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la-pheacienne · 1 month

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I will never understand people insisting that it was Jaime's fault Elia and the children died and that he didn't do his job. I don't understand why people cannot acknowledge that the multitude and diversity of factors working simultaneously and opposite to each other is precisely what creates the tragedy of the event(s), these factors being slowly morphed into a mechanism functining on its own accord, beyond any power individual decisions could have. Every single individual in this tragedy (the sack and the rebellion in general) had entirely different motivations and aspirations, and no individual had the full picture at any occasion whatsoever, and this is precisely because of the broader mechanism that was in motion that I mentioned above. And there lies the whole point, the concept of not knowing, not being able to know in advance. The idea of actions, choices, decisions having unexpected consequences that a character could not be able to imagine in advance. Things could have been different if at any point any of the individuals implicated in this event(s) knew the whole picture, or at worst, if they were more careful, more diligent, if they had made a better assessment of the situation at hand. I don't believe what happened was technically inevitable of course. It could have been avoided, which is something that amplifies the tragedy. Of course the individual decisions of any of the factors involved shaped the result. But we need to take into account all these parameters that were at play leading to each and every decision, prior to the decision itself, in order to avoid a bad faith reading of the text. We know everything that happened. The individuals did not know what would happen prior to making the decisions they made.

Rhaegar running away with Lyanna seems suspicious in general and there is definitely a lot of info missing there (which has been confirmed by grrm, meaning there was probably a reason they run away together - and i'm NOT talking about the braindead fanon theory of rhaegar collecting dragon heads like pokemons). Aside from that big hole of info we don't have that would give a solid context for this otherwise pretty inexplicable action, R and L could not have expected in advance that the events would play out in the way they did, they could not know in advance that someone (Baelish?) would spread the news of a literal kidnapping, they could not know in advance what Brandon would do, what Aerys would do, and so forth, and we don't even know when exactly they found out that all these things happened since they were isolated. They for sure could absolutely not know that Tywin, who didn't even take part in the rebellion, would eventually think it would be a great idea to randomnly order the rape and murder of Elia and the murder of the children. Nobody could ever imagine that in their right minds, yes, not-even-jaime-hello, which is precisely why this is an act of TREASON (and treason is an understatement), which is precisely why that act has such an impact and such an aura of horror and shock surrounding it, because of how unexpected and inconceivable it was, and also, how unneccessary it was, at a moment where the war was already won.

The power Rhaegar had in changing these events in any way shape or form was minimal to none, faced with the mad king that could go off the rails at any moment, the treason, the unprecedented cruelty of his enemies that were supposed to be allies, and more than that, the general mechanism already in motion leading to this tragic outcome.

Which leads me to Jaime. Jaime feels guilty for what happeend to Elia and her children, of course he does. He was there, in KL, he was sitting on the iron throne (i think that's when it happened) while the events took place and he didn't prevent them. I would also feel guilty if I were him. Who wouldn't? He was there. If he had thought this through, if he was more diligent, smarter, quicker idk, more perceptive maybe he would have figured this out sooner, maybe he would have done something, maybe he would have been able to save them. That's undoubtedly what he tells himself. Rhaegar would undoubtedly feel extreme guilt if he was alive after the sack of KL (which is a mere hypothesis since the sack of KL wouldn't have taken place had he been alive). Hell, even Ned feelts guilty for what happened to Elia and her children. That doesn't mean these people (i'm talking mainly about R and J) are actually responsible for what happened. That it is their fault that it happened. That they willingly wanted it to happen, or expected it to happen and didn't care, or let it happen in Jaime's case. Jaime's guilt stems from an error of judgement at worst, the fact that had he known every single parameter at play, had he imagined the exact motivations and intentions of a multitude of people and how far they were willing to go, had he expected what would happen in detail, he would have acted differently and maybe, maybe the result would have been different. That's not even certain, given, again, the multitude of factors at play that were beyond Jaime's power. But Jaime of course cannot help but think about the what if. The result could have been different had Jaime acted differently but Jaime acted according to the specific situation he had at hand, according to the specific problem that he had to face. He did what he thought was right in that precise moment. He didn't and couldn't possibly know what was going on outside from his sphere and if he did, we do not know for sure that he could have actually prevented the worst from happenning.

And I'm being exceptionally strict here by attributing an error of judgement to Jaime because I could have just said he was entirely innocent for what happened to Elia and the children, and it wouldn't be false. Again, error of judgement doesn't equal responsibility for what happened, it doesn't equal "moral flaw". An error of judgement does not give the reader a reason to morally judge a character. It is an entirely different thing.

I got this from Britannica :

I don't get how people can be so dense when reading anything related to the sack of KL and/or Robert's Rebellion in general. "Jaime didn't do his job", "Rhaegar led Elia and their children to their deaths" like, can you actually read? I was unnecessarily thorough here for something that is not all that complicated. It is pretty straightforward actually. It's sad that people do not get it. Like, I see BNFs being all deep and analytical about Jaime's moral struggles and dilemmas and overall tragedy and how he was in a situation that exceeded him and then they're like "rhaegar is the reason elia and the children died". From the other side I see people saying that Rhaegar couldn't have known what would happen and then they're like "Jaime didn't do his job!!!", guys. Guys. I'm begging you. I IMPLORE YOU : correcting a mischaracterization (Rhaegar was stupid/selfish for leaving """""all that responsibility""""" to Jaime) with another mischaracterization (Jaime "didn't do his job" because he's a moral coward) is not the way to go, it is done in bad faith, it erases the entire point of Robert's Rebellion along with a bunch of very important themes in asoiaf (the impossibility of choice, the fact that moral codes are actually a construct and don't always apply/sometimes contradict, and the feeling of powerlessness of an individual when faced with a monstrous mechanism, a system that is beyond their control).

#i may get hate from stans of either camp but i don't care #rhaegar and jaime's roles and motivations are entirely different so their degree of responsibility or irresponsibility is different #i'm not denying that #but i'm talking about the common denominator between them #and the fact that both of them are the object of utterly incorrect bad faith and unfair takes #and i am not interested in a play by play of who's more responsible for something NONE of them is actually responsible for #or a play by play of the degree of innocence each one of them has like leave me tf alone #i'm trying to be objective and avoid a bad faith reading of the text as much as possible #which is something that i rarely see from either camp #jaime lannister #rhaegar targaryen #sack of king's landing #robert's rebellion #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #aspa rambles #error of judgement

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shady-tavern · 1 year

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A Symphony of Song and Music

The music had started a fortnight ago, during one of the darkest nights of the autumn season so far. It hadn't been the songs and tunes of the fae, those you knew well and knew even better to avoid them. That was your job around here, after all, to keep monsters away from your village.

You lived in a small cottage right on the outskirts and you and one other person spent the entire day with ensuring warding plants grew well and no charms had broken. Two people were always chosen, usually those without families and spouses or children, to try and keep everyone safe of the monsters.

The good part that you and the other warder were usually taken care of by the village in return and you could lead quiet lives away from the hubbub. As long as the two of you went around the village to warn them about impending monster issues, such as the howling of wolves on full moons and when you noticed traces of the fae or others in the woods, all was good.

Towns had more warders than villages, depending on how big they were, though such precautions sadly weren't always enough. You had heard of a maiden disappearing with a faerie knight, the faerie woman taking her during a pale dawn. Another village had lost their shepherd to a kelpie and a traveling merchant had been found torn to pieces on the road two months ago.

It wasn't always easy, but you and everyone else made do and so far you had done a good enough job. Of course there wasn't a way to keep every single creature away, but you knew how to make things unattractive, to ensure the air smelled of plants that they hated.

Sometimes the villagers gathered, rattling pots and pans and screaming in an impressive threat display to chase of smaller, skittering things that still dared to creep close.

The music, however, the one you heard nearly every night, with exceptions to full moons and when the fae were riding in the mortal world, felt different. It wasn't magical at all, didn't cloud the mind and fuzzy the senses. If anything, it had sounded sad and melancholic at first.

So sad in fact, that one night you had sung back at it. The music had stopped briefly, before continuing in a cautious but more upbeat tune. It had become a ritual since then, once the villagers had fallen asleep, you would step outside, keeping a coat wrapped around you against the growing cold of late autumn and you sang back.

Sometimes the tunes were cheerful, more jigs than anything else. Other times they were slower and sweeter, songs you would sing with your fellow neighbors around fires and during festivals. You made sure to sing loud enough that you could be heard and the sound seemed to travel well enough.

You had no idea what exactly was playing out there, only that whatever monster it was, you never saw hide nor hair of it. It seemed more than content to have someone to make music with. Even if you might not have the best singing voice, you were passionate and often made up songs on the spot, some funny and silly and others heartfelt.

You had no intentions of seeking the monster out who played so beautifully, you weren't quite so foolish. Even if they didn't mean you any harm, there were other creatures in forests as big and old as the one bordering your village.

Your neighbors had, so far, no idea of what you were doing. Your cottage wasn't right beside the other houses, mostly so you could cultivate protective plants properly, and the other villagers hadn't heard the music playing, so if they did hear you sing, they simply thought it an adorable oddity of your person.

People generally tried to stay away from the forest, unless they needed wood or mushrooms and wild berries. Autumn was often your busiest month, creating protective necklaces and filling pouches with herbs and others with salt and iron. Just in case. So far, everyone had come back again.

Until the baker's son didn't at the very end of autmn, straddling the beginning winter. The children had played hide-and-seek at the edge of the village and he had decided to hide among the shrubbery. No one could find him, no matter how everyone searched. The hunter, however, found a trail leading away from home.

The choice, now, was to give up and consider the boy dead, or a group went deeper into the forest, where it was darker and the air felt different, to keep looking. You volunteered to come along after a moment of nervously wringing your hands. You were the one who knew the most about monsters and how to keep them away. That was your whole job after all, even if you personally hadn't actually met a monster face to face before.

So after making sure everyone was as prepared as possible, with an entire satchel filled with warding materials in tow, you stepped past the part of forest the villagers had cultivated for themselves.

You had never quite considered just how creepy the woods could be, beyond the few moments when you wondered what else was out there. What some of the noises you could hear riding on the wind could mean. It was far colder here, where the sun barely fell through the thick canopy and the cold air was saturated with the scent of trees, damp earth and moss. And it was very quiet.

The hunter led the charge and everyone else nervously clutched whatever weaponry they had been able to gather, axes and pitchforks and one even had a slightly rusty, plain dagger, as long as your entire forearm.

"Shouldn't it be louder?" One of the farmer's whispered nervously. "I mean, shouldn't we hear birds or insects or something?"

"Not when bloodthirsty monsters are around," the hunter answered quietly, her voice grim. You kept glancing around nervously, fingers tight on the flap of your satchel, ready to reach in and pull out whatever could help you.

You were reasonably sure that the werewolf pack lived a little further west and if it had been faeries, you wouldn't have found a track to follow in the first place. That left a plethora of other creatures, however.

The stillness around you suddenly felt like it was holding its breath and all the hairs on your body felt like they were standing straight between one second and the next, a cold sensation dripping down your spine like melting ice.

You barely had the time to open your mouth, before leaves rustled and branches creaked and monsters descended. You had half a second to realize that those creatures, reaching as far up as your elbow, were goblins, before people screamed. Goblins were slim and with massive yellow eyes and sharp, sharp teeth.

They were armed and worst of all, while you could see the boy being held by another up in the trees, they had no weakness you could take advantage off. Iron didn't burn them, elderberries didn't twist their senses and salt didn't make it impossible for them to come close.

Fighting was all you could do, your heart pounding hard and fear had risen to settle around your throat like a too tight necklace. The cold of the air suddenly felt like a chill from the depth of winter itself.

As you stumbled back to duck behind the hunter, since you had only a kitchen knife to protect yourself with, you frantically wondered just why goblins were here. They usually lived in the caves and since the forest and hills were big and old enough to offer plenty of food and crystals, they didn't attack villages.

Your group was forced to break up, especially when one of the goblins shook the boy with a screeching giggle and the boy cried. His father, who had been to your left nearly the entire time, ran for him while ignoring the hunter's call, followed by two friends and suddenly things were far, far more dangerous for you and everyone else.

"Get back!" the hunter shouted and shoved you out of the way of a jabbing spear. You had no idea how to actually fight, but you could toss things from your satchel at them, distracting the goblins with a fist full of salt, which actually landed in the eyes of one, who howled and wailed horribly.

The rest, however, were now livid. Fumbling to reach into your bag to grab more salt, you began to pelt the goblins with the panicked hope to both distract and keep them at bay long enough that the farmer could finally get his boy back. Those who had brought pitchforks were definitely at an advantage now.

Two more goblins were quick to join and you were forced to back up quick, now also tossing your other prepared warding tools and pouches. Their skin didn't get hurt by nails, but they still didn't like getting pelted by them. Before you realized it, they had thoroughly separated you from the group and this time, when you reached into the bag, your hands found nothing but a few stray salt grains.

There was no way you'd manage to win with your kitchen knife. Not when you had never used it for anything but chopping vegetables.

The goblins paused and when they realized no more things came flying at them, they grinned, wide and toothy and nightmarish. When they jumped forward, all you could do was run.

Nearly stumbling over a root, you raced off into the forest, your heartbeat rushing in your ears and your body felt suddenly both too flight-light and fear-shaky. The goblins called out and then you heard them follow, feet thundering across the forest floor.

You ran as fast as you could, leaping over fallen branches, tearing through thorn bushes without stopping, barely feeling the sting and scratch along your skin, the tears left in your clothes.

Rationally, you knew that you shouldn't let yourself get separated from your companions. Rationally, theoretically, you knew quite a lot about how to battle monsters, how to twist your body to avoid being stabbed fatally and a number of other things.

Reality was it's own kind of beast and you were not prepared for it. Not at all.

Your breathing was so hard it felt like it was stinging your lungs and throat, eyes glancing around in a panic as you tried to figure out where to run, where to be safe.

You only realized that the goblins had chased you to one of the hills closest to the village when suddenly there was the opening of a massive cave in front of you, silvery spider webs the size of houses spanning between trees larger and older than you had ever seen before.

Stumbling over a rock and crashing against the stone, your knee open and bleeding now, you scrambled to turn around. The goblins, however, were slow and wary now, chattering back and forth before quickly advancing on you. But where they had been nasty and triumphant before, now they carried an air of urgency. This wasn't a chase anymore, but it would be a quick death.

Right up until you sensed a new presence behind you, emerging from the cave entrance and the goblins all froze. You had never seen a monster pale before, but they suddenly looked ready to faint, their hands starting to tremble hard enough that their weapons rattled a bit.

You didn't want to turn around. By the way all five goblins were focused on something above and behind you, a single fixed point, the monster was big. Far bigger than you and so far it had been utterly silent.

The goblins were rambling now, a language you didn't understand as they backed away, looking terrified and nearly scraping the floor they bowed so low. Your heart was racing so hard you felt your pulse pound in your throat, your legs and arms trembling so hard you didn't know if you could stand up again, your body feeling frozen in place.

You didn't want to turn around and face whatever was there. You didn't want to see what had scared goblins so badly they had run without even trying to fight or trying to bargain to at least kill you.

All you heard was your fast breathing, until finally you could make yourself move, feeling like a creaking, rusty hinge as you turned your head to look back. Nothing was there.

Blinking, you shifted to glance around more, but you couldn't see anything, not outside at least. Nothing large trying to hide among the tree tops, no massive footprints leading anywhere.

Now that panic wasn't trying to gobble up your mind to leave nothing but feral survival instincts behind, you noticed that the cave entrance showed signs to once have belonged to goblins. There was scratchy writing along one outside wall and the remains of what must have been robust, simple huts and buildings along the outside.

Blinking, you suddenly knew why the goblins had acted so unusually. Something had chased them away. It couldn't have been recently either, considering how destroyed and largely removed the remains of the goblin settlement were. You would guess it had been a few weeks since something else had claimed this cave.

Something that, utterly unexpectedly, hadn't killed you. Getting up and limping slightly at the pain in your knee, you slowly backed away, unwilling to strain whatever goodwill ensured your heart remained beating.

"Thank you," you still said, voice a little shaky, because you were grateful and you didn't want to be rude to your invisible savior.

You had no idea how far the goblins had gone, so you warily and with a small limp walked on, clutching your empty satchel like a useless lifeline. You met no monster, to your relief and when you managed to find your way back to the frazzled group of your neighbors, you were glad to see they had gotten the boy back.

They were just as glad to see you return largely unharmed, though in all fairness, your bleeding scratches and bloody, now swollen knee had been a byproduct of your escape. The goblins actually hadn't directly harmed you, thankfully.

Wary and hurriedly you returned back home, where the boy's mother and sister greeted them with cries and tears. You limped back home to treat yourself and sit down.

Even with how glad you were that all had gone well, there remained a subtle tremble in your limbs for hours.

That night you heard the music again, but the tune was entirely new. It was so very soft and had a questioning note to it. At least, you thought so. You only sang a little that night, preferring to just listen and let the music calm you further. You were almost asleep at the end, sitting wrapped in a cozy blanket out on your little porch, leaning against the wall, your eyes slipping closed.

As you went to bed, you decided that you absolutely needed to get better at your job. It didn't feel like enough anymore to just ward off what monsters you comfortably could. Especially when something huge and obviously frightening had unseated an entire goblin settlement so thoroughly they were still terrified of it.

.*.*.

Life returned to normal after that incident. Well, mostly. People were more wary, warning neighboring villages that the goblins might cause more trouble and keeping a closer eye on their children. As snow began to fall outside a mere two days after the goblins kidnapped the boy, you were busy looking through all your notes and the notes of previous warders to see if there was more you could do.

Slowly however, as snow began to cover the ground thickly and nothing more happened in passing days and weeks, the frantic restlessness and urgency in you calmed a little.

Winter was always the quietest season, some monsters hibernated and others stayed firmly in their territories to defend them from any roaming creatures. Others again were busy with survival and as long as no village was too close to their territory, they usually didn't bother to attack.

Of course there were a few incredibly smart ones which knew exactly how hard it was for humans to properly fight back or hunt in deep snow and used that to their advantage.

The music stopped as well, though you kept a window cracked most evenings, allowing a bit of chill to seep inside so you could keep an ear out. Sometimes you still sang, because you had gotten used to it so much and because you really enjoyed it. Even if you missed the music, you still had fun.

As soon as spring arrived and snow began to melt, the music was back. Slow at first, as if its master was still a bit sluggish, but you found yourself smiling widely.

You had missed the music more than you had expected and once or twice you even fell asleep to it, snuggled into your bed with the window wide open. After a particularly passionate song that left you breathless and grinning so wide your cheeks hurt and that got you complaints from neighbors, you truly wanted to know who your mystery musician was.

Previously the knowledge that it must've been some kind of monster to live and survive in the forest had made you too cautious to even consider the idea. But now that the music had brought you so much joy and it felt like someone was waiting for you every night, you wanted to give something back.

The next time, after the music started along with the moon rising above the tree line, you sang once again. At the end of your last song, you added a little line that you would leave a gift and you placed the parcel against a tree, marking it with the first tiny flowers from your garden.

It was gone the next morning and instead a purple crystal the size of your palm was left behind. It was beautiful and someone had clearly taken care to polish it a little and smooth some of the rough edges.

The next night you left freshly baked bread and jam and in return the mystery musician left a necklace, a piece of turquoise hanging from a simple leather cord. You put it on immediately and went through the day with a smile.

It became a sort of ritual after that. You didn't leave gifts for each other every night, but sometimes you woke up to a gift waiting at your tree and sometimes you left something. You never expected to be given something in return, but it still made you happy. It felt like, whoever was out there, enjoyed your time together as much as you did.

And, if you were being honest, someone who might care as much about you as you started to care about the musician.

As spring progressed, you left more flowers and one morning you were delighted to see that the musician had woven them into a flower crown and left them at your gate post. Of course, once you wore it, people began to talk. They had started to wonder at the trinkets you gained overnight, but now that you wore flowers it seemed something had been confirmed in their minds.

"Is someone courting you?" the miller asked with a big grin and you drew up short. Was this courting? Or just friendly appreciation? Did you want to be courted?

Murmuring a platitude, you returned back home and took stock of all the pretty and lovely things you had been given. Many were thoughtful as well and it showed clearly that the musician had paid close attention to what you had been singing, especially the songs you had made up.

Even the flower crown was part of it, you realized. It wasn't just a sweet gesture, but last night you had been gripped by a bit of yearning and had sung about a sweet love gifting you with a crown of spring and dancing below the moonlight.

You could lie in wait for the monster, they definitely knew who you were after all. But...it felt cheap and unfair.

You mulled over things for a few days and decided that, yes, you'd like to meet the monster. So you left a note with your next gift and more flowers. When you woke up, another flower crown made of your flowers was waiting for you, though nothing else.

You felt a little disappointed, but only for a moment. The monster might need just as much time to think about it as you did. Or maybe it didn't wish to meet, maybe it wanted to keep things as they were. You'd be happy to continue like you were and you were willing to hold back your curiosity for, well, it felt like you had made a friend. You'd respect your friend's decision.

You got your answer a few days later, scribbled in a slightly scrawly hand on the back of your note.

'I am rather frightening', the note began. 'But if you wish to meet, I will see you and if you never wish to hear from me again, I will respect that choice.'

You were determined to not let their looks sway your opinion. No matter how monstrous or strange they might be to you, someone who played so wonderfully, someone how so often played for you couldn't have a bad heart. And that was what truly mattered at the end of the day.

So you left another note, telling the monster you'd meet it at the pond near the village. It was far enough in the forest to ensure no one would see you and yet close enough that you didn't feel too worried about other monsters. Well, not quite. You were still nervous whenever you thought about the goblins and how defenseless you had realized you really were after that attack.

You waited patiently, at one point sitting down on a fallen tree, right up until you heard rustling behind you. The sort of sudden rustling that felt very deliberate.

"Maybe don't turn around yet," a melodic voice spoke up, softer and more hesitant than you had expected. He sounded nice, nearly as lovely as his music. "It's nice to properly meet you. I hope you're doing well?"

You only realized you had started to grin wide when you opened your mouth to answer, "Yes, I am. I'm so glad you agreed to meet. Your music is beautiful."

"Thank you." He sounded like he was smiling, a note of genuine joy threading through his voice. "I love your singing. You're so creative and so fun, I love coming up with new music for you to sing to."

You couldn't help yourself, you gripped the tree and leaned back far enough to look at him, your head tipped back. The view was rather upside-down, to be fair, but even like this you could see that he was big. Big and leaning against a tree, his many legs tucked close to be comfortable.

His lower spider half was the size of a draft horse, fuzzy and kind of sandy-gray. His skin was much the same color and his eyes were dark, his long hair moon-white. He looked startled, jerking back a bit and ducking his head as though to hide his many eyes and fangs and curling further into himself.

He was frightening, true, but your heart was still soaring from his lovely compliment and so you grinned wide.

"Thank you. Your music is so beautiful, I couldn't help myself. I love listening to you play." Your grin gentled to a little smile. "I hope you didn't mind me joining in. You just, well, you kind of sounded really sad."

He peeked at you, blinking and there was a baffled, cautiously hopeful expression on his face. "I was very lonely," he answered after a moment. "So it made me really happy to hear a voice answer."

Straightening and swinging around on the log to look at him properly, you gestured for him to sit with you. Or, well, sit if he could. He approached very slowly and you saw the conscious effort on his part to look smaller. He settled down a respectful distance from you.

"What made you want to play?" you asked and with that question you managed to slowly ease him out of his carefulness.

By the time you parted ways, he stopped looking like he was walking on eggshells around you, ready to retreat at the drop of a hat. And, yeah, he was scary, you could easily admit that, but he was also fun and as sweet and charming as his songs once he relaxed enough to talk freely.

You looked forward to meeting him again.

.*.*.

You met more and more frequently as spring warmed and turned it's flowering blossoms towards summer. Sometimes he visited you after playing music and you met him by the forest, making sure he didn't have to approach the village if he didn't wish to.

You honestly had no idea how your neighbors would react to you being friends with a drider, but not every monster was horrible and they weren't quite so narrow minded as to mindlessly throw hate around.

You exchanged gifts in person now and you were delighted to see him grow flustered and flattered in equal measure. The smile he gave you in return was the sweetest, softest thing, even with his fangs.

"Thank you," he said, his fingertips brushing yours ever so slightly as he accepted the gift, holding it close to his chest as though it was precious.

It was this moment that you realized, oh, you had absolutely fallen in love, hadn't you?

"I, um, I thought of something," he said, fiddling with your gift, which was a satchel you had made yourself and maybe the carvings and decorations on the leather wasn't as perfect as from a professional, but you still liked how it had turned out. "Can I pick you up tomorrow?"

"Of course." You were incredibly curious now. "I look forward to it."

He perked up at your words and you noticed the way he shuffled a little closer, now far less reserved than in the beginning. You had to admit that your hindbrain still startled for a moment when he skittered towards you at top speed when he was excited to see you, but you were too happy to see him be himself than ever let it bother you.

You parted ways and you waited rather impatiently for the next day. You still took your work seriously and ensured everyone was as safe as they could be in the world you lived in, but you regretfully declined an invitation to eat at the tavern. Instead, you waited until no one was watching and slipped away into the woods.

Your drider friend was waiting for you by the pond, looking equally nervous and hopeful-excited.

"This way," he said and you followed him. It didn't even occur to you to be worried and while there was a brief moment of concern about other monsters, knowing you weren't alone settled your nerves near immediately.

"I've been working on this for a while now," he said while leading you through the forest, weaving effortlessly around trees, occasionally using them to lever himself across shrubbery.

The moment he realized you had a harder time following through the underbrush, he hesitated. "Um, if you'd like, I could help you?" He held out his hands in offer.

Curious and grateful and maybe your treacherous, enamored heart leapt at the idea of being closer, you accepted. The moment you reached back, you found yourself lifted effortlessly and deposited on his lower half. You genuinely had no idea what the specific term for his parts were, but the fuzz was really soft and he twisted his upper body enough to peer back at you.

"Alright?" he asked, soft and hopeful and you reached out to pat his arm.

"I'm perfectly fine."

He smiled, sweet and relieved and when he walked on, he didn't have to slow down for your short human legs to keep up. You could freely admit that it was genuinely quite fun. He was fast and swift and you arrived in no time flat.

To your baffled surprise, he stopped in front of the very cave the goblins had once chased you to.

"I live here," he said, crouching down to make it easy for you to slide down. "I promise it's more comfortable than it looks."

"Wait," you said, reaching out thoughtlessly to grab one of his legs. He stopped immediately, looking back at you questioningly and with a hint of concern. "Last autumn, when goblins chased me here..."

"Oh." His brows furrowed and for the first time he actually looked more monstrous, as anger made him bare his fangs. "You don't have to worry about the goblins anymore, I chased them entirely out of this area." He anger slipped away again as easily as water as he glanced back at you. "I hope you didn't get hurt that day?"

"You saved my life," you answered and gestured for him to come towards you. Curious, his head tilted slightly to the side, he bent down and stilled entirely when you threw your arms around him. "Thank you."

"Oh. Of course." Slowly, almost hesitantly, his arms came up to wrap around you in return. "I'm glad I could help. I should have known they'd cause trouble when they lost the territory fight to me."

You let go after a moment and, feeling brave and glad that the monster from back then had been him all along, you took his hand. On second thought, considering the mass of spider webs, you should have guessed as much.

"So, what did you want to show me?" you asked and your heart leapt with joy when his fingers curled around yours in return. He was always just a little cooler than you, unless he spent enough time in the sun to warm up.

Taking you into the cave, you realized that it was indeed cozier than expected. For one, it was dry inside and sunlight fell through one hole in the back and onto the biggest spider web you had ever seen. There were more holes overall so the place was brighter than expected. There was a next of furs and carved shelves filled with trinkets and things. There was even a mural painted on one wall, showing birds surrounding a griffon in flight.

"It's beautiful," you said and he straightened a bit, looking proud.

"Thank you. Though this wasn't what I wanted to show you." He swiftly clambered up the walls to the thick strands that connected the walls above. "I hope you like it."

When he began to pluck at the strands, you understood how he made his music. It echoed a little within the space, explaining how it had been loud enough for you to hear. Awed, you watched as he played, moving in a sort of dance to reach and pluck and weave his music as swiftly and surely as he must've woven his webs.

You slowly sat down on a nearby, fur covered rock and stared up, your heart beating faster. It was a melody you had never heard from him before, luring and light and utterly enchanting. If you hadn't been in love before, you would have fallen in love right now.

When he finished with a last tune and a flourish, you felt stunned and your heart was nearly aching with how full it felt and you jumped to your feet, clapping and hooting and grinning wide.

His answering grin was just as wide as he skittered back down, dark eyes bright and his hands found yours as soon as you reached out to him.

"This is your song," he said, soft and nearly quiet in the large cavern, the last tune having faded already. "I wanted to have more to offer than words. My dear, would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you?"

"No need for that," you answered. "I already fell in love with you."

The smile you got in return was bright and downright boyish in its joy. "I love you too," he answered, fast and so happy a laugh laced into his voice. "I'll still court you, because you deserve it. Because I want to show you how much I love you."

You gave his hands a squeeze. "Then let me do it as well, this goes both ways."

"Yes." He leaned forward, only to catch himself. "May I kiss you?"

"Oh, absolutely." And you reached up to cup his cheek as he bent down towards you.

His kiss was as sweet as his heart, as captivating as his music and as lovely as what you shared.

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