenger 1: Well, I’ve said everyone–

Messenger 2: We’re part of everyone–

Mary: So, yes?

Messengers: Yes!

Mary: What’s his name?

Messenger 1: His name?

Messenger 2: His name?

Messengers: Squinty Betty!

Messenger 1: Squinty Betty’s a man?

Messenger 2: I didn’t know she was a man!

Messeger 1: No, I bet Betty’s a man.

Messenger 2: No, man, she’s a wo-man.

Messenger 1: Wo-man?

Messengers: Wo-man, she’s a wo-man!

Mary: Wait, Squinty Betty?!

Messenger 1: And the Dutch devil!

Messenger 2: Evil Dutch devil!

Messenger 1: Evil!

Messenger 2: Evil: that’s not good!

Messenger 1: No, it’s not good!

Messenger 2: That’s the opposite of good!

Messengers: And what’s the opposite of good?

Mary: Evil!

Messangers: *scream*

Mary: *screams*

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] James–

Messenger 2: King James–

Messengers: God save him!

Messenger 1: Has the fires burning.

Mary: Fires?

Messenger 2: To feel the heat.

Messenger 1: Ow!

Messenger 2: Careful.

Messenger 1: It’s the heat.

Messenger 2: I feel it.

Messenger 1: [indecipherable] King James [indecipherable] our beloved England [indecipherable] burning more evil people than Charles ever did.

Mary: Wait, he’s burning people?

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: He’s burning people?!

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: Father’s burning people?!

Messenger 2: [indecipherable]

Messenger 1: Evil people!

Mary: Jesus!

Messengers: Praise him!

Messenger 1: Praise Jesus!

Messenger 2: Praise God!

Messenger 1: Praise the pope!

Messenger 2: And above all, praise the king!

Messengers: God save King James II, long may he reign!

Mary: …William and Betty– no… No, I’ll have nothing to do with silly, irreverent myths… Betty! Um, throw these away. And, um, put the children to bed, will you? Oh– oh– oh– oh– oh, um… question: how is it you always to find William in such a talkative mood?

Betty: I just run into him.

*laid back retro music / exert of “Rain” by Walter Wanderley*

Mary: It’s late. No, you don’t have to leave. You were in Betty’s room. Do you know how I know that? Maybe because the entire court is talking about it! No, you don’t need to talk! I have tried to get you to talk for months, you do not need to talk now! Fuck off, Betty! The longest I’ve ever spent with you is [indecipherable]. You’re impossible! You’re thick! Uncaring! Cruel! My life here is suffering and now you make me the fool? To my father, to the court, and to myself! I’m the fool! You know, it was better when I thought you were gay; I thought “Well, at least it’s not my fault” but now I know, “No, it is my fault!” You turned down marrying me once before, why did you have to say yes this time? I was engaged to Louis XIV! I could’ve been in Versailles, in the most beautiful place on Earth and I would’ve been happy– no, I would be happy! And I would be liked and my family would love me and I would’ve done everything right, but then you came along! And ruined it! And everything! And me! And– this isn’t right! No! This is not how this was supposed to go! It was supposed to be me and Louis and it would’ve been right and normal and then I would be normal and happy and I don’t know– I don’t know why you had to say yes this time! Louis– Louis– Louis is– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis– Louis’ the king! Right? Right? And he’s beautiful! I assume. I’ve seen the portraits– which are rarely accurate– but I’ve always wanted to marry him! Well, I was always supposed to marry him– but at least he’s nice! Yes, I’ve not met him, but at least I’ve heard that he’s ni– well, I guess I’ve actually not heard anything, but I was alway supposed to ma– Well, I guess I always– Okay, well, I guess I’ve never really actually thought about it! Well, I guess I never actually like Louis, or men… Men in general. I mean, I write to a woman who I call my husband, and I’ve always had a crush on her, but she’s not very nice to me, and she writes to my sister more than she writes to me, AND I DON’T KNOW IF I’M A LESBIAN, OKAY?! I don’t like men! But I don’t know if I like women either– historically speaking, there’s some things we just can’t know about me, okay, historically speaking– but personally speaking, you know what? I’M FIFTEEN YEARS OLD!! How am I supposed to know?! You know what? No! I didn’t want to marry Louis, now that I think about it, because, well, I never actually thought about it because, well, I’M NEVER SUPPOSED TO THINK! But I am gonna think! Like you said, we’re just first citizens here, right? So I’m allowed to think! So I’m gonna think! So I’m gonna think! Right, let me think! …Okay. I have something to say. I’m fifteen years old, William. Do you have any idea how scary this is? Leaving my country, marrying you, a stranger, I… I don’t speak the language, I don’t have any friends, and you, my husband, are still a stranger. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to like me. But please don’t be cruel to me. I… I do not know how much… more a fifteen year old girl can take.

William: …Betty’s a spy. Before I married you, I had asked her to inform me about you.

Mary: Yeah, a spy, that’s the best you could come up with–

William: It’s true.

Mary: Yes, my lady-in-waiting is a spy! …Well, what did Betty the spy say?

William: She said you weren’t like your family.

Mary: Well, I tried to be like them.

William: I never tried.

Mary: Well, I think that makes you honest.

William: But not liked.

Mary: Well, they don’t like either of us. We share that at least.

William: I need to say something.

Mary: Okay! Good! Yeah! Okay! I’m here! I can listen! …Is it a problem? Is it personal? Is it about what I think it’s about? I know what it is, William.

William: You do?

Mary: Yes. It’s about–

Mary and William: Your penis / Your father

William: Wait, what?!

Mary: What about my father?

William: He terrifies me.

Mary: Oh, yeah, me too.

William: The balance of peace in this world is a delicate thing and James isn’t.

Mary: You can talk to me about these things, William. I know who my father is, you’re not going to hurt my feelings.

William: Yes… My penis?

Mary: Oh, um, well, I mean… why haven’t we…?

William: I’m uncomfortable around–

Mary: Me.

William: …people.

Mary: Oh, yeah, well, same, haha... But, um… It’s just a job, right? We would just be… doing our… our job.

*classical music / exert of “Zadok The Priest, Hwv 258″ by the English Chamber Orchestra*

William: *panting*

William: *panting*

William: *panting*

Mary: I HAVE NEWS! …I’M PREGNANT!! I did it! William did it! We, um… well, obviously, we did it. Oh my God, I feel a strange thing!

William: Are you okay?!

Mary: No! Yes! No! …I feel… happy.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Anne: I have news!

Mary: Hello, Anne!

Anne: Hello, Mary.

Mary: You’re pregnant?

Anne: No, Mumsy is.

Mary: She’s not our mother.

Anne: They say if it’s a boy, God has chosen to make England Catholic again, but that’s only a 50-50 chance.

Mary: No, he wouldn’t baptize him Catholic, Anne.

Anne: I wouldn’t be so sure.

Mary: But we’ve just had nine years of civil war, why would he lead us into another?

Anne: To save us from the Dutch Devil.

William: Me?

Anne: I prefer “the Dutch Abortion” but “devil” isn’t bad. Gotta go!

Mary: God be with thee, Anne.

Anne: P.S. I may be pregnant, not sure.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Mary: Ohhh!

Messengers: Glorious day!

Messenger 1: Tra-la!

Messenger 2: We’ve been sent to you by your father, the king!

Messenger 1: God save him!

Messenger 2: Long may he reign!

Mary: Again, he could always just write.

Messenger 1: He has his own pregnancy to attend to.

Messenger 2: His future son!

Mary: Are you certain about that?

Messenger 1: God ordained it!

Messenger 2: A Catholic England!

Messengers: Tra-la!

Messenger 1: We’ve been sent to beseech you.

Messenger 2: Consider your child’s–

Messenger 1: Everlasting soul!

Messenger 2: Baptize your child in the Catholic faith!

Mary: *spits* …morning sickness.

Messenger 1: For your child!

Messenger 2: For your father!

Messenger 1: You must respect him!

Messenger 2: Honor him!

Messenger 1: It’s in the Bible!

Messenger 2: “Honor thy father”!

Messengers: The Fifth Commandment!

Messenger 1: Honor the king of England!

Messenger 2: God save him!

Messenger 1: Long may he reign!

Messenger 2: For England!

Messengers: Make the baby Catholic!

William: Mary?

Mary: Yes?

William: Honor is not obeying.

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Anne: I have news!

Mary: You’re pregnant.

Anne: Besides that, Mary, but yes.

Mary: Oh, congratulations!

Anne: Yes, same to you!

Mary: Thank you!

Anne: Thank you! I have news: people are talking about Mother’s pregnancy–

Mary: Ah, she’s not our mother.

Anne: –And they think it’s all a big fake! Everyone is saying how [video skips]

Mary: Who’s saying that?

Anne: The court, Parliament, everyone! Oh, they don’t like Papa; they say every nineteen out of twenty want him gone.

Mary: Yes, but not likely cause the king does not–

William: Mary–

Anne: Ew!

Mary: Anne!

Anne: Sorry… Hello, William… glad you got my sister pregnant. *retches*

Mary: No. No, it’s not right for me to dance… No! No, I can have this moment! I can be happy! Yeah, nothing’s gonna stop me– *claps* –from enjoying this moment! Go ahead!

*cheerful folk music / “Bransle de Bourgogne” by Brisk Recorder Quartet Amsterdam*

Monmouth: Ah! I thank you for the generosity both you and William have shown me over the last undetermined period of time, but I must leave.

William: Oh, where’re you going? I was going to plan another hunt.

Monmouth: There comes a time in every mans life where the cruel, [indecipherable] eye of destiny looks upon him! The hero of every story has his moment of action! [indecipherable] standing on the precipice of glory to see the apotheosis of my journey’s end on that glorious mountain green! Today I sail! This story shall no longer wander unguided like an orphan clinging from one vague historical anecdote to another! No! Search no longer, poor play, for you have found your hero! And that hero… it’s me. Someone has to save our England! I have a mighty army of almost one hundred men! Eighty two to be exact!

Mary: Wait, with eighty two men you’re planning to–

Monmouth: Invade England, seize the crown, depose your father, my uncle, and save England from Catholic *spits* tyranny?

Mary: You’re planning on doing this with…

Monmouth: Eighty two men! Historically, this is what I did, so yah. [indecipherable] sweet cousin, it will be a Protestant England! ALL HAIL KING BASTARD THE FIRST! CHA-CHAH! Ah! He-yaaaaaaaaaaaa!!

Mary: Eighty two men can’t overthrow the king of England!

William: He’s hoping the people will rise.

Mary: What would they do to father?

William: Kill him.

Mary: Ah! Ah!

William: Okay, okay, okay! The Bastard doesn’t have any support, your father will be fine! You can have this moment; you deserve to be happy.

Mary: How? I may not like my family, but I love them. Yes, I-I deserve to be happy, but Father doesn’t deserve to die!

William: He won’t, he’ll be fine!

Mary: You can’t know that for sure.

William: I do! …I-I promise you– I-I… I promise on the life of our child that nothing will happen to your father. I’ll see to it.

Mary: You will?

William: Mmhm.

Mary: …Okay… Okay, yes, okay… I’m happy.

William: Rest. Nurse? Take my wife to her bedchamber. Make sure she doesn’t want for anything.

Mary: Ooo!

William: [indecipherable]. James?

*evil music / exert of “Allegro” by Marco Rosano*

James: James?! Use my full title!

William: I have grave news.

James: Oh, has France invaded you again?

William: Your nephew, the Duke of Monmouth–

James: Who?

William: …The Bastard.

James: Oh, why didn’t you say?! How is the lad?

William: He’s leading an army to depose you and take the crown for himself.

James: *laughs* You’re having a laugh! …Shit! How dare he! Doesn’t he know who I am?! I’m the king! I’m very well respected and loved– everybody loves me! *gasps* Why doesn’t he love me?! Oh, he’s just a little shit bastard, I’ll crush him! How dare he not see how awesome I am! How powerful and strong and– oh! I am so mad right now! It was a good day too, it was going really well, I had just finished telling the queen “I’m gonna make it a good one today, you know!” Ugh, I am so mad right now I’m literally shaking! *gasps* I need to eat something!

William: I hope you now see that our relationship is very…

*execution drums / exert from “March to the Scaffold” by Paul Edward*

Headsman: *giggling* For your crimes against the crown, you are sentenced to death!

James: Say hello to your father for me, boy. Any last words?

Monmouth: Fuck off!

James: How dare you! Kill the bastard!

Headsman: God save the king!

James: No one questions my authority!

Monmouth: Piss off!

James: Bastard?!

Monmouth: I have still a few [indecipherable]

James: How dare you! [indecipherable]

Headsman: Thank you. One more!

James: Who’s the douchebag now, huh?

Monmouth: You are!

James: Bastard! [indecipherable] I am not a douchebag, I am the king of England!

Monmouth: Douche of England more like it!

James: Cut off his head!

Headsman: [indecipherable] does anyone want to take over, huh?

Monmouth: It takes– ugh! –and this is all true– ugh! –five blows! Ugh! King Douche II! Ugh– *splutters*

James: Who’s the douchebag now, huh? Not me. I am not a douche! You hear me, Bastard?! I am not a douche! You hear me, England? I am not a douche! I am King James II! Not King Douche II! King James II! Charles didn’t respect me, and you, you didn’t respect me, but my people will. OR I’LL FUCKING MAKE THEM! They will fucking tremble in love and adoration– ohh! I want hundreds to pay for this bastard’s actions! I don’t care who they were, if they even so much as saw him walk by, they are to be executed. Churchyard trees are to be littered with corpses, the military men will be order to play in time with the twitching of their feet! And if you think that this is too much, too cruel, I’ll remind you: One, I am just being historically accurate, and two, I am the goddamn motherfucking King of England! William!

William: …your majesty.

James: Oh, I couldn’t’ve done it without you! …But I know what this is. Scared to lose a few more windmills to Louis, huh? What, you thought that you could bribe me with this little quid-pro-quo?

William: I didn’t do it for you, I did it for Mary.

James: Mary? Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this. What? You thought that I was so stupid that little nugget of information would have me on all-fours like a whipped bitch begging to do you any favor you asked? No! That little shit was nothing! I could have fought him off while wiping my ass! I owe you nothing! France may be at your borders, but England could join them just as easily! God knows Louis and I talk about it. *laughs* Tip-toe around me, William. Now, I’d like to speak to my daughter. Now!

William: Mary, could you come here, please? I have a letter for you from your father.

Mary: He’s safe! Thank you, William!

James: Mary, my eldest daughter! *laughs* You know, I fought your uncle Charles about you having to marry that–

Mary: [indecipherable] William’s wonderful, actually. Yes, I–I miss my home very much, but Holland, it’s very, very clean.

James: [indecipherable] they tell me you’re considering a Catholic baptism.

Mary: Oh, no I’m not, Father.

James: You have a responsibility to me, Mary. Biblically, I am your father and you must honor me.

Mary: Well– I do honor you.

James: Then you must obey me.

Mary: Well, honor is not obeying.

James: From King Douche II to you now?

Mary: King Douche?

James: How dare you! I am very [indecipherable] you talk back to me. I am your father and you must honor me!

Mary: Enough of this.

James: You will make the child Catholic!

Mary: Stop!

James: We all know you have no choice. You’re a prisoner.

Mary: Please…

James: [indecipherable], Mary, there’s hope in the distance!

Mary: What are you suggesting?

James: Just because you… lie with the Dutch Dog doesn’t mean you need to get its flees.

Mary: He’s my husband!

James: *laughs* William isn’t long for this world.

Mary: What are you planning?

James: Oh, come now!

Mary: What are you plann– ah! Ah!

James: *laughs* You look like him. Can’t even walk without wheezing, spits blood; your time in the tower is almost over, Mary.

Mary: He is the father of my child. William, could you come here, please?

James: *scoffs* Is he the father? Last I heard, he couldn’t perform.

Mary: You’re one to talk!

James: My performance isn’t to be questioned!

Mary: I know the rumors of the queen’s great belly!

James: [indecipherable] rumors: just a few!

Mary: Nineteen out of twenty! That’s what– ah! Ah!

James: Make the child Catholic!

Mary: *spits*

James: Your mother–

Mary: She’s not my mother!

James: No, your real mother! Remember the day she died?

Mary: Please, Father, I’m in pain! I don’t want–

James: The day she died the priest came to administer her last rites, to cleanse her soul. Without it, your mother would be damned for all eternity! Her skin would scorch, blisters would form– weeping blisters!

Mary: *voice breaking* …William?

James: A priest came… and she refused him.

Mary: William! …That’s a lie!

James: After my counseling she refused the Protestant priest. The Catholic bishop was called in and all was confessed. So, in your philosophy, Mary, is it your mother or your child who’s damned to unfathomable pain and suffering? Which is the one true faith? If you baptize that child Protestant, it means you believe it’s your mother suffering, right now as we speak. Have you ever considered hellfire, Mary? *laughs* It’s something to think about. Oh! Your new mummy’s in labour now. Got to run.

Anne: Mary– and William *scoffs*– the queen’s had a baby. It’s a boy. They’ve baptized him Catholic *spits* toldja so. But there’s something else. I have some gossip! All of London– they think it’s a changeling! They think it’s not a real child. They think she snuck a child into her bed to pass off as our brother! Oh! Papa’s going mad. Something’s going to happen. Something bad.

William: May I see it?

Betty: There’s nothing to see. ...You should go to her, William.

*dramatic music / exert from “2020” by SUUNS*

♪ And what you see is really what you see ♪ ♪ What you, what you, what you, what you ♪ ♪ Do what you please, the thing what you see ♪ ♪ What you, what you, what you, what you ♪ ♪ And what you see you feel ♪ ♪ Coming real, take your way ♪ ♪ All through the way… ♪

~ Intermission ~

*guitar strumming*

Chorus: ♪ Good fortune [indecipherable] William and Mary [indecipherable]-tend ♪ ♪ May glories increase and their lives never end ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] daily successes our nation may find ♪ ♪ For England [indecipherable] they both are designed ♪

Mary: William?

William: Huh?

Mary: Why is there a Greek chorus?

William: [indecipherable] chorus now.

Mary: Yes, why?

Chorus: ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolution! ♪ ♪ William commands and we will obey ♪ ♪ Over the hills and far away ♪

Mary: Shoot, shoot, shoot! What story with a Greek chorus ends well?!

William: It’s just a device, Mary, it doesn’t mean–

Mary: The letter! They’re here because of the letter!

William: We received a letter?

Mary: From England. They call themselves–

Chorus: ♪ THE IMMORTAL SEVEN! ♪

Mary and William: The Immortal Seven.

Mary: Parliament has invited us to England.

William: They’ve invited us to invade England.

Mary: Why would they do that?

William: I don’t know.

Mary: We can’t invade!

Chorus: ♪ Invade you must, there’s no time to waste ♪ ♪ James is a monster! Our country defaced ♪ ♪ Blood in the streets and corpses in trees ♪ ♪ Come and put our minds at ease ♪

William: Your father is in talks to invade with Louis. Where? Here! He’s–he’s had his boy and he’s baptized him Catholic and all of England is on the brink of Civil War again!

Mary: What does that have to do with us?

William: Um, well… They want us to depose your father.

Mary: It has to be us?

William: I don’t see another alternative.

Mary: Shoot, shoot, shoot! Is it right?

William: Right? We–we save England, we save the Netherlands, we keep Europe in balance– yes.

Mary: But is it right for a daughter to depose her father? It’s the Fifth Commandment, right? “Honor thy father!”

William: He doesn’t need to die.

Mary: Well, I know my history, William! You only depose a king by killing him. How many former kings do you see walking around?! But… He can’t invade Holland! It’s your country and you care so much for it and the people and it’s so very, very clean– Okay, yes! We should do this. But we have to do it a different way. No blood. No killing. If it’s an invasion, it has to be a bloodless invasion!

William: I don’t know…

Mary: Can you try?

William: Invade one of the most powerful countries in the world, other-throw its king, and not hurt anyone in the process?

Mary: Please?

William: …Ja.

Chorus: *gasps* ♪ What’s that you say? ♪ ♪ We prick up our ears ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] you come ♪ ♪ To end all our fears ♪ ♪ Think of what you both could be ♪ ♪ You’ll go down in history! ♪

Mary: We could, couldn’t we! Imagine all that “First Citizen” stuff here in the Netherlands– we could do that in England! You could bring all of your wonderful ideas to my country! Imagine: Freedom of religion!

William: Freedom of the press!

Mary: And no more torturing! Or bloody pomp and circumstance! And we do it bloodless! We ride into England and the people will rise with us and father will say “Oh wow, that’s what the people want!” And it’ll all work out [indecipherable] Why shouldn’t we be king and queen?! Neither one of us want the damn job so we’re the ones who should have it…

William: Would I be king?

Mary: Yes.

William: Who would you be?

Mary: The queen.

William: Right, but who’s the one in charge?

Mary: …Oh.

William: It would be you, you’re first in line.

Mary: Oh, me? No. 

Chorus: *murmuring in agreement*

Mary: No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I’d rather not.

William: It’s not up to you, you’re first in line.

Mary: Ah, but you! You–you are after me!

William: Right, but you still come first.

Mary: But I don’t want to be queen– okay, wait, wait! Let me think… Okay, solution. ….We’ll… both be king and queen!

William: It does not work that way.

Mary: [spluttering] Listen! We go to England; you raise an army and depose– aw– depose father and then we say “Alright! We’re both king and queen!” What’re they gonna do, say no?

William: Joint monarchs– it would be a first.

Mary: [indecipherable] I don’t know if it’s right. God says to honor thy father, but… that doesn’t feel right.

William: We can say no, Mary.

Mary: No… You okay?

Anne: Yes, quite, sister.

Mary: Okay, good.

Anne: Stop staring at me!

Mary: Let’s keep going. And my heart says to bother you.

William: Your heart says that? What do we want to do?

Chorus: ♪ To England, to England! We sail, we sail! To England, to England! At last, at last! A tempest, a tempest! Begins, begins! And [indecipherable], and [indecipherable]! [indecipherable], [indecipherable]! ♪

Soloist: ♪ To England, we sail / [indecipherable] / [indecipherable] / [indecipherable] ♪

Chorus: ♪ The men are afraid ♪ ♪ There’s no debate ♪ ♪ Revolution now must wait ♪

*storm sounds*

Mary: Ahh!

William: THEY’RE CALLING IT THE CATHOLIC WIND! WE CANNOT SAIL FOR ENGLAND UNTIL IT PASSES! WE’VE ALREADY LOST A THOUSAND HORSES! WE HAVE FORTY THOUSAND MEN WAITING TO INVADE– BUT THIS WIND!!

Mary: There have been so many omens! This wind; the miscarriage! Is it a sign from God?! Can a daughter who deposes her father be a Christian?! Can doing what’s right and God’s will be at odds?!

William: WHAT?!

Mary: CAN DOING WHAT’S RIGHT AND GOD’S WILL BE AT ODDS?!

William: Oh, it is over.

Chorus: ♪ [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ William and Mary, our God has ordained ♪ ♪ Rex and Regina, this we say ♪ ♪ Sail on the future king’s birthday ♪

Mary: Wait, really?

William: Ja. It’s my birthday. The fourth. Historically, that’s just how it happened to work out.

Mary: Oh! Well, that’s a good omen, right? Happy birthday to you!

William: Yes.

Mary: William, wait! Look… I respect you. And, under normal circumstances, I would never breach this, um, unspoken agreement, but, um, it’s his birthday– ah, could we– um, uh– you know– could we do just one round of “Happy Birthday”? Um, what’s a good starting note? *hums* Is that good? *hums* Ready?

Mary, chorus, and audience: ♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday to you! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday dear William! ♪ ♪ Happy birthday to your! ♪

*cheering*

William: This is the greatest birthday present I’ve ever received. Thank you.

Chorus: ♪ William has come and we will defend ♪ ♪ To kick out the tyrant and and then will ascend ♪ ♪ His first steps on English soil ♪ ♪ Defender of faith and [indecipherable] ♪

William: Hello? Where the hell is everyone?

Peasant: *screams* Oh, it’s [indecipherable] Day. Everyone’s busy catching cats.

William: Ah. Well, um, I am William of Orange, Defender of the Faith and– wait, why are you catching cats?

Peasant: To [indecipherable] the pope.

William: Ah. Well, I am William of Orange, Defende– the pope?

Peasant: *sighs* Not the real one sadly, but yeah. [indecipherable] cats and set them on fire.

William: Why you do this?

Peasant: For God! It’s tradition! …You’re not from around here are ya, foreigner!

Chorus: ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolu– ♪

Peasant: [indecipherable] you are making such a racket!

William: I am William of Orange, Defender of the Faith!

*cat screeches*

Peasant: [indecipherable] you scared the cat!

William: Good woman, have you not heard of our coming?

Peasant: …[indecipherable] in England?

William: I–

Peasant: [indecipherable] and whip em til their backs be bloody!! Ngyeehhhhhhhhh!!

William: *screams* I AM WILLIAM OF ORANGE! I COME FROM THE HAGUE BY INVITATION OF PARLIAMENT! Good lady! We come to overthrow King James II.

Peasant: *spits*

William: Progress. I am the [indecipherable]’s husband and myself, third in line. We come to bring stability and religious… freedom to this… country.

Peasant: Oh, you and what army?

Chorus: ♪ We are [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ Join is so you [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ James will soon be overthrown ♪

Peasant: Oh, [indecipherable], sir! I don’t have anything of worth but… I’d be proud to give you my cats.

William: *coughs*

Peasant: Oh, must be the cat smoke.

William: Oh, this air is filthy. I need a little rest.

Messenger: ♪ One man tried to poison your food ♪

Anne: ♪ Some with bullets [indecipherable] ♪

Chorus: ♪ Mostly [indecipherable] ready to fight ♪

Charles: ♪ [indecipherable] horse was white! ♪

William: Let us move forward!

James: William! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!

Chorus: ♪ James was appalled by the sight that he saw ♪

James: ♪ I’ll have your head, boy, remember [indecipherable]! ♪

Chorus: ♪ Soon his generals started to fall ♪

James: ♪ Troops, make an example of him! ♪

Chorus: ♪ James’ troops then began to abandon ♪ ♪ Our glorious William now [indecipherable] ♪

James: Did you not all swear your loyalty?! You are all my subjects! *gaps* Mary! Ungrateful daughter! You must swear your loyalty to your father! It is God’s will! The Fifth Commandment! Consider the hell– *splutters* What the hell? Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ Blood from his nose ♪ ♪ [indecipherable] to God ♪ ♪ James was denied ♪ ♪ His royal throne ♪

James: No! No! What the hell?! *spluttering* The Fifth Commandment– shit! This is terribly inconvenient

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ To James [indecipherable] ♪ ♪ His nose really bled ♪

James: WAIT, WHAT?!!

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ To France, King James ♪ ♪ Finally fleeeeeeeeeeee– ♪

James: STOP SINGING!

Anne, Messenger, and Monmouth: ♪ –eeeeeeeedddddd ♪

James: What, is this really historically accurate?! You’re just gonna let me go, William?! HA! Coward! I will return, William, I promise you that! Mary! Ungrateful daughter! You will suffer the fait of an unfaithful daughter. This is not how my story was… suppose to be told… To France.

Chorus: ♪ William has won now that James has fled ♪

William: *prolonged violent coughing*

Chorus: ♪ London is happy! ♪ ♪ With bonfires lit ♪ ♪ Willy’s lungs can’t take the smoke ♪ ♪ And all the fog just made him choke ♪ ♪ Over the hills and it must be done ♪ ♪ To England, Glorious Revolution! ♪ ♪ William commanded and now we’ve won ♪ ♪ Our new day begins with the rising of the sun! ♪ ♪ Of the sun! ♪

William: *groaning, gasping for breath*

#redlady speaks #it takes. a really long time to transcribe something #history brainrot #william iii #mary ii #the glorious revolution #charles ii #james ii #queen anne #the stuarts

[felipeandletizia]

July 29, 2020: King Felipe and Queen Letizia visited Cantabria. This was the fifteenth of the planned visits to all the Autonomous Communities once the state of alarm ended, to support the recovery of social, economic and citizen activity, after the pandemic.

At the National Cattle Market "Jesús Collado Soto", Their Majesties the Kings were received by the President of Cantabria, Miguel Ángel Revilla; the President of the Cantabrian Parliament, Joaquín Gómez Gómez; the Government delegate in the Autonomous Community of Cantabria, Ainoa Quiñones; and the mayor of Torrelavega, Javier López Estrada.

After the greetings, Their Majesties the Kings entered the interior of the market where a "Jota Montañesa", a traditional welcome dance in western Cantabria, was performed by four people (whistle, drum and a couple dancing) belonging to the Association of Dances Virgen de las Nieves de Tanos.

Then, Don Felipe and Doña Letizia began the visit to the premises with explanations by the director of the National Cattle Market "Jesús Collado Soto", Isaac Bolado and the market's commercial advisor, Carmelo Diego. They started with the milking area, then the sale of cattle and finally the exhibition of bovine breeds.

After the visit to the National Cattle Market of Torrelavega, Their Majesties the Kings held a meeting with the representatives of the groups of the livestock sector of Cantabria, in which they had a few words of gratitude and recognition to the sector "today and always".

Don Felipe has highlighted the relevance of the primary sector during the pandemic where Spanish society, he said, has rediscovered the importance of this sector. An essential sector in the entire food chain that has been essential for the Spanish.

For her part, Doña Letizia has been interested in the innovation of small and medium producers through direct sales on the Internet and in the relationship of the sector with distribution chains.

After the meeting, Their Majesties the Kings moved to the Port of Santoña, where upon arrival, they were received by the President of Cantabria, Miguel Ángel Revilla; the President of the Cantabrian Parliament, Joaquín Gómez Gómez; the Government delegate in the Autonomous Community of Cantabria, Ainoa Quiñones; and the mayor of Santoña, Sergio Abascal.

The Kings began a tour of the Port, during which they received explanations from the President of the Federation of Fishermen's Associations of Cantabria and President of the "Virgen del Puerto" Fishermen's Association of Santoña, Miguel Fernández. On this tour, they observed the work of a group of women "rederas" who were on the dock carrying out the work of repairing nets and went up to the bridge of a fishing boat, where the skipper made explanations about their activity. Don Felipe and Doña Letizia ended their tour on foot at the viewpoint of Puerto de Santoña.

The fishing port of Santoña is managed by the Virgen del Puerto Fishermen's Association. They have the base 34 ships, of the 132 that are currently active in Cantabria.

Their Majesties the Kings then went to the consortium company of the Consortium Group, where they visited the plant. During the visit, the explanations were in charge of the vice president of the Consortium Group, Valeria Piaggio and the general director of the factory, Ignacio Corral, during their tour the Kings passed through the packaging area of ​​the bonito, they saw a sample of the work of the sobadoras de anchovies and went through the autoclaves, the area where the sterilization process takes place.

#King Felipe #Queen Letizia #King Felipe of Spain #Queen Letizia of Spain #King Felipe VI #King Felipe VI of Spain #Official Event #Cantabria 2020 #Spanish Tour 2020 #COVID-19 #July 2020

[mythologyfolklore]

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 13

Chapter Thirteen: The Odyssey, Pt. 01

.

Zeus was doing his correspondence.

He was also mentally cursing himself for allowing Ares to go on his world trip.

The war god, who was always written off as stupid and incompetent had been a big help with the mail, but now Zeus was submerging in a sea of prayers, letters from both his own pantheon and from abroad, and complaints. Complaints en masse.

“'You won't be needing me', he said, 'That stuff is really easy', he said!”, Zeus grumbled irritably.

Then there was a knock on the door.

“Enter!”

It was Athena, who came in.

Zeus stood up. “My little Owl-Eye! So good to see you!”

Athena looked around, assessed the situation in one glance and grinned: “Too much paper stuff?”

“Too much paper stuff”, he confirmed.

“If I help you with all of that, will you let Odysseus finally return home?”

Zeus laughed heartily: “I was going to do that anyway! But how could I possibly refuse that offer?”

Athena beamed at him.

Cute.

.

After doing the majority of her father's paper stuff and questioning how Ares with his lack of tact had done this all those millennia, Athena wasted no time in descending down to earth and onto Ithaka.

She had to take a look at the situation there – and to see, if the son of Odysseus was any good.

In the shape of an old friend of Odysseus' she went up to the palace.

Even from the outside, she could hear a lot of noise.

What the Tartaros is going on in there?

As she came into the yard, she saw strangers – probably the suitors of Penelope – playing boardgames to waste their time, sitting on the skins of bovines they had slaughtered and generally living the high life consuming the wealth of another, like parasites.

Soon she was noticed and approached by a young man with chestnut brown hair.

The sharp green eyes, so much like those of Odysseus, gave away who he was.

“Welcome, welcome!”, Telemakhos exclaimed, “Do come in, our respected guest! We shall give you the best we have to offer! And after you have eaten and refreshed yourself, tell us what brings you here.”

Athena could tell, that the young man was miserable at the situation, but he didn't show it.

He was nothing but polite and respectful towards his guest and readied her a place apart from all the insolent suitors.

“I don't assume you want to eat with this noisy crew”, he commented.

“No, I prefer to eat and drink in peace.”

Just a few moments later, the suitors came in, rude and hubristic as they apparently always were.

They were served and then forced a musician to sing for them. The man glared at them hatefully, but began to sing beautifully.

Telemakhos looked pained and murmured to the disguised Athena: “Would you lend me your ear?”

“Of course.”

“I hate this. I hate how these people consume the goods of another without care or compensation, while my mother and I mourn my dear father, who is most likely dead, even though some say that he'll come back one day. But our hope is dwindling from day to day. And we can't even give him an honourable burial, because his bones are probably lying on the bottom of the sea, where the salt water washes and bleaches them. But tell me, stranger, who are you, which family and what home do you come from?”

“My name is Mentor, son of Anchialos and Lord of Taphos. I'm a good friend of your father's and our fathers were friends before us (you can ask Laertes, I heard he lives away from here out of shame). I'm on my way to Temesa to trade precious metals and tissue. I wanted to pay you a visit, because I heard that your father was home. But apparently he's not. But I'm certain he's not dead either; perhaps some brutal and savage tribe is holding him captive and keeping him from coming home. Now I'm not a prophet, but I know for certain, that the Deathless Ones will grant him a safe homecoming soon. He won't stay away from home for much longer, I'm sure. But what about you? Are you really his son? You have his eyes, you do. I may not have seen him in over twenty years, but his face was hardly one I could forget!”

“He is my father”, Telemakhos sighed, “But I wish that rather instead of such an unfortunate man it was one, who could be here with his family, growing old in peace in his own land.”

Athena pitied the young man, but had to keep her act up.

“Now, now. Your family was made for glory and you're no different, I can tell. But tell me, what is this celebration here for? Those men there certainly don't obey the laws of hospitality, uncouth and shamefully as they're acting. Any sensible man would be ashamed.”

Telemakhos frowned – just the way his father always did.

“I'm not going to lie: there must have been a time, when this was an honest household, wealthy and abundant, while its master was still here. But just a few years ago, the entire noble population of this one and the surrounding islands have come to woo my mother and now they're feeding off our property. We can't get rid of them, they won't leave until my mother marries one of them. She loathes the idea, but she can't offend them by refusing outright, so she's putting them off for as long as she can. Meanwhile these parasites are eating my reserves and sooner or later they will surely kill me.”

“Mentor” was indignant. “By the gods, you really need Odysseus back home! Would he come through this door in full armour and make short work of them! Oh, for them to be taken by dark Soteira¹ and rot in the underworld!”

“I wish”, the young man muttered.

But the disguised goddess continued: “But it's all in the hand of the gods, whether he will come home and have bloody revenge. For now, this is my counsel, from an old friend to a young one: summon the council of the island, tell the suitors to leave and your mother, if she chooses to marry, to return to the home of her father, for a dower to be prepared. As for yourself, prepare a good ship with twenty rowers and travel abroad to inquire about the whereabouts of your glorious father. First travel to Pylos and ask Nestor and if he can't help you out, move on to Sparta, to the court of Menélaos – he came home last, as far as I know. Should they give you hope, that your father is still alive, hang in there for another year. Should you hear, that he's dead, make a burial mount for him, with many gifts, as is appropriate. Then eliminate all those insolent suitors. Haven't you heard of how Orestes gained glory by slaying the murderer of his father Agamemnon? You're no longer a child, you're a grown handsome man. Hesitate not. Defend your honour, so that future generations may speak well of you. But I must leave now – surely my crew is getting impatient down at the harbour!”

Telemakhos smiled warmly (that was his mother's smile): “Thank you for your advice, kind old man. But won't you stay just a little longer? You're my guest, how could I possibly let you go without a gift? A precious and pretty one-”

“I'm afraid I really have no time”, she chuckled, “But I will come back and till then chose a really beautiful guest gift! It will be returned with one of equal worth.”

Then she turned into a small owl and flew out of the window, leaving behind a stunned Telemakhos.

.

Meanwhile Hermes had made his way to Ogygia, the island of Kalypso.

The nymph welcomed him and served him nectar and ambrosia and wanted to know, what he was here for.

Hermes, now refreshed, briefed her on the situation: “The King of the Gods has sent me to let you know his will. We happen to know, that you're keeping a poor man, who has been away from home for twenty years. Ten years he spent in the land of the Trojans, three lost at sea and seven years he has been languishing here, pining for home. This is the will of His Majesty: for this mortal to finally get home to his family, to reclaim his home and embrace his wife and son again. That is his lot, not to vegetate here, far away from his loved ones.”

Kalypso blanched and her eyes filled with tears.

“This … this is not fair! Why won't the gods allow, that a goddess may be happy with a mortal? Êôs loved Orion, only for him to die by the hands of golden-throned Artemis! Demeter loved Iasion, only for him to be hit by the Thunderer's lightning bolts! I saved this man, hosted and fed him, offered him immortality, so he would never grow old and die-”

“Êôs and Demeter were loved back”, Hermes countered, “Odysseus isn't happy with you. We see this man weeping on the strand day after da. Not every mortal wants immortality, Kalypso. Immortality is no blessing for a mortal, even though a lot of people think that. Odysseus needs his family and they need him. Let him go. Don't risk the anger of the King of the Gods.”

The nymph choked back a sob, but nodded.

.

Poseidon was returning from a party in Ethiopia, when he spotted something he did not like: his nemesi- er, the mortal he hated, merrily rowing on the surface of his sea on a raft with provisions.

Within seconds he put two and two together: the other gods must have decided for Odysseus to be allowed to go home, while he had been away.

“Well, I'm not letting him off easy”, Poseidon grumbled and unleashed a mighty storm, house-high waves, deadly currents and all.

.

Odysseus clung to his raft, as it was thrown back and forth by the waves and realised, that he was likely going to drown.

“Aw, shit!”, he muttered and held on tighter, because there was no way he would accept a death as inglorious as drowning.

But as he was clinging to his wooden raft, he soon saw the foam on one of the waves shift into the shape of a woman.

That was Leukothea, formerly Ino, the daughter of Kadmos and Harmonia and aunt of Dionysos, who had been deified by Poseidon, many centuries ago.

She pitied the struggling mortal thrown around by the raging sea.

“Poor man” she spoke, “What have you done to provoke the merciless wrath of Poseidon, that he wants to drown you so badly? But fear not, I'm here to help you. Listen: take off your clothes and everything that drags you down, then tie my scarf around your chest – it will save you from drowning. Once you have reached dry land, give it back to me.”

She handed him a silken scarf and dived back into the waves.

Odysseus frowned. Why would I need this, when I have a raft?

Right in that moment, said raft was torn apart by a particularly huge wave.

Never mind.

He did as the marine goddess had told him and took to swimming.

In the meantime Poseidon retired to his crystal palace on the bottom of the sea.

Odysseus spent the next two days fighting against the raging sea, trying to finally reach the shore.

All the while, Athena was with him, never once taking her protection away.

She stilled the winds and gave him the strength to swim long enough to reach the shore of the land of the Phaiakoi.

The long-suffering hero finally found a piece of strand, crawled onto the shore and fainted.

When he came to himself, he took off the anti-drowning-scarf and threw it back into the sea, back to its owner.

Then he turned his back onto the water, stumbled further inland and crawled under a bush.

Exhausted, hurting everywhere and too tired to do anything, he fell into a healing, restful slumber.

.

Athena meanwhile entered the sleep of Nausikaa, the princess of this land, disguised as one of her friends. She inspired her to go out in the morning to do her laundry with her maids and maybe play at ball and Nausikaa woke up, resolved to do just that.

.

Odysseus woke up to women's screaming.

He crawled out from under this bush, covered his private parts with a leafy branch and went to investigate.

Soon he came across a group of ladies, apparently looking for something.

When they saw him, they screamed and fled, all except for one.

She didn't seem to be afraid at all.

And perhaps she could help him.

So the former hero cleared his throat and with many a flattery asked her for help.

The lady introduced herself as princess Nausikaa of the Phaiakoi and gave him some of her father's clothes she and her maids had been washing earlier.

Once washed and finally dressed, he could feel a divine presence cast a spell on him.

When he stepped back in front of Nausikaa, he guessed that Athena had made him look younger and more stately than he actually was, because the princess proclaimed her hope to have a bridegroom as regal and handsome as himself.

Then she pointed him a way to the city, while she left for some place else.

One of her maids guided him and instructed him on how he should come to the king and queen to plead for hospitality.

He did as told and they received him kindly.

.

Next morning, king Alkinoos called an assembly of the local nobility, introduced them to this stranger and informed him of his request.

They marvelled at the newcomer, whom Athena had given godlike beauty, so that he would find approval and be liked by the people here.

“This stranger – I don't know who he is – has been stranded here and beseeches me for help to return to his homeland”, Alkinoos explained. “No supplicant has ever asked us in vain for safe transport. So let's ready a ship and rowers and let him go where he wishes to, as soon as possible. But first we should host him according to the laws of hospitality. Let a great feast be prepared and summon our best musician.”

This was done and not much later, the entire nobility was gathered in his hall to feast.

Demodokon, the blind singer, entertained them with his beautiful music and sung of the glory of the Achaeans in the Trojan War.

The musical reminder of the events made Odysseus upset and he pulled the cloak he was wearing over his face, so no one saw him cry.

.

Next was a small tournament.

The young Phaiakoi competed in all kinds of sports.

Odysseus was feeling too gloomy to participate in discus throwing, but when one of the young men provoked him and questioned his masculinity, he got so angry that he grabbed the biggest, heaviest discus at hand and threw it much farther than all the others.

“As you can see”, he turned to the stunned Phaiakoi, “I'm more than adept in the art of war and battle. If any of you wants to challenge me in another discipline, I'm more than confident, that I can best them. Except when it comes to running, as my leg muscles are out of shape.”

Alkinoos quickly pacified his guest and called to music and dance.

Odysseus marvelled at the dancing skills of the Phaiakoi, at the gracefulness of their movements and how their feet practically flew across the dance floor.

The singer Demodokon sang about the love of Ares and Aphrodite and of how her then husband Hephaistos had caught them in his golden net.

A pair of dancers performed a rhythmic ball play and everyone clapped along to the beat.

Odysseus turned to Alkinoos: “You praised your people as the best of dancers and it's really true! The sight astonishes me.”

That pleased the king and he ordered for rich guest presents to be given to the flatterer.

The man, who had provoked Odysseus earlier, gave him a reconciliatory gift (an iron sword² with a silver handle and ivory sheath) and an apology, which the older man gladly accepted and wished him, that he would never regret having given his sword away.

Evening came and after a nice bath Odysseus went to join another banquet, which was about to take place.

On the way he met Nausikaa and they bid each other farewell, as only men were allowed at the Symposion.³

As all men sat down to eat, Odysseus cut off a good piece of his meat and offered it to the grateful singer as a token of appreciation.

Demodokon continued his earlier song about the heroic deeds of the Achaeans in the Trojan War. Odysseus requested: “You sing so beautifully and accurately of those events! But now sing of the wooden horse! Sing of the thing that Epeios built with Athena's aid and which was brought to Troy, filled by Odysseus with warriors to raze Troy to the ground! If you can do that, I would be forever grateful!”

The singer did so and everyone was captivated.

But the memory made the war veteran weep bitterly.

When Alkinoos saw this, he ordered Demodokon to stop and asked Odysseus what the matter was.

“Also”, he added, “I still don't know who you are. What's your name, your family and the name of your home? Were you there in Troas or did you lose someone dear to you in this terrible war? A family member, a comrade or a friend?”

The other man wiped his tears away and stood up.

“I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, who beguiles men with cunning and beautiful words, whose fame reaches to the skies. I come from the bountiful island of Ithaka and I couldn't possibly think of a sweeter sight than my own home.”

The whole room was silent, as everyone stared at him.

.

---

.

1) Soteira: "Saviour", an epithet to many goddesses. In this case a euphemistic epithet of Persephone. 2) The Trojan War is supposed to have taken place in about the 13th or 12th century BC, which was still in the bronze age. So an iron weapon was something special. Iron was hard to forge, because it requires a higher temperature than copper and tin (the components of bronze), but it's also tougher than bronze. Therefore it was in high demand and it would stay that way, during the iron age and beyond. But because it was harder to work with and for other reasons, it was a lot more expensive than bronze. 3) The Symposion (a banquet with music, dance and philosophical discussions) was for men only. Ancient Greek misogyny, everyone. -_-

#Greek Mythology #odyssey #zeus #athena #telemakhos #hermes #kalypso #poseidon #leukothea #odysseus #nausikaa #alkinoo

[altissiavibritannia]

Moolouch Xmas Special

This is a separate chapter from the official fanfic of my Moolouch fanfic. I decided to add some of my Moolouch fic on here, so here’s something that is Xmasy. I know Xmas was yesterday, but I was spending time with my mema at that time being. So here’s my late Xmas gift to y’all. Lelouch is a cowboy throughout Moolouch and Gaara is his old friend that he barely remembers. This is a Gaara x Suzaku x Lelouch moment.

“Morning Lelouch, want to help me make fresh eggnog?” he asked softly in his ear.

The black haired cowboy yawned and mooed in agreement. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stretched. Fixing his hair and fur, before polishing his black horns. Suzaku smiled as he left to go wake up the person responsible for Lelouch’s transformation.

Long purple lush hair flowed down to the floor. He looked like a male version of Rupunzel. Suzaku walked up to his bedside to tap his shoulder.

“What do you want?” he grumbled, still asleep.

“Just wake up Gaara...it’s Xmas morning. Besides we’ll be packed with guests for the Xmas party.” Suzaku sighed.

He opened his ruby red eyes and just glared at him. The White Knight just glared right back. Sighing in defeat as he did know that it was his turn to host the party. He started living here with them for half a year now and barely did his part. He usually was too busy keeping Geass Farms up and running.

“Fine...as host of the Xmas Party, I’ll get outfits ready first...I’m almost done with them.” Gaara groaned.

“That’s the spirit. Me and Lelouch will be making the eggnog while we wait. Rolo has the cooking taken care of, he and Lelouch prepared it last night...well most of it.” Suzaku chirped with a blush on his cheeks.

“For his boyfriend and farmer, you tend to be even more lovey dovey than normal. Has my geass power gotten to you?” Gaara scuffedly asked.

“Well I guess all geass power isn’t that bad...still this is his punishment for all that he’s done after all~!” Suzaku singsonged.

“What about me?! Why am I a English Lop?! Who’s idea was this?!” Rolo complained, tripping over an ear.

Crashing sounds could be heard from the kitchen. Rolo was turned into a English Lop bunniboi half a month ago and he was still half asleep when Gaara used his geass on him. The mastermind behind that was Nunnally.

Pots and pans clanged against each other as they fell to the floor. Rolo was making such a big mess in the kitchen. Making Suzaku think. Was wasn’t he turned into a half animal like the rest? It didn’t make sense. Him, C.C., Gaara’s workers and Gaara himself wasn’t turned. Yet Geass wasn’t effective on C.C., but did some did? 

C.C. did after all keeps her distance away from Gaara as possible. Yet somehow Lelouch was able to give Gaara and a few others geass without forming contracts or having Code in general. Unless his geass got that powerful enough to allow him to do it.

“Here Rolo, let me help.” Lelouch offered, his Xmas themed cowbell rang.

“Thanks Big Brother, but what about your pectorals? Aren’t you full?” he asked, picking up a dirty frying pan.

“Yeah, well I’ve been through much worse. I may be full of milk like how I am every morning and evening, but I can handle the pain for a bit longer. Right now Suzaku is waking up Gaara.” Lelouch chuckled.

Gaara got out of bed as Suzaku walked to the kitchen to help. He had a lot of brushing to do. His hair was getting longer as time flies by, he then saw the male student outfit in his basket. Furrowing a brow as he held up the shirt. Frowning as he dropped it back into the basket, he put on his usual outfit. Gaara’s fashion looked like he jumped out of a pop singer poster.

Well he is a pop singer, but he quit his boy band once they used him for his geass. He removed their half animal traits once he found out why they wanted him as their lead singer. They wanted to be popular on looks alone and not anything else. Gaara was a great singer, but got driven into madness once he lost his best friend Lelouch when he was sent here. 

He’s been turning others into animals with his geass power ever since he’s received it when Lelouch used his on him to be a distraction to keep Suzaku at bay. That was how Haunted Badboyz transformed into Aniboyz. Aniboyz vanished once the band broke up. Now he’s in charge of Geass Farms. He turned the rest of Aniboyz into his livestock once they begged for him to come back.

Lelouch then found out after he and Suzaku ended up as new employees of Geass Farms. He then offered to become a pop singer for his new band if he was up to it. Lelouch has always wanted to be in one ever since childhood, before his mother’s death. Gaara liked this new Lelouch that he’s made, Lelouch loved his new self too. Helps him out on relaxing, even though he ends up horny at the same time.

“Ready Lulu? Or should I say Merrymoo?” Suzaku asked in a teasing manner.

Lelouch’s cheeks flushed and his black soft cow ears lowered. His black cow tail swayed in embarrassment. He was wearing his Santa cowboy costume that Gaara made for him last month. He got it for a birthday present. The red short turtle tank top outlined in white faux fur, to the red and white faux furred short shorts. It suited him, he was even wearing the matching gloves and thigh high socks. 

His bell was festive as well. Gold and silver bells with mistletoe themed bell. He wore a Santa hat and boots to make it look like he was the Santa of bovine. His horns shone in the sunlight as the sun was still rising. They poked through the fabric of his hat, well there was holes cut into it to make room for them. Rolo blushed as he looked so cute as a cowboy, he was jealous that he’s one and not like him, a bunniboi. 

Rolo grabbed a bucket from one of the cupboard near the fridge. This is the only thing he can’t drop without tripping over his knee-length rabbit ears. He then hands it to Suzaku, who places it before Lelouch on the counter. Sighing as he then grabbed a carton of eggs and heavy cream from the fridge. He then searched through the spices for the nutmeg and cinnamon and of course, sugar. 

They looked at each other and then at Rolo. Lelouch looked down at the empty bucket and then his milk filled pecs. Suzaku noticed how down in the dumps Rolo was now. It’s always has been him who got to milk Lelouch and nobody else. Now he saw the problem, everyone that knows of their love life and new jobs at Geass Farms were interested in learning something new. Lelouch then knew what Suzaku was thinking just by looking back at him.

“Go ahead Lulu, he’s never tried it before. He deserves to learn how in case I’m too busy.” Suzaku whispered.

Lelouch’s eyes full of love and understanding as he nodded.

“No that’s brown sugar...where is it?” Rolo sighed as he fiddled around in the pantry, searching for sugar.

Lelouch bumped his hip lightly against Rolo’s hip. His bells ringing as he did so, this caught Rolo off guard. He yelped as he tripped over his ears again and then, boofpt! Flour flew everywhere, making it look like it snowed indoors. Suzaku was laughing at how cute this was to see them together. A whirring sound could be heard. It was Nunnally, she had finally woken up.

“What’s all of the racket about Suzaku?” she asked.

“Well good morning Nunna, your brothers are goofing off is all. Also Merry Xmas Nunnally, want to help me or Gaara out, while these two make the eggnog?” Suzaku smiled softly.

“Sure thing, I need something to do anyways. Oh is the eggnog made with my brother’s milk again?” she asked with a cute mew. 

“Indeed it is, it’s nice to have fresh milk on hand without bothering to go grocery shopping.” The White Knight chuckled.

Lelouch’s cheeks flushed again as he heard their conversation. Rolo’s eyes widen as he spotted Lelouch’s stomach. It wasn’t flat and smooth like always anymore. It was a bit more lumpy than normal. Lelouch placed a finger over his lips and winked. Rolo started to tear up as he knew what was happening and why he hasn’t told anyone yet. He was four months pregnant. 

Nodding as he understood now why his older adoptive brother has been acting the way he has, it was due to him being pregnant.It also explains the extra milk over the past three months. It’s an unexpected Xmas present for everyone, including Suzaku. But what would his reaction about this all might be?

Lelouch winced in pain as his pectorals filled up more with milk. His shirt was getting even more tighter by the nanosecond. Even though the fabric was meant to withstand it after his pectorals got full, it wasn’t meant for leakage or with extra filled pecs. Rolo dusts the flour off of himself and then took his hand.

Lelouch pulled him up and dusts the flour off of himself as well. Now would be a good time for some relief or else Gaara might get pissed if he ended up with Mastitis or see his seamstership ruined. It took Gaara a week to get the outfit done, he loves to sew by hand. Once they were both done dusting the flour off themselves, Lelouch leaned over the bucket.

Rolo seemed nervous, because this’ll be his first time milking his older brother. Lelouch then carefully took off his bells and top. His nipples leaked a tiny bit of breast milk from the softest touch. He’s used to this by now, he then gently grabbed his tiny hands. He placed them onto his pectorals, shivered a bit from how it felt good.

“It’ll be ok Rolo, I’m here to help through the process. J-Just be gentle...alright? Ready?” he asked.

“B-But I don’t know t-the r-” he was cutoff by Gaara taking a snapshot of them.

They both blushed as they spotted him. “G-Gaara!!” they stuttered in perfect unison.

“Sorry, but this is what Milly wants. She’s coming by for the party after all.” The Emo Vampire Of Pop shrugged, holding the camera.

“Really? Even after what happened...?” Lelouch asked his ears perked.

“Yeah, of course she forgave you, Your Majesty.” Gaara chuckled as he liked how cute the 99th Emperor of Britannia was.

Lelouch blushed again as he forgot that he’s still the Emperor of Britannia. His older brother Schneizel gave him the throne after finding out why he was Zero and why he has murdered their father and remurdered his mother. He hasn’t been arrested again or anything, but he wanted to see how well he would do as the new Emperor. He didn’t want to have the throne like the rest of his siblings, yet someone had to be Emperor or else everything would go into ruins or chaotic.

He forgot that he even invited his family over to the party. Sighing as he knew that Zero Requiem would be no more, now that he’s busy fixing Britannia and trying to gain other nations trust while help fix their cities and such that was destroyed. He wanted the Zero Requiem, but this is fine too. Also he doesn’t want his unborn children to end up going down a dark path like how he has. 

Shaking his head to clear it as he then rubbed Rolo’s hands against his pectorals. Rolo caught on and started to message them. Moaning softly as he let him message his painfully full chest. Once he was done, he had to lean over the counter again. He taught his little brother how to milk him. Nodding again as he then grabbed his nipples to relieve him of his load.

“M-Mooooooooooooooo~!” Lelouch mooed in glee.

“W-Wow this is amazing! I’ve never knew how fun this could be!” Rolo laughed.

“Sounds like Rolo’s having a blast. I wonder if he wishes to change his animal or not. Yet I do love how cute and fluffy he can be the way he is.” Suzaku softly chuckled as he eavesdrops on them, speaking to himself.

Squishy, squish, thick, thack. Lelouch was swaying his tail in glee as Rolo got the hang of it within a matter of seconds. Milking him in a good rhythm and not rushing things. His milk sploshing into the bucket as he moaned in pleasure. Blushing per usual as he loved it. Mooing and moaning as this made Rolo blush. His moos were so cute that he wanted to hear them more often.

Once the bucket was full, Lelouch grabbed another one. They then looked back at the doorway to the kitchen as they heard a knock. It was Rivalz, he had a few tins of butter cookies with him. Seems like guests were arriving earlier than expecting. He then smiled with a blush on his cheeks as the scent of Lelouch’s milk drifted under his nostrils.

“Need help?” he asked, swaying his mouse tail.

“Yeah that’ll be great. Mind separating the yolks from the whites?” Lelouch pointed to the eggs.

“Sure thing Merrymoo. Oops...I mean Your Majesty.” Rivals apologized as he bowed.

“No worries, we’re friends after all. On top of that it’s Xmas, so no need to be sooooooooooooo formal!” Lelouch mooed.

Rolo shrugged with a sheepish smile. “S-Sorry...” he apologized.

“It’s fine. Just warn me when you’re going back to milking me. Scared the crap out of me.” he chuckled.

“You two are so adorable together, even though it’s milking time for Lelouch.” Rivalz complimented.

They both blush as Rolo’s hands continued in a steady pace. Rivalz chuckled as he then placed down the cookies to start cracking some eggs and placing the yolks into a glass bowl. Lelouch and Rolo sighed in unison as they then gone back about their business. They then filled the last bucket, so it can be used for the eggnog. Lelouch then sighed in relief as he had some left over in case he needed it for something else. 

“Well I’ll be back...I need to take a shower now.” he said, putting back on his top, hat and bells.

“Yeah sure, thanks for the milk Big Brother!” Rolo chirped.

“You’re welcome, did you like the experience?” he asked, glowing.

“Yeah...it was fun. Let’s do that again someday.” Rolo smiled.

“Somebody’s jealous~!” Suzaku singsonged.

Rolo blushed as Lelouch furrowed a brow. “S-Shut up! So what if I want to swap traits with my Big Brother someday for a day or two experience!” 

Lelouch’s eyes widened as he was shocked on how he felt all this time after being turned into an English Lop bunniboi. Blushing himself as he wondered what it’s like to swap animal traits for a bit for a break, for once. Gaara’s geass was capable of turn others into anything he’d like but objects and take it away at anytime he felt like it. Yet was he able to swap looks? This made everyone grin as the idea got the best of them.

Gaara was petting the Scottish Fold Nunnally. “Thank you for helping me out. The more help, the merrier.” 

“No problem. Do you have a family Gaara??” she asked, purring.

“Used to, I’m the last one of the Ootori family. They either died from illness or died during the Black Rebellion...even my baby sister Maggie died before she could ever enter kindergarten...” Gaara sniffled.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t know...is this another reason why you turned me the way you did...?” Lelouch asked, his tail wrapped around his legs and ears drooped.

He was out of his shower and was now wearing his cowboy version of his royal outfit. His royal rope draped from his shoulders like a cape or blanket. He had a cowbell made to match his outfit. He was used to his new look. He then sat down next to him, to help out on sewing the outfits. Gaara looked away as he stopped sewing.

“No...it’s not your fault Your Moojesty...terrorists that wasn’t part of the Black Knights took the advantage of the Black Rebellion...naming themselves as Black Knights, but their attire was different and didn’t match the real ones...they murdered everyone, but me. I pretended to be dead as they were killing everyone in sight at the family reunion...”

“Oh...I’m very sorry that happened to you. Were they part of your family or people who had a grudge against your family?”

“No to them both...they were stealing jewelry and expensive items that they could get their claws on...they attacked any rich family that they came in contact with...my family just happened to be on their list...”

“I see...are they still out there? I kind of forgot that the Ootori’s were a family of knights that served our family for generations...being sent during that year that day had made me forget...”

“It’s fine...I got my revenge sooner than I thought...Someone recognized me and then found out that I survived. One day I was surrounded by them and well...that’s when you came in that Sutherland...I ducked for cover when you fired...it’s more of a I hate you, forgive you, and thank you really.”

Ruby red to violet orbs. Lelouch didn’t know that he had saved him from death while shooting random people and such while running away from Suzaku again during a mission. Before his own Knightmare Frame was shipped along side the Guren. All he remembered was that he was trying escape and tear things up again like how they first met during the beginning of the Black Rebellion. Now that it’s over and that he’s Emperor, he has nothing else to do but to fix everything that he’s done.

Tears formed in Gaara’s ruby eyes and he then tackled the Emperor and started to sob. His purple and red coyote ears flopped over and tail tucked. Lelouch smiled warmly as he hugged him and starts to pet him, comforting him. As he cried, he felt his small baby bump and furrowed a brow. Yet he didn’t care at the moment, he felt lonesome for being the last member of his family.

“Merry Furmas Everybody~!” a cheerful voice announced.

Everyone turned their attention to the voice and knew right away that it was Milly. Rivalz ran out of the kitchen with waterfalls for tears as he tried to glomp her. She sidestepped as he missed and landed right onto the Spruce tree. Some of the decor on it was messed up from him landing into it. He groaned in pain as the needled leaves of it poked him. They laughed as they knew how silly these two were together. It was Two Out Of Three Stooges. All they needed was a third to make the collection complete.Yet either Suzaku or the Emperor himself could be the third one if they felt like it.

Rolo came walking in and dragged Rivalz back into the kitchen to help him finish making the eggnog. Rivalz just let him, tears still falling as he was being dragged by the tail. Milly then wagged her husky tail when they left for the kitchen. She then bowed before Lelouch, before holding out a present that she dug out of one of the many bags that were filled with them. She was the git go girl, she wore a pink Mrs. Clause outfit with four Santa bags full of presents. She loved to shower others with affection even if it was gifts.

He waved a hand at her as he then had her place the presents under the tree for now. Gaara then stood back up when he was done crying for his loss for his dear family. He was the second tallest out of them all. Yet Gino and Jeremiah had him beat by 4 inches in height. Yet he was still tall for his age.

“Anyone else coming Milly?” he asked.

“No, Your Majesty. Just us old student council and new, aside from the old and the new Knights of the Round.” she answered.

“Milly it’s Xmas, so no need for formalities. It’s annoying half the time...” Lelouch groaned, scrunching up his nose.

“Sorry, force of habit. Yet it’s quite catchy~!” she chirped.

“Sorry if I’m late Yo-”

“Shut up! He wants a break from hearing it!” they shouted in unison.

The teal haired general held out a finger with his mouth agape, but then nodded and closed it. Sighs as he then walked over to him. He then saw the champagne in his hands wrapped with a big golden bow. He directed him to the kitchen so it can be saved for later. The two chatted about making a treaty with Area 5, since they’re on the list to give back the name and rights list. It was simply the roll of the dice to figure out which countries or Areas that are capable to have everything returned to them without having a constant war with them. 

Soon enough Kallen showed up wearing her old Black Knights uniform and was followed in by Kaname Ohgi and his wife Villetta. Villetta was about 6 months pregnant when they arrived. Lelouch invited them as well. Only a few former Black Knights were invited, so only them came. He also wanted to congratulate them for their family that they were starting. Villetta saw his baby bump and smiled. She didn’t say a word.

She knew that he wanted to tell everyone himself once the party started. Ohgi helped her into a seat before walking into the kitchen to help. Villetta gasped as she felt the baby kick again. Chuckling as she let Nunnally feel for herself. The two chatted about how things in life were going and whatnot. Nothing but girl talk. Kallen sighed as she felt left out, yet was guilty of kissing the Emperor. They didn’t know that he was gay until he kissed Suzaku on national television once crowned Emperor.

Everyone was shocked at first and was disgusted, but as life and time went on, they got used to it. Soon there were transgender, lesbians, gays, genderfluid, and every other sexuality. His love for Suzaku has changed the way the world worked. He even made laws for everybody to feel equal in both Japan (after giving their name and right back) and Britannia. Soon everybody was happy, there was no more name calling on the Japanese and no more war between the two countries.

Lelouch has changed Britannia for the better. He even fixed the laws of Britannia by removing the ones that existed generations ago. Yet not everyone wanted to change after losing power and being claimed as an Area. Some of them were very excited about the new Emperor of Britannia. They praised his name and is now on a waiting list for negotiations for a war truce and to have everything returned to them. They accept this new world that he’s offering. They even allowed Gaara to use his geass on whomever wanted to be turned into something in his image.

They wanted to have a balance of everything now that the Black Rebellion has died down and the Black Knights are nevermore. Unless if he wanted the Black Knights to be still in his services to help out. Yet Suzaku had told him to make new Knights for the greater good instead of having his Zero Requiem pull through. Since they’re lovers it was the only reasonable thing to do after all. If the Zero Requiem ever did come into effect, it’ll break Suzaku’s heart to murder yet another person that he has feelings for and not in a friendship matter.

Lelouch is the only lover he’s ever had his first kiss with and everything. Since he killed Euphemia  out of pure jealousy aside from moving his plan forward for Nunnally’s sake. Then there’s Gaara, a loyal knight without anyone to love him. Yet they don’t know that he’s been crushing on His Majesty after finding out who he was throughout the whole thing. Suzaku may be an airhead as the Knight of Zero, but he knew something was up for three whole months. Yet still doesn’t even know what his reasons are for missing a bunch of meetings with Area 5. 

They waited a bit longer for the rest of what’s left of the old student council to Ashford Academy and the new. Same thing with what’s left of the old Knights of the Round with a few new members. It took Gino and Anya to get used to Emperor Lelouch. Even though he did end up murdering his family’s parents after all. But the past is the past and yet they’re shocked on how much better of an Emperor he could really be. Gaara was a new member to bother the student council and the Knights of the Round. 

Lelouch dubbed him as the Knight of Eight a few days ago. He was also the new president of the student council, since Rivalz was taking his position for granted. Nunnally was now in high school and was announced as the vice president of the student council. Rivalz was graduating a few months from now and wasn’t going to finish off the year. He’s following Milly’s footsteps, but instead as a baker. He gotten into baking after learning from Rolo and Lelouch (before he became the 99th Emperor of Britannia).

“ Luv are you coming out or not? For my baby sister and the new 10th seat of the Round, you’re such a scaredy cat.” Gino called at the doorway.

“Ngh...” was the answer from the doorway.  

“Wait, Gino you never told us that you have a baby sister. How is she the new seat of 10?” Suzaku asked.

“I’m the one who put her in the spot. After Luciano died during the Black Rebellion, her power as a soldier has brought her as far as to that of a Knight. She’s Nunnally’s Knight, though she’s very timid.” Lelouch chuckled.

“Luv is just a nickname that I’ve given here over the years. She’s at least 3 years younger than me. Her real name is Lovisia Weinberg.” Gino explained.

“He told me everything there is to know about her. She’s been hiding in the air force of the Britannian Forces, but moved her out once the Black Rebellion started. Since then she’s been training by herself in the Homeland. She surpassed everyone in her troop. So I had Nunna pick out her Knight. Lovisia came and yet she asked me to make her into a Knight of the Round. So I did, she chose to replace Luciano’s spot. So I approved it.” Lelouch shrugged.

“Lovisia it’s ok, no need to hide now. Nobody’s going to hurt you. Isn’t it your job to protect Her Highness?” Gino asked.

Light blond hair and icy blue eyes looked through the doorway. She was an exact image of her older brother, but with lighter and thinner traits. Yet there was a Kanji on the right side of her forehead that read ‘Hate’ in pink. Suzaku furrowed a brow on why that’s there. Gino held up his hand as he knew what he was thinking. He then walked over to her and pushed her out into view. Lovisia was growling as he did so, then it all became clear. Hate as in Demon that hates everyone. She didn’t have pupils of any kind. Her eyes were outlined with thick red mascara and eye shadow. 

She looked like a pissed off Tanuki. Yet Tanuki’s masks are black, not red. Something up was going on with her appearance alone. Then again Red Panda’s had a redish brown mask, but not a scarlet red. Gino sighed as he then looked at Lelouch. Lelouch knew what he wanted, her bottle. Nodding as he pointed at the painting of Nunnally and him during the time when they were kids. He walked over to the painting and moved it out of the way. There was a safe behind it, he dialed the password. A small click and the a creaking sound came from the safe. There inside was items so valuable that they were put in it, aside from cold hard cash.

There on top of the cash was a blue glass bottle. Looked like a liquor bottle. Suzaku was baffled by the safe behind the painting and the bottle itself. But on the big glass bottle was Aztec markings in gold. He couldn’t believe his eyes as Anya closed the safe and put the painting back in place, as Gino walked over with the bottle. He the popped the cork, allowing his baby sister to use her mystical powers. To his shock and the rest of the guests there saw the liquid rise out of the bottle without anything attached.

The liquid turned out to be blood. Everyone, but the ones who know of her powers covered their noses. It smelt rotten as if it sat in there for years without being thrown out in the trash. Lovisia had this power to control blood ever since birth. She had murdered their parents after being born, leaving them as orphans. Her eyes then stared at Suzaku intensely, forcing fear into his heart. The blood then slashed at his Knight of Zero uniform. Suzaku yelped as it cut through his skin a bit. Hot blood trinkled down, but didn’t hit the floor. But floated in the air, he then screamed in pain as he felt his own body float in the air.

Lelouch looked worried, but couldn’t move. The blood whip had gotten him to, but barely.She was a Deadman, a rare being who can control their blood and someone else’s as long as their blood is mixed in. This was her Branch of Sin. The Dragon was now awoken. She was known as the Dragon Reaper. Many other nicknames could define her without her real name. Emperor Lelouch calls her Death’s Pet Dragon. Gino then quickly closed the bottle once she drained Suzaku of a bit of blood to keep the blood in her bottle fresh.

Suzaku dropped at once and was panting. “Are you out of your mind for choosing her?! I could’ve died!”

“B-But...”  “Enough Suzaku, you weren’t man enough to protect my baby sister. So Lovisia is the best we’ve got!”

“....Fine...but don’t let that monster get near me...”

“That’s my sister buster, sure she’s a Deadman, but don’t blame her for the beast that lives in her very body! She’s got more blood than the average human being! It’s due to the Blood Beast, A Dragon that sleeps inside of her!”

Gino grabbed the bleeding Suzaku up off the ground, teeth bared. Lelouch groaned in pain and tears dropped to the floor. They stopped and looked at him. Suzaku brushed Gino off of him as he hurried over, despite the pain coming from his side. He then looked down where Lelouch’s hands were guarding. He was breathing heavily as he looked up at him. Villetta gasped as she was worried too. Gaara stopped her and shook his head. Rolo heard the commotion, he too had tears in his eyes. They fear for the worst for the pregnant Emperor.

“What’s going on?! Somebody say something! What’s wrong with my boy-” Suzaku was cutoff by Lelouch placing a hand onto his cheek.

“I was about to announce this to everyone, when they were here...and now that they’re all gathered...I-I’m pregnant...with your twin boys...” he smiled sadly.

“Step aside Sir Kururugi...if I don’t fix my mistake, I can’t forgive myself...” Lovisia spoke sternly.

“No! Not what you just did to us! Get out!” he hissed.

“Let her, His Majesty might end up dying and miscarry or die with them! She doesn’t just kill with her Branch of Sin, but revive or heal!” Gino corrected him.

“I’ll be alright Suza...” Lelouch coughed as his body started to feel cold.

Hot tears spilled from his eyes as he kissed his hand, before letting Lovisia do her job. Lovisia walked over and cut her hands with the pocket knife on her thigh. She then apologize to her Emperor before slicing him in the stomach. Blood poured everywhere, but floated in the air. Lelouch’s now lifeless body floated into the air. Gino reopened the bottle for the blood in it to join. He and Anya cut themselves to help out. Suzaku sighed as he shoved his fingers into his fresh wound, screaming. Tears still dropping from his cheeks from the pain in his heart. He didn’t want to lose another love of his life, not ever again.

Trusting a total stranger with a Branch of Sin that is rarely born into the world.Yet if she could save him and the future heirs to the Britannian Throne, then he had no choice, but to trust Gino’s words. Gaara smiled as he joined in on the action. Once there was enough blood in the air, Lovisia’s eyes glowed. Soon her body ripped into ribbons, allowing the dragon inside to escape her body. The dragon was scarlet red like the makeup around Lovisia’s eyes, but had blue and golden patterns of Aztec markings along her body.

The dragon’s icy blue eyes looked at Lelouch’s freshly dead body along with the twins inside of him still. A mighty roar of sorrow and anger as she started to tear up herself. She was sorry for hurting a friend of her host. Soon the blood in the air formed the shape of a Peony flower. Suzaku was amazed on what this dragon can do, soon the flower glowed and then got shoved into Lelouch’s body at once! The blood from the people willing to help heal and revive the Emperor of Britannia alongside his unborn twins, has been cleansed and made to his blood type.

Once the glowing stopped, the dragon was gone. Lovisia was now lying in Gino’s arms. The bottle of blood was empty and laid on it’s side on the floor. Suzaku rushed over, his wound healed. He caught Lelouch’s unconscious body. He winced from being a bit weak. To everyone’s shock who didn’t part take in the blood to blood ritual with Lovisia, they saw a miracle happen. Lelouch’s stomach was now a lot bigger than what it was supposed to be. The dragon’s magic had made him close to labor than restoring him back to normal.

Suzaku blinked as he then yelped as he fell towards the ground. Rolo gasped as he then activated his geass, saving the both of them. Once five minutes was up, Lelouch was standing up and awake. Blinking as he felt the sudden weight in his stomach. Blushing on how fast the twins had grown in so little time, as if he was carrying unborn vampires. He then gave Lovisia a look as he then figured out what the cause behind it was from. He then grunts in pain again, Lovisia smiled in her sleep. She didn’t only speed up the development, but the deadline for the twins.

“Welp, His Majesty is in labor...” Jeremiah chuckled nervously.

“What did she do to me?! They weren’t due until somewhere in June!Argh!!!” Lelouch screamed in pain.

His water has broke, now that Lovisia has done her magic with her Branch of Sin. Suzaku laughed as he was starting to like Lovisia. Her and Lelouch planned this ahead of time, for their Xmas present to him. Sure he had planned the Zero Requiem with him, but changed once he got pregnant by him. So all in all that plan got out the window. It was now time for this new plan to take action. Zero’s Heirs is now the name of the plan. He carried his now Emperor in labor to his slumber chambers. Everyone went back to the party. Nunnally smiled as they didn’t need the Zero Requiem to begin with. Spilling a shit load of blood once again wouldn’t change the world, but make it worse.

Gaara then started to carve the ham and turkey in Suzaku’s place once the time for dinner rolled by. They enjoyed the feast as Suzaku and Sayako were helping Lelouch bring two new lives into the world. Rolo was happy to have two nephews into his life. He even got used to being Nunnally’s newest older brother when they met during the Black Rebellion. Everyone stopped partying once they saw Sayako walk in with a big smile on her face. The birth of two new princes was a success. Everyone was allowed to visit the new parents. 

“So...what do you think of my Xmas present to you dear?” he asked.

“It’s wonder, I love them!” The White Knight sniffled as tears dripped down once more, this time with joy.

“So what are you going to new the new princes?” Gaara asked.

Lelouch smiled and looked down at his two breastfeeding children and then back at them and the father. Suzaku then changed his expression on the spot. Since nobody, but a few knew about his secret pregnancy, he had no idea. Yet he ended up crying like a baffling idiot like always. He shrugged as he then looked back at Lelouch. Maybe he had an idea what to name their two newborn sons. They did both had a bit of brown in their luscious black locks. The one with more black in his hair was the oldest out of the two. Suzaku’s rabbit tail wagged, yet his antlers kind of shed off when he was being “attacked” by Lovisia.

Even though that was the distracting of their plan to shock Suzaku. Gaara was a part of it too. He then winked at them as he then popped the cork to the champagne bottle. The cork landed perfectly into a bowl in the kitchen. He then started pouring glasses for everyone who wanted to try it. Sure some of them were still minors, but he gave them juice or pop instead. Suzaku thanked them all and for Lelouch’s best Xmas gift ever.

“Since daddy doesn’t have names for them, I guess we’ll name the oldest; Maleficent. And the youngest either Lelouch Jr., Suzaku the Second, or possibly Shiba. What do you think?” Lelouch asked.

“Maleficent and Shiba sounds wonderful. We can name the next batch after us if you don’t mind.” Suzaku chuckled.

“To the birth of our newly born Prince Maleficent and Prince Shiba!” Jeremiah cheered.

“To the new royals of the New Britannia!” they all cheered.

“Well we need birth certificates for them though.” Suzaku whispered.

“I already got you covered. Maleficent Nyx Kururugi Britannia and Shiba Love Kururugi Britannia.” Sayako chuckled as she held out the certificates.

Suzaku blinked as he then saw the handwriting and then smiled. Seems like his Emperor had them covered all this time. He then felt Lelouch gently tap him on the shoulder. He asked Sayako to hand him his son Shiba. He looked down at Shiba with a smile, he looked into his purple and green orbs.

“Welcome to the world my wittle baby Shiba. Daddy loves you very much~!” he whispered before kissing his messy brown and black locks.

Shiba sneezed and then cooed.

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwe~!” everyone said in unison.

“Let’s open up some presents! Plus...maybe have an unexpected baby shower for me, even though I’m not pregnant anymore!” Lelouch ordered with a giggle as he burps Maleficent.

“Does this still count?” he asked in secret to Villetta.

She nods as she congratulates him again. They then brought the party near their bedroom. Once they ate until stuffed, presents opened. Lelouch yawned. He was exhausted from this fast forwarded pregnancy and from very early child birth. Suzaku chuckled and smiled. He then kissed Gaara straight on the lips, catching him off guard. Gaara blushed as he then kissed him back and then they both kissed Lelouch on the forehead. Gaara took Maleficent from Lelouch, so he can rest. Everyone then went to their guestrooms in the palace. Nobody was driving home tonight from partying too hard. Suzaku followed Gaara and Sayako to the baby room that they’ve made ahead of time.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Shiba fussed.

“Shhhhhh! Daddy’s here, so is Papa Gaara!” Suzaku cried out, rocking Shiba gently.

Maleficent was fussing too, but Gaara held a mirror to use his geass on himself again to swap his animal traits.

“I got them Suzaku. Just rest with Lulu. Also thanks for accepting me in this family.” Gaara smiled as he was now a cowboy like Lelouch and breastfed Maleficent again.

“You’re welcome, but how can you do it?” he asked.

The Animal Spirit Geass user looked at him with his left eye now engraved by his geass. His geass was now as powerful as Lelouch’s. His sky blue eyes with the upside-down geass marked eyes was filled with happiness. He then put back on his ruby eye contacts. He then burped Maleficent and changed his diaper. He then cleaned his hands before changing back into his usual coyote look. Holding Suzaku’s son again as he rocked him gently.

“Well you see...I’ve maxed out my geass while living here with you. I can swap traits with myself and others if I desire to, but every time I use my geass, I end up with a small headache. Plus Shiba needs his first diaper change.” he explained.

“Dang...” Suzaku sighed as he sniffed Shiba’s butt and then coughs.

“Dang boy, already?!” he exclaimed as he changed his poopy diaper.

“Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, Blood is spilling from your brain, Zombies gnaw you like a plumb, Piercing Cries and you will succumb, Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, You will never breathe again.” Gaara sang to Maleficent.

Maleficent giggled and sucked on his big toe.

“Why are you singing songs about death to him for?! What if it gets to his head once he grows up?! We don’t need another Zero!” Suzaku protested as he tries his best to avoid Shiba’s whiz. 

“Don’t worry he won’t end up like his mother. Besides his name just screams vampire to me. Suffer, Suffer, Scream in Pain, Shove your enemies guts down the drain, Werewolves howl like a bunch of cawing ravens, Ghouls gather around you like a sick haven, Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, You will never see the light of day again.”

“Wow...gee hopefully it doesn’t give them nightmares.” 

“They won’t, this is a lullaby that my mother used to sing to me.”

“Really? Please sing, they seem to like it.” he picked up the now clean Shiba off of the changing table, throwing the dirty diapers into the coffin shaped trashcan.

“Every well...Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, Witches will have your body burned by flame, Mummies beetles swarm and squirm, Imps will have you squashed by the feet of a pachyderm, Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, You will never move again.”

“Wait...why is this nothing but a song about death? Is it them that’s dying or other people or is it both?”

“Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, Your heart can’t take the strain, Lamias will constrict you into dust, Sirens caw until their lungs bust, Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, You will never hear again.”

“Hello?! Answer me! Why is this song about nothing but...death...?” Suzaku yawned himself, putting Shiba into the crib.

“Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, You won’t remember your name, Tombstones of grey, Yet here you lay, Suffer, Suffer, Scream in pain, You can never go insane.”  Gaara finished as he puts Maleficent next to Shiba.

He then smiles as he lifts the sleeping Suzaku off of the floor and carries him to their room. Hopping in bed next to him as he then kisses him and Lelouch on the forehead. ‘Goodnight my dears.’ he thought, before falling asleep himself.  

      A/N: I don’t own Hotel Transylvanian or the song Suffer, Suffer, Scream in Pain for the movie. But I do own this version of the song, since I figured it needed more added to it, so I did it for them. I also don’t own Deadman Wonderland, I just decided to add some reference from the anime/manga to make Lovisia Weinberg my oc little sister for Gino. I hope you like my two day late Snoggletog gift to y’all. Merry Two Day Late Snoggletog! Yes I’m a HTTYD fan, so what?! But anyways I hope you liked it as much as I have writing it! I might write more in the future for Code Geass! I’ll also be working on these ocs and the au for this fandom! So Maleficent and Shiba designs and such will be uploaded later on in the near future!  

#code geass #code geas r2 #code geass lelouch of the rebellion #xmas2019 #fanfic #snoggletog #late gift #suzaku kururugi #lelouch vi britannia #lelouch x suzaku #lelouch x oc #canon x oc #mpreg #male pregnancy #cowboy #bunniboi #geass #side chapter #suzalulu #Moolouch #Suzalope #rolo lamperouge #nunnally vi britannia #emperor lelouch #gino weinberg #anya alstreim #milly ashford #rivalz cardemonde #jeremiah gottwald #villetta

[ninjagoat]

Right, okay, so I've been talking about Boris a bit recently and how much he sucks. Fine. Easy to understand. I've not talked much about the Labour Party.

Obviously, it's been a big day today, climate strike and all. Given it's basically the biggest issue facing everyone everywhere right now, smart, dedicated people might want to let it have the news all to itself

Well, Her Majesty's Opposition have decided to start having a civil war. Again. Today. About two hours ago.

We are not only EXTREMELY back on our bullshit, we may have entered some kind of recursive bullshit phase hitherto unknown to bovine excrement research.

[dotshiiki]

I am a horrible tumblr-er and totally forgot my tumblr existed. x_x

But yes. The last one has started. Chapters 1 and 2 up!

Excerpt:

The peach tree was just twenty yards away. Fifteen yards ... ten ... five ...

Two feet from the tree, I forced my complaining legs to launch me upwards.

There was a sharp whoosh of feline claws raking the air inches below me. My hands closed around the tree branch. I swung my legs upwards, curling away from the pouncing lioness.

Divested of his load, Remy put on a burst of speed. The lions charged after him. I clung to the branch, breathing hard. Hopefully, I'd bought myself some time before the lions realised Remy and I had separated. Once they did, they'd probably leave him alone and come in search of me. I was maybe five or six miles from the camp borders. All I had to do was—

CRACK.

The thin branch I was clutching snapped. With a yelp, I fell through the air ...

... and landed in an unexpectedly soft but unquestionably smelly pile of manure.

'Di immortales!' The heap of cow dung had materialised out of nowhere. Maybe I should have been grateful that it had broken my fall, but I knew where it had come from: her bovine majesty, Queen Hera and her invisible, heavenly cows. And she most certainly did not intend to be helpful. Ever since I'd rejected her interference in my quest last summer, Hera had sent me little 'gifts' all year. My first day of high school had been a riot when I'd shown up splattered with cow droppings. I'd since gotten better at watching where I stepped, but when you start the year as 'Dung Diva', that rep tends to stick.

#the final sacrifice #daughter of wisdom #percy jackson fanfic #annabeth chase #percy jackson #silena beauregard #charles beckendorf #i'm sorry i totally forgot to post the link here

[biofunmy]

A Forgotten Pioneer’s Art World Is Resurrected at the Jewish Museum

It’s not a good sign when you step into an art exhibition and immediately begin to reinstall it in your head. But don’t hold that against “Edith Halpert and the Rise of American Art,” a crowded, enthralling exhibition at the Jewish Museum with a fascinating back story that is rarely told on this scale. It recounts the life of a long-running influential art gallery and, by extension, of the person who willed it into existence.

That person, Edith Gregor Halpert (1900-1970), was a formidable, feisty and sometimes manipulative self-starter with an ecumenical eye, a passion for art and an inborn instinct for sales and promotion. Halpert was central to establishing the market for between-the-wars American art and thought that everyone should own art. She liked to keep prices low, would sell on the installment plan and staged annual holiday sales. She also thought that anyone could make art, an idea that was crucial to the folk art revival of the 1930s. For her time, she was unusually open to artists of color and, to some extent, women. (In the 1950s, she took on a group of mostly abstract painters, all men — as confirmed in a Life magazine photograph — but few remembered.)

Born in Odessa, Russia (now Ukraine), in 1900, Halpert came to New York with her mother and sister in 1905. Her father, a grain merchant, had died of tuberculosis the previous year, and the pogroms that followed the 1905 Russian Revolution threatened. While still a teenager she pursued her dream of being an artist, studying at 14 (she pretended to be 16) at the National Academy of Design, and then the Art Students League. She haunted the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the city’s few art galleries, and frequented any artists’ club or gathering she could find.

Also starting in her teens, the energetic Halpert worked to support her family and gain her independence, first in New York department stores and then as a successful efficiency expert in a bank. By 25, she was one of two female business executives in the city and quite well-off.

In 1926, realizing that neither she nor her husband, the painter Samuel Halpert — whom she married at 18 — would ever become great artists, Halpert decided to seek them out instead. (Her disappointment hastened the pair’s divorce.) She became the first woman in New York to open a commercial art gallery, in a townhouse at 113 West 13th Street (still standing), purchased with saved bonuses. Called Our Gallery for a year, and then renamed the Downtown Gallery, the enterprise endured for over 40 years. Although she relocated uptown 14 years later, Halpert initially wanted to be where most of New York’s artists lived and worked.

From the early 1930s to the mid ’50s, she was arguably New York’s most powerful dealer of contemporary art. She mostly lived above the store and cultivated collectors and museum professionals across the nation — often traveling her exhibitions to university galleries. In the early years she kept her gallery afloat with extensive sales of folk art to her chief client, Abby Aldrich Rockefeller (wife of John D. Rockefeller Jr.) who in 1929 helped to found the Museum of Modern Art.

Of the 90 paintings and sculptures in this show, nearly all were exhibited or sold by Halpert’s gallery, or were in her private collection. One of the first artists she showed, to the outrage of her neighbors, was the jazz-loving proto-Pop abstract painter Stuart Davis, whose seven works look especially great here. She sold nothing of his, but it was the beginning of a rocky relationship that produced nine solo shows until 1964, two years before Davis’s death.

In 1932, with Ben Shahn’s second solo (of 11) at the gallery, she debuted his Social Realist masterpiece, “The Passion of Sacco and Vanzetti,” based on the infamous trial of Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti, which attracted lots of negative publicity — and hence visitors. (Halpert extended the show and did quite well on sales.) Another long-running relationship was with Yasuo Kuniyoshi, the Japanese-born American artist who elevated naturalist painting to a dreamy visual poetry, as in the exhibition “Little Joe With Cow,” with its great bovine wreathed in wispy plant life.

With her friend Alain Locke, the writer and theorist of black culture, Halpert organized “Negro Art in America,” a survey of 41 artists that was the first such exhibition in a New York gallery. It was preceded by her show of Jacob Lawrence, which unveiled his heroic “Migration” series; Halpert orchestrated the joint acquisition of its 60 gouaches by the Museum of Modern Art and the Phillips Collection in Washington and the Museum of Modern Art. Lawrence is represented here by four works from his less familiar, less anguished “The Harlem Series” of 1943.

The catalog explains how Halpert badgered other dealers to collaborate with her. She wrested Kuniyoshi away from Charles Daniels and urged Alfred Stieglitz, the godfather of early American modernism, to share. But she had to wait until Stieglitz’s death in 1946 to exhibit Arthur Dove, and finally, briefly, Georgia O’Keeffe, who created two of the show’s strongest works: her “Poppies” (1950), with its flowing petals and richly colored stamen, and his “Snowstorm” (1935), whose ambiguous forms include a wind-battered row of trees that can morph into an angry, seven-legged feline.

From the past, Halpert resurrected the Quaker “primitive” Edward Hicks, represented here by an especially impressive, uncluttered “Peaceable Kingdom, ” and the American trompe l’oeil artists William Michael Hartnett and John Frederick Peto.

Peto’s “Lincoln and the Star of David” is in the last, best gallery of the show. Devoted to Halpert’s own collection, it is a touching affirmation that, business aside, she really did love art. Also here is a painted ceramic portrait head of Halpert from 1959 by the sculptor William King, one of the last artists she discovered. It is absolutely irresistible and should have been in the first gallery, luring visitors in. It pays tribute to Halpert’s sometimes overly possessive love of her artists and the love many of them felt, intermittently, in return.

Why is Halpert almost completely forgotten today? Her gallery — dominated by figurative art — was obscured by the advent of Abstract Expressionism and its dealers in the ’50s. That she was a woman, an immigrant and a Jew may have contributed to her disappearance.

But art galleries are by definition fluid and ephemeral: self-created worlds characterized by changing shows and changing addresses. Most are built to vanish. Their main job is to help artists survive, which is accomplished by dispersing, i.e., selling the things they make. Reassembling those artworks can be a tall order.

And here that order has been met with considerable success by Rebecca Shaykin, an associate curator who has also written a smart, readable catalog that builds on Lindsay Pollock’s extensively researched Halpert biography of 2006. The catalog has the advantage of lavish illustrations that make you see that the show could have been even better where several artists are concerned. But what Ms. Shaykin has accomplished is amazing.

My biggest complaint concerns the elimination of Halpert’s middle name — her adopted maiden name — from the show’s and catalog’s title. To me, she will always be Edith Gregor Halpert, which is prolonged and stately.

Edith Gregor Halpert. It has all the majesty of an ocean liner sailing into New York Harbor.

Edith Halpert and the Rise of American Art

Through Feb. 9 at the Jewish Museum, 1109 Fifth Avenue, Manhattan; 212-423-3200

thejewishmuseum.org.

Sahred From Source link Arts

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#IFTTT #WordPress

[sylkhi]

Did I already talk about this? Ummm, idk, I don't remember, BUT:

So Hera/Juno is the god most distant from mortals and demigods, right? (She has no human relationships, she has no demigod children, being sort of in charge of Camp Jupiter's affairs doesn't count).

But, Hera DOES raise Leo (yes, Maria Valdez was a live at the time, but that's just how being a nanny/tia works; you start playing a parental/guardian role in a child's life).

She isn't the best (she really doesn't have much experience raising anyone) and she does a lot of questionable things to "mold a hero" (and does in a way that feels almost cruel)

And while it's true Hera won't be winning any prizes for her work, I will say that Leo/Hera is the closest thing Her Bovine Majesty has had to a demigod/parent relationship.

What I'm getting at is that Leo is the only demigod Hera might share some form of emotional bond with, and that though they might have a sort of antagonising relationship, they DO have a MASSIVE soft-spot for each other (Hera likely stopped Zeus from just killing Leo again directly or indirectly when he came back to life. Remember how much of a punishing mood he was in?)

Anyway, I'm just Head-Canoning mother!Hera and Son!Leo with a tsundere type of vibe and it makes me ✨warm✨

Anyway, this... this might be the start of me writing a short fluffy crack-piece if people want it, so... yeah. Talk to me.

#leo valdez #heroes of olympus #hera #juno #tia callida #her bovine majesty #head-canon central guys #I'm really manifesting a relationship i might consider writing a nonsense fluff-fic for #there might be a fic #no promises #but there might be

[bunnyqueenjeanne]

Red Rider and the Tyranny of the Seven Wolves - Part 2 Chapter ??? Draft

I did this as part of an idea of writing setpieces and then doing the rest of the story around them, this one in particular is the beginning of the one for the early part of Part 2 of my story. It’s went through exactly zero editing but here it is!

Francine stepped out of the changing room, her black and white dress' glittering diamonds in the fire of the shop dazzling the onlooking Clover. “Oh, Miss Francine, you're so elegant looking!” Francine gave a small smile at the compliment. “Do you have anything special to wear, Clover?” She asked. Clover shook their head and replied, “Yep, wearing it now!” They motioned to their rather regular looking robe. “My nicest robe, I call it my professor's robe!” Francine smiled and covered her mouth. “What pseudonym were you using again?” Clover smiled and put their hands on their hips, puffing out their chest. “Professor Franklin!” They proudly boomed. “He was a very important professor at the library!” Francine tilted her head slightly, her smile fading a little. “Do you think that name would be on the guest list?” Clover's smile only grew larger. “Scientists need no guest list!”

“I am going to freaking kill you!” A voice screaming from the other changing room. “You're gonna have to help me, I don't even know how to get this tight whatchamacallit on!” Francine yelled back, barely containing laughter, “It's called a corset, and that would be very inappropriate!” Ophelia yelled back, “Ain't nothin' you haven't seen!” Francine hid her face in her hands. Clover's attention slowly drifted toward her, and as they were about to speak up Ophelia exploded out of the changing room. The dress suited Ophelia's large figure, being puffed out with plenty of frills and lace. It was a mixture of pink and purple hues, with gold buttons adorning the middle. “Just one more thing,” Francine said as she placed a white sun hat with plenty of flowers on the sheep's head. Between Ophelia's constant droning of 'I hate you' Clover adorned their own large, brown, wide-rimmed hat that they had been saving just for a special occasion. “Very scientific,” they whispered to themselves.

Crickets sang at the beginning of the night hours later, the time for the ball had arrived and Francine made her way to the front doors of the large, elegant mansion with her companions in tow. “Name?” The large bovine of a doorman stared at the frowning crowd. “D'oeuvre, and this is my plus one.” The doorman stared at the list intently. “Ah, yes, here you are, and uh...” He looked down at the sheep's large, black boots. “Is that really proper attire for this event, m'am?” Ophelia stared him in the eye for a moment before stomping down on his foot, causing him to yelp and kneel down to tend to it. Clover whipped by with the other two while he was down. “I told you to change those shoes!” Francine whispered harshly. “I will put on this stupid, fancy dress but you can pry these boots off my cold, dead feet.” The ball room was expansive, arches on either side of a larger center with a large stage at the other end. Light conversation echoed across the hall, carried by acoustics and interspersed with the crackling of the large fireplace. The two made their way up to the snack table, which was decorated with all manner of both dragon meat and vegetables. “Oh man, I am starving!” Ophelia began digging in to a salad bowl, holding it in one hand and using the serving spoon to stuff it into her mouth. “Ophelia, you really shouldn't eat that like that,” Francine sighed. “You remember the mission, right?” Ophelia waved the spoon at Francine dismissively. “Of course, of course, look around for any clues as to what this guy's soul container is, then we whack 'em.” Francine groaned and pulled Ophelia away, causing her to drop the salad.

The stage's curtains opened as all conversation stopped, the squeaking of the metal pulleys echoing throughout. A rather small frog man in white robes stepped forward and raised his hand. “Hear ye, hear ye, please welcome the host of the ball and absolute ruler of Elam, his majesty, King Vukal!” Right on cue, a towering figure slowly made it's way from behind the left curtain. He had a wolf's face, but the tail of a chameleon and armored body of an armadillo. In one hand he swirled red wine, and spoke after taking a small sip. “I'd like to thank you all for coming this evening... not that you had much of a choice, am I right?” The guests laughed nervously among themselves. “No, but really, I do hope you have a good time, as I aim to set myself apart from my brutish and barbaric siblings.” Ophelia shoved her elbow into Francine's side. “That's him, but I don't see anything too obvious yet...” Francine shushed Ophelia.

The wolf exited the stage and a string quartet took his place. The melody was soft but pleasant and many of the guests began taking their partners for a dance. Francine smiled, holding her hand out. “No, no, no god dam...” Ophelia was cut off by Francine grabbing her hand which she had extended apparently rather subconsciously. The two began rather awkwardly dancing, Ophelia's large boots frequently stomping Francine's toes. The alpaca kept leading her partner, the other slowly picking up albeit reluctantly. The two stared into each other until all went dark. The crackling of the fire was no longer audible and a cold gust swept through the hall. “Don't panic, the fire just went out!” The frog man exclaimed. “What is all this?” Vukal also said. “My guests cannot dance in the dark, Samuel!” There was an audible hurried scurrying and the fire was lit within minutes. The hall illuminated once more to relieved sighs. The two were still staring into each other, but much closer. Their lips were meeting and their noses were touching. Both of their eyes shot open as they gazed wide-eyed for a moment. They broke apart and began breathing heavily. “What was that?!” Ophelia exclaimed.

“Is there an issue?” A large voice boomed behind both of them. Francine turned around, about to explain the lack of a larger issue. She stopped dead when she was met with the towering figure of Vukal, glaring down at them with equal amounts of concern and annoyance. “N... no, just...” Francine stopped as Vukal glared at them harder. “You two look familiar, I know I've seen you both before.” The alpaca composed herself, swallowing her shame. “Uh, I am a, uh, D'oeuvre, we are rather well known around the continent.” Vukal's expression shifted a bit. He contemplated her words for a moment, Francine sweating enough to turn the hall into a reservoir within time. His expression changed to a large grin as he put his hands on both of their shoulders. “Of course! The D'oeuvre's!” He boomed, pulling them both toward the stage. “You are the guests of honor, of course!” Vukal laughed. Francine's expression changed to a massive fake smile behind the terror she felt at that moment. Ophelia glared menacingly up at Vukal, reaching behind her back slowly. “I'd like to welcome our guests of honor, D'oeuvre and friend!” He laughed as he pat both of their backs. This threw Ophelia off and she dropped her axe on the floor, crashing right out of her pocket dimension. “Huh?” Vukal looked in the direction of the metal clanking on the marble floor.

“What do you mean D'oeuvre, that's me!” A voice from the hall shouted. Francine looked toward the sound and froze immediately. Her eyes grew wider and breathing labored once more. “D...dad?” she whimpered out. “An axe?” Vukal whispered to himself. “No... this wool... that weapon... I know exactly who you are.” Ophelia glared up at him and grabbed her axe from the floor, taking a battle stance. “Then you should know what I'm about to do, you pretentious snobby wolfie-boy!” Vulak growled and pounded his fist into the floor, sending tremors throughout the hall and a pillar of sand up beneath Ophelia's feet. She jumped back and landed just before it could launch her. “Francine, we have to move!” She grabbed the other's arm and began tearing through the hall. “Guards, don't let them escape!” Vulak screamed. A flurry of wolf guards poured from the sides of the hall, from all parts of the building after the pair. “Dad...” Francine muttered to herself, still in shock.

#original writing #furry #ocs #writing

[karebears56-blog]

From deep in the bottom of his sleeping bag, in a recessed niche of the Snake River gorge in Idaho, on a cold late fall night, a hunter, warmed by a cozy campfire, slowly melts off to a well earned deep sleep.

The long futile day of hunting, still unable to bag his trophy elk, lends fodder to a dream of the big buck that continues to elude him.

Subconsciously, the events of the previous evening’s round of campfire storytelling shared by his hunting peers, spilled into his dream.

As is often the case with dreams, a round of good and believable storytelling by a bunch of guys sitting around a campfire would conjure images around in your subconscious for days! Then, taking into account the stories such as these are honed to a fevered pitch by hundreds of years of historical folklore and myths retold over and over, the story you hear today has no original truth to it!

The storyteller nonetheless swears to the authenticity of the story, as if the event just happened and testifies he witnessed the hungry, vicious, marauding wolves, and the toll these predators are taking on the elk population, “yes sir, these vermin kill for fun!” “There were carcasses half eaten, blood and gore everywhere-

Why those poor elk never heard it coming, didn’t have a chance, I tell you!” And then to drive home the point, he proceeds to collaborate further saying, his friends and neighbor ranchers have seen their cattle business take such a financial hit, due to the mass murder of their beloved bovine, because of WOLVES!

So, the stories does what good myths are designed to do, and the hunter’s dream mixes reality and sleep induced delusions into his subconscious, as dreams often do- and he reasons that this surely must explain why he cannot find the elusive buck!……..

The next morning, he rises early as this is his last day of the hunting trip. Today is the day he mutters to himself, I will not let any wolf deprive him of his 5 point rack!

Resolved that he would get his trophy elk, feeling irritated that the gray wolf is decimating herds and his chance at bragging rights!………

  Whether dreamt, or perceived while wide awake, this is the opinion, testimony, and duty the hunter wears! Then with gusto and providence, he goes forth, spreading the lie that wolves are to blame for EVERYTHING!

I came upon an article posted by Idaho Department of Fish & Game recently. It was about the continued antics of Wildlife Services in Idaho, (division of U.S. Agriculture and Fish and Game). The picture showed a very large grey wolf, being held by its rear legs, head to the ground, a rancher smiling while holding up the dead animal.

The story told of how Wildlife Services would run ads soliciting hunter’s help. The at ask them to report any action people may see in the field of wolf depredation. Telling the hunter or rancher to report any and all dead or injured animals so that Wildlife Services can bring a quick end to problem. Saying, “the wolves would be taken care of!” In other words, killed. No proof needed that the wolf had a depredation! Just report, and leave the science to us!

Once again it seems the ranchers are claiming wolf attacks in order that the wolves will be killed. We all are aware of the brutality against wolves in Idaho.

My opinion is that Wildlife Services are there to kill, oh, wait…let me rephrase! “To control the the problem!”

So, if a rancher calls it depredation, then it is taken at full face value, whether or not their cow was killed by wolves or not! In this particular case, it turned out, they were justified in taking out the whole pack of wolves based on a ranch hand seeing a lone wolf near his property earlier that week, and it must have been what killed his cow! Although, it seems, no other wolves were around, the lone wolf and his family were “culled” in reparation to prevent further loss to the valuable commodity, “the cow”!

We continue to hear of the vast hatred of wolves in all areas. Wyoming continues its wolf hunt in trophy zones although the limit is nearly filled. Only 2 wolves out of 44 holding the death sentence are left for slaughter. Of course in predator zones, the killing continues. Word of mouth and bragging keep the count as it rises. We will not know until April 1, 2018 of exact number of wolf killings. They do keep a running record for predator killings, and hunter killing, but any wolf killed by a rancher or wildlife Services for Fish and Game, but no report will reveal facts until that date. And they will not release any name involved either.

But, I wonder if there isn’t something psychologically deviant to wildlife services work to control wolf populations. Clearly the message to cattlemen and hunters is that there does not need to be any proof that the wolf was to blame for a dead cow. Justification only needs to be a possibility and Wildlife Services can pad the culpability numbers to paint the picture, and the end (of wolves) justifies the means and the war on wolves rages on.

Their participation in “justified culling, or “wolf management” in what little is left of the wild world comes from a willingness to cede control. It’s easy to berate this compelling need to run things. We harness the wind. We control fire. We control wolves. We control elk and deer herds. Or at least we try. All of this seems ridiculous, to the point that the only thing that seems out of control is our attempt to domesticate the biosphere to the level that we ourselves have become domesticated.

Now here we are at the turn of another winter Solstice, an astronomical reality that does not care whether we, as individuals or as a species, continue into the future.

Man’s unbidden presence in this, the “right here and now” has depended to some degree on controlling a universe of wildness agnostic to our existence. Control is part of our animal need to persist and has served us well. But this compulsion to be constantly in command, even the illusion of it, only seems to feed the fire of species genocide, and to extinguish some piece of my animal nature!

So, tonight I’ll follow the music of the untamed wind, while being warmed and comforted at my campfire. I will not be regaled or thrilled by “folklore” stories. I will sleep soundly dreaming of the nobility of the wolf pack, somewhere in the wilderness attending to their own family’s needs of survival. The elk herd hid from the wolf AND the hunter for now.

Hearing a forlorn and long echoing howl cascading through the valley. The melodic cacaphany grows in testimony to the days events.

And I will be comforted and lulled into sleep by the awe inspiring call of the wild, the melodic tempo of distant drums reverberate in a primordial ancient subcontinent, recessed in folds of time and memory, that I am grateful to hear and feel.

Nature speaks often, and only a few of us today are privileged to hear her voice!

Sometimes we just need to let go of controlling the majesty of nature and give thanks instead, for a job well done!

  by Karen LaFountain

WOLVES: THE STORY, THE MYTH AND THE TALES! From deep in the bottom of his sleeping bag, in a recessed niche of the Snake River gorge in Idaho, on a cold late fall night, a hunter, warmed by a cozy campfire, slowly melts off to a well earned deep sleep.

[republicstandard]

Fool Britannia: The British People Are Slaves

The British Government doesn't care about British people, beyond their use as a source of revenue. We Britons are now culturally irrelevant and unloved; despite clear evidence of our impending extinction that if were said about a dandelion, or snail, or bird, would be sufficient grounds for great outcry and demands from George Monbiot et al that Something Must Be Done. Indeed, something must be done.

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The demand from a cowed and tax-farmed public is not for answers, but for punishment. Punishment for those who dare to be offensive enough to ask; what did we Britons do that was so wrong, that we must be erased from history?

Tommy Robinson 13 months in jail. Hope he doesn’t make it out. Scumbag

— Mick Doonan (@Th3Micktorious) May 26, 2018

The future is a caramel-colored, and subjugated either to a police state, or a caliphate. Either result is a reality that Britons, or whatever replaces them, will be ruled by an uncaring machine of bureaucracy or a proselytizing and punitive Islamic faith that will happily grow the ranks of the dar al-Islam by coercion, convenience and the War of the Womb.

The demographic projections in this article are based on current migratory and fertility rate data. Shocking as these forecasts may be to you, I fear that with the population explosion predicted in Africa this century, reality may be far worse, if one can fathom a worse situation than Britons becoming a minority which will almost certainly not survive to be the scant 37% of the population predicted for us in 2101.

As some people have discovered to their cost, the Police will not enforce public order when Islam is involved. They will arrest you for pointing out the uneven application of the law. This video is horrendous, and truly shows that Her Majesty's Constabulary are now an oppressive force that is the enemy of the people.

That's right, you did just see police officers burst into a woman's home and arrest her for perverting the course of "justice" whatever that means in England these days. The police have become corrupt. The police are evil in ways that are simply unimaginable to most people. But this is the truth. Her crime was to point out that the park regulations of Hyde Park, London, prohibit public prayer -by anyone. These gammon-faced policemen are too spineless to do their duty, and instead throw their critics in the clink.

I don't know about you, but I want there to be a future for ethnic Britons. I've explained in detail in previous articles what a British person is. I feel some shame that I did not discover or realize until this year that I have a genetically distinct ethnic identity and the importance of this, that culture is indeed downstream from race. How bovine of thought that was of me. The cult of self-annihilation is strong with our people. But what is a British person today?

A British person is a slave. Britons are not permitted to cry out as they are raped. A Briton is a second-class citizen in a first-class dystopia.

Britons are an endangered species, and nobody cares. In fact, our destruction is demanded in the media, for Whiteness is the original sin of our age. Those who reject this evil, genocidal and racist framing are branded "far right", even by newspapers that are ostensibly right-leaning like the Daily Mail. Britons may not be shown in a positive light in the press. Our demise is celebrated by neo-Marxists, followers of Islam and racists alike, for different reasons. Though guests in our lands, benefiting from our labor, the non-White residents of Britain do not speak out against our obvious destruction. Many elected officials consider the extinction of Britons to be a net gain, but nobody accuses these people of being Nazis, or genocidal. Instead, those who say; "No, I will not die quietly"- these are Nazis, who must be punched.

If a Briton offends a Muslim, ethnic minority, Jew, homosexual, transsexual or other protected class, their public life is forfeit. If you express anger that your own capital city, second city and many other towns are places which are no longer English, then your reputation is forfeit. If you speak out against the extermination of British people, against the denigration and debasement of your culture, your freedom is forfeit. If you cannot afford to flee your hometown -which your ancestors built and lived in for generations- before the tide of migration and Islam, your daughters are forfeit.

Our leaders evidently believe that if we are boiled like frogs at just such a temperature, we will not notice that we are dying out. It is essential to the agenda of demographic replacement that we do not realize what is happening to us. In fact, the state itself is only vaguely aware and understanding; programmed automatons have replaced genuine leadership in Britain these past 20 years. Only by accepting the twisted logic that appearances are all that matter, that the positioning of White Britons as the permanent out-group, the "other" in their own lands can this system justify itself. The Britons, for their part, are conditioned to only feel just and righteous when they care deeply about the minorities, who have been elevated to godhood. There are many frogs in government, also.

This position falls flat when we ask the Forbidden Questions. These questions are so powerful that those who ask them must be destroyed at all costs, lest a slave revolt take place. This is why our education system denudes our young people of critical faculties. This is why we are kept stupid.

These questions are:

Why is the British Government pursuing a socio-economic agenda that will doom our people to oblivion within a century?

Why is it that our once glorious capital city has no Londoners?

Why is it that scores of candidates for Parliament across party lines accepted bribes from Israel to represent the interests of that country over our own?

How is it just or fair that of all the many ethnic groups in Britain, the only demographic that it is permissable to be prejudiced against is the indigenous population?

Why are Britons not permitted to act in the interests of British people when all other groups are free to pursue their group interests?

Why is it that the British police will look away as British (and Sikh) children are raped, tortured and murdered for fear of being called racists, but will imprison Britons (who often die in jail under suspicious circumstances) for offending an Islamic god?

Who owns the British media?

Who really controls the British Establishment?

There is no true answer to any one of these questions that could be given by our government that would not begin a revolution so bloody and violent that the Frenchmen will gasp in horror.

The state cannot answer these questions, nor show why any British person should look at these demographic predictions with anything but ice-cold fury. Instead, the state hopes that the cattle will not struggle and stampede, kept fat and slow with excess sugar, too little exercise and mindless entertainment, estranged from our heritage and future alike, as a child from a broken home who is raised on stories of how evil his father is. In good conscience no Briton can see this truth and remain silent- and so those Britons will be discredited, jailed, or killed. Fellow slaves will call those Britons the usual insults but it is they who are the Sonderkommandos. Useful idiots indeed, accelerating their own nihilistic desires to fever pitch, devoid of intellect; overcome by the trap of excess empathy for the other, and none for themselves. Happily they dig the mass grave, with a shovel called equality.

Ignore the attempts to shame you for being. I would shame no other person for being happy to exist as they are, unmolested. Why would I? This tactic is not for the use of the socialist or neoliberal who hate you- it is they who should -must- feel ashamed. How can anyone look at what as happened to Birmingham, Bradford, Blackburn, London, Luton and countless other towns and not be ashamed for their part? It is our shame- all of it; but it is not a British shame.

Birmingham will be an Islamic City-State.

Brothers and Sisters, it is time to put down the yoke that we were promised we would never wear. We were born for better days than this, but we must make that reality happen through our own toil.No one will return our heritage lightly. No one has given us anything for free- in fact, we pay for the golden era of others. What you have been taught to value is worthless. What you have been taught is worthless is more precious than all the Queen's jewels and ermine.

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame: All their attempts to bend thee down, Will but arouse thy generous flame; But work their woe, and thy renown. "Rule, Britannia! rule the waves: "Britons never will be slaves." "

The anarchists have a saying that bears being repurposed for more noble goals. Agitate. Educate. Organize. It should be clear now that without you, there is no England, Scotland, Ireland or Wales. We may not like each other a lot of the time, but none of us wish the other exterminated, for all our bloody history and flaws. Become an educated person, understand this reality; and to those who call this awakening racist, it could not be further from the truth. Preserving our existence means preserving a force of good, order and prosperity in this dark world. This force has for centuries protected the weak, educated the ignorant, provided shelter to the refugee and the oppressed. We have replaced this great civilization with a police state that will oppress everyone in their turn, until there is nothing left but slaves who cannot see their chains. Only a free British people with a leadership that elevates their interests will emancipate us, and save our ethnic group from extinction -which need I remind you if it were anything other than a subset of White people, would not be a controversial demand. More to the point, we were never asked if we wished to be destroyed. We were merely told how it was to be.

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Britons, it is time to awake. It is time to organize, and band together. It is time to put this age of fear to the torch. It is time for us to forge alliances across ideological differences, in the name of our own survival. The alternative is continued slavery and death.

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[felipeandletizia]

July 29, 2020: King Felipe and Queen Letizia visited Cantabria. This was the fifteenth of the planned visits to all the Autonomous Communities once the state of alarm ended, to support the recovery of social, economic and citizen activity, after the pandemic.

At the National Cattle Market "Jesús Collado Soto", Their Majesties the Kings were received by the President of Cantabria, Miguel Ángel Revilla; the President of the Cantabrian Parliament, Joaquín Gómez Gómez; the Government delegate in the Autonomous Community of Cantabria, Ainoa Quiñones; and the mayor of Torrelavega, Javier López Estrada.

After the greetings, Their Majesties the Kings entered the interior of the market where a "Jota Montañesa", a traditional welcome dance in western Cantabria, was performed by four people (whistle, drum and a couple dancing) belonging to the Association of Dances Virgen de las Nieves de Tanos.

Then, Don Felipe and Doña Letizia began the visit to the premises with explanations by the director of the National Cattle Market "Jesús Collado Soto", Isaac Bolado and the market's commercial advisor, Carmelo Diego. They started with the milking area, then the sale of cattle and finally the exhibition of bovine breeds.

After the visit to the National Cattle Market of Torrelavega, Their Majesties the Kings held a meeting with the representatives of the groups of the livestock sector of Cantabria, in which they had a few words of gratitude and recognition to the sector "today and always".

Don Felipe has highlighted the relevance of the primary sector during the pandemic where Spanish society, he said, has rediscovered the importance of this sector. An essential sector in the entire food chain that has been essential for the Spanish.

For her part, Doña Letizia has been interested in the innovation of small and medium producers through direct sales on the Internet and in the relationship of the sector with distribution chains.

After the meeting, Their Majesties the Kings moved to the Port of Santoña, where upon arrival, they were received by the President of Cantabria, Miguel Ángel Revilla; the President of the Cantabrian Parliament, Joaquín Gómez Gómez; the Government delegate in the Autonomous Community of Cantabria, Ainoa Quiñones; and the mayor of Santoña, Sergio Abascal.

The Kings began a tour of the Port, during which they received explanations from the President of the Federation of Fishermen's Associations of Cantabria and President of the "Virgen del Puerto" Fishermen's Association of Santoña, Miguel Fernández. On this tour, they observed the work of a group of women "rederas" who were on the dock carrying out the work of repairing nets and went up to the bridge of a fishing boat, where the skipper made explanations about their activity. Don Felipe and Doña Letizia ended their tour on foot at the viewpoint of Puerto de Santoña.

The fishing port of Santoña is managed by the Virgen del Puerto Fishermen's Association. They have the base 34 ships, of the 132 that are currently active in Cantabria.

Their Majesties the Kings then went to the consortium company of the Consortium Group, where they visited the plant. During the visit, the explanations were in charge of the vice president of the Consortium Group, Valeria Piaggio and the general director of the factory, Ignacio Corral, during their tour the Kings passed through the packaging area of ​​the bonito, they saw a sample of the work of the sobadoras de anchovies and went through the autoclaves, the area where the sterilization process takes place.

#King Felipe #Queen Letizia #King Felipe of Spain #Queen Letizia of Spain #King Felipe VI #King Felipe VI of Spain #Official Event #Spanish Tour 2020 #Cantabria 2020 #July 2020