#Prince Farin

[mrkida-art]

Doodles of Prince Farin, son of Borin

#my art #the hobbit #tolkien #lotr #dwarves #the lord of the rings #durin's folk #longbeards #Farin #Prince Farin #farin son of borin #grór #grór lord of the iron hills #erebor #the line of durin #the royal line of durin #also #cw strangling #i guesss hahah #tolkien dwarves #dwarves of ered mithrin #dwarves of erebor #dwarrowdam #gror

[ela-draws]

Prince Farin for @mrkida-art

#tolkien #lotr #art #oc #original character #dwarf

[heartthumpnovel]

Heart Thump: The Cursed Prince AU

Part 2

Word Count: 9846 Since the short got about nearly a 100 notes (Holy shit you guys :'D) I kind of have to create the promised follow up. This is gonna be a mini-series I think to help break up the monotony of writing the canon story while still being related. Chapter 7 in canon is still cooking so, have this second part being about Natasha convincing Jason to do the one thing I get asked often.... to touch grass. Part 1 Part 2 (you are here)

cw: Implied past abuse, panic attack

—

The morning light flooded gently into the bedroom window as it reflected on the dust settling in the cluttered bedroom. While it wasn’t a complete mess, it had various garments and sewing supplies scattered throughout with a half-completed lute lay on the desk. Definitely needed some love and care around the place.

During the morning rise as the room brightened up, a figure shifted and moaned in the bounds of pillows that nearly covered every square inch of the bed. A dark and nicely taken care of hand reached out from the mountain of pillows to search the bedside for the goblet of water. Her fingers felt the cold marble of it and attempted to grab it, however she missed the mark on it and shuffled the goblet just far enough to where it tipped on the end and made a loud thunk on the floor. “Gods damn it.” Natasha mumbled, dragging herself out of bed. She pulled off the towel that was holding her hair as she forced herself into consciousness. Her dark curled hair fell onto her shoulders and a bit into her eyes. She huffed and rubbed her eyes, wondering what time it was supposed to be as it felt like she just got back into bed.

She could smell the morning dew and saw that the light had entered her bedroom, if she had to guess it was just after daybreak. Her eyes widened. “Oh! OH-!” She shouted as she ripped the sheets off of her and let the pillows be thrown all around her bed as Natasha leapt out of bed. 

“Craaaap- I was supposed to finish it today before.. Ugh!” Natasha strode to the lute she was in the middle of repairing and sighed as her fingers trailed the wood of the base. 

“Suppose there’s next time...” Natasha mumbled as she stepped away and opened her wardrobe with force. Her arms searched through the closet that could have been deep enough to hold at least one lion. 

“Right, thinkin’ pink today… ” Natasha said to herself as she rushed to put on her normal going out wear which comprised a nice yet reliable blouse with a vest and her nice riding pants, “And just to be on the safe side…” Natasha pulled out her shoulder guard and attached the belt to her chest. Can never be too safe in the wilder woods, even if everyone she’s met there has been friendly. Though the one person who she met out there was a guy who was trapped in a tower by their royally messed up family, she still considered that one friendly face out there. 

With that, Natasha rushed to her dresser and did her best to braid up her hair on short notice. The dressed up Natasha strolled out of her room and paced down the hallway, trying to think of ideas to bring to her meeting with the cursed prince. Originally it was going to be her bringing some delightful music to play, though her lute broke a few moons back unfortunately, and she’d been procrastinating on fixing the thing. 

While he was on her journey down the hall, the servants doing chores gave their greetings to the noble lady as she passed by them, in turn she also greeted them with a warm smile. “Mornin’ Farin!” “Good day, Sanguine!” “How’s that leg treating you Steven? Hope it gets better soon!” Natasha then made it to the main hall where there was a grand staircase leading to the entryway. Just as she was about to jostle down the stairs, she could hear a woman clear her throat. Natasha sighed and turned around to be met with Miss Gurnda, the chef her mother hired ages ago. “Morning Gurnda, do you need anything?” Natasha asked genuinely. “Oh dear Lady Natasha, Sorry for keeping you but, I’ve noticed you’ve not been home during morning breakfast or lunch. Are you eating well?” The older woman asked with concern in her eyes. “Awwhh,” Natasha said, scratching the back of her head, “I’m sorry ma’am… spring is the best to forage for herbs and I’ve been trying to make sure I’ve had enough supplies before summer hits.” 

Natasha then raised an eyebrow, “Wait what’s that basket for?” Natasha asked as she pointed at a basket with a cloth covering something that smelled of roasted garlic and potato. 

The older woman gave a chuckle and moved the cloth a bit to reveal some nicely done potato rolls, still steaming and the scent was mouthwatering. “I know I won’t be able to keep you here,” The chef said as she handed the basket over to Natasha, “But it will be a chilly day in hell if I left my little rosebud to starve out there.” 

Natasha held the basket handle in her arms, feeling her heart flutter and she reached out an arm to hug Gurnda enthusiastically. “Awh thanks Gurnda!” She cheerfully spoke as she held the basket close to her side, “You’re too sweet.” 

Gurnda returned the gesture with a hug of her own before Natasha made her way down the stairs. The old chef could have sworn that Natasha was in a happier mood than usual. Before Gurnda could wave off Natasha, the noble lady turned around from the grand doors and looked up at her, “Oh and could you do me a favor?” Natasha asked, “Don’t tell ma or pa I’m out in the woods again.” The chief raised a suspicious eyebrow before chuckling. “Alright but, you’re going to be the one to tell them my lady.” 

“I’ll tell them when they stop tellin’ me what to do.” Natasha returned with a grin before she pushed the front doors open to leave. Gurnda sighed as she walked off to do her morning duties as she shook her head. 

----

Natasha rushed towards the stables with her basket of delicious goods as she traversed through the front gardens. She passed by the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming marigolds with a spring in her step. Happy to get to see the cursed prince, as if she was young again and was skipping to a playdate with their childhood best friend.  

Sure, it had only been a month, but visiting Jason during her herb runs had become the highlight of Natasha's days. She never imagined finding happiness while harvesting lavender in the allegedly dangerous wildwoods, where only brave souls dared to venture. But the moment she saw the man grumpily yelling at her to leave, call it cliché if one must, it was love at first sight.

In all the tales and rumors about the cursed Atlas prince, none of them ever described that the giant trapped in the woods was handsome and a cute flustered mess. Though the rumor mill is rarely honest and she found it quite sad to hear people still believing that he’s just some Atlas super weapon gone terribly wrong. Instead of seeing a monster reaching out of the tower to eat nearby travelers, she had seen a lonely man who just needed to get outside. Natasha sighed at that prospect as she left the luscious gardens and headed towards the stables to get her horse ready for another trek in the woods. Despite having spoken with Jason multiple times since their first meeting, he seemed disinterested in leaving the small prison tower. While it was understandable that he feared people hunting him down, Natasha couldn't help feeling crestfallen whenever he gazed wistfully towards the outside world.

"Hey Nirvana," Natasha greeted her white and brown spotted steed, who was busy munching on hay, "You ready to go?" The horse responded with a huff before pulling its head out of the hay, swishing its tail indifferently. Natasha brushed her fingers through the horse's mane and secured the basket of delicious dumplings.

“Where the hells do you think you’re going?” a familiar gruff voice spoke up that made Natasha’s shoulder’s jump. Damn it.

Natasha smiled and turned around to see her childhood best friend and coincidentally, the head of the city guard. The knight was already dressed down from head to toe in his steel armor that only lacked his helmet to let his brown curly hair lie low as it allowed him to show his disapproved scowl. “Ohhh heeeyy Axel,” Natasha said, “How’s it going?” “Don’t give me that ya weasel,” Axel spoke with his hands going to his hips, “You’ve literally been ditching sword training all week.” He would not let her off the hook. Natasha sighed as she turned back to her horse to complete tying the basket to the saddle, “You know I really don’t gotta do that, unlike you knights.” She commented with a side eye as she could feel the angry stare Axel was giving her through his bangs. 

“Yeah I guess but, who was the one to ask about getting trained!?” Axel scoffed, he clasped his two hands together and pressed them on his cheek as he pretended to speak with an exaggerated higher pitch and whimsy.

"Oh, Axel, you're so strong and badass! If only I, a child with a silver spoon in my mouth, could swing a sword like you! Could you pwetty pwease teach me your ways so I can defend myself in the big scary woods while I pick pretty flowers?~" “Oh shut up! I don’t talk like that.” Natasha retorted with an eye roll, “Look I’m sorry I’ve not been able to make it, I’ve just been busy with spring.” 

Axel huffed, leaning against the barn wall behind Natasha. "Come on, Nat, what's really going on?" he asked, watching as Natasha tried her best to ignore him. "You love beating up the hay dummies at the training grounds."

Natasha loved Axel like a brother, but he could also be annoying like one too. "I'm practicing a special formation called Nyanabussiness, bloodhound," Natasha said, making the mistake of glancing up at him. That one point of eye contact was enough for Axel to understand what she was hiding.

“You…” Axel said with a mischievous grin, “Youuuu are sneaking out to see someone!” Damn it. The knight burst into laughter with the sounds of his chain-mail clanking. He put a hand on his forehead and tried to regain his composure to speak as Natasha’s cheeks darkened. She sputtered trying to hide what she already pulled out to the open. “It-it’s not like that-” Natasha tried to interject though the knight wasn’t letting up. 

"AHAHAHA- oh gods, this is rich!" Axel exclaimed before patting Natasha's shoulder hard, "Who's the unlucky sod?"

The noble laughed before shoving the knight away playfully, “We’re not courting!” Natasha said, “We’ve just been hanging out at his place since he’s a bit of a hermit.” 

“Oh wow,” Axel said as he scratched his slightly hairy jaw, “The daughter of politicians is going out to see a lowly hermit in the wilder woods… scandalous.” He smirked as he watched Natasha untie the reins off of the stable’s post. “It won't be scandalous if nobody finds out.” Natasha pointed out as she grabbed the saddle of her steed and hopped right onto the horse. Axel just stood there and crossed his arms, he knew better than to stop her. 

"Alright, well, take care, will ya? I ain’t in the mood to come and rescue you," Axel said half-jokingly as Natasha rode the horse out of the stable. She didn't bother to look back and responded with a sarcastic thumbs up as the horse galloped away.

Axel shook his head with a tsk under his breath, hoping that Natasha knew what she was doing.

----

Most people feared the wilder woods for a good reason; it was a dangerous place if one wasn’t careful. While the forest itself seemed perfectly safe at first glance, with beautiful flora growing and the wild life thriving in this ecosystem, it was dense and made for a good hiding spot for bandit camps or rogue magic users. Since it was also the middle point of the Atlas and Solaris kingdom with a rather profitable trade route, many who worked outside the law found this forest to be a haven for their robberies. 

Thankfully Natasha had known a good part of these woods for a while and usually traveled away from the primary routes. Her horse was trained to traverse off of paths and she had steered clear of smoke from campfires. Criminals weren’t the only thing she was cautious of however, she had heard of fae being active in the area and while she had seen none herself; she made a note to avoid rings of mushrooms and marked focus sites. And then there are those who warned of the mysterious giant. That one she chose to ignore. 

Her heart raced as she found the grove that had hidden away the initial path to the clearing with the tower. Natasha didn’t want to risk getting her horse hurt from having to traverse through the underbrush, so she tied Nirvana up to a tree branch. Before she left through the bushes, she untied the basket from the saddle and patted the steed gently on his muzzle. “That’s a good boy…” Natasha whispered as she pulled her hand away, “Yell if there’s trouble you hear me?” The horse huffed in acknowledgement before it leaned it’s neck down to eat the luscious grass growing by the tree’s roots. Natasha turned to the grove and made her way through the prickly bushes and leaves as she protected the goods within the basket. By now she knew her way through the branches and had made a small path for herself after countless visits. She was cautious to not get her clothes torn because she wouldn’t hear the end from her mother. 

Once she pushed aside the final bush, she saw the aging stone brick tower that was settled within the forest clearing. If Natasha wasn’t aware of the context that prison held, it would have been a nice centerpiece for a painting. It wasn’t a watch tower, she had seen similarly designed buildings before. The tower that stood tall in front of her was a prison for those who were banished, thus the maddening monotony of the brickwork was hardly a pleasant subject for a picture.

The noble wondered how in the world Jason held himself together in that place. Natasha wished deep within her heart that he would just let her free him to avoid such a terrible fate. 

Never minding that, she pressed on through the clearing and traversed over the small walking bridge to get to the base of the tower. She cleared her throat and called up to the lone stone balcony to beacon the prince. 

“Rapunzel, Rapanuzel, let down your hair!” Natasha yelled. “How many times are you going to use that joke?!” The voice from up above responded.

“Hey, I still think it’s funny!” Natasha responded as she crossed her arms. She listened closely from below, as she could hear a little clanking and rustling. This time around she pondered if she was going to see him large once more. He had ‘shifted’ for lack of a better word to describe it, twice after their first meeting. However, he hasn’t shifted drastically since then or, she just hadn't noticed. While it pained her a little to not witness the magical phenomenon again, she understood that it wasn’t her choice to make.

Eventually, she spotted those adorable wide hazel eyes peeking over the stone balcony, and those thin piano-like fingers clutching onto the edge. A smile spread across her face as she raised her hand to wave at the prince within the tower.

"Hey, how's it going, big guy?" Natasha called upwards, unsure if Jason had transformed into his taller state, as the distance between them made it hard to tell.

Jason revealed his smooth face and lanky chest, flashing a sweet dimpled smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, you know, not doing much out here," Jason replied, "Though I did finally figure out a good balance to make tea from the lavender you graciously gave me." He twiddled his thumbs over the edge of the balcony, contemplating something important. “Uhm, would you kindly join me for a spot of tea?” He asked, loud enough to be heard but quiet because of nervousness. “You want me to climb up there?!” Natasha excitedly asked, fully prepared to make the climb if she had to- but, right after saying that Jason shot down her suggestion. “OH, no no no!” Jason exclaimed as he waved his hands, “I-I wouldn’t want you to accidentally injure yourself from climbing up here and me being.. well, me.” Natasha felt disappointed for a moment, “Awh… then how-" Before she could finish Jason pushed away from the balcony and came back with a tied basket in hand. He smiled in pride as he patted the items covered in the basket. “Keeping safety in mind, I’d thought I would just send your portion just uh, be careful with my tea set will you?” Jason said with sheepish politeness in his speech, “It’s the only one I have.” 

While it was a downer that they would not be meeting face-to-face, she guessed he wasn’t ready for that yet. Natasha brushed off the disappointment with an excited thumbs up and a wink. 

“I’ll treat it as gently as a newborn,” Natasha swore as she raised a hand in oath. With that, Jason gently hung his basket on the rope so graciously given to him from the first time they met. The basket slowly came down and it landed softly between Natasha’s palms as she reached up to it. 

As she untied the basket from the rope, it ascended once more. Natasha wasn't about to let that happen. “Woah, hold on there, your majesty,” Natasha's voice was filled with playful reproach as she tied her own parcel with the rope. Of course, she nabbed one bun before tugging on the rope twice. 

It took a couple of moments of stunned silence when the basket disappeared from Natasha’s sight for Jason to acknowledge what Natasha sent up. This gesture felt just like a gift exchange as they each unraveled the goods within their respective baskets. 

“You made pastries!?” Jason exclaimed as his head popped out of the window, she could tell he was smiling, “Oh gods, you didn’t have to feed me!” 

“Kinda obligated to,” Natasha spoke as she unfolded the blankets that were keeping the teapot warm, “We’re friends now after all.” 

Natasha heard the tower’s bricks crumble a bit from above as she unveiled a surprisingly humble tea set. It was indeed porcelain, though it was plain white and had a single blue rose insignia on the side of the pot itself. Sure it was nice though, she expected a royal first born like Jason to have something more gaudy.

She held it up to examine it further with her curious dim wine eyes before pouring a cup of her own. Smells of the lavender and honey had a very relaxing effect on her senses the moment she poured it. Definitely wasn’t something she should drink this early in the day but, she was gracious for the free drink.

“Dang this really nice,” Natasha said as she held the teacup in her lap, “It’d be great for a bad night’s sleep that’s for sure.” The lack of response from Jason prompted her to look up to see he had gone back into the tower. The first thing she noticed when he did return was his towering form, about as tall as a healthy apple tree, crouched from below the window frame. She had to try extremely hard to hold back laughter when it looked like he had a comically small teacup and plate in his large hands. Despite the sight looking ridiculous, his fingers held it regally as a future king should and rolled his eyes, Wondering what was so funny. 

“Ahem- Apologizes if the tea is a bit sedative,” Jason spoke as he held the tiny cup to his lips, “I’m used to preparing it this way so I can calm down whenever … this happens.” With that he inhaled deeply and despite being farther away, Natasha could see his form shrink immediately with a calmed sigh. With that- Jason took a sip. “Ahh, see? Much better..” He said as he leaned on the side of the balcony to gain a better viewpoint of Natasha. 

“This stuff isn’t going to shrink me too is it?” Natasha asked as she was in mid-sip.

Jason had to hold back laughter to not spill his tea and swallow harshly in order to correct her. He cleared his throat with a few pats to his chest. “Ahem- Heavens no!” Jason explained, “Height altering stuff like that doesn’t exactly work on me, plus even if it did- I wouldn’t think of spiking you with it!”  Jason stirred the tea with a small silver spoon as he shook his head. “It’s just a calming agent,” Jason said, “Frankly it’s not even alchemy and yet, for some reason works the best to help me get back into the right shape.” 

A pit fell within Natasha’s stomach. ‘Right shape’?  Something about the way he was referring to himself wasn’t sitting right with her. Her eyes stared into her cup for a moment in silence, thinking. 

“Uh?” The voice from above spoke in confusion, “Is everything alright Lady Maryrose?”

Natasha suddenly chugged down the lavender tea and set her cup in the basket with a determined look on her face that was barely masked with a sweet smile. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” Natasha said, “I think this tea party would be a lot nicer if we were by a scerne lake, wouldn’t you agree?” By the look of his grimminced face that too was also masked by a grin, his voice seemed to be peaceful but his eyes told a much different story. “I-I mean I suppose it would-” Jason shuddered as he put his own drink down, “Shame really.”

“Why shame though?,” Natasha interjected as she put one hand on her hip and the other pointed her thumb to the woods, “I know a great secluded pond near here that I think you’d like-” “You know I can’t do that!” Jason interrupted, a tinge of sadness prevailed through his firmness, “The cursed prince of the Anderheart family AKA, ME, stays in the tower in order lest he cause the end of the world!”

“Says who? Your dad? I don’t see him around to catch you sneaking out ya know.” Natasha spoke with a grin as she laid a hand on the stone walls, “Even from down here I know you couldn’t hurt a fly if you tried.”

“I-uh, No, I mean-” Jason fumbled as he crossed his arms inward, “What-what if I can’t control myself and accidentally step on you!?” She had the audacity to shrug. “Eh, accidents happen.” “...Natasha.” 

Before the prince could acknowledge Natasha’s rather self destructive behavior, she placed her hand on the wall gently as she looked up at him with eyes that were just as earnest as a kitten. “Wouldn’t it be nice to change scenery once in a while Jason?” Natasha said, “You have your calming agent with you so if you get uncomfortable out here we can deal with it.” She then clasped her hands together with a smile, “I’ll admit, I’d really like to see you up close.” 

Jason's expressions were unreadable as he turned away. Anxieties bubbled within Natasha as she wondered if it was too early to make such a request. She knew he was resolute about staying indoors, yet, as an outsider looking in, it pained her to witness anyone in such misery. This simply wasn’t just. 

“I suppose if one were to think about it…” Jason spoke up, Natasha darted her gaze upward, “It seems like curing my curse isn’t going to be an option, so perhaps I could train myself to stay calm and be basically normal. ” 

Natasha sighed, while that wasn’t exactly the mindset she was hoping for, it was going to be better than nothing. “So are you gonna come out?” Natasha asked. “...Yes.” Jason answered, he turned around whipping his face with his long silk sleeve.

----

“Actually- I might not be too sure about this!” Jason squealed as he was holding onto the rope, his butt having not even left the stone balcony. He sat upon the balustrade with both of his legs dangling. He could already feel the sweat form on his palms as he was gripping on the twine. They’d already been able to get the basket into Natasha’s arms and the last thing they needed to send down was the cowardly prince himself.

While a door would have been the more sane option, these towers weren’t made for prisoners to just up and leave. The only way to enter the tower, or for things to be transported in, was this measly balcony. Sure it wasn’t a problem for his druid friend who could turn into a bird anytime she pleased but, Jason was far from any wild shape master.

“You’re gonna be fine!” Natasha shouted upwards, “Just hold on to the rope and step down against the stone wall real slowly, you don’t want rope burns!” She set the basket down next to the teapot package beside her and outstretched her arms. “I’ll catch ya if you fall,” she said with a wink, “You trust me right?” “Ri-right…” Jason mumbled, he wasn’t sure if he’d developed a fear of heights or if the little Atlas pleaser in the back of his mind was telling him he was making a grave mistake. However, he’d gotten this far, and he didn’t want to get her hopes up for nothing. 

Jason took in a deep breath of the spring air, closed his eyes, slowly pushed himself off the edge and pressed his heels onto the stone wall. If it weren’t too late to turn back now, he’d be scrambling to get back to the safety of his cage. His heart was beating out of his chest and sweat dripped from his forehead as he hopped his way down. He nearly fumbled as for a moment his left foot lost traction, he gripped on tight to the rope with another squeal with his eyes held shut. His scrawny arms had already strained as he held onto dear life. “Get yourself back onto the wall Jason!!” called Natasha, her worry starting to set in, “You’re doing great for your first time!”

“I doubt that…” mumbled Jason as he swung his legs back into position and made another kick down. About two-thirds of the way through, the climb had already felt like hours rather than just mere moments and Jason was putting his full focus into not-- 

“KA-CAWH!” “AH!- aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!” 

An unfortunate crow decided that moment was the perfect time to swoop down near the eardrums of the prince and scream the song of its people. Good for the bird, not great for Jason as his hands lost grip on the rope. Jason screamed, believing his short and rather pathetic life had ended in an ironic tragedy. 

“Oh sh- I GOT YOU!” Was the last thing Jason heard before he shut his eyes, his world going dark. 

---- 

"AGH! Oh my Gods—Jason, are you alright!?" Natasha exclaimed, her voice filled with concern, as she felt Jason's limp body fall into her arms. "J-Jason!? Anderheart!? Your majesty, are you okay?!" she cried out.

She kept her balance despite the surprise leap as she stumbled from the impact. Her arms instinctively held onto him tight, her heart feeling like it could burst out of her chest with fear. Looking down upon the prince, she could feel him breathing through her hands. Releasing a sigh of relief, Natasha jostled him a little to see if he would wake up. That’s when she noticed a few things about him. Firstly; he was tiny. Not as small as a halfling or a forest elf but, he was definitely short for a grown man and he was as light as a barely filled sack of cabbages. On account of his gangly arms, he definitely wasn���t fit enough to scale the tower. Natasha wasn’t even a classically strong woman herself and yet, she was having no problem holding him.

Secondly; she noticed his pale skin which looked like it hadn't seen direct sunlight in a while, which to be fair, was the truth. Despite this however, it wasn’t pristine as there were a few tattle tale bruises from his collarbone and forehead. It didn’t take a genius to surmise that these were from surprise growth spurts from the claustrophobic walls of the chamber. If it went for the regal clothing and the sparkly dark opal on his circlet, people would believe he was in prison for a decade. 

Lastly… well, he was strikingly handsome. Natasha had to admit when she first saw him, she thought he was pretty cute from far away but, up close it was like the gods blessed this man with the jawline and fae-like daintiness. She’d felt a pang of guilt for teasing him when they first met. Sure, it probably was flirting but, her playful flirting was used to see if she could call a bluff about ‘magical growth powers’ Jason warned about. A groan startled Natasha out of her thoughts, noticing that Jason stirred and his doe-like hazel eyes, that were hidden behind his knocked askew lenses, squinted from the light. 

“Ugh, did I make … it…” Jason murmured, his fingers rising to re-adjust his glasses, before his eyes fully widened as they were met with eyes of near celestial dim wine eyes.

While they were both blushing, Jason’s face turned completely pink and despite being in a trance, Natasha could feel her arms suddenly undertake a mysterious weight. Suddenly, Jason squirmed dramatically and pushed himself out of her comforting embrace. Natasha would have been more disheartened about that if she hadn’t seen his previously frail form lurch in height.

She let the fallen angel go and bore witness to the curse, almost doubling him in size, though he somehow still looked lanky even if he was in the same size class as an earth troll. Natasha was struck with awe, staring at him without saying a word for a moment. While no fear touched Natasha’s heart in the slightest, the feeling wasn’t shared with Jason. 

The, now 7ft, prince’s face flashed with terror as he backed up against the stone walls of the tower. His gaze darted between Natasha and at the stone balcony above as he tried to catch his hyperventilating breath.  “No no no no!” Jason finally spoke up with a distinct stuttering in his voice, “It’s already happening, This was a mistake!” He spun around and attempted to grab the stone bricks with his large frail hands, failing to get anywhere as his palms stung from the rope burn. 

“I-I need to get back inside!” he shouted in panic, not noticing Natasha approached him once again to get his attention. 

“Jason?… Jason…” Natasha’s pleas fell on panic-stricken ears, “Hey, it’s okay!” She huffed when her voice was being tuned out by the prince’s scared ramblings. Her initial approach of treating Jason like a frightened rabbit wasn’t working out, so she took the next step.

His flowing shirt sleeve was jerked down hard enough to where Jason finally shut his mouth in surprise. His own shoulders tensed and he turned his gaze back down. When their eyes met once more, Natasha’s heart fell as his eyes were trembling and nearly welling up in tears.  

Oh, the poor thing.

"And check it out, you’re free!" Natasha reassured, her gesture encompassing the blossoming meadow that surrounded them. A smile graced her lips, beholding the realization dawned upon Jason. He fell into silence, his mouth slightly agape as he contemplated the situation. His eyes left Natasha and his gaze fell upon the lively grove that surrounded the tower. 

Gradually, he moved, stepping away from the tower and crossing a small water stream. Natasha followed close behind him, her grin stretching from ear to ear. She couldn't help but wonder about the sensation of breaking through the constraints that had bound him for so long.

His near-pristine shoes brushed against the fresh grass and the gentle spring breeze lifted his charcoal hair gently. There was a pause in his movement and Jason just stood there, presumably taking it all in. Natasha trotted to catch up with his longer legs and crossed her arms, joining him in admiring how lovely the forest was. 

Warmness filled her heart, seeing the childlike wonder in his eyes from the wilderwood’s kind greeting. The sunlight held the prince’s skin in a motherly embrace and songs were sung by the insect fauna. At that moment, it was as if she was seeing a whole new person.

A tear dripped down his cheek, which was followed by a soft smile. 

“Not bad huh?” Commented Natasha, nearly tearing up herself. “No… not bad at all.” Jason responded. 

----

Truly, words from Jason’s favorite novels could not have described the lovely ambiance of an enchanting forest. Glances through his window had only a fraction of the majesty of a soft breeze and the sounds of thriving life surrounding them. It was beautiful, and with the sun warming their casual stroll, one would assume Jason would have been having the time of his life. 

That couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

In actuality, Jason was in complete inner turmoil whether Natasha knew it or not. It was only just a couple of minutes since they left the view of the tower, but Jason was already being plagued with thoughts of doubt; wondering if he was a bad person for putting the world in jeopardy for a simple picnic, and he was hyper aware of every thought that passed through his mind. He’d already lost control when he fell into the comforting embrace of Natasha when he stupidly let go of the rope. Now he’d be stuck being as tall as a horse, if that horse was on hind legs. 

On the other hand though, it proved useful that he could now carry both baskets easily and keep walking pace with Natasha, who was on her steed. It would only be a minute before they arrived at this pond the noble spoke of, by then Jason could drink the tea and shrink back to normal as planned. 

However, Jason was now finding it much, much harder to control his thoughts as he’d discovered something else detrimental to the picnic plan that he didn’t account for.  

He foolishly fell in love. 

Perhaps it was the rush of being saved by a captivating and free-spirited noblewoman, but when he looked into her mystical eyes, it was as if Cupid's arrow had struck him. Unfortunately, his curse, triggered by a racing heart, wasn't connected to happiness. It was specifically romantic love that caused his growth spurts. While romantic themes in literature or daydreams about being saved by a knight could trigger the curse, he had never actually felt romantic love for another person until now. Jason barely made eye contact with Natasha since they left the tower, though he’d unconsciously risk looking at her as they kept conservation. It might have been the newness of being this close to another human being that wasn’t Ellinor, but he couldn’t help but to take in the details he noticed about Natasha, now that they were side-by-side. For trekking out in the woods as often as she did, her blouse with intricate lace was prim and proper for a lady in a well off household. Even her riding pants were only a bit stained at the bottom from the kicked up dirt. Though despite the initial daintiness her appearance was, she had a steel arm guard on her shoulder and a standard short sword holstered at her hip. Jason remembered her mentioning that she was trained to weld a blade for protection. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she had to use it very often. What really caught his attention though, was the soft cheeks of her face and lovely eyes. Plus her braided hair was extremely impressive, and she pulled off the look very well. 

“Ahem, Jason?” Natasha spoke up as she caught him blatantly staring at her. Jason looked down, noticing that the basket handles he had looped on his forearms were suddenly tight. The horse needed to have a pat on the head to calm itself when Jason suddenly sprouted another foot and a half. “S-sorry! I’m trying to keep it together the best that I can out here…” He mumbled, swiftly staring down at his now dirted leather shoes, “I’m doing a rather terrible job at it.”

“You’re doing just fine, big guy,” Natasha responded, “You’ve haven’t attempted to flee to that dinky prison more than once.” “That’s not even what I meant…” Jason grumbled, turning his gaze back to Natasha, “Could I ask you something actually?”

“Try me,” Natasha said, looking up at the giant with an eager grin.

“Why are you not terrified right now?” Jason said as matter of factly as asking how someone’s day went, “Everyone else, even Ellinor, gets tense when I transform like this.”  

Natasha jolted a bit when she had to hold back a huge laughing fit, this just confused Jason even more. Before Natasha could give her explanation, Jason leaned down a bit over her in confusion.

“I’m serious!” Jason said, “Just because I’m not prone to violence and raised to be a polite young prince doesn’t make the growth any less strange! How are you calm about all this!?” Upon catching her breath from the laugh she had to hold back, Natasha closed her eyes confidently, petting the back of her steed’s mane. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re capable of hurting anybody,” Natasha said, “Not only that, My best friend is a lycan and trust me, those guys have it much more gruesome compared to your little spurts.”

At first Jason nodded, thinking that was a perfectly reasonable response until… “Wait!? A LYCAN!? You mean a werewolf!?” Spouted Jason, thinking he somehow heard wrong as there was no way a gentlelady like Natasha could be associated with one of the most dangerous beings to roam the Atlas forests. He had never encountered one himself, but he has read stories of mortal men being cursed to turn into fearsome beasts and eat innocent people. Natasha could see Jason’s face run pale, but didn’t let Jason squawk the lies he’s been fed. “Right, I almost forgot you’re Atlan,” Natasha said, “Most of them are nothing like the stories in your books, They’re pretty much sentient as humans are and got instincts of a dog, not a monster.” 

“But-but the attacks..” Jason mumbled. “Either bandits, or newbies who think the only way to fill their hunger is by eating people because that’s what they were told werewolves do.”

“Oh-oh..” Jason didn’t exactly have proof of his own to stand on, and the fact he is a cursed man himself didn’t have the right to assume terrible things about others. “I suppose I trust your judgment more than anyone else’s,” Jason said, “I’m sorry for assuming your friend was a beastly brute…” “Oh no he totally is,” Natasha responded with a laugh, “While he gets on my nerves, he’s been there for me since we were kids.”  “Ah.. I see,” Jason said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Truly you are not a judgmental person.”

“What’s there to judge?” Natasha said nonchalantly. “Right we’re just about there.” 

After turning the corner, blocked by thorn bushes, Jason let out an audible gasp upon beholding the breathtaking lake. He had encountered depictions of lakes in drawings, but this scene far surpassed his expectations. The sight before him exceeded his imagination; the water sparkled under the midday sun, while life teemed in vibrant abundance all around it.

“Whatcha think?” Natasha asked, dismounting her horse and securing the lead to a nearby branch. Jason had already begun making his way toward the lake, emitting a low whistle. The innate beauty of nature had always drawn the prince, it also served as a distraction from certain matters on his mind. “The water looks nice,” Jason commented as he set the baskets down on the lush grass near the water’s edge, “Didn’t expect a lake filled with this much life to be so clear.”

Natasha was quick to approach his side and playfully elbowed his free arm with a smile. “You wanna go for a dip?” Natasha suggested, though Jason’s eyes darted away from her with embarrassed mumbles. "Actually, I can't swim," Jason admitted candidly. "Life in the tower and all that..." “Oh,” Natasha’s spirit fell a little, though life returned to her eyes when she spun around and raced towards her horse. “That’s alright! Let me get the blanket!” It didn’t take long for the picnic to be set up as they brought little to eat. However humble it was though, it was more than enough for the both of them. After all, the food and drink played second fiddle to the enjoyable company they shared. Jason had to confess that the buns Natasha had brought were not only the spiciest but also the most delectable filled pastries he'd ever tasted. 

The conversation they shared started small, but like meadow flowers, it bloomed beautifully. At one point the both of them were having so much fun, Jason’s height relaxed to a size where he could comfortably sit on the checkered blanket.

“There actually hasn’t been another heir in your kingdom,” Natasha explained as she stirred her spoon in her cup, “From what I heard, the current king is having terrible luck bearing any, so technically you’re still next in line if you wanted the crown.” “Ugh,” Jason groaned, “Even if the people magically want me to be their ruler somehow, I don’t think I’d be cut out for it...” He shifted his arms to hug his knees, taking a break from drinking to not hog all of it himself. “Heh, yeah same honestly.” Natasha answered, though didn’t seem to elaborate on what she meant as she stared off into the lake. This piqued Jason’s curiosity and he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Say, you never really talk about who your family is...” Jason mentioned, noticing Natasha suddenly not wanting to make eye contact, “You’re a noble right?” A pit fell into his stomach when she didn’t respond right away with the warm demeanor she’d had up to this point. He lightly tapped on his cup with a finger. “I apologize if that’s a bad subject for you-” Jason tried to cool it over but Natasha interjected with a sigh. “Nah, nah it’s alright,” she said, finally turning her head in his direction, “My parents are good people, it’s just…” She had to think for a moment to find her words, Natasha fiddled with one of the loose strands on her hair. “My family is a part of the governing Circle in Solaris, has been voted in to help rule for generations.” “So you’re basically a princess?” Jason questioned, he wasn’t quite knowledgeable about Solaris politics and had a basic understanding of the democratic process. 

“Definitely not, ” Natasha responded, “The people are the ones who decide who gets to be in the Circle, I’d have to campaign just like anyone else and most of the time have a choice to run.” “But you don’t?” Jason wondered, bending down a little to be eye level with Natasha. “My parents have raised me to be in the Circle just like the generations before me,” Natasha said with anger boiling in her chest, “Hells, if I even mention the thought about doing something else other than government work they throw a HUGE fit!” She crossed her arms, still not wanting to make eye contact. 

“I hate how we honor freedom for all and yet for some reason I’m selfish for wanting to have freedom of choice!?” Natasha ranted, grabbing the sides of her head, “Now that I’m old enough for professional study, they have been insistent to tie me down to study bureaucracy! It’s just so…” “Not fair?” Jason said. “Yeah.” Natasha confirmed. 

In order to comfort her, Jason attempted to reach a hand down and pat her lightly on the shoulder in solidarity. Though as his palm made contact with her vest, his hand roiled and Jason hissed a bit in pain. Natasha jumped a little and spun around to see Jason cringing at the sight of his raw palms.

“You alright!?” Natasha asked in concern, standing up to get a better look at Jason’s hands. “Owww, that smarts…” Jason grumbled as he rubbed the small burn wounds, “My hands are still in pain from the rope incident.” 

“Let me have a peek at them,” Natasha said as she reached her hands over to gently grasp the tips of Jason’s fingers, pulling them close to her. He could feel her soft hands rub against the rough skin on the injury slightly. It caught Jason’s surprise when instead of closely inspecting the wound, she just closed her eyes and started to whisper a single word that he couldn’t quite catch. His hands jolted from surprise when a pleasant glow formed around his palms. The light managed to obscure the burns, though he could feel the rough pain from the warm wounds dissipate instantly. It felt like a pleasant chill upon his hands and just as fast as it appeared, the light faded away to reveal his hands being completely healed. 

Jason looked at Natasha in awe and before he could speak, she already had an answer ready for him. “Dad used to be a cleric,” Natasha explained, “He taught me a few handy cantrips but, I can’t do anything majorly breathtaking.” “But, you are breathtaking...” Natasha raised her head, wondering if she heard him correctly, though she was met with a sight of an incredibly flustered man who just realized that he said a thought that wasn’t meant to be said out loud. This was also the moment where Jason realized not only did he accidentally flirt with her, but he was holding her hands. 

The scandal.

Suddenly, his hands engulfed hers, and the growth spurt triggered his knees to nudge a teacup, toppling it over and threatening to break its porcelain rim. Jason’s heart was beating wildly, and the enlargement kept startling pace with it. He barely had time to scramble away from her as his surroundings became wildly different from before. His surroundings morphed into an entirely different scale, the once-shady trees now surrounded him, the once-vast lake seemed a mere puddle.

Struggling for breath, he crawled back on his hands, retreating toward the clearing's edge, which now wasn't far from the picnic site that had been so peaceful before. Horrified that his shoe was now large enough to topple it all over and it was right beside Natasha, who at this point was standing up with an unreadable shock on her face. "Jason?!" Natasha exclaimed, extending a comforting arm. "Okay, let's take some deep breaths, big guy—" She moved closer, but before she could reach him, he yelped, scaring the birds from their nests in a cacophony of fear.

"DON'T COME CLOSER!" His shout, though unintended, rang out powerfully, the potency of his voice a byproduct of his size. He regretted it instantly, aware of how dangerous his voice had become at this scale. The sight of Natasha covering her ears only intensified his heartache. Closing his eyes tightly, he felt the grass beneath him meld together, the oak branch he'd backed into pressing heavily atop his head. “Yeesh, no need to take out my hearing.” Natasha's voice pierced through, her intent unclear as she ventured closer despite his plea. He struggled to curl up further as he embiggened, knees pulling toward his chest. “I- I'm sorry.” Jason mumbled relatively quietly. The tightness in his chest didn’t alleviate and his fingers had gone numb as he gripped his hands close to his sides, beseeching his own subconscious to regain control. He hadn't been this height since…

Old spear head wounds burned on his gut and ghostly impressions of chains of his past clutched his throat. He could barely recall anything but the pain and the harsh words pitted against him by the very guards sworn to protect the family. 

His body, as quickly as it began expanding, stopped engulfing the grove they were in, however Jason could tell he wasn’t shrinking back to normal. A frightful thought raced through his mind, his stomach churned at the thought of him being stuck as a gigantic beast daring to feel anything other than dismay. 

His mind, clouded and unable to think of anything other than the pain he’d been enduring his whole life, he could hardly hear Natasha’s voice getting closer to him. Though he managed to understand some of her words as he could feel a tiny tug pull on his sleeve. “Your knuckles are going pale,” Natasha’s voice said to him, “Unclench them and breathe hun, you’re safe.” Jason swallowed, and uncurled his fingers as she requested. As he was comforted by her presence, he couldn’t help the guilt boiling up inside himself for putting her in not only an uncomfortable situation, but a dangerous one at that. He tried to speak up, but he couldn’t find the strength to talk through his hyperventilating. Immediately he was soothed by pats on the edge of his forearm which felt as if a swallow decided to perch on his arm. “Come on, deeeep breaths,” Natasha encouraged as she demonstrated herself while speaking, “Nice and sloowwww.” He struggled to find a moment, but when he did, he took a long deep breath of air and shakily released it. Feeling was beginning to return to his body as he could sense the small blades of grass on the ground and the wetness on his cheeks. Despite him re-gaining his senses, he still refused to let himself have his vision back. Deep down he knew that whatever he was going to see, it would probably make him pass out completely. Jason managed to clear his throat and speak with a pathetic whimper in his tone. 

“I-I am so sorry,” Jason said, “Th-this is very unbecoming of me… Hells, I ruined everything didn’t I?” He choked back tears, and tried his best to hold sobs. He heard a quiet chuckle that was paired with an out of place sniff, “Nobody looks dashing crying,” her voice spoke, “And that doesn’t matter… trust me you’ve done nothing wrong.” Jason could sense her presence lean over his wrist, her gentle touch petting the back of his hand just as if someone was tracing their smallest finger tip across it. “Didn’t realize how bad this could get..” Natasha wearily commented as Jason steadied himself. The giant heaved a sigh while his head hung low. “I told you,” Jason spoke, “This is why I have to be locked away…”

“That’s not what I mean.” Natasha sighed as she momentarily retracted the touch Jason yearned for. Before he could ask what she meant by that, he felt the air swish over his wrist and then a tug at his side of his waist. He’d almost forgotten he was curled up against an oak tree for a moment. He felt pressure wobble on top of his stomach, a sensation he’d yet to feel when he was rarely large like this. His ears then caught Natasha’s small voice in front of him, confirming the presence that was now standing on him was her. “Please open your eyes,” Natasha said, “I need you to look at me.” “B-b-but what if I-” Jason stammered. “It’s going to be okay,” Natasha re-affirmed, “I promise.” He froze. Two trains of thought had collided in his mind. On one hand he was worried if he were to see her beautiful face again he’d destroy the entire forest however, Jason’s trust had been handed over to Natasha many times before and if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have had the courage to step outside the prison he thought he could never leave. It may have been naïve of Jason, but ever since they’ve met that fateful day he felt like he her judgment was solid. Especially how annoying she could be with her earnestness. Jason gently let his breath go, not wanting to blow away his passenger off of his chest, and opened his eye lids gingerly. 

He had to adjust his eyes from the afternoon sun shining, though once he managed to blink a couple of times to clear his vision. The scene was just about the same before he closed his eyes; his body took up nearly half of the shore of the lake and the picnic blanket could have easily been mistaken as a handkerchief. However, when his pupils focused on the figure in front of his face and standing just below his lower ribs, he noticed that an adorably small Natasha was staring right at him. Though was she… crying? 

----

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Natasha thought if maybe, just maybe, the prince would find happiness by stepping outside and figuring out that he didn’t need to be miserable for the rest of his life just because he was cursed. Sure, it would probably be rough the first few trips into the woods but what she failed to account for was the situation of him having a full blown panic attack. Self love evidently wasn’t easy to teach. Especially if she didn’t practice much of it herself. 

Guilt riddled her soul when she saw that mortified face and subsequent tears that followed. How could she have not realized that he was going to rehash horrible feelings from growing to a height that he was forbidden to be at? In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been so selfish and taken this entire going outside thing slowly. Her need to see his charming face up close had forced him to confront his issues far before he was ready to. Did she even have the right to trample on his boundaries like that? These thoughts boiled over as her tears betrayed her when she stood face-to-face with Jason. 

“I’m.. so sorry.”

She choked up, staring into those enormous doe eyes. His eyes were slightly red from the tears that were going down his cheeks. The uncertain twitches of his lower eyelids steadied themselves once his pupils managed to dilate upon seeing her. Jason spoke up in a gentle whisper, which at this size sounded more like it was at a speaking level with a rasp in his tone.

“Oh no no no…” Jason said, “You didn’t do anything that heeds an apology.” Natasha clenched her fists, she felt like the giant prince was just being cordial for her sake. She was hoping to hear him say that she forgives her miss-step. Her head shook. “You don’t have to be so undeservedly kind to me,” Natasha said through tears, “I messed up big time and took away your sense of safety from you… Now you’re suffering.” A lavender smelling huff of wind blew through her hair, a moment of disbelief passed before Jason spoke up again, “I’m not suffering- well, not by your hands anyway.” When Natasha didn’t give a response, the large comforting presence continued speaking. “In fact, you gave me something wonderful Natasha,” Jason said with a weary grin as Natasha looked back up at him in confusion, “You gave me a choice.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha asked, wondering where the hells Jason was going with this. “I chose to come with you to our picnic,” Jason said, whipping his face a tad with a long sleeve, “I’d never have left by myself, I wouldn’t have had the courage to and would have been miserable.” “But aren’t you miserable now!?” Natasha interjected, “If I gave you anything, it was a heart attack!” The collar of her laced blouse was wet with tears, at this point she covered her face in shame. Embarrassment of sobbing in front of him had begun to dog pile onto her mind as well. Why did she have to be so ignorant and get themselves into this horribly awkward situation? Her own mind kept coming up with more cruel things she felt guilty of before..

Natasha suddenly felt something soft press on the side of her head. 

Her eyes opened and the sight made her gasp, if she was seeing this right; A silky blue handkerchief folded gently on a finger tip that could have been mistaken as a small bedside table at first glance. Natasha looked up and saw his eyes pleading with her. “Uhm, “ Jason whimpered, “Thought you could use this..” Not wanting to decline this adorable man’s offer, she took the favor and dabbed her cheeks with a soft smile. “Thanks…” Natasha exasperated, “Look I’m sorry for-” “Natasha.” 

“...Yeah?” “I had an incredible time with you today, Thank you for everything you’ve been doing for me,” Jason said with genuine heart in his voice, “But please, don’t tear yourself down because of my need to process… uhm. This.” He emphasized by looking down at his chest which was about as wide as a king’s bed. Natasha’s silence gave Jason more of a chance to speak his peace. "It's not your duty to ensure I'm not miserable," Jason explained, a chuckle resonating through Natasha's boots. "Your company is more than enough..." The prince's heartfelt words left Natasha momentarily speechless. Even if she didn't believe she deserved mercy, an inexplicable sense of happiness enveloped her. The sweetness of the prince's heart must have expanded along with his body. She wondered why she felt so gosh darn happy. The noble patted down her tears one more time before reaching and wrapping her arms around the finger that gave her the handkerchief, giving it a tight squeeze. 

SNAP

“Owch!” Natasha pulled away from the sound of Jason’s squeal and was met with a slightly bigger hand and the prince rubbing the of his head. There laid an oak branch upon his shoulder that was broken at the stem. A brief, stunned silence passed between them.

"I, um, apologize for that—" Jason began.

“Oh no, I should be the one sorry here- I forgot about..." Natasha's voice trailed off as she too offered her apology.

A moment of pause hung in the air, their eyes locking. And then, they both chuckled. Natasha patted the tip of the finger that Jason had extended to her, a sense of camaraderie bridging the gap between them. After all, what was there to judge?

#g/t #giant tiny #heart thump #gt writing #writing #gt community #gt #giant #giant/tiny #AU #fantasy #Cursed Prince #size difference #tiny

[butterfly-winx]

I've always found it strange that Winx/Specialist/Trix etc don't have surnames, In your Au they have them and if so which ones.

Me too, so I have of course given them names to match their family history. Let's go in order of appearance (roughly)

Bloom Peters, later Bloom Peters-Aglissier

Born: Virna Aglissier, which also means "bloom, blossom" and baby bloom magically projected her name which her adoptive parents 'translated' into their native language. Briefly also known as Varanda of Callisto

--

Stella XXXVI

Is the actual name she is born with, since royals on Solaria have a title name only, no personal one. Luna being an outsider and with common sense gave Stella a civilian name: Mariella Pregioni (Luna's maiden name is Giulia Pregioni)

---

Flora Augmenta Lisahani

Flora has no last name, all three of her names are given names. Her sister is called Miele Concordia Jojoba

---

Tecna Rahman, officially Tasha Rahman

Tecna adds their nickname to her official record after graduating Alfea

---

Yu En Musa

Musa has a two-syllabylic elf surname from her mother (Yu En Maylin) and not her fathers family name (Zhang Haobai)

---

Skyvian man-do Erendor, or Brandon Essikva (when undercover)

Among nobility, last names are comprised of their father's name, essentially meaning "son/daughter of someone"

---

Brandon Sanna, or "Prince Sky"

He also gets a Solarian title while courting Stella: Prince Consort Hector XVII

---

Tim Aubach

Self explanatory. The family of Timmy's father emigrated to Callisto from Earth a while ago

---

Riven El Falong

Uses Riven Sok on his visa and related records because his family name is a minority ethnic one and he feels safer that way. (Sok is like the most common last name, think Zuko saying Li)

---

Icadora Grimae, later Belladona Icy

All the Trix later adopt a mix of their current and past name (from Aegoda Belladona) . Icy's sister formerly known as Saphire is named Glissandra in butterfly verse

---

Dareena Darcei, later Padraigna Darcei

Darcy goes by a nickname formed from her last name interestingly. (ancestress: Padraigna Lyssis)

Alastormia M?, later Stormy Čestyl

Stormy lost most of her memories when Tharma (Čestyl Tharma) took over, so she doesn't know her last name actually

---

Layla Aisha Aghebe

Layla mostly just uses her first name and only Tritannus and Ligea still call her Aisha, becuase back when she was chosing her name she couldn't decide between the two

---

Helia Salador, born Helia Erica Mnemol

When Saladin sought asylum for him on Magics, he thought it was better to give him an official last name. The clerk made a mistake reading Saladin's handwriting and thus 'Salador' was created

---

Daphne Brelain Agglissier

Daughter of Oritel Vanu Aglissier And Marion Fiere Niancey. The royal family's name comes from one of the languiages that no longer exist on the planet due to their extreme cultural globalisation

---

Honourable mentions:

Roxana Birchfeld (Roxy) (Klaus Birchfeld and Morgana Pendragon)

Krystal Arancia Nadrujena Vigo (does have a last name)

Mirta Wingert

Lucy Luckhurst

Nova Berzanetti

Varanda Fiona de Numor

Diaspro Ien-do Drogo

Vanessa Vicenzio and Mike Peters

Nabu Tteke

Xiang Galatea

Paula "Poppy" Faragonda

Misandra Griffin

Mary Griselda

Farin Ebenezor Saladin

Kriszta DuFour

Ophelia Erhart

Antonio Wizgiz

Camilo Avalon

Feid Palladium

#winx club #asks #butterfly fic #names

[ivyprism]

Ahem, Characters for the Appreciation Event:

Fellswap Amaranth -

Vulcan (Grillby), Eclair (Muffet), and Enya (Fuku Fire)

Fujiko (Undyne) and Beryl (Alphys)

Elric (Asgore), Alexandra (Toriel), Victor (Asriel), and Nicole (Goner Asriel)

Micah/M (Monster Kid/Temmie), Farin (Frisk), and Clare (Chara),

Ryder (Napstaton) and Hendrix (Hapstablook)

Theodora (Elric's Mother) and Cedric (Elric's Father)

Octavia (Alexandra's Mother) and Claudius (Alexandra's Father)

Dolce (Papyrus), Ares (Gaster), and Airen (Sans)

Jade (Skelesona)

Emerald (Jade's Older Sister: Not a Good Person), Amethyst (Jade's Younger Sister), Topaz (Jade's Older Step-Brother), Agate (Jade's Older Step-Brother: he is deceased), and Sapphire (Jade's Other Younger Sister)

My Rewritten Old AU (Mostly OCs, not going to lie.) -

Flint (Grillby), Sherbert (Muffet), and Stella (Fuku Fire)

Oriel (Undyne) and Della (Alphys)

Tara (Toriel) and Theodoric (Asgore)

Asher/Grey (Asriel/Flowey), Marlowe (Monster Kid), Angel (Frisk) , and Haven/Lyric (Chara/Stuffy)

Kai (Napstablook) and Apollo (Mettaton)

Rain (Papyrus), Conroy (Sans), and Crane (Gaster)

Hailey (My Old AU Skelesona)

Ariella (OC)

Nyx and Ragnar (Both OCs)

Diane, Lilith, Fiona, Lillia, Samantha, Kendall, Jaxson, and Eliza. (ALL OCs and also the six SOULS, Nyx being the seventh)

Abby (Alternative Princess of Underground: Goat Monster) and Adrian (Alternative Prince of the Underground: Goat Monster)

Tia (Alternative Queen of the Underground: Goat Monster) and Alec (Alternative King of the Underground: Goat Monster)

Skylar (Skeleton Monster: Alternative Judge of the Underground), Pamela (Skeleton Monster: Alternative Royal Guard Member), and Gladys (Skeleton Monster: Missing, but also Alternative Royal Scientist)

Brielle (Robot/Ghost Monster) and Genevieve (Robot/Ghost Monster)

Troy (Lizard Monster: Alternative Captain of the Royal Guard) and Alden (Dragon Monster: Alternative Second Royal Scientist after Gladys)

Emlyn (Lizard Monster: Training Royal Guard Member and Troy's Little Sister) and Fianna (Chameleon Monster: Aspiring Royal Scientist)

Nemesis (Illusion of Toxin) and Gabriella (Illusion of Genevieve)

Dani (Child OC who takes the place of Diane) and Lila (Child Oc who takes the place of Lilith)

#AHHHHHHH #info #character names #my old au #my old au rewritten #my old au ocs #fellswap amaranth

[lovestuckyhatemarvel]

#criminal Minds #unsubs #serial killers #poll #I only included ones that showed up in more than one episode as the unsub

[raducotarcea]

[watatsumi-island]

Blades but no eyebrows

#BladesofLoppingandSnantching

I HATE MYSELF-

Tagging people who will be traumatized: @silverlitskies I see you Hayden 😉 @keviriass Irem I'm so sorry- @princessstellaris @blightarts @astridvolari @fluffykitten246 @random-blog-of-random-stuff-etc @julia-highstorms @ntoraplayschoices @n-whas @mahariel-theirin @eileendannie

#choices #OMFG LAUREN #WHAT DID YOU DO #CHRIST- #tyril starfury #choices kade #bolas kade #imutra tal kaalen #nia ellarious #mal × tyril #tyril x mal #mal volari #aerin valleros #dark aerin #prince aerin #farin starfury #adrina starfury #blades of light and shadow #Aight imma rot in a hole now- #Hi Hayden-

[freddiemjfan]

When I first came here (I was Probably 13) I just wanted to be edgy and different and yeah I am so Punk/goth whatever , I reposted really depressed quotes even if I didn't even know what being depressed really meant until a few years later . Then I saw the chance for my inner fangirl (that I am since I started loving Michael Jackson when I was 5) to come out and started to repost EVERYTHING that had to do with my favourite bands and singers . And so now and then when I have a new fandom I download this app again , follow new stuff , download and repost stuff and then I see my Timeline. You can see me change from that depressed emo goth to Punk and anarchy to fuck all that I love Queen and Freddie Mercury, to some YouTube guys and to Prince. And even tho It's kinda Gringe sometimes I always Smile a little cause it reminds me of the good old days ...

So Gues why I am back ? You guessed right !

*NEW FANDOM*

just Looking for some nice Sherlock stuff and a little bit of Benedict Cumberbatch.

Probably gonna repost some stuff and then we will see us in a few years let's see who I am about to fangirl then!

#queen #queendom #queen band #Freddie Mercury #brian may #john deacon #roger taylor #Prince #prince rogers nelson #purple rain #michael jackson #mjj #kingofpop #applehead #die ärzte #farin urlaub #bela b #benedict cumberbatch #cumberbitches #sherlock #sherlolly #sherlockian #john watson #moonwalker #purplearmy

[choicesaprilchallenge]

MASTERLIST || PROMPTS || WELCOME || RULES

Feel free to mix and match with the prompt lists (if you have suggestions, send them my way) or create your own. Feel free to mix and match days, play with pairings, try your hand at a crossover, just be sure to have a delightful time.

Edited for clarification: Schedule is a loose term here. Add your own royals and nobles. Ignore all but two and only create for those as many days as you’d like. I promise, I just want to see and read pretty things and have fun. These are just some suggestions. Event the days are suggestions. Have fun and tag me in it all, that’s all ask!

The Crown & The Flame April 01-06

01: Kenna Rys 02: The Nevrakis (Diavolos, Marco, Luther, Zenobia) 03: Annelyse Adair, Tevan Drammir, Dominic Hunter, Raydan Lykel, Val Greaves 04: Rowan Thorn 05: Azura or Lia 06: Queen Adriana Rys & King Marcellus Rys

The Royal Masquerade/Romance/Heir April 07-10

07: TRM MC 08: The Rhys/Rys (Leo Rys, Liam Rys, Lena Rys, Fabian Rhys) 09: Hana Lee, Maxwell Beaumomt, Olivia Nevrakis, Drake Walker 10: TRR MC or Princess of Cordonia

Desire & Decorum April 11-15

11: Ernest Sinclaire 12: Prince Hamid 13: Bartholomew Chambers 14: Annabelle Parsons 15: Sir Luke Harper

Nightbound & Foreign Affairs April 16-18

16: Lord Elric & Lady Thalissa, Lord Tialo 17: Viscount Garrus 18: NB MC or FA MC 19: Dionne Serrano, Peter Wallace

A Very Scandalous Proposal & The Unexpected Heiress April 19-24

20: Simon/Ava Montjoy 21: John Somerset 22: Francis Somerset, Amelia Hayes 23: Lady Gemma Montjoy 24: AVSP MC or TUH MC

Blades of Light and Shadow April 25-28

25: Prince Aerin Valleros, Baldur Valleros, Arlan Valleros 26: The Starfurys (Tyril Starfury, Valir Starfury, Adrina Starfury, Farin Starfury) 27: Imtura Tal Kaelen, Ventra Tal Kaelen 28: Duchess Xenia, Baron Vostrasz, Countess Zathra, Duke Erthax

Crimes of Passion & The Princess Swap April 29 & 30

29: Trystan Thorne or TPS MCs 30: Marguerite Thorne, Juliana Georgescu, or TPS LIs

#blades of light and shadow #choices desire and decorum #choices tc&tf #choices avsp #choices cop #choices trr #royal n noble april tea party #choicesmonthlychallenge #choicesaprilchallenge #schedule

[gwen-ever]

Deathless (1/3)

Deathless

Fic for the @tolkienrsb event 2021.

Author: gwen-ever (tumblr) gwen-ever (ao3)

Artist: Lathalea (tumblr) Lathalea (ao3)

Fic Rating: M

Warning:  Reincarnation - Angst - References to Illness

Relationships: ThorinxOc - DurinxOc - DurinVIIxOc

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield - Original Female Character - Durin the Deathless - Durin VII - Aule - Yavanna - Balin

Word count: 24458

Artwork rating: G

Artwork Link: Khazad-dûm Reclaimed.

I just want to thank with all my heart the beautiful and lovely @lathalea to always support me and have created the perfect art to make this ff happen. I love you so much girl 💓💓💓

The marketplace to the west of the mines was buzzing with life. Dozens and dozens of dwarves, if not hundreds were running through its corridors, busily passing workshops and shouting at the top of their lungs to attract the attention of passers-by. If there had been one word to describe that moment the caverns of Khazad-dûm would have been: alive.

Yellow light streamed in from the ceiling through the blue drapes and a chorus of voices and chatter filled the air,  with the smell of coal and freshly baked bread.

Thrain dragged his feet, always followed by a handful of men and surrounded by advisors who informed him step by step of any changes that had taken place in the markets in the few days he had not been there, leaving him no time even to understand what had happened at times. In those situations he was truly grateful that Farin, the closest thing he had left to a Father, would help him keep track of every deal by writing down small details or unnoticed events that he would somehow forget. Thrain was neither old nor young, he had a few strands of white hair, but even though he was king of all the clans, he still felt like a novice prince at times, especially within those walls.

Erebor was something else, in a day he was able to go from one side to the other, to go from a council chamber to the forges in less than half an hour knowing every nook and cranny. His ancestral home was instead, as the songs said, an infinite labyrinth of tunnels that they had not yet managed to explore all: Moria. The great kingdom of the dwarves in the Middle Earth, the home of their Fathers, their home.

Every day as he walked through the corridors he saw a new part of it, or he saw a part of it rebuilt and cleaned of the filth of the orcs who had lived there for too long, discovering and rediscovering it again and again, and everyone thanked him for it.

Durin, that is what they called him, Durin the Seventh of his name, had been hailed by his people a few years before, immediately after the great Battle of the Eastern Gate, immediately after he had managed, along with leading the small portion of Erebor's army that remained, to clear the upper halls of the orc legions, reclaiming a part of the kingdom that had never been taken, not even by the expedition led years ago by Balin son of Fundin.

Thrain had soon been surrounded by every surviving dwarf there, some crippled, some covered in blood, some moribund, and they had begun to cheer his name at the top of their lungs after he had accomplished what his Father had wished for all his life. Whether he had succeeded by fate or by his desire to see his people free at last, he did not know, but he knew that he had to do it, and so he did, and was hailed as the reincarnation of their Father for it.

Thrain had not yet become accustomed to that name and in his heart he did not know if he would ever be able to.

When he was just a child from time to time on the coldest nights, he remembered gestures he had never made, he remembered a huge figure looking down on him, he remembered a dwarf woman at his side surrounded by quartz and gold sleeping in his arms, he remembered waking up in a lonely cave and then blood and battles and screams he had never shouted. He would tell his Father about it and every time he told him a new dream he would smile and put him on his lap reassuring him that sooner or later it would all make sense, and in the end it had.

It wasn't like he had ever imagined, it wasn't like the stories his Father told him when he was just a little pebble: he didn't feel different, he didn't feel like another dwarf in someone else's body, he never had, even though everyone was convinced of who he was. Even though being given that name and recognised as the reincarnation of the Great Father of Longbeards honoured him, he still felt like a stranger in his shoes.

There were days when he would stare at himself in the mirror, studying his facial features hoping to see something change in his face or hoping at the same time to recall some memory of his past lives but it never happened, far from it. The more he looked under his black beard, under the wavy black wisps the more, the more he lowered the bags of his eyes looking at the blue irises the more he felt... just himself.

Until, those dreams started right after he left Erebor for good.

He dreamt of fire, of a dragon, of a golden mountain, he dreamt of Erebor destroyed, he dreamt of a pair of dark female eyes, he dreamt of a strange place full of green hills and pastures, he dreamt of giant spiders, of sylvan elves, he dreamt of his grandFather as a young man hugging him on a battlefield and then he dreamt of Ravenhill covered in snow and then of darkness.

More vivid dreams were accumulating with the old ones.

Those dreams haunted him every night, and every night they were worse. There were more and more faces, more and more woods, more and more songs, more and more emotions that did not belong to him, and yet Thrain felt them even when he woke up and continued to feel them throughout the day and they only got worse day by day and just as he woke up that morning with a terrible headache.

Yet to his people, to all his people he was no more than Thrain, son of Thorin III, son of Dain Ironfoot, he was Durin, and would always remain Durin and he hoped in his heart that those dreams would sooner or later become memory, but they had not yet.

"This, my lord, is where we will build the new market hall, as you can see we are still in the process of clearing away the rubble but work will proceed swiftly within a short time," Master Halftan called to his attention, pointing with his finger at the half-destroyed grey marble arches above their heads.

Durin nodded, still deep in thought. "And how long do you think it will take us to complete the work, Master Halftan?" he asked, crossing his arms behind his back.

"A few months my lord Durin," intervened Master Ivar, his coin advisor, "we have dwarves and tools galore and with arms that have come to help us from Iron Hills, I would say a couple of months," he confirmed.

"In three months he will barely dig a hole," Borin whispered in his ear behind him trying not to be heard by anyone but him.

Durin turned his head towards the Head of the Guards, watching the blue eyes twinkle beneath the elaborate blond beard that hid a small grin that he tried to ignore even though he agreed with his words.

 "And what about the residential quarters I've seen the plans for, will they be here, west of the mountain?" he interjected again, shifting his gaze to the two dwarves, "New ones must be built if we are to expand the markets. The dwarves who work here can't move for miles to get to the other side of the mines to go home," he pointed out, blocking their steps in the middle of the corridor.

The group stopped in turn as the busy dwarves passed around him, leaving a few curious glances over-excited by the king's presence in the lower parts of the kingdom.

Durin was glad he hadn't worn his crown for coming down, or the amount of people who would recognise him would multiply.

"After we have completed the markets, a team will take care of that area, my king, more and more settlers are returning to Khazad-Dum and as you have said they need a place to stay," Master Ivar replied to him as the small handful of guards began to spread out protecting him and all interlocutors whatever might come to interrupt their discussion.

"And to work above all," Durin noted, emphasizing his words as much as possible.

Because that was what his people wanted, he didn't just want to build workshops or warehouses, he wanted most of them to be able to live near their workplaces, especially in a realm so immense that they had to traverse it with ponies or goats.

Halftan and Ivar bowed in unison and nodded, "That is why work in the markets will be our first prerogative, my lord Durin," Ivar confirmed, flicking his grey hair.

"And as soon as we're done here, we'll take care of the miners' dwellings, which we'll discuss in more detail tomorrow in council," he repeated with a friendly smile, too friendly for his liking.

To certain political exchanges, he would never get used to, even after the lessons he had been taught: if he could he would have wanted to solve all the problems of the kingdom in the forge, alone.

"First prerogative, did you hear that?" asked Borin in his ear again, chuckling under his moustache as soon as the two councillors started talking about new ones, pointing at the ceiling.

Farin beside him raised his face from his scrolls glowering at his cousin behind him. "Cousin, the situation is difficult. If you keep talking like this it will be even more so!"

"He's right though old Farin, the tasks are many, the timelines are tight, as much as I trust them, they are far too quiet" he admitted crossing his arms over his chest looking at the old dwarf beside him with the huge tattoo in his face.

"See cousin told you so, listen do you want me to be first counselor?Can I Durin?" asked Borin giving him a small friendly pat behind his back.

"It would be the ruin of the house of Longbeards if such a misfortune were to occur," chuckled Farin beside them, starting to walk again as the rest of the council did the same.

As soon as Councillor Ivar moved from his place, however, something above the counter of the shop opposite Durin caught his eye and he stopped walking abruptly. Behind the small picture window on one of the counters of the small workshop of the goldsmith's shop lay a pair of blue leather armguards. They lay among many others, surrounded by belts and small necklaces and rings.

There was nothing special about them, they were not particularly sumptuous or finely stitched, and yet they seemed to him the most beautiful and sumptuous thing he had ever laid eyes on. Beautiful but at the same time so... sad.

He didn't know how, but a deep melancholy gripped his stomach so much that his eyes tingled and the speed of his breathing increased, making his head heavy.

Without realising it, controlled by an invisible force telling him to go on, Durin found himself walking towards the shop window without ever taking his eyes off that single object. He stopped in front of it, looking at the armguards in curiosity: they were made of blue-dyed leather, small stones of smooth red marble decorated an intricate silver decoration on it, carved with skill and a gentleness from another world.  

They seemed familiar, very familiar, he was sure he had never seen them, and yet he was sure he had even touched them: he could feel how rough they were, how they would cling to his arm, he knew that the right strap would get stuck from time to time and that the left one would have to tighten more. A scent of blueberries and wild flowers entered his nostrils as if he were smelling it at that very moment, he felt delicate, fine and gentle fingers around his wrists. They caressed the scars on his skin as they fastened them around his arms, they went up his arm until they touched his shoulder and then his cheek and then finally two small fingers rested on his lips replaced by something much softer and more delicate and innocent and sweet.

His heart drummed in his chest and as if he had awakened from a daydream he looked at his wrists, not noticing nothing around them and then, gently, almost afraid that the wonderful feeling would go away he brushed the tip of his lips with his middle finger. It was only then that he noticed something wet on them. He looked at his finger and a transparent drop was on it: a tear.

Had he been crying?

He felt something move close to his cheek and brought his hand there again, noticing that a second tear had fallen from his eye, followed immediately by another.

He held his breath: there it was again.

The same feeling he had when he woke up, that confusion, that reality that was not real, that need, that desire to scream his doubts at the top of his lungs, that need to tell everyone what he had seen, but this time he was awake and it was happening to him while he was awake.

He clenched his fists as he continued to watch those armguards, heedless of everything that was happening around him, of who might have seen him, or of the reactions he would have provoked with his gesture, but he had to get in there.

"Durin..." Borin called back, flanking him. "Are you all right?"

"Keep walking, I'll catch up with you in a bit," he ordered him walking towards the door of the small shop. "Come back here in ten minutes, if they ask where I am, lie to them," he ordered him directly hiding his face hoping his brother hadn't noticed anything.

He heard Borin huff out a few moans behind his back but finally muttered something like 'I always save your arse' before starting to walk off again shouting for the guards to follow him.

Durin didn't pay much attention to them though, he opened the door and the bell above the door rang revealing to the owner his presence. He looked around wide-eyed for any object that would make him feel the same emotions, but as soon as he entered he was totally immersed without even trying.

The shop was small but incredibly well-stocked with everything he could think of, perhaps even over-stocked.

From the ceiling hung dozens and dozens of chains of different metals, on the wall were shelves filled with rolls of leather and different types of leather and wool. In the middle of the shop there were piles of necklaces, rings, belts and arm guards on display, and on the opposite side of the shop a huge chest of drawers with dozens and dozens of open and closed drawers filled with every kind of precious gem that could exist under the ground.

It was all so messy, but so much so that deep in his chest he knew, indeed he was sure, that there was an order: it was as if he could see it too.

He reached out his ring-filled hand towards the table in the middle of the room, brushing his hands over the wooden table and the jewellery on it: they were all beautiful, filled with precious stones and forged in fine metals, yet none of them, however beautiful, caused him the same reaction as before.

"Here I am, here I am, I'm coming, give me a little moment please,"

A bright, booming voice echoed through the empty shop, a voice so crystal clear and alive that Durin would have compared it to the colour of clear water in winter streams, so melodic and sweet that it immediately caught his attention.

He looked up at the curtain in the back room and behind it he noticed a shadow move and shortly afterwards a stack of boxes and rolls of fabric held together by two small tattooed hands appeared.

"Oh in Durin's name I'm sorry, give me a second," a gentle voice murmured wearily from behind the wooden boxes.

She staggered forward, almost completely covered by the mountain of boxes she was carrying in her arms. "You've come at the wrong time, but if I have to break my neck, I'll be with you immediately!" the voice shouted and began to take out small boxes containing small pearls and diamonds from the pile above her head and carry them to the table.

Suddenly Durin remembered all the lessons in etiquette that he seemed to have forgotten at that moment.

Although a strange feeling made his fingertips tremble, he stepped forward towards the counter extending his hands towards the dwarf lady still hidden from his gaze "My lady, forgive the intrusion, if you will allow me pos-"

"Oh no no I'm with you just give me a moment! Please don't go!" she stopped him suddenly shaking her hand in dissent as she tried to balance the boxes in her arms.

Astonished, he drew his hands back as he watched the dwarf woman pull boxes and boxes from the pile: something made him realize that she hadn't noticed his presence and it made him smile.

He remained silent, watching her as she turned her back to him and began to tidy up all the small boxes and trunks she held on the shelves behind her.A cascade of ringlets appeared in front of him, edged with small golden rings and dozens of small braids hidden in the thick strands.  They looked soft and smooth and perfumed, he could even feel the texture between his fingers: he called himself a fool, he couldn't think of that and yet he couldn't help himself, as well as watching her enchanted as she made those simple gestures.

"Can you pass me that box on the counter?" she asked him without turning around, pointing to a small trunk: the problem was that there were two of them. He was about to ask which one but his words were quickly interrupted. "The red one, the blue one is useless," she said.

"Thank you for pointing that out," he chuckled, unable to contain himself and handing her the small trunk she had indicated.

"Oh you certainly deserve a pint after this delirium!" she thanked him sighing exhausted "and tell me what you were interested in and forgive the back but you know since the new chemists arrived finding decent ink is getting more and more difficult and reading the labels on these shelves has become even more difficult,"

Curious, he looked more closely at the shelves, noticing that all the labels indicating the various materials were almost completely faded "Do you have a problem with them?"

"Only one? I have a dozen! King Durin, worthy of his name, made those mentors from the Blue Mountains come, as if they knew those how to make an ink that can withstand the heat, they live in the snow!" she gesticulated raising his hands in the air as he continued to place the boxes he had previously been holding on the shelves.

"And how would you solve that problem, surely King Durin can't take their business away from them," he exclaimed, not taking her back for what she had said, in fact he didn't care at all.

It was certainly unorthodox what he had done, and yet, that spontaneity, that liveliness, was not like what he was used to and he was genuinely attracted to it.

She giggled as she stretched out an arm and jammed a basket full of threads into a top shelf. "With all the gold coins he has in his treasury I'd tell him to order some good charcoal sticks instead of the crap we have. Maybe he could get them from the Iron Hills!"

"Are you from there?" he asked her, crossing his arms over his chest genuinely curious where such a peculiar dwarf lady had come from.

"My family has lived in the Iron Hills for four generations, and I am a proud Longbeard with a bit of a score to settle in the taverns of the Iron Quarter. Now excuse me, but could you hand me that box? The one that was useless before?" she asked, pointing without turning back to the counter.

A short laugh escaped him as he grabbed it and handed it to her, "Is it useful now?"

"No, it remains useless but I have to take it out and put it away, so it's a useful useless thing," she specified grabbing the box he was handing her.

"Like the ink from the Blue Mountains?"

"Like ink from the Blue Mountains!" she laughed crystal clear, wiping her hands on her soot-stained apron as she gradually turned to face him.

"Oh you really deserve a pint you know my lord, later maybe I could bring you to the tavern next to the shop later if yo-"

But Durin did not hear the rest of the sentence, for as soon as the avalanche of red curls turned it seemed as if the earth had collapsed from under his feet and then rebuilt itself before his eyes in the shape and vision of the creature on which his eyes now rested.

He had fantasised a little earlier about what that dwarf lady would be like, but never, never in his life had he imagined that he would see, beyond a wall of old trunks, such a beautiful creature.

If it was a dream, if it was one of his many dreams, a memory from one of his past lives, he prayed for a few moments that he would never wake up again so as not to stop looking at it.

It was as if every piece of himself, which until that moment had not found a place, found it again in that precise instant.

He opened his mouth slightly as he observed the ethereal, gentle features of the dwarf in front of him, unable to say a word.

He must have looked like a fool, because she actually raised a dark eyebrow as she looked down at him.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked, touching her reddish cheek surrounded by tiny freckles.

As if shaken by a dream Durin shook his head immediately trying to save himself from that embarrassment.

 "N-no absolutely not, forgive my insolence, I didn't mean to offend you, my lady".

"Forgive my insolence? You're not from around here, are you?" she asked amused, looking up at him again.

He lowered his gaze in embarrassment smiling out of the side of his mouth, "No, no my lady I'm not from around here," he told her.

"Oh well it shows, yet you look familiar you know? But I have no idea where I've seen you before, and yet I remember faces very well," she asked, crossing her arms over her shapely chest as she looked at him more closely "Yes, you definitely look familiar, are you sure you're not from around here?" she asked, walking over the counter continuing to look at him, narrowing her dark gaze.

Durin thought he knew her too, but he didn't, his dreams told him about the past of other lives not his own, and he was sure he would have remembered seeing her anyway, yet he knew he had seen her... even touched her.

He found himself obliged, however, to shake his head again, "If we had met before, you can be sure I would have remembered instantly,"

"So shall we start with introductions again?" she winked at him before giving a huge, theatrical bow making all the beads in her hair jingle "My name is Ylva daughter of Yngvar, welcome to my workshop..." she paused looking down at him.

Durin was tempted to say his real name but recoiled biting his lower lip "Thrain, just Thrain is fine, my lady,"

Ylva looked at him confused but finally nodded smiling "Welcome to my workshop Thrain, son of unknown" she laughed raising her back in one movement "What, may I ask, brought you here to me, anything in particular? And don't tell me it's to ask for ink!" she winked.

Durin held back a laugh and shook his head, "No, I'm sorry, it's not that, I actually came in to..."

He froze suddenly: that was a good question, why had he come in? It was hard to explain it to himself, to imagine explaining it to someone else. To meet the person who had created the object that had messed up his mind so much would be the right answer, but she had messed up his head even more than before: it was an unanswerable question.

He decided to skip the explanations and pointed to the display case behind him. "I wanted to know who made that pair of beautiful leather armguards, they're unique, I have to admit," he explained without going into too much detail.

Ylva looked over his shoulder at where he was pointing, "The blue arm guards?" she asked, "Oh well, I made those! They're one of my most successful pieces of work, in fact they were the result of a sudden burst of inspiration, if you can call it that," she replied proudly, pointing at them with her hand.

Durin nearly opened his mouth wide and thanked the self-control and coolness he had developed over the years for this not happening.

He was sure they had been made by an elderly craftsman, by a dwarf of extreme experience, skill and seniority: they were so beautiful that not even in Erebor had he seen such and such, not in two ages would he have imagined that the craftsman who had made them was the auburn-haired dwarf in front of him.

"Are you really telling the truth?" he asked, his eyes wide.

The girl raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, clearly displeased by his words, "Now I could be the one getting offended, you know."

"No, please forgive my reaction, it's just that they're... magnificent."

He tried to save himself from that bad situation but he had never been a good politician, in fact he had never been negotiable on that front. In fact the dwarf lady raised her eyebrow even more but then sketched a smile probably noticing his clumsiness.

"You're not improving your situation Thrain, but I appreciate the compliment anyway," 

Durin sighed heavily, terribly embarrassed "I have never been good with words ever my lady, you must forgive me, I am not a delicate dwarf,"

"It shows, you know?" she answered him bluntly.

He chuckled "Are you this sincere with all your customers?"

"Only with those that are to my liking."

"I'm grateful then that I'm perhaps one of the ones you like best of all," he chuckled, this time dropping the last bit of himself that still bound him to his role as king and heir of Durin.

And he was grateful for it, for Ylva burst into a crystal-clear laugh, so light that it seemed to him that the air around him had taken shape and was caressing the skin beneath his thick beard and then slipping under it and removing all his scars from around his heart.

He was glad he had made her laugh, perhaps too glad, but he had an unexpected urge to do it again.

Shaking her head, Ylva mumbled something to herself, and still with red cheeks and wiping away a small tear of joy, she walked past him towards the shop window, beckoning him to follow her.

"The design came into my mind as I was working, they basically created themselves," she explained, carefully taking the two armguards in her hands, so delicately that for a moment he wondered if she wasn't handling an elven crystal.

"An inspirational blessing from Mahal then?" he asked her, approaching her in turn.

Ylva nodded, laying one of the arm guards on the counter in the middle of the shop and holding only one to show him closer.

"It's one of those rare instances where it's happened to me, yes, Mahal's inspiration helped me a lot I must say," she confirmed, extending it towards him. "Please take it, you don't want to just look at them,"

Durin, however, watched it for a few moments before taking it into his hands: it was as he had perceived it outside, exactly as he thought and remembered it to be. She ran her hands over it, brushing her fingertips over the intricate geometric pattern in silver and lingering with her fingertips on the smooth stones of it.

"Marble?" he asked her.

She shook her head, watching the movement of his fingers in curiosity, "Rose quartz,"

A few moments of silence passed in which Durin tried to feel the same emotions he had felt when he had seen them, yet it did not happen, he no longer felt that cascade of emotions, yet he knew he had felt them as he knew he had seen that part of the armour before.

"May I have your permission to help you put it on my lord?" asked Ylva pointing first to his arm and then to the arm guard.

Without protesting he extended his arm towards her, lifting the sleeve of his velvet chainmail to help her slip it on. Ylva took the arm guard in her hands before undoing the buckles and gently placing it around his shirt.

Durin felt her fingers brush his wrist in a gesture so soft it sent a myriad of shivers down his body. A rush of shivers ran up his arm and he involuntarily closed his eyes slightly, savouring the moment to the full.

It wasn't the first time a dwarf lady had touched him, and he had been touched by them in far more places over and over again, yet in that moment he felt like a little lad. His cheeks lit up, his heart hammered in his chest, and without realising it he stepped closer to her, almost towering over her in height, almost feeling her breath on his neck. A smell of blueberries and wildflowers entered his nose and that memory from earlier became even more vivid, as if he was living it in that moment, but it was not possible, not possible at all.

A part of him was telling him to stop her, another part was telling him to brush her lips curled in concentration.

What was happening to him?

"So you are not the only one to give me a gift for this occasion, my prince,"

His heart stopped in his chest and he looked at her confused, blinking several times. "What did you say?"

"I said you have small wrists for your size, you know?" she remarked, smiling at him out of the side of her mouth, never taking her eyes off the laces she was fastening.

No, she hadn't said that sentence, or had she? He was so confused at that moment that he couldn't say what he had heard, but he knew he had to try to remain as calm as possible. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, and tonight would be worse.

"You on the other hand have delicate hands for a goldsmith, if I may say so," he answered her forcing a small smile hiding his agitation

"I wanted to be a blacksmith when I was little, but my bones are too weak, or so they told my mother when I was born..." gradually her tone became weaker and the small everlasting smile on her mouth faded away "that I wouldn't survive the first months of my life, but here I am, with very small and delicate hands that I had to train for a long time," she explained to him.

He looked at her fingertips tattooed with small runes and intricate geometric designs representing her home: a hammer and an anvil. She came from a family of blacksmiths, also very important judging by the number of diamonds tattooed on her knuckles.

Ylva shuddered slightly, closing the last strap and looking up at him, blushing from her forehead to her chin, and with a quick gesture she put her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry!" she apologised, stammering, "Forgive me, I... I don't even know why I told you, sometimes I have too long a tongue and I embarrassed you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!"

"Don't be embarrassed, I haven't been embarrassed and it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I have told you about my life and with all due respect I barely know your name, I must have seemed very rude to you, already more than I am," she giggled nervously as she looked up at him.

Durin sighed, shaking his head as he couldn't control his words, "You're the most honest and true person I've spoken to in months if I'm being honest," he admitted.

Ylva opened and closed her mouth before smiling at him affably and lowering her gaze in embarrassment. "Then may I tell you that I wish all my customers were as courteous and friendly as you are?" she asked in turn, meeting his eyes again.

Durin got lost in those black pits and did not want to return: he watched her in silence, waiting for something that even he could not explain. There were only their breaths in the air, nothing more, and yet there was no awkwardness as there should have been, only silence, a sweet silence in which Ylva's hands clasped even more gently around his arm and he came even closer to her.

The whole thing lasted only a couple of seconds and yet Durin swore he felt the world stop and go back ages, years and years to the beginning of time.

"I will find you again in every single one of my lives Frea, I swear, even if I have to live a thousand years without you. I will find you as soon as I wake up again, my love."

"My Lord Durin, it is time to go, we cannot be late!"

With a jolt Durin shifted his gaze away from the dwarf lady's, interrupting that stream of memories and confused thoughts, and abruptly moving it towards the shop door and the blows dealt on it.

"D-durin?" Ylva looked up at him wide-eyed, immediately moving a couple of steps away from him, stammering words that made no sense before another knock on the door caused her to jerk her gaze towards the door in turn.

"We have to go, brother, they're asking for you, time to get out of there!" Borin muttered again from behind the door causing him to grit his teeth.

He damned him in that moment, as he cursed not revealing to her who he really was in front of her fearful and astonished gaze as she walked away from him step by step.

"Thrain... son of Thorin... Durin..." he heard her utter as he went to slam his lower back against the table in the middle of the room.

"Ylva, I'm, I'm sorry, I'm really..."

"In Durin's name...I, I I..." she stammered through her red fleshy lips shyly. "I mean in your name, I mean in the name of you, in your name, Durin," she continued to stammer, it was hard for him not to reach out to her to try and calm her down by taking her hands "Oh for the name of Dur-, dammit!" she pressed both hands to her face in embarrassment as she leaned forward in a quick and awkward bow "Oh I am so so sorry please forgive me, my king, your majesty, I am so sorry, I am sorry" she murmured over and over.

"No please it is I who must apologise to you, you have nothing to apologise for," he reassured her  "You have said nothing to displease me,"

"I knew I knew you! I knew I had seen you before! What I said before, what I said to you was unforgivable, I didn't think that... I'm so sorry," she muttered again against her palms before raising her face in shame to his, "You made a good choice, I swear! The ink from the Blue Mountains is the best I've ever used!" she explained quickly, eating her words bit by bit as she tried to justify her sincerity just now.

If only she had known how much he actually appreciated it.

He nodded trying not to look at her indiscreetly, "I appreciate the sincerity you've shown me although I think if you'd known it was me you wouldn't have told me,"

"Of course I wouldn't have told you!" she interrupted as she looked up, once again turning red with embarrassment, "you are, you are well... well you!" she stated pointing at him with the palm of her hand.

A smile escaped Thorin's lips, " Because I am me?" he asked, arching an eyebrow upwards.

"Because... because you... because you cannot be offended and then think badly of me or my works or... me again!" she retorted in a quick voice, looking around in fear before sighing heavily, running a hand through her thick, rust-coloured hair.

"I thought everything about you but bad, from the first to the last sentence you addressed me you were impeccable and friendly towards me,"

"But you, my lord, my king..."

"Brother hurry up, they're coming!" the voice of Borin rang through the shop again and Durin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He counted to three so as not to yell at him to remain silent and let him finish this conversation that seemed to him one of the most difficult he had ever accomplished in his life.

Ylva jumped again at the knock and quickly walked over to him and picked up the other arm guard that was left on the table.

She gently raised the palm of her hand to him and placed it on them making a small bow with her head "Please take them, they are yours, accept it as a gift from me to you."

Durin looked at his hand and shook his head. "No, I can't accept them, I don't have any coins on me and I don't want you to feel any obligation to me,"

Ylva wrinkled her nose again in confusion as she continued to hold the arm guard firmly in her hands, "Do you realise who  you are now I wonder? The silver coins you owe me, you can take them out of my taxes if it makes you happier!" she retorted and in one gentle gesture she closed the sting with both hands around the arm guard "Please, do this for me," she whispered looking at him pleadingly.

Under that gaze, he was about to accept, but he couldn't, he didn't want her to act like that with him just because she knew his true identity now. It would be petty and dishonourable and besides, he didn't want her to have any obligations to him.

Durin shook his head and placed the palm of his free hand on his two youngest enjoying the smooth skin under his fingers "No Ylva, I can't accept it, I want to be treated like a normal dwarf, if not by the others then at least by you and that's not normal,"

"Then accept them as a gift from me, please!"

He shook his head again, "I don't think I can do that either, it wouldn't be fair to you."

"Yes it would!" she retorted, slamming her foot down and squeezing his hand even tighter, "you were one of the best clients I've ever had, I've told you before, and who you are doesn't change! Please take them!" she insisted, "I saw the way you looked at them and I assure you I would have done the same for anyone else."

"My lady, you have been very kind, but I don't think I..."

"I won't take no for an answer, you should know that!" she accused herself in a firm tone, crossing her arms over her chest "Take it as a gratitude!"

"A gratitude for what?"

She shrugged with a cheeky grin "For handing me the chests on the table of course."

"Durin I'm telling you one last time, get out of there brother!"

Durin looked up at the door again and gently loosened the grip of his hands from Ylva's, but she kept all her warmth with her and carefully untied the arm guard from his arm.

Ylva watched sadly as she handed them both to him and even more sadly when she was forced to grasp them in her hands, already knowing his answer.

Durin would have regretted that gesture but his body acted on its own and to tell the truth at that moment it seemed the right thing to do, the best thing and the thing he wanted to do at that moment.

Gently he grabbed one of her small hands and carefully brought it close to his mouth, placing a small kiss on her knuckles, reverently.

He felt her shiver under his lips and her cheeks almost became the same colour as her hair: it was not proper for him to do such a thing but at that moment all the decorum could go and rot.

She bit her lip nervously, looking first at him and then at his hand.  "W-will you come back then?" she asked him and Durin heard a tinge of hope in the tone of her voice.

He stroked her fingertips and nodded, "If you would still have me as a client, I would be extremely happy, my lady."

Her mouth arched into a smile, one of those smiles that until recently had made his ankles tremble, one so tender and sweet it could melt the heart of any warrior he had ever met, including his own.

"I take that as a promise... Thrain," she said.

The music was loud, the banquet hall was filled with dwarves and dwarf ladies who had come for the biggest feast in thirty years, ale and food were carried on both flanks past full tables and couples and groups dancing in the middle of the hall to the ever increasing music.

Although the party was in his honour Thorin barely listened to the discussions around him, just as he tried to ignore Dwalin beside him who was downing pint after pint forcing his brother to do the same.

He drank, he ate and yet he stood still taking on all those discussions and conversations of convenience that he didn't want the birthday girl to have to endure.

He watched her dance, looking away from a Blacklocks basher who engaged him in a discussion about trading gold for coal with his Father.

She moved in a circle, she had two raven clips in her hair, her blue and silver dress wrapped around her body accentuating all her shapes and illuminating even more the cascade of auburn hair that, though styled, reached almost to her waist.

She stopped and looked at him, smiled and made a small bow, making red locks intertwined with each other fall on her face. She did not say anything to him, she did not invite him to dance with her because she knew he would refuse, but that did not stop her from dancing again and drinking the glass of wine she was holding. His won iron-hardened nature did not extinguish her fire, which continued to burn and illuminate every corner of the Mountain.

His flame, the dwarven princess he would marry, the dwarf woman he had found himself loving even though he had never planned to meet her in his life.

He looked down at the arm guards he wore on his wrists, remembering her touch when she fastened them just before their engagement feast, before all that commotion broke out, and the promise she repeated to him every time, every night he took her back to her rooms.

Sylvi was his and Thorin was her’s and there would be nothing to change that, not now, not until he reigned under the Mountain in the years that were to follow.

Durin brought his hands to his face, rinsing the sleep from his eyes and the rest of his face with a little cold water. The cold droplets trickled down to his belly, dripping noisily into the golden tub in front of him and settling into his thick raven beard.

Still with his eyes closed, he grabbed the towel at his side and wiped his face with it before walking towards the centre of the room, where a hearty breakfast had already been served shortly before. Wiping his hands dry, he ignored it, taking only a grape, and looked at the myriad of documents that were placed further along on the same table: plans and requests for trade alternated in piles, and on top of them reigned all the paperwork that he would have to deal with during the day, at the top of which reigned the assignment of the new department heads in the mines and the division of the mithril to be sent to the Seven Kingdoms.

It was not going to be an easy day, but with a fresh mind, ideas began to pop into his head as to how he could sort out all those problems in the shortest possible time; if his Father had still been alive, he would have laughed at him.

With a sigh he reached for another grape and at that very moment there was a knock at the door of his room. He swallowed it quickly and grabbed his vest, putting it on and inviting the intruder in.

Borin popped up from behind the threshold waving a set of scrolls in the air and holding them in his hand many more giggling to himself.

"Good morning brother, well awake your majesty!" he teased, closing the door behind him with a kick.

Durin fastened his silk vest as he rolled his eyes trying to ignore his thinly veiled comment.

"What do you want early in the morning brother?" he asked, walking back to the table, finally pouring himself a cup of black tea.

Borin opened his blue eyes wide and brought a hand to his chest.

"Is this how the great Durin greets a humble messenger? I don't carry sorrows, these do!" he muttered and with a grunt of fatigue and dropped the papers on the table along with all the other yellowed, ink-stained papers.

Durin squinted as he took another sip from the cup in his hand, watching the stacks in front of him grow taller and taller, something he would have preferred to avoid.

"New missives arrived overnight as you can see," he announced to him, fiddling with a couple of unopened letters and checking the recipients, "The ravens didn't stop cawing until dawn, or so I'm told, Aslaugh was snoring like a rusty press this morning, she had to stay up late into the night."

Durin arched an eyebrow as a slight apprehension tightened in his chest, "Is my nephew alright?"

His brother nodded, simply shrugging his shoulders before taking a seat in one of the chairs, crossing both legs over a section of the table free of any objects. "Gorin is hungry and wakes up most nights and there's little I can do about it," he explained, grabbing a piece of toast and taking a voracious bite.

However Durin's apprehension did not diminish, "Would you like to come and sleep on this floor, you know there is no lack of servants," he asked, placing the cup on the table.

"Aslaugh hates royal rooms, especially here in Moria, we'll settle in when everything else is finished, for now the flats in the lower wings are perfect, especially with a screaming pebble,"

Durin made an unconvinced expression: he knew his brother well enough to know that court life had never appealed to him, and though he often justified his choice by Aslaug's lower class, it was well evident to him, as well as Farin and all of Moria that it was more him who wanted to live as simply as he could.

"You know you are the most welcome right?" he asked again, placing both fists on the table.

Borin  nodded unconcernedly before glancing down at the table and grinning out of the side of his mouth. "Oh well since I'll have a lady of your own occupying them in a moment I'm sure you'll take those words back," he retorted, blinking and pursing his lips.

Durin tilted his head to the side, not understanding what he was referring to: the proposal of marriage to the daughter of the Lord of the Firebeards had not yet gone through, which lady was he talking about?

Faced with his confusion his grin widened even more and without ever taking his eyes off her he lifted a couple of letters pulling out from under them a red wrapper held together by a thread of dark leather, "Oh so you don't know anything about this?  You mean to tell me you don't know what I'm talking about?" he asked, flicking it in the air.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Borin, nor what that is!" he told him in an altered voice casting a quick glance towards the bag.

"Oh really?" he asked raising his eyebrows "I'm told that a very wonderful dwarf lady waited on the stairs before the entrance to the palace before dawn and begged the guards at the entrance for a good two hours to give you this package," he groaned extending his arm towards him "Are you sure you don't know who I'm talking about?" he asked again.

Durin looked first at his brother and then at the bag, trying to process the information his brother had just told him, not understanding what he was referring to and having no idea who was the dwarf lady he was referring to was and even if he did know, he wouldn't have told him.

Curious, however, he took the package in his hands and noticed a seal that sealed the already broken package "It's already open".

Durin glanced to him disappointed.

"I had to," Borin replied looking at him as he untied the string "you know no, protocol, but they are beautiful, I'm almost envious,"

Borin didn't even have time to finish his sentence that Durin nearly widened his eyes as he unrolled the leather roll looking at its contents.

His heart hammered in his chest and again the smell of blueberries and wildflowers entered his nostrils, an avalanche of red hair obscured his vision and a small smile lit up his soul as a pair of blue armguards lay in his hand.

No, she hadn't taken no for an answer at all.

#thorin #thorin oakenshield #thorin ff #theh hobbit #the hobbit ff #the hobbit fan fiction #thorin x oc #thorin oakenshield x oc #trsb #trsb21 #trsb 2021 #durin #durin the deathless #durin 7 #durin iv #durin vii #aule #yavanna #lathalea

[mrkida-art]

Some young! Prince Farin sketches

#my art #the hobbit #farin #farin son of borin #dwarves of ered mithrin #dwarves of erebor #erebor #the line of durin #tolkien #lotr #dwarves #durin's folk #the lord of the rings #longbeards #the royal line of durin #tolkien dwarves #thrór #grór #grór lord of the iron hills #thrór king under the mountain #sketch

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 13 February 1840

8 ¼

12 40/..

breakfast at 9 50/.. – before and since till now 10 50/.. wrote all but the 1st 18 lines of yesterday – very fine morning R13 ½° now at 10 50/.. a.m. tea and coffee excellent – slices of smoked bologna sausage – good – ready the instant called for – little cakes on the tray as last night – slept comfortably – a servant gone off to Macarief [Makar’evo] to have the convent open for us – no! the man, apparently a sort of under-steward, drove off in a Kibtika and pair just before (at the same time with) us, and went about with us everywhere – R-29° when we set out at 11 25/..

they call it 5 versts across the river to Macarief [Makar’evo] – did not go direct across – drove along a narrow stream but coasting an island for some distance till we turned the point of the island (behind which a little fleet of vessels frozen up) and had the picturesque monastery full in view – wall round, and round towards at the corners – picturesque square tower gateway in the  middle between 2 round towers in the front towards us – and 2 churches with each their 5 domes seem behind the gateway, and a tall handsome pointed clocher – the wooden town, the natural weathered wood – no paint or wash to brighten it up .:. looks old, and unfrequented – at the monastery in ½ hour at 11 55/.. – a monk in readiness – shewed us first the winter church – au 1er. (magazines of flour etc. below) low and warm – shewed us the rich robes de prête – and 2 archimandite caps thick with pearls and a few precious stones – the more valuable worth 20,000/. – then to the summer lofty walls of the interior entirely covered with fresco painting that wants renewing – enormous pillars round up to the top all covered with painting – 4 different chapels at the bottom of each room with gilt columns and baldaquins rich but done about 40 years ago and too modern for the rest of the church – this church shews one that the principal dome and the 2 little domes at the entrance end light the church – the 2 domes at the other end light the part behind the Iconostase which generally goes up to the top close under the edge of the great dome – then to the chapel of St. Macarief [Makar’evo] – light, inside all painted over as usual – pretty chapel – several pictures representing the history of this saint bron at Nijeni Novgorod [Nižnij Novgorod] – then looked about – the great gateway mentioned above has a little church or chapel over it – saw one of the cells of the monks – a small strip of a room with a less one alongside that held his bed – a stove to heat each – the archimandaite abbot could only speak Russian .:. sent compliments and did not see him – an hour there and off at 12 55/.. A- starved drove as near the old site of the fair as the much snow would let us – a large handsome looking building with heptastyle or octostyle portico and pediment, and a large pile of other building now [?] no use of standing in the middle of what used to be surrounded with Q.S. of wood erections – the town a mere unpainted village – not a good house to be seen in it – drove right across the magnificent river – 1 verst broad just opposite to Macarief [Makar’ev], and 10v. when debordé – several islands covered with salley bushes – in ¾ hour (at 12 40/..) alighted at the handsome church of the Assumption finished a year ago built by the prince of Georgia – much handsome gilding of columns and handsome grape-pattern prestole doors all done by the princes’ people here – all done by them except the painting done at Moscow of the faces etc. of the pictures – very pretty church a tetrastyle portico and pediment at each of the 4 (I think) fronts – then to the fabrique of Eau de vie at 2 5/.. – make 500 hogsheads a year – besides the 14 mills along the ridge of the hill seen from the river there are 30 or 40 more mills on the platform of this

SH:7/ML/E/24/00014

high ground – went down into a little basin-like hollow to the fabrique – they work up 40 sacks of farine de seigle par jour, and a sack at a rough guess judging from what they said would = at least 5 bushels – they said afterwards they made 25 hogsheads a day i.e. 25 Hogsheads from 40 sacks of flour – different qualities of brandy (Vodki) from ./60 per bottle to 4/. (about 1 quart bottle – at least 8 of these bottles = 1 vedro and 3 vedros = 1 case, and not less than a case sold here) – I tasted some darkish coloured good mild brandy at 2/50 per bottle and tasted afterwards some of the white hot fiery spirit from the turyaux as it ran from the still - such a thick fog in the place, could see nothing – all the sides of the wood walls within and everything covered not with flour, but with snow – singular appearance – the heat of the fabrique and R30° of cold without produced this fog and snow within – great quantity of absinthe (Artemisia) hanging up in bundles from the beams of the roof in one of the places – use this to make what George called bitter brandy – omitted to ask how many people employed – but saw ½ dozen women washing bottles (1/2 as well as 1 quart bottles) and I should think 20 or 30 men in all – they said the hot stuff I saw in troughs dehors and looking thick and yellowish was given to the cows and horses, very fond of its and became fat upon it – I could not see what power turned the great wheel that works the farine with the water in the [?] trough into which it is poured from a sort of hopper – I saw them light a large sort  of oven or furnace – is it steam that turns the wheel? I saw no horses anywhere – but probably perhaps horses are employed – difficult to get information thro’ George – then to a machine making shop the prince bought of count de Broglie who married a princess Troubetskoi disagreed with and left him – returned to France and sold his fabrique – saw nothing worth going to see there – a few wheels, common turn-wheels – and a large wheel like Jacksons’ for turning machinery to make cutlery they said – A- so cold she began to cry .:. hurried home and came in at 3 20/.. then dinner in 10 minutes or less, and over at 4 – found porter, port and 2 white wines on the table and they brought Madeira tasted none of them – and then they brought a ½ bottle Rhine wine excellent Stemberger from Cornill Francfort – then they brought Bishoff (rather too much of the Seville orange in it) then Malaga (refused) then the maître d’hotel filled me a glass (A- refused)

of excellent champagne, which, as everyone does in Russia, I let stand till the last, and till it [upness] was gone down then coffee – we had had soup and pâtés – a joint (what?) of veal with a very thin feuille of ham inserted all under the skin! good – then côtolettes de veau – then a rôti of game gelinottes excellent and apparently small squarry pieces of veal – then a sort of little round savoy biscuit 2 with preserved whole white currants between – then preserved white raspberries and preserved thin slices of lemon, all excellent – then had George and the courier settling what to do – determined to stay all night here, and be off at 6 (6 ½) in the morning after a cup of tea at 6 – the courier said that in consequence of (something) horses since Nijeni [Nižnij] and forwards will be ./6 each per v. instead of ./5. How is this? wrote out marche route for tomorrow – the one I had and paid 5/. for the P.O. not right for winter and going on the river! – A- queer and starved and out of sorts  had to set get her right sat some time idle till candles at 6 – and tea at 7 – before and after wrote note to be left with maître d’hotel tomorrow morning of thanks etc. “à monsieur Le prince George de Georgie” and settled accounts and had Donna, and wrote the whole of today till now 11 ¾ p.m. ought to have been in bed – very fine clear cold day – R14° on my table as I sit writing now at 11 ¾ p.m. – our room about 9x7 yards 2 stoves and 2 doors, and one window in 3 divisions (about 15sq. feel of glass) and room perhaps 9ft. high – but being so large, it looks low – very comfortable here – we have about 6 menservants in attendance – 3 sofas, 10 arm and 5 smaller chairs – 2 tables and one little commode, and one out of a nest of tables, and one looking glass nearly 3ft. by 18in. of mirror and near it the little pénate (household image) – a brick house of no great pretension outside – we have seen no room but this and our anteroom leading to it – but Grâce au prince George de Georgie for all our comfort and good doings -

[kaantt]

34 pour Bohort et Léodagan ?

Le roi de Carmélide descendit les petites marches qui permettaient de se rendre dans les cuisines de Kaamelott. Il poussa un soupir fatigué, le prince de Gaunes lui avait demandé de le rejoindre dans cette pièce après le déjeuner qu'il devait partager avec son gendre et le reste de sa famille. Il était ravi de pouvoir passer du temps avec son compagnon mais il redoutait l'activité que celui-ci allait lui proposer.

« Vous êtes là Bohort ? Demanda le roi de Carmélide.

-Oui seigneur Léodagan ! Je suis là. »

Le prince de Gaunes était installé devant une des tables. Le bois de celle-ci était recouvert de farine. Bohort était en train d’étaler une pâte jaunâtre dans la farine, la pliant et la repliant pour la rendre plus fine et souple. Ses mains élégantes étaient couvertes de poudre blanche. Il tourna son visage vers le seigneur Léodagan et lui adressa un sourire radieux. Celui-ci s'approcha de son compagnon et lui demanda d'une voix curieuse :

« Qu'est-ce que vous cuisinez ?

-Une tarte ! »

La bouche du roi de Carmélide se tordit dans une moue dégoutée. Il n'aimait pas particulièrement les tartes. Du moins il n'aimait les tartes de sa femmes. Enfin, les tartes de sa femme... Il n'était pas certain que ces choses méritaient réellement le nom de tartes. Le seigneur Bohort observa la mine de son amant avec inquiétude.

« La chose n'a pas l'air de vous plaire seigneur Léodagan... N'aimez-vous pas les tartes ? Bégaya Bohort d'une petite voix tremblante.

-Si elles sont comme celles de ma femme non. »

Bohort retint un léger rire affectueux. Il avait goûté une fois les tartes de Dame Séli et, effectivement, dans ses souvenirs elles n'étaient pas particulièrement savoureuses. Il posa tendrement sa main sur l'épaule de son amant et déclara d'une voix douce :

« Je peux vous assurer que mes tartes n'ont rien à voir avec celles de Dame Séli ! La recette me vient de ma mère et elle n'a jamais déçu personne. Tout le monde aime cette recette de tarte. »

Le seigneur Léodagan haussa légèrement ses épaules. Il voulait bien croire le seigneur Bohort mais il gardait ses craintes quant au goût de la tarte qu'ils allaient confectionner. Il réfléchissait, se demandant s'il allait aider ou non le seigneur Bohort pour faire de la pâtisserie. Pendant ce temps, ce dernier avait repris la confection de son dessert. Il coupait ses fraises soigneusement en deux. Après quelques instants passés dans le silence, Bohort se retourna vers le roi de Carmélide.

« Vous ne voulez pas m'aider à la faire je suppose... »

Le prince de Gaunes tenait une petite fraise dans sa main droite. Cette vision arracha un sourire attendri au seigneur Léodagan. Il lui demanda une nouvelle fois :

« Vous me promettez qu'elle n'a rien à voir avec les tartes de ma femme ?

-Je vous le jure seigneur Léodagan.

-Bon dans ce cas j'accepte. »

Le roi de Carmélide vint s'installer aux côtés du prince de Gaunes, attrapa un couteau et se mit à couper les fraises avec son compagnon. Une fois que toutes les fraises furent coupées, ils commencèrent à les disposer sur la pâte à tarte. Le roi de Carmélide balançait presque les fraises fraîchement coupées dans le plat.

« Vous voulez bien essayer de disposer les fraises un peu plus- Tenta timidement Bohort.

-Un peu plus quoi ? Elles vous reviennent pas mes fraises ? Grogna le roi de Carmélide.

-Elles sont très bien ! Mais pouvez-vous les poser sur la pâte avec un peu plus de délicatesse ? »

Léodagan poussa un grognement rageur mais ne protesta pas plus que cela. Il se mit à disposer avec soin les fraises sur la pâte à tarte sous le sourire affectueux de son compagnon. Ils placèrent la tarte dans le four et attendirent un long moment. Quand la cuisson fut achevée Bohort s'empressa d'aller la récupérer. Il apparut aux côtés du roi de Carmélide, la tarte aux fraises entre ses mains.

« Vous voulez prendre une part de tarte ? »

Le roi de Carmélide lança un petit coup d’œil au plat que le prince tenait entre ses mains. La tarte semblait parfaitement parfaitement comestible.

« S'il-vous-plaît. » Répondit le seigneur Léodagan.

Bohort lui adressa un sourire rassuré avant de poser son plat sur la table de bois massif. Il coupa deux parts de tarte et en tendit une au roi. Celui-ci mordit prudemment dans le dessert.

« Alors ? Demanda le prince de Gaunes, inquiet.

-Elle est très bonne. »

Le sourire du prince de Gaunes s'agrandit en entendant les mots rassurants du roi de Carmélide. Celui-ci posa sa main libre sur celle du chevalier plus jeune et murmura :

« Merci Bohort. »

Celui-ci tourna sa main sous celle du roi de Carmélide, leurs paumes chaudes se rencontrèrent. Les joues du roi de Carmélide rosirent légèrement. Leurs doigts étaient liés tendrement.

#kaantt writes #bohort #léodagan

[bladesappreciationweek]

Resources for Day Five: The Realm of Light

From Prince Aerin to Farin Starfury, the Realm of Light is full of inspiration! Looking for something off the beaten path? You could illustrate some of the old Myths, make an edit of a mythical beastie, or tell of a story about that overly-attractive side-character we were blessed with for a single scene. The possibilities are endless! 

Assembled Transparents | Lore 

Quotes: 

”There’s so much wonder and beautiful in the realms, [MC]. It’d be a shame if you didn’t experience it all.” Mal

Characters: 

Kade | Threep | The Royal Family | The Starfurys | Kaya | Ellara and Xiaus | Skull Crusher & Ventra Tal Kaelen | Mermaid | Voxper

signal boosts appreciated

Prince Aerin:

“It’s not just that he’s the oldest. He’s also the favorite. Handsome, bold, outgoing...a great hunter and warrior...nothing like me. 

“At least i have my books. I love reading of all the realms, even if I rarely get a chance to visit them.”

“Is it really so hard to believe? My reflexes are well-honed after a life with him as my brother.”

“I’ve learned how to defend myself...I just wish I’d started defending others sooner.”

“I’ve already accepted my place. And it’s in my brothers shadow.”

“The scholars of White Tower say that once something is lost, it cannot be restored. Once something’s corrupted, it’s impossible to bring it back to the Light.”

“You know, this is all extremely un-princely of me.”

“it’s silly but I used to believe there must be some kind of magic that could make my brother like me, or my parents notice me.”

“I fear there are more trials to come. For all of us...”

“Dearest brother, may I suggest paying the terrifying orc mercenary what she’s owed?”

“Until the stars align for us again...”

“As far as princes go, you’re not half bad.” Mal

Threep

“Every day my wisdom is valued less and less around here.”

“It’s true, we’re pampered little things.”

“I am quite a gift, aren’t I?”

“May I remind you that I am a nesper, imbued with nearly two millenia of wisdom, from a far more glorious age than you can even imagine?”

“Offerings of food are always acceptable. Elven cream cakes and honey-wine, perhaps?

“I’m not a prude. I simply don’t understand why you people must burden the mating process with all that messy...kissing and such.”

“I somehow imagined nespers would be more...majestic.” Tyril

“Fine, but when you wake up in the middle of the night and find the adorable cat-bat gnawing on your face, don’t come crying to me.” Mal

“Wait, ‘Exalted One’? The cat?” Imtura

Adrina Starfury:

“I’m this one’s little sister. Though he likes to pretend he’s an old child.”

[To Duchess Xenia] “We are nothing like you!” 

“It was Adrina who attacked Duchess Xenia when she had us all under her spell. It was Adrina who saved us all. She is the future of House Starfury.” Tyril

“I swear, if you’re more excited about the nesper than me...” Tyril

Lord Valir Starfury

“My son. I thought you were dead. We all did. That you’d been overcome with the same and...and...”

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen both my children smiling at the meal table.”

“Adrina, you are a worthy heir to my house.” 

Farin Starfury:

“You cannot trust anyone outside our house, son of my blood. Did you not learn that at your father’s knee?”

“You cannot trust in friendship, nor love, nor vows of loyalty, only to the strength of our house and our blood.”

“The Lords of Starfury do not flee. You cannot show cowardice before the other houses.”

“[MC] is right, honored ancestor. It is my friendships, my love for my friends that will let me restore our house. Not posturing and competition.” Tyril

Kaya Duskraven: 

“She was humble, funny, compassionate. She cared deeply for those in need, and always kept my ego in check. She helped me see how to be a better person. She opened my eyes to the world.” Tyril

“We shared great Kilvali, emotional connection. Our souls sang together.” Tyril “I think what kit’s asking is if you two...you know...did the thing.” Mal

“Kaya Duskraven was a kind, caring, and compassionate friend! And you’re not worth the earth she stood on!” Tyril

“Kaya Duskraven was the bravest, cleverest, noblest elf I have ever met. She abhorred injustice and fought for knowledge and understanding. She taught me so much. To honor our past as elves but to also challenge it. To right the wrongs of our forebears. She gave her life trying to under the harm done by the Shadow Court.” Tyril

“We miss you greatly, Kaya. May you walk among the stars.” Tyril

King Arland:

Prince Baldur:

“I’m something of a collector of exotic beasts, you see...”

“And I yearn for the swooning damsels who will flock to my palace to hear my heroic tale of slaying the drakna queen.”

“All his life, Baldur’s been told he’s destined for the crown. He acts as though he’s invincible...because he is.” Aerin

“I just wish he would change. Open his eyes to the world. Set aside some of his pride...be a good brother.” Aerin

“In case you haven’t noticed, he isn’t the brightest.” Aerin

Ellara:

“Looked like you could use a hand, my love.”

“The shadow forces are many, but they are weak.”

King Xiaus: 

[Ellara asks what to do] “We fight. We die. And we pray that one day, a hero will rise to avenge us.”

Mermaid:

“You’re not...going to lure me to my watery death or anything are you?” asks MC.

Scholar Vash:

“Save your energy, Priestess. These are no mortal wounds. The rot of darkness has infected me.”

Skullcrusher:

“[When you stare] Lookin’s free kid, but everything else will cost ya.” 

“I said no re-matches.”

Ventra Tal Kaelen:

“I have an entire army at my command. I say the word, and they bring me the sun itself. What I need is an heir. Someone reliable. Someone i can trust to carry on my legacy.”

“She’s too busy focusing on whether I’m a suitable princess to see what my true talents are.” Imtura

‘To be honest, I’ve always hoped that if I run long enough, or far enough away, she might give up on me...” Imtura

Voxper: 

“By the laws of the old pact, forged between man and beast, you have played with me. I now owe you a boom.”

#playchoices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #blades of light and shadow #bladesaw #creator resources

[herbertwest]

Key: 1. Alchemist patch! I love alchemy, I think it’s super cool.

2. A neat dragon patch that my friend gave me.

3. Three tarot cards that mean a lot to me: the Magician, Strength, and the Six of Wands.

4. My wristband from M’era Luna! That was the time I met the Murder Family!

5. A Squishable shrimp

6. The Scream

7. Dali’s melting clock

8. The Master and Margarita - my favorite book

9. The Flatwoods Monster

10. A bat by Doré

11. The Russian crest from 1902-1917

12. A Soviet third-place badge for doing something with a tractor

13. A little Soviet pin, I think maybe to do with fencing. I found it in a vintage store.

14. The logo of Dagda from Shin Megami IV: Apocalypse

15. A badge from the Farin Urlaub Racing Team

16. A little German lunch pin, that I got from the same vintage store as the little Soviet pin

17. Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft pin

18. Hand of Glory (glows in the dark!)

19. Haunted house (glows in the dark!)

20. Prince Felix Yusupov, killer of Rasputin and my favorite historical figure

21. A Muse pin

22. Re-Animator...because of course

23. Magritte Son of Man patch

24. Map of Berlin when it was divided

25. Luna moth with moveable wings

26. The Stuff pin (yum!)

27. Little plague doctor

28. Die Krupps ‘I am a Machinist of Joy’ pin

29. EMP rock pin

30. ‘I felt a gust of melancholy’ pin, by Edvard Munch

31. Sagittarius pin

32. Chopped Liver pin (you know why)

33. Umbrella Academy pin (comics, not TV show)

34. Little matryoshka doll from Russia!

35. A watched pot never boils

36. Phantasm pin

37. Baba Yaga!

38. Rasputin (eyes glow in the dark!)

39. Ouija board with planchette (glows in the dark!)

40. Radio microphone

41. Killer Klowns from Outer Space

42. Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy ‘Don’t Panic’ button

43 + 44: Solve and Coagula patches (alchemy!)

I hope I didn’t miss anything, but that’s what’s on my jacket!

#battlejacket #fashion #pins #patches