#i am a shame to my ancestors sorry babes

[feyhunter78]

Hold My Heart (Between Your Teeth) 14/?

Description: Aegon brings proof of justice served to Rhaenyra and reconciles with his mother, while Seraphine and Helaena discuss next steps.

Series masterlist

Aegon wished he could say he felt something when he killed his grandsire. Perhaps shame or guilt, but he felt nothing, his sword passed through Otto’s neck like water, and he left the man there in a puddle of his own blood.

He went straight to Rhaenyra, threw his grandsire’s head at her feet, and pledged his allegiance.

His sister was shocked, but she kissed his forehead and thanked him, offering to marry him and Seraphine in the ways of their house.

He declined her offer; he had no need for the traditions of their father and his ancestors. He had married Seraphine in the sept, under the eyes of his mother’s beloved Seven, and that was enough for him.

“It may be enough for you, Aegon, but the people will wish to use you as a symbol against me.” Rhaenyra said, her hand holding his mother’s as Alicent attempted to calm herself.

“How will a Valyrian marriage stop that?” He asked, leaning on his sword, the blade still slick with his grandsire’s blood.

“She is one of the smallfolk, a girl with no surname, and no house to support her. By marrying her publicly, you squash any chance of being seen as a figurehead.” His mother said, her voice shaky. “She ruins you.”

“Seraphine has saved me.” He snapped, fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade.

“I believe your mother meant that Seraphine’s lack of political power means that you will lack noble support. Which is good.” Rhaenyra explained.

Aegon relaxed and nodded. “But what about Aemond? He is the second son, and Alyra is a noblewoman. Will your enemies not try to make figureheads of them?”

Rhaenyra chuckled. “I know Alyra quite well, she will not betray me, and Aemond will follow her wherever she leads. If she asks him to set Vhagar on those who would defy me, he would do so in a heartbeat.”

“She has that monster with her as well.” Aegon mumbled, shivering as he recalled the wild look in Cannibal’s eyes, the way the set every other dragon but Vhagar on edge.

“Marry Seraphine in the way of your father’s house Aegon, it serves us all well.” His mother said, letting go of Rhaenyra’s hand to come and take his in her own. “I know I have pushed you in many directions, and not all of them have been right, but I ask you to trust me one more time.”

Aegon looked up at his mother, his soft and sensitive mother who tried so very hard, but could never seem to bridge that gap between herself and her children. He had never hated her, only craved her love, her approval, and never knew how to obtain it.

“I will do as you ask, mother.” He said, pressing her hands to his lips.

She smiled at him, and his heart felt full for a moment. How long had it been since he had seen his mother truly smile?

 She brushed back his hair, a fond look in her eyes. “My firstborn son, a man and soon to be married, it feels as if only yesterday you were a babe in my arms.” Her eyes were misty, and her expression softened into one of longing. “My sweet son, I love you very much, and I am truly sorry.”

He crushed her to his chest, letting his sword clatter to the floor as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. “No, I am sorry mother, I have dealt you wound after wound with reckless abandon. I have failed you as a son, I would not blame you if you hated me.”

She carded her fingers through his hair. “You are my firstborn, stubborn and vulnerable, you are my heart, a true son of mine with my flaws and vices, but I have never hated you, nothing you do could ever make me hate you.”

He sobbed into her hair, clinging to her as if he was a child once more.

Seraphine sat across from Helaena waiting for the princess to speak.

“My good-mother will be queen, this is good.” Helaena said finally, resting her hands on her rounded stomach.

“Yes, and many deaths have been avoided.” Seraphine agreed, taking a sip of her tea.

“There will still be some that question my husband’s parentage, it may pose an issue.”

“We should betroth our firstborns. If the pairing is agreeable. I have asked Aegon to hold up on bedding me until we are publicly married, as you know. But after the wedding, and I doubt it will be too long before I am with child.” Seraphine said, biting back a smile.

Helaena nodded. “It would serve to solidify my child’s claim, and continue the Targaryen bloodline.”

Seraphine bit her lip, then asked the question that had been on her mind ever since Helaena had revealed her otherworldly knowledge. “Have you made it this far, in any other lifetime?”

Helaena shook her head. “Not happily. I have seen my death countless times, the death of my children…”

“With Jacaerys?” Seraphine asked carefully.

“No, with Aegon.”

“Did I ever have a child with Aegon?” Unconsciously, her free hand goes to her stomach.

Helaena nodded, albeit sadly. “A girl, sweet-tempered with violet eyes and hair like flames, Aegon loved her more than any of the children we had together.”

A girl, a daughter, Jayne. With Aegon’s eyes and her hair, she could picture the babe in her mind. She would be beautiful and spoiled rotten, never knowing the hardships her mother had faced.

“What happened to her? Did I raise her or?” The look on Helaena’s face stopped her. “Does Aegon kill her?” She asked quietly, scared to hear the answer.

“No, you die before her seventh nameday, and she is married off to an elderly nobleman for his army.”

Seraphine’s stomach lurched, and she set down her teacup with more force than she meant to. “I will not let that happen again.”

Helaena reached over the table and took her hand. “I have faith in this life, never before have I had a companion who understand the fates I had seen. The simple fact of your awareness brings me comfort.”

She squeezed Helaena’s hand. “Together we will ensure that all those we care about will live happily.”

Helaena smiled softly at her. “Let us talk no more of the past, it does not do us well.”

Seraphine nodded and turned the conversation to preparations for the nursery.

“You will be Lord of Oldtown?” Seraphine asked, blinking in confusion. Aegon had returned and Helaena had left to rejoin her husband, leaving the two of them alone to talk.

“Grandsire was the second son; he could not hire an assassin without his brother’s approval. Hobert, my great-uncle, was executed, and his family banished from the realm.” Aegon explained, as he told her what his mother and Rhaenyra had told him.

Seraphine mulled over his words. “Is this good news?”

Aegon nodded. “This is wonderful, we shall leave the court behind and live in peace.”

Was it wonderful, though? Was it not better for Aegon to stay close to Rhaenyra where he was less likely to be influenced by others? Perhaps she would need to further her hold, wrap him tighter around her finger. She no longer had merely herself to think of, but the image of her babe, sweet Jayne, was clear in her mind. She would bring her daughter back and give her the life she deserved.

Seraphine looped her arms around Aegon’s neck and smiled up at him. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

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#aegon x oc #aegon ii x oc #aegon ii targaryen #hmh fic #aegon x seraphine #seraphine #alicent hightower #rhaenerya targaryen #helaena targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfics #meg's writing

[futo-m0m0]

heat exhaustion but you were only outside for an hour

#im so weak for a person who has lived in the south for half their life #literally pasty pale ass me who is half islander #i am a shame to my ancestors sorry babes

[theprojectionstalpha]

649 days till Graduation Day

Chapter 2- I take Magic over Math any day The walls of the castle basement were filled with an unreadable silence. The darkness crept along with the stone floors that were covered with the blood of students. "Tic Toc my dear Stelliana..." The dark voice said as they swung a pocket watch around his finger, "soon we will meet face to face, and when we do you will help me escape these chains..." He looked at a paper he had and lit it on fire, blowing the ashes out of his large claw, and laughed. The ashes flew out an opening in the basement door and out through the dark hallway that held so much death. . . . . . Stella was woken up by the sound of their phone ringing as they turned over to reach for it on the nightstand where they thought it was but instead rolled off the top bunk and onto the floor. Aldren jolted up, "What the-" He looked around but looked down to the groaning Stella, "oh...of course, it would be you." Stella looked at him from the floor, "Geez, thanks for your concern..." They sat up, lifting themself off the floor, avoiding the dragon male who got up, almost stepping on their foot. "No problem airhead." He shoved them a bit out of his way. Stella shooed his hand away and answered the phone, "hello?" They said tiredly, a yawn escaping only for the phone to burst with shouts of a worried mother. "Stelliana!!! Why didn't you text me last night!? Did you know I was worried sick!? What were you thinking!? I said to call when you got to school! I was up all night waiting for your call and what did I get!? NOTHING!" Stella froze in place, a small ghost escaping their mouth as they suffer from their now ringing ears, "man, didn't even call your mom? Shameful." Aldren said as he headed to the bathroom. "Oh shut up dragon-breath," Stella scoffed at him as he just flipped them off from the bathroom before shutting the door, barely blocking a pillow in time. Stella sighed, "Sorry mom, I meant to call you but I was so busy when I first arrived here, I had to get the school tour, get my classes, my key, my imperium level-" They were cut off from the other side of the call, "What was your level sweetheart?! Was it high!? Are you a rose gold!?" The excited mother asked. Stella yawned and kept the phone between their ear and their shoulder as they went into their new closet and found their new uniform, "well mom I got a crystal key with an Imperium of 17,942." Stella explained as they pulled out the midnight blue uniform. The uniforms are made as seen fit for a student so he or she may be comfortable in it, the colors for boys were always a deep garnet, for girls it was midnight blue. The lining on a student's uniform is the color of the student's key given at the beginning of the school year. Since Stella's key was a crystal, their uniform was lined with a metallic white. Stella didn't even have time to set it on their bed before their mom just screamed of joy and could be heard on the other line running around the house, yelling at her family. Stella sighed and saw they were getting a facetime call, "..." They hesitantly answered only to see the many faces of their family. "What!? My child got a crystal key! Hell yeah! You kicking ass already and you ain't even been there for a day." Stella's step-dad was face-first on the screen, like a dad. "Dad! Let us see them!" Gray whined and took the phone from his dad and looked at Stella, "Hey! Bring back gifts!" The voice of Gianna was heard behind him, "She doesn't need to bring gifts back for you!" She took the phone and smiled, "Hi there nibling!" Gianna said happily into the phone. Stella laughed a bit, "Hello Gianna and Gray." They waved to the twins. "Anyway." Stella's mom took back the phone and smiled at Stella, "Just know we are so happy for you and you're doing us proud!" Stella smiled, "Thanks mom, I gotta go now, you know school and all." They laughed a bit. "Okay, sweetie! We love you!" She hung up. Stella laughed and got dressed in the closet. They looked in the mirror at their uniform and smiled. Their uniform consisted of a white shirt that had long gypsy style sleeves that went off the shoulder which was tucked into their midnight blue, high-waisted skater skirt with two lines on the bottom that was a metallic white color which was over black tights and she wore white high tops with a golden zipper on the side. They walked out once finished and saw Aldren in his white shirt with a loosened collar and no tie. he had on deep garnet trousers with the same two metallic lines on the bottom, a silver chain on his neck, and his hair in the same style it was in yesterday. "Where's your pin?" He looked at Stella with his unamused eyes. "My pin? What you mean?" Stella looked around like 'huh?' "My god you are stupid, each student gets a pin to keep on them. You should have got it." He said and showed that his pin was on a chain that hung on his pants. Stella huffed a bit, "well I didn't so cut me some slack." Aldren sighed annoyed, "Whatever... let's just get going, it might be in your locker." He turned to walk out, "I would hurry, Breakfast will begin soon and you look like you couldn't go one day without eating." He walked out. Stella wanted to throw something at him but calmed down and walked after him, "One day I'm gonna get you back." The dragon boy laughed, "I would love to see you try human." He unlocked the door with his key and walked out, back on the ground floor. Stella stayed behind him while cursing him out in their head. Stella was brought out of their mind rage when a pair of arms wrapped around them. "Huh?" They looked only to see curly blue hair, "oh, hey Hectar!" They smiled at the happy elf. "Hey, Stella!" He smiled, "Hey Hectar, I love your uniform." He smiled, "I like yours too!" Hectar's uniform had garnet chinos with the same two lines on the bottom but rose gold with a button-up shirt with short sleeves with a black long-sleeved undershirt under it, a little bow tie around the collar with gold stripes, his pin in his hair like a clip. "Well they are fitted to each student," Seira said as she walked over to them from around the corner. "So you naturally sleep in?" She asked as she fixed her hair while Stella laughed a bit, embarrassed, "heh, no. My mom called and I was trying to talk with her while getting ready." They smiled, "I like your uniform too! It fits you!" Stella complemented the angel. Seira's uniform had a short midnight blue and gold pleated skirt, a short button-up sleeve shirt with a tie around the collar area, short white socks that were below the knee, and black converse, her pin on the knot of her tie. Seira nodded as Hectar butted in, "Well come on! I'm hungry and I hear the breakfast is amazing." He smiled. Stella was dragged along by Hectar while Seira followed behind to the dining hall. The dining hall was filled with students waiting for breakfast as the three students took their spot at the table they were at last night. Soon fairies flew out from the kitchen with plates filled with food and jugs filled with drinks, setting them down for the students. Hectar dug into the pancakes first while Seira poured herself juice and mounched on some bacon. Stella had grabbed a fruit bowl and yogurt, putting in some granola and eating happily. The three were oblivious to the snicker's from another table towards the end of the hall from a group of people. "A human in this school?" Spoke up a nymph with bright blue hair as she sipped her coffee. "What were they think? It could ruin the school's reputation not to mention they haven't taken a human for years." A gorgon spoke, a blindfold over her eyes and her snakes asleep. "Who knew full human's still existed, to be honest." A female fairy laughed, moving some red hair from her face away from her pink eyes. Aldren walked over with his brother and sat at the table since they were deemed popular in school. "Hey, there babe." The fairy smiled. "Hello, Cupere and I am not your boyfriend." Aldren sighed as Cupere laughed, "I mean you should be, we are both rich and our families are close in ties. Plus I am great at cleaning dragon scales." She smiled. "Still doesn't mean we should be together, your family may have been ancestors of cupid but that doesn't mean everyone will love you." Adeen noticed Cupere getting upset and jumped in, "Anyway good morning to you ladies! You seem unexcited for the new school year. Especially you Mestio." The gorgon hissed a bit, "Yeah, thanks to this blueberry oreo here I didn't get to graduate again." The nymph smiled, "well if I wasn't gonna pass, my girlfriend was gonna be stuck here with me." The nymph laughed, "also I have a name! It's Zadora babe!" She huffed as Mestio rolled her eyes, "Blueberry oreo fits better." Adeen laughed a bit as Aldren ate his eggs and steak in boredom, "so, what were you talking about?" Cupere scoffed, "That new human we have, I can't believe they let her in nonetheless how she had such a high Imperium. Even higher than you Aldren." Aldren didn't argue back on that, it did tick him off a bit that a human had a higher Imperium than him, a male who had dragon blood inside him compared to Stella. "Whatever." Meanwhile with said human, "This is why you don't slurp your jello!" Stella and Hectar were trying to help Seira from choking on jello she decided to slurp. Seira finally coughed it back up, "...none of you saw that." Stella gave that 'what you mean' face, "Of course we did we had to help you, dummy." They facepalmed as Hectar sat down again and laughed a bit. "So...I don't have my schedule," Stella laughed nervously and turned away to their food. Seria sighed, "guess that's in your locker too with your pin." Hectar smiled, "Why didn't you check your locker yesterday Stella?" He asked as he ate some of his pancakes. Stella growled, "I was trying to find my room and then met might roommate who is the worst! Stupid dragon..." They crossed their arms and sunk back into her chair. Seria thought, "You mean Aldren? if I remember correctly he is one of the only of Crystal's beside you now." Stella nodded, "whatever his name is, he called me names." They huffed and Hectar pats her back, "Don't worry! We will have time before classes start!" He smiled. Stella nodded and finished up their food with the two. Eventually, breakfast was over and Stella was in front of their locker, not even knowing how to open it, "damn it! How do I do this!?" Seira sighed, "Did you not read the handout you were given at the front desk?" Stella froze, "...there was a handout...?" They laughed nervously as Seira was just looking at them, "oh my god.... you are dumb." Stella nodded, "yeah I know." Hectar handed Stella his handout, "Here you can use mine." Stella hugged Hectar, "you are an angel." Hectar laughed a bit, "no Seira is the angel, I'm just your prepared friend." Stella nodded and looked at the handout and read how to open the locker, "Oh okay!" They smiled and put their hand on the locker, "Open please." They smiled as the locker unlocked and opened for them, "that's awesome!" They searched and found their pin and schedule, "found them!" As soon as she touched the pin it glowed and vanished somewhere on her, "hey where did it go?" Hectar looked and smiled, "there it is." He pointed to the pin now a necklace on them. Stella smiled, "alright! We're officially students!" They high-fived Hectar and Seira. Shortly after the bell rang and they had to go their separate ways. Stella stood at the door with their key in hand, "...." She checked the time, "okay." They put the key in the keyhole, "7:45." They twisted the key and unlocked the door, stepping inside a nice classroom with a ton of spell books, magic supplies, and a name written on the board. Stella smiled and looked at the desks, each made two sit two people, seeing each were labeled by the colors of their key. "I guess I sit here," they sat down at the crystal table and set their bag of books and supplies down, watching as people began to walk in from the two doors in the room. Every person was of a different species from being half-giants to small pixies, sitting at their assigned colored tables. "Okay first day of school, I got this! I will make this class worth it!" Stella cheered themself on a bit till they noticed a half-dragon male enter the classroom. Both made eye contact as the same words escaped their mouths, "you have got to be kidding me." Aldren groaned and sat by them, "of all classes, you got put in this one." Stella glared a bit, "trust me, I don't like you either." If it was like the movies you would see the lightning bolt of hatred that sparked between them. Just then the door flew open, "haha! Well good morning class!" A man walked in and stood at the teacher's desk. "For any new students my name is Professor J.P Lawrence and I am your teacher in the practice of magic arts!" He had on a lab coat with round glasses, a dark blue button-up shirt and some black pants, no shoes on. He had shaggy and messy brown hair and pale skin but pretty bright green eyes as he sat on his desk like a bird. Stella's eyes sparkled, no matter how whacky their teachers were, they were going to admire them. "Now for today were gonna start off with some simple introduction paragraphs using some very special quills and paper!" He hopped down and picked up a jar of quills and a Beige colored paper, skipping his way up and down the aisle's and handing out a quill and paper to every student. Stella looked at the quill and realized it already had ink, they were confused a bit. "Now class, start writing your paragraphs!" Prof. Lawrence said and sat back down like a bird on his desk. Stella began writing down on the paper, wondering what made this paper and quill so special. Aldren didn't bother with the paragraph and put his feet up on Stella's side of the desk, which earned him his feet getting pushed off and almost falling off the chair, "!" He looked at Stella, "what the hell was that for?" Stella didn't even look at him, "keep you and your dragon smelling feet over there on your side." They stated as they continued writing, "I don't care if you don't want to do the paper just don't spend your time bothering me." Aldren growled a bit and crumpled up his paper and threw it at Stella's head. Stella froze a bit before looking at him annoyed, "what!? What is so important that you wish to bother me!?" Aldren smirked, "just reminding you that I hate your guts and shouldn't have come to this school." He flicked Stella in the forehead. Stella rubbed their head and groaned annoyed, "oh yeah? At least I was recommended into this school and not put in just because of a name." Aldren glared, "You don't even know that," Stella glared right back at him, "oh yeah? how much you wanna bet I'm not wrong." A slam on their desk got their attention and they both looked to the professor staring them both down, "is there a reason you two are disturbing the classroom time?" Stella shook their head a bit, nervous, "no sir." J.P looked at Aldren, who only shook his head no. "Are you done with your paper's?" Stella nodded and set the quill down, quickly while Aldren just gave a 'tch' and looked away. J.P picked up Stella's paper and Aldren's crumpled-up paper, walking to the front of the class. "Students, since your upper classmen have decided they were done, lets see what they have written down." He set Stella's paper over the fire and it burned, letters flying off the paper like flames as they made themselves into a paragraph in the air. Stella's eyes sparkled at the flame magic the paper held but now realized everyone could see it. "Ms. Everdale," Stella heard their name and stood up, "y-yes?" They cursed themself mentally for stuttering. "Please read your paragraph for us since we have already wasted 20 minutes of our 60 minutes together." Stella nodded a bit, "H-Hello, My name is Stelliana Everdale b-but I go by the name Stella. I classify as non-binary with they/them pronouns." Stella gulped a bit at the many eyes watching them, "I like to ride my bike, practice magic, and hang out with my friends...really that's it I have no social life outside of school so." They regretted writing that bit in as a few laughs erupted around the room. "Thank you, you may be seated," J.P stated as Stella sat their butt down fast in embarrassment, the words vanishing. "Mr. Cenmark," J.P held his paper over the fire and when it flamed no words appeared, "please stand up and read what you have written." Aldren was looking down a bit and mumbled something, "what was that?" J.P asked. Aldren mumbled a bit louder but J.P still asked what it was he was saying, "I can't!" Aldren shouted a bit. J.P nodded, "Wow that's a shocker." J.P blew the flame out, "I will be seeing you both for detention during lunchtime." Stella was in shock and saddened, they didn't think this would be how their first class of the day went as they nodded a bit and looked down at the table sadly. Aldren was a bit annoyed and wondered how he would explain this to his brother. After another 40 minutes, the class was over and everyone packed up their bags and headed out. Stella packed up their bag and put it over their shoulder, heading out while Aldren had been the first one to leave. Stella headed out to their locker, putting their books away, and grabbed out their books for the next class. Hectar ran up and hugged them from behind, "hey! How did magic arts go?" Stella sighed a bit, "I got lunch detention." They said as they shut their locker door. "Wait what!?" Hectar said surprised. "Detention already? Never thought you had it in you." Stella looked back to Seira leaning on the lockers. "It wasn't my fault! It's that stupid Aldren Cenmark's fault! Ever since he saw me he had some grudge against me and I don't know why! Now he got me detention!" Stella kicked the locker a bit but stopped and pet it a bit, "Sorry." They sighed, "I'm just hoping I don't have him for summoning class." Hectar smiled, "well I know you will have me!" He jumped a bit excited. Stella smiled, "Well that's good to know!" The bell rang yet again. Seira stood up and turned, "later you two, see you at lunch Hectar and see you after detention Stella," Stella whined a bit as Seira left then walked with Hectar to a door. Hectar put in his key, "8:50." He unlocked the door and they headed in, the desk in the same order as before, Stella sitting alone this time at the crystal table and waved to Hectar who sat at the rose gold table right by them. The teacher that walked in was an older woman, seemingly in her 60's to '70s, a grayish dark green hair and bright red eyes behind golden reading glasses, a light blue dress on, and if she wasn't a teacher she would be mistaken for a grandma. "Alright class, today we will do some basic summoning symbols, each of you takes out a paper and draw this symbol." She pointed to the one she had already written on the board. Stella took out the quill from the first class as everyone seemed to be using those, drawing the symbol. After 5 minutes the teacher instructed the next few steps, the last step was poking your finger with a needle and let one drop of blood fall on the paper. Stella winced a bit as they poked their finger with a needle and let the blood drop onto it, sucking the blood off their finger and watched as the blood faded into the symbol and out flew a small light blue dragon, "wow!" Stella smiled as the dragon flew around them a bit, "what is this miss?" The teacher looked to them, "my name is Mrs. Larosa and that is your spirit animal, fun fact is that those with the same spirit animals are to be destined soulmates but it's always rare you find yours." Stella looked over to Hectar who watched as an adorable little deer ran around him, pretty vines and flowers around its antlers. "Hello," Hectar waved a bit to the deer who bowed at him while Stella's eyes sparkled, "amazing!" They smiled. "This is so cool, I would take magic over math any day." Stella smiled while Hectar nodded in agreement. The bell rang and Stella was shocked, seeing an hour had gone by fast, "Awe man! Why does the time go faster in the fun classes!?" She packed as the little spirit animals disappeared. Stella headed out with Hectar and saw Seira was waiting for them at the lockers already. Stella put their bag in their locker, "alright lunchtime!" They smiled but their bubble was burst by Seira who reminded them of their detention and they deflated a bit. Hectar laughed a bit and pat Stella's head a bit, "don't worry, I'm sure it won't be that bad." Seira nodded, "Yeah plus it's only 2 hours long, you won't die...maybe." Stella looked up nervous, "huh!?" Seira laughed, "I'm kidding, but anyway good luck." Seira waved and turned walking off, "Hectar come on." Hectar looked between the two and sighed a bit, "we will see you later, okay Stella?" He smiled and waved, running after Seira. Stella got up off the floor and got their key, walking to the door and sighing a bit, "10:00." Stella unlocked the door and went in. There sat J.P in his bird position on his desk, looking up to Stella with his green eyes, "welcome to detention." He smiled. Stella stood there a bit, "So what ar-" J.P shushed them, "wait for Mr. Cenmark to get here first before we talk about what you two will be doing for disrupting the class." Stella stayed standing there as the two waited. J.P hopped down and stood in front of them, face to face. Stella was confused and blinked a bit. J.P laughed, "I can see it inside of your eyes, no wonder your here." Stella nervously laughed along with him. J.P turned and sat down again on his desk as Aldren walked in. Aldren saw Stella and sighed, "Of course you're here already." Stella glared a bit, "yeah I know how to be on time, unlike you dragon breath." Aldren tch'ed and looked away, "At least I try with my insults." Stella was about to throw their key at him till a loud clap caught the two's attention. Both looked over to J.P standing on his desk, "now now! none of that!" He hopped down and walked over, "Now that you are both here, I think it's time to get this 2-hour detention started." Stella was handed a bucket and a mop while Aldren was handed some cleaning spray and a rag. The two looked at the cleaning supplies confused and to J.P. "You will both be cleaning out the school attic." J.P smiled. "What!? I'm a Cenmark! I shouldn't be doing something like cleaning!" Aldren shouted while Stella just sighed and accepted this. J.P looked at him, "well then would you like to write a 5 paragraph essay explaining to your parents about today's events?" Aldren shut up at the mention of his parents and looked away. Stella peeped up a bit, "Sir, why are we cleaning the attic?" J.P smiled, "well you see dear Ella, the headmaster told me I had too but I'm making you two do it, so win-win, I don't have to clean and the headmaster gets what she wants." Aldren rolled his eyes, "what's the win for us?" J.P thought, "the fact you guys aren't writing paragraphs and I'm letting you guys take your phones to listen to music. The two sighed and went on their way to the attic, up the tall staircase, and opened the large wooden door. They stood in the archway of the large messy attic, the two looked in shock and sighed, looking at each other and glared a bit, both looking away and heading in to get to work. Seira was eating up some jello while Hectar was worrying about Stella. "Hectar calm down, it's not like the teacher is gonna make Stella and the other guy kill a giant beast and bring its head to him on a stick." Hectar nodded, "Yeah I know that but still, I worry." Adeen overheard them and walked over, sitting by Hectar, "hello! By chance does this so-called other guy happen to be Aldren?" Seira nodded, "yeah what's it to you?" Adeen smiled, "because my brother was complaining all class about how he had detention with a human named Stella." Hectar tilted his head, "brother?" Adeen nodded, "My name is Adeen Cenmark, I'm Aldren's older brother. It's nice to meet you two!" Seira nodded and just slurped her jello over there, while Hectar shook his hand. "So," Seira finished up her jello, "you think those two will last detention together?" She asked. The two boys looked at each other and back at Seira and shook their heads no. Seira nodded, "Yeah I bet 50 one of them comes back with a bruise." Adeen laughed, "I will take that bet." The two shook hands as they continued lunch, unaware of what was going on upstairs in the attic.

#magic #lgbtq+ #fantasy #mystery #original

[johannesviii]

Earthworld

Some highlights of the last EDA I’ve read (Earthworld).

I took these screens while reading, along with my reactions. As usual, this is full of spoilers.

This is exactly what everyone needed after the Earth arc, and especially after Escape Velocity and Anji’s lackluster characterisation. She’s reintroduced in this book, and what a wonderful addition to that TARDIS team! And the book tackles the topic of Dave’s death, where the previous one kinda refused to do so before sending Anji directly into space.

Come to think of it, the book tackles a lot of things it didn’t have to, and succeeds, too. Eight’s responsability in the destruction of Gallifrey constantly threatens to make a comeback in his mind. The issue of Fitz being a copy of the original Fitz is discussed at last - a thing all the books since Interference failed to do properly (including The Ancestor Cell). Come to think of it, Earthworld might just be the best Fitz book so far, which is a baffling thing to me considering that’s his twentieth book!

The plot itself is mostly a good runaround in an amazingly fun setting - it never really threatens to be more than that, but it’s still pretty refreshing. It’s a great standalone book, a fun romp, a very good character piece ; it works on nearly every level. What a breath of fresh air. 8,5/10

My bad, I seem to have picked the novelisation of An Unearthly Child.

We’re only on page one and I’ve already laughed out loud once. Good sign.

I just had a flashback of the scene from Memory Lane where Charley tries to use a mobile phone, and I imagined these two dorks trying to have a conversation over mobile phones and I’m giggling

Also Anji thinking Fitz and Eight are embarrassing idiots gives me life

This is a 3 out of 10 on the scale of Bad Ideas.

WE’RE ONLY THREE PAGES INTO THIS STORY AND I’VE ALREADY SAID “IDIOTS” THREE TIMES

Oh my god Eight

Thank you for your precious contribution Doctor

FITZ NO

Are you telling me that the Doctor can only use the sonic as long as he’s distracted and babbling about special interests now

Because that really speaks to me as a person

Meanwhile Anji is trying to cope with Dave’s death by writing him emails and this shouldn’t be that funny

Oh no he still has some memories of Sam and he doesn’t realise it

Okay so I need to make this t-shirt right now immediately

One thing I don’t really like about the writing is that some dialogues are entirely one-sided. It’s not the best example, but in some scenes you only get half the dialogue and it’s very strange.

We’re all very happy for you Doctor but why are you so happy about that

OH SHIT HAHAHA that’s a great idea!

Wait a f█cking second

Is this some sort of Disneyland very loosely based on Earth

I love you Anji

That girl must be a New Who fan who calls Ten “the second Doctor” probably

I probably should smile but I’m actually sad

That coat has only a few hours left to live & I have zero doubts about this

Here’s a better example of what I was saying earlier about having only one side of a dialogue. It makes scenes shorter, true, but it’s very distracting.

I’m laughing but I’m also pretty sure people from 3000 years ago would laugh their asses off if they could see some of our reconstructions of their lives

I still love you Anji

1) A++ description of McGann’s voice

2) That last bit was Not Okay

Also here’s Anji trying to determine which Jungle Book character suits the Doctor best and it looks like a long shitpost

First I laughed about Fitz being the orang-utan, and then I remembered that character really wants to be human and I abruptly stopped laughing

You were on Earth and you didn’t see Blade Runner when it came out? Aw

“he mentally kicked himself for not even being able to look at a babe without thinking of the Doctor” I’m screaming

How did you guess

Only every three months?

Considering it’s been 30 books since Seeing I, and taking into account the fact that I almost wrote “TOO SOON”, we can safely assume that I will never, ever be over Seeing I

I absolutely love this conversation, and also sky-blue pink is still a color, just an impossible one, and it’s quite pretty

Holy sHIT TALK ABOUT MOOD WHIPLASH

OH NOOOO, HELP, CUTE

THIS SHOULDN’T BE THAT F█CKING FUNNY

HE JUST SLIPPED IN THE DAMN BLOOD WHY AM I LAUGHING SO HARD

Unfortunately this is what popped first into my mind before the most logical explanation for their names

9847221° friendly reminder that I absolutely love Eight

FITZ NO

This book makes me laugh way too often this isn’t fair

Oh the indignity

Fitz no. Just. No.

I just choked on my cereals

1) They think Aristophanes plays are cookbooks and they aren’t even questioning this, like, how does that fucking work

2) Fitz once got trapped in the classical section of the TARDIS library

3) for two days

4) for two DAYS

5) and decided to read old plays just in case there was some sex scenes in them

holy shit

there’s genuine tears of laughter in my eyes

This book is quite the emotional rollercoaster isn’t it

Okay so that explains quite a few things. Fitz is with the originals, then.

THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR TRYING TO CONVINCE PEOPLE YOU’RE A ROCK STAR FITZ KREINER

I shouldn’t be laughing so hard

I’m still laughing but I’m also so happy for him

Live the dream, Fitz, live the dream

Well except it wasn’t technically you, except it was, except it wasn’t

HOLY SHIT ARE WE FINALLY GOING TO ADDRESS THIS PROPERLY?!

NOT

F█CKING

ALLOWED

OUCH

Addressing a disturbing trend in SF! Good!

Well to be fair, theropods are sorta like big swans

1) Eggy-put Zone

2) Dozens of cats

Hey wait a f█cking second that’s not the same sphinx okay that’s a whole different mythology, also I’m laughing again, this book is probably adding quite a few extra months to my lifespan

Friendly reminder that I love Anji

Which would definitely work on you, Doctor, just a reminder

Meanwhile, in Not Okay Land

At the moment? Not much

I... sorry there’s a thing in my eye

I’m so happy for him

HA HAHAHA

SPOKE TOO SOON F█CK

Back to a place I haven’t been to in a long time, aka “want to hug Fitz and rock back and forth” street

Meanwhile Fitz is doing the same thing to a small crocodile

STORY OF MY F█CKING LIFE

Listen Eight I'm still not ready for The Turing Test references at this point and you’re making me really sad so please stop

Here’s a quick update on the “Johannes loves Anji” situation

Keep this poster for the TARDIS

Something is extremely wrong

Meanwhile, in “Eight finds new and interesting ways to hurt himself”

Oh so that Fitz was an android, then.

Every time I think this book can’t get more bonkers, I’m proven wrong

I would pay money to see a tv version of this damn scene

I shouldn’t laugh but I can’t help it

“HE WAS GOING TO HAVE TO PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT HE WAS DOING WHILE HE WAS DISTRACTED”

Unexpected Dark Eyes: The Great War feels

WE HAVE A WINNER, FOLKS

I DON’T THINK FITZ IS EVER GOING TO BEAT THAT AS FAR AS “EMBARRASSING MOMENTS” GO, THAT ONE PUTS “GETTING MUGGED BY A UNICORN FOR A CHOCOLATE BAR” TO SHAME

His life is so full of horrible things that his only reaction to being locked up in a cell with a corpse is “at least it’s not rotting yet”.

Oh shit they found about the TARDIS that can’t be good

“Nothing good could possibly be called ‘the machine’”

NOT. F█CKING. OKAY.

This is stressful but also fascinating??

Good. Good.

You’re not telepathic Fitz Kreiner so I doubt she got all that

I completely forgot he had lost his trousers and now I’m laughing again

Told ya

You can’t swim? You can’t swim?? You go through time and space and you can even spacewalk but you can’t swim????

Anji is unexpectedly strong

I’m so happy he still remembers Iris on some level even if he couldn’t recognise her in Father Time

1) Hugs

2) Hugs are good

3) Anji huddled in Eight’s velvet coat

4) “he seemed to count in her head as another girl”

Filed under “need to draw at some point”

Marlin and Lancelet

I have no words

Eight plays “Marlin” because of course he is

Also I’m not screening everything but Anji was brilliant

BAD IDEA

VERY BAD IDEA

9 OUT OF 10 ON MY SCALE OF BAD IDEAS

FOR ONCE I AGREE WITH FITZ

NOOOOOOO

This is so damn weird. Funny and stressful at the same time.

Eight is reliving the memories of the dead queen and it is so f█cking weird

In a good way but still

YES BUT I DON’T WANT TO ALARM ANYONE BUT THEY WERE STILL CONNECTED TO THE THING SO I EXPECT SOME SIDE-EFFECTS

HAHAHA

Also “to Fitz’s incredulous horror”

Uh guys

Guys if he thinks he’s dead now, shouldn’t you worry about that or something

I told yoU GODDAMMIT

“quietly pleased”

Oh, that explains quite a lot, actually.

I just realised Anji’s was only coping thanks to pure adrenaline and constant distractions since Dave’s death and she’s inevitably going to crack sooner or later once everything is solved here.

AND STRAIGHT BACK TO THE BAD IDEAS

Hmmm cute?? Not acceptable? Thank you

The TARDIS did a very good job and all is well.

Every time that happened before, that person died, Fitz

Crisis averted.

I’m getting surprisingly emotional about all this

Well I’m really f█cking sad now

Don’t make me cry please Anji oh no

The butterfly room is still there but is now empty after all the butterflies were nailed to that door in The Ancestor Cell and I’m getting teary but also kinda happy, this feeling is extremely confusing

A++ ending, goddammit that last scene was wonderful

#Eighth Doctor #Fitz Kreiner #Anji Kapoor #eighth doctor adventures #Earthworld #EDAs #doctor who #long post #An EDA liveblog full of useless comments #gif #caps lock #violence tw #sex mention tw #(very mild) #(but better safe than sorry)

[poetrylogbook]

Tohunga

Visionary like my ancestors I / saw a sky of whales / a pale people / like my ancestors I / inhaled the bible / swallowed the rifle like / an 8 inch cock / whateva. / Like Donna Summer I swirled / in a floor length dress / said I love to love / I love to fuck / but just like my ancestors knew / to you I was a savage wild jasmine / a$$ out / blacked out / with dollar signs / feline like a bengal tiger and it’s true / that anyone on their hands and knees / is essentially a praying animal.

Radical like my ancestors I / saw the flower child / the wasted liberals / and my prehistoric / flare wearing prince / and like my ancestors I / kissed and kissed and kissed / and tasted / an entire lifetime of taking advantage and / being aware of it. / So at least / when my dress hits the floor / like molting bark / your eyes follow / and I can interpret / your fixation as shame. / Are you sorry? / And what does that say about me / if I think even a suggestion / of an apology is sexy? So like / my ancestors I / sculpt you from the dirt until you rise I / make you meet my eye / then suck you all up / with a slurp like a kina. / That’s Te Hei Mauri Ora. / Just like Papatuanuku / I breathe life / which is why my mother tongue spits praises despite / it’s history of whippings / I say

good on you babe. / You got what you wanted. / The juicy earth / the factoried women / the rivers / the mountains / all bowing for you. / I’m proud of you / the way you erected / monuments in your image / so foreign so / violently unimagined / just like my ancestors I / couldn’t even have even dreamed it. / Pou after pou / of grey and glass / cracking the sky and the sky / was full of whales. / Wow I say / good on you babe / then I spread / my hair all over the hotel pillow / because I love a winner. And you / hit the jackpot with me / with all us silly girls / for believing you were god / for as long as we did. / But now /

the atmosphere is betraying you / and you are reddening in places / where I can bare it. / A warrior / like my ancestors I survived / annihilation. And the awa / that run beneath my skin / have not been lapped dry / just yet / and you can see it all / the unpanned gold / the wild pounamu / the thrashing tuna / family jewels / you can never have / taonga / you can never taste / forbidden fruits / reserved for me / are you afraid again? / like you were of Eve? / the world / is getting unbearably hot / but so am I / and so is she.

Tayi Tibble

[zingmagazine]

Lutwidge Finch: A Novel by Thomas Rayfiel, Part III Chapter 7

The soft yet powerful hands of Monsieur Robert were completely at Madame Schlierbeck's service. She lay naked on a marble slab, having dispensed with even the modest sheet she had been offered, and allowed his lightning-fast palms to chop up and down her back, felt them stray, daringly, teasingly, to that nether region so ill-defined in our anatomy where the body's upright nature shades indistinctly toward that of its quadruped ancestor.

"Mmmm," she said, finding the experience called for wordless, yet vocal, appreciation.

It would have done no good to talk. Monsieur Robert spoke not a word of English and Hepzibah Schlierbeck, despite the 'Madame' with which she continued to preface her name (it would do until Lady) had no French. But they understood each other perfectly, these two, the adorer and the adored, as he moved on to her shoulders, appraising, admiring, suggesting, all in the articulate language of the physical.

"Voila!" he finally said, less a word in this case than an exclamation, accompanied, as it was, by a friendly slap on the bottom, as if he had just delivered her, safe and sound, into this new sensual world.

No crying babe though, Madame Schlierbeck merely sat up lazily (all her bones seemed newly acquainted, making a jolly, good-natured effort to work together, no petty jealousies, gripes or nursed aches, having yet arisen) and smiled. She reached for the purse resting on top of her carefully folded clothes and tendered a large, chocolate-colored coin. Monsieur Robert bowed slightly and, with a twinkling, luck-wishing look in his eye, left the 'Madame Anglaise', as they had come to call her at the Bains Solitaire, alone, so that she might dress.

Paris was a revelation for Hepzibah. Never before had she realized what "abroad" meant, how one could flower here as nowhere else. It was not that she was going native, aping the locals, making a spectacle of herself. Rather, it was that her economical and practical exterior, hard as that of a small seed, had burst forth in the most unexpected manner. Stretching her arms, she felt exhilaration surge through her body. In twenty minutes lay the appointment. She thought she would be nervous, now she knew she would not. How fortunate it had been, yielding to Mr. Hardheart's repeated demand that, if she insisted on handing over the sum to be loaned his Lordship personally, it at least be done on the Continent. Her father, of all people, had offered the unlikely encouragement that finally convinced her. He had overheard her refusing, again, to make the journey to Paris, and, after the agent left, remonstrated with his daughter for "shutting herself up in this poky little store." It had hurt, to hear him denigrate their establishment so. Their home, she felt, for they did little more upstairs than eat and sleep. But Reza Schlierbeck was insistent. "You think I lived here all my life?" he asked. "I came here, after many adventures. I like it here fine now, for a man of my age. But you, knoedelichen, you have to see things, kick the dust from your heels, before you decide to settle down." In the end, he had forced her hand by threatening to invite to dinner the widow Klein, a woman clearly smitten with Reza's still lean and romantic profile. "Of course I couldn't if I was alone here," he went on, blithely ignoring Hepzibah's smoldering stare. "It wouldn't look right. But with you as chaperone..." So she gave up the picture of Jeffrey, Eighth Earl of Choir, stooping low to avoid the domino-like knocking of dried salami that formed a bead curtain above the entranceway to her office, and with little more than a guidebook, a letter of credit, and one indispensable item from the fragrant alcove, set off on her journey.

The café table was reserved, the man from the hotel, waiting. She signed a receipt and saw with pleasure the strongbox set down on the round, rose-veined marble. It was a sentimental gesture, having the box here. Flat, chipped, dented deeply, this was the very container Reza had carried his meager savings in when coming to England so long ago. It was only fitting the money should return now, much multiplied by dogged labor, just as she was returning, not the struggling merchant but his successful daughter, to the continent, if not the country, of her ancestors. Indeed, she now saw something providential, clairvoyant, in her having adopted the sobriquet Madame, since France fit her like a glove. It was many things, the smell of the air, the light through trees, but mostly, she reflected, sipping mineral water and watching the world go by, it was just this: the unending theater of people passing. In London people passed too, of course, but bundled up, even in summer, their emotions tightly buttoned, their faces giving away nothing. It was to penetrate this tough carapace and so succeed in her chosen field that Madame Schlierbeck had developed her ability to shrewdly judge, to see past all subterfuge (the conscious and the unconscious), to sense the true motive, worth, and trustworthiness, of her clients. Here, people dressed to show, much as characters in a play attempt to convey even more by their clothes and manner than by their spoken lines. People paraded. You were encouraged to observe. You never felt you were spying, intruding, simply by looking across the street, or into someone's eyes. It would all be for naught, if one did not, for what was the actor without the audience, the parade without the cheering crowd? Faces brimmed here, with happiness, with tears, with hunger, but showed, in a way their English counterparts did not. So she sat, thoroughly at ease, appreciating her fellow humans for the first time, subjecting them not to a narrow, cynical analysis, but offering them an amiable, almost loving acceptance. How rare, she thought, considering her universally despised race, to feel one belongs.

The view was replaced by the Earl of Choir, who sat opposite without asking permission or indeed uttering her name. He was immaculately tailored as always, with a monocle hanging loose on a purple ribbon, his jet-black mustache, and a sprig of lilac in his lapel. He wore scent, she noted, also of lilac. And carried a rapier-thin cane.

"Well," he said insolently, taking out a cigarette case, "gaze your fill."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My agent said you wanted to see me, personally, before completing our transaction. Seemed damned irregular to me but since I have no choice..."

"Our arrangement itself is irregular," Madame Schlierbeck pointed out, watching him wave away the waiter. This was not, she saw, a social call for the Earl. This was not even business. It was a disgusting task and he would make no effort to conceal the fact. His gallantry did not extend, did not descend, to dealings with her kind. It stopped abruptly, as at the edge of a swamp. "I simply wanted to make things clear, face to face."

"It is all spelled out in that paper I signed, isn't it?"

"I am lending you five thousand pounds," she said, patting the top of the strongbox.

--to which his eyes involuntarily swerved, as if a starving animal had been offered meat--

"You, in six month's time, will either pay back the sum, with interest, or agree to marry me."

"Yes, well anything for a good sandwich, I always say."

"I want you to understand the gravity of the agreement you are entering into. I will hold you to your word. There is no other reason for my loaning you this sum. The rate I am offering is far in reduction to what you would get elsewhere. And if the Choir name means anything, you will not suffer it to be soiled by my bringing a suit for Breach of Promise."

He laughed harshly, fit the monocle in his eye and glanced over her with a look of incredulity.

"Madame Schlierbeck," he said sarcastically, "please excuse me if the schoolgirl fantasies of a moneylenderess do not interfere with the day-to-day considerations of a peer. I will take your cash, and at the end of six months I will give it back to you with the blood money you people are so famous for extorting. The tall tale you are telling exists only in your overheated imagination. I am sorry," he gave a mock, seated bow, "to disappoint."

"You intend to marry for the repayment, then?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Your concerns are my concerns. And mine, yours," she added significantly, continuing to rest her hand on the top of the box.

His gaze rested there as well. He pursed his lips.

"What is it you want?" he asked, in a different tone of voice now. "I have come, haven't I? If you wished to see me brought low, if you wished to see me shamed, well, understand: this is humiliation for me, simply my being here, at your beck and call."

"I don't want to shame you," she frowned, not sure this was strictly true. What about that picture she had of him quite literally brought low, stooping to enter the humble precincts of her office? "It is your title that interests me, and your station."

"--both of which would mean nothing if I defiled them with an outrageous marriage. You face the classic climber's dilemma. Wherever you want to get, you will never get there, because by definition it does not include you."

"That is not how I see it," Madame Schlierbeck riposted. "The way I see it, you are the last in a line of old, tired, sterile dead wood. And I am exactly what you so desperately need. New blood. New capital. With my resources, you might actually begin to approximate what a true nobleman should be, one whose actions are backed by authority, one whose word is law. You think people bow to you now, but they snigger behind your back. 'There goes the penniless Earl,' they whisper. If you put me in charge of your lands, I guarantee in ten years you will be free and clear of all debts, in twenty years, the luster of the Choir arms will be restored to their former glory, and in thirty years, god willing, you will be the practically independent ruler of a small kingdom, with greater powers than, say, your great-great grandfather ever had."

"Are you applying to become my bailiff or my wife?"

"I am proposing to be your partner, in every sense of the word."

Choir, amused, raised his hand. A waiter appeared.

"Will you drink with me?" he asked. "No? Well I need something. Cognac." He returned his eyes to Hepzibah. "I cannot decide if you wish to save my soul, or claim it."

"I wish to be the Lady of Choir Castle," she shrugged.

"Understand," he said gravely. "I will marry before the six months is up. I already have my sights trained on the most eligible of heiresses."

"No doubt. But perhaps you will come to realize that the union I propose is in your own best interest. That is what I wished to tell you, personally, not to see you beg, but to make you think."

"Very well. Then this will be less a loan and more in the nature of a bet. Though it is not my habit to wager with ladies."

She smiled, acknowledging the compliment, and took off the small, heart-shaped locket that hung round her neck. Free of that possible entanglement, she slowly began to draw up the links of her gold chain. Like hauling a bucket from a deep well, Choir thought, trying not to appear eager. Finally, the key to the strongbox appeared.

"Five thousand pounds. Please count it and sign this receipt."

"Oh, I trust you," the Earl said, pocketing the thick wads of notes.

"As you like. Sign here."

He did, with surprising care, his tongue stuck partway out, as if he had just learned how to write.

"Where will you go now?" Madame Schlierbeck asked, taking advantage of his distracted attention to examine more fully his physique. He was actually somewhat small, but firm and well-knit. She felt a flicker go through her, the lingering aftereffects of Monsieur Robert's massage, no doubt, and resisted the temptation to reach out and touch the curly head bent over the document.

"My clothes are in shocking condition," he said, completing the signature with a flourish. "While here, I intend to order a new wardrobe, then return later and oversee the fittings."

It was easy to see why people underestimated the Earl, taking his rather insipid manner (which was genuine, he really was preoccupied, already, with the relative merits of the paisley versus the polka dot) for an expression of his true nature. But just as a cheetah can appear the epitome of laziness when at rest, then bound off to outrun an antelope, so Choir, despite a hunger for the ephemeral, the worthless and impractical, could act with swift decisiveness and cunning when it was in his interest to do so. Indeed, only then. It was this queer blend that attracted, or let us say, excited Hepzibah. His dual nature made the loan--yes, he was right--something in the nature of a gamble. It was exciting that he was not so boringly predictable as her other clients had all proved to be.

"Are there geese at Choir Castle?" she asked.

"Geese? Yes. And chickens, and ducks, and goats. They wander through the dining hall, which resembles nothing so much as a station platform nowadays, with no furniture and the roof in tatters."

She signalled for the hotel servant, who came and took away the strongbox.

"I must go," she said, holding out her hand.

He kissed it, enjoying the slight blush he thought he detected.

"In six month's time, then?" Hepzibah smiled.

"You shall receive an invitation long before then," he promised. "But you people are not permitted to enter the Abbey, are you?"

Alone, Choir had the waiter bring him another drink. He was so giddy with excitement at being once again in funds he knew it was best to sit, not run off wildly and start buying whatever came to eye. Be sensible, part of him warned. But he knew he would not feel fully alive until he had made his first extravagant purchase. The silk smoking jackets of the rue Dalier beckoned. A locket rested on the table. Yes, she had taken it off when extracting the key. He picked it up and looked for Madame Schlierbeck, but she was already gone. I shall pass it on to Hardheart, he thought, who shall return it along with the loan once I am able to sell off the Shepperton estate. The ludicrous image of Hepzibah tossing grain to the assorted livestock of Choir Castle made him shake his head. What was the world coming to?

In Rome, the Duchess Middleton was entertaining similar thoughts. There are Jews everywhere, she scowled, mistaking the Holy Father himself (perhaps because of the office's tiny white skullcap) for his illustrious predecessor. A contingent of Swiss Guards nearly ran her down. The Eternal City was a dangerous place. She would never have come here at all, certainly not in October, had it not been a question of duty. The Duchess was very conscious of her role as matriarch of the Bourneville clan. It gave her actions meaning. She was a representative, a dignitary, even if these greasy heathens refused to acknowledge the fact. Of course the only way to get respect from foreigners is to wave a piece of gaudy play money under their rather pronounced noses, she told herself. But, here incognito, she suffered the outrages of the solitary traveller in silence. Anything for family. The via del Corso gave onto a more crowded street. To escape, or rather to more fully enter the heat, families dined out on the roadway itself, wax-spattered bottles sporting candles whose flames shone feebly in the still-bright dusk. Horses, used, apparently, to fettucine on cobblestone, picked their way around the various repasts, their great tongues lolling, drool pooling in soft corners of elongate jaws. I am in Hell itself, she fantasized, which I would gladly traverse with the family scutcheon held high, and ferry it unsullied to the opposite shore. But there was the contrasting, nagging notion that she was only wading deeper into a morass, not simply meddling, but having taken an actual wrong turn in the real world. She was too timid to consult the map the owner of her pensione had scrawled on the torn page of a French novel. Walking towards my doom! she thrilled, seeing a boy with no shirt, thin, and with just the start of manhood about him, advance on her with a glass of red champagne.

"I have no money," she said, thinking he meant to sell her refreshment. This stark admission she would have never made in London, where it was simply assumed any Bourneville was rich. So Italy, even to those not seeking it, encourages visitors to cleanse themselves with simple truths. In fact "airs" were mostly what the Duchess lived on.

But the child insisted, holding forth the goblet, which was heavy cut glass, not all what one served sparkling wine in, so that the round surface fizzed like a lake situated in a volcano's crater.

"No!" she cried again. The boy had an idiot's wolf-like smile.

"Lambrusco!" someone called.

Surely being summoned by name would make him break off. But he only motioned again, exaggerated his already outstretched offer, causing the wine to slop and spill towards her, one red drop catching the late Roman sun.

"Signora." A man had gotten up and was lumbering over. "It is Lambrusco, a wine of celebration. My boy asks you to drink to our daughter's health."

"Oh." She saw now the wedding party, charmingly grouped before one of the subsiding tenements.

"It is custom," the man went on, taking the glass from the boy and handing it to her. "A stranger gives her blessing."

"I will indeed." She felt the bubbles bite her lip.

"Miranda." The father pointed out each member of the multitude. "Her husband, Sergio. Sergio's mother, Alma..." And on it went. The Duchess nodded at each in turn, with a vague smile she hoped conveyed her lofty beneficence. "And two of your own countrymen who live here in the quartiere."

She had by now unconsciously drunk half the glass and felt less a sense of violation at the man's sweaty, garlicky presence. But seeing the very people she had come in search of, seated comfortably among the other celebrants, the Duchess stiffened, took a deep breath, much as an actress does before stepping out from the wings, and advanced on the unsuspecting pair.

"What did you ever do with my macaw?" Bradley Ghoulrich was asking.

"He was very good with parsley sauce," Lutwidge Finch recalled.

"Tell me you are joking."

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