#and i need to show the compassion and understanding i'd want someone else to show me during times like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rennyji · 5 months

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painting a picture -- sorry not my favorite post to point to -- has to be said

So my mom has been unexpectedly off or on leave from work.

Is it to incite grievances one way or the other to further a project by creating a setting?

Is it because I’m writing about my situation and that implies I’m less hinged?

Do the orchestrators think that they can show utmost care to situation by leaving mom off when Renny is writing?

You screw my head, put me through shock therapy 20 times, notify people of me regardless of which external setting, and you think people are retarded to believe you were careful, Mr/Mrs Orchestrator?

But I could be wrong. I’m pretty pissed with my decade plus long situation. The orchestrators already pulled the most unbelievable situation.

Hey caring b*stards! in the orchestrators Did you think about what that leads the mind to wonder about, when you turn everything upside down?

How are you going to justify frying my brain 20 times with electro convulsive therapy? Where was your caring mindset…but wai, I'm still unsure if the extended leave my mom is taking, is about a facade to indicate care from the orchestrator's possible directive.

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You know what else slips, in terms of detail, through everyday interactions?

The woman who allegedly hijacked my call to the FBI happened to be of a black accent as she screamed “stop calling us” while impersonating the FBI. The FBI is expected to be trained for the psychology of difficult situations or people. And they’re yelling “stop calling” without any input from me doesn't imply compassion, but aggression.

But then this is the world we live in…you have a mob of people robbing an Apple Store in Philadelphia.

Congress, society’s elite, breaks into fist fights.

Someone in court, was reported by the news, as jumping or pouring on the overseeing judge.

Is it too much of a stretch to assume kids that I complained about, or people I complained about, ages ago, were given unprecedented access to high end technology?

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What do other people get from my situation? Normally, by knowing what’s possible and impossible, legal and illegal, people get sanity and structure to their lives. Doesn't doing this to my life, leaving me an opportunity in history or a Guinness book, doesn't this uproot how people understand their lives?

What does my situation do for me and others?

Some of the things that happen in my vicinity:

Right from the gitgo: insults to my features, be it lighter skin tone or size of lips.

Next, when I go for TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation therapy for ADD) consultation, something, maybe own history/experience, gets nurse in New Jersey, outside of Yonkers and Westchester, to ask me if I have kids I don’t know about.

When I go to CVS, while I’m getting causal snacks for a casual movie night, you have people trying to fight over $5. Sometimes I wonder if it's bait for me to comment on. But I see this...

I’m forced in a situation, where I’m forced into behavioral health centers, where I’m around guys who’ve been arrested, fans of terms like bird dogging, haters of soft hands, guys saying “I want my money/where’s my $1000."

I’m forced out of a job and put into the Social Security system where I’m talking to defiant people you don’t feel comfortable asking questions. It takes forever to reach some1 and you end up living off minimal monthly money, like you don’t have two degrees, since no one seems to want to give me a job because of my situation.

At Bank of America and PepsiCo, the focus was always to get me to go on coffee breaks or writing long emails. No one would take me seriously. What does that do to a psych?! You take initiative to talk to people, through Zoom, in India, late at night, or Australia, or people in Texas. You're told don't get involved. You press someone to provide needed information for a project, for months, they keep telling you they'll do it, but don't, and manager doesn't press them. At Bank of America, I'd go to work on Saturdays to train myself in their technology. When assigned something, I do it, try to have someone check it over, and they basically flip me off. A lot of my peers surprised when I indicate I have any type of technical know how. All this evidence indicates the jobs I do get are just to physically get me out of the house, in a public setting, put through something to find out how my mind communicates by having people engage in random conversations or disputes with me, via conversation or email.

but I digress, I'm trying to paint a picture:

When I went to Binghamton, the first time I’m in front of their information commons: a vast and advanced computer lounge for 200 students, the orchestrators project their interest in seeing opportunity for the under funded SUNY Albany.

Binghamton, outside of Albanys nanoscale engineering school, is better funded, allegedly, because of it being the Harvard of the SUNYs.

It gets that reputation from admitting students with higher grades and test scores. One could argue targeting that subset of students also attracts common personalities. When I started out as an engineering major there, just by saying my major to someone, people understood, I'm booked with books for the next four years.

SUNY Albany is well reputed party school. Stating my major here didn't have the same results.

People upstate may have a different mindset because they get admissions and transfers from local community colleges and regular colleges in the vicinity.

The students I interacted with there, were local, or from places like Brooklyn vs. Bronxville or New Rochelle reputed to having better school systems.

The accusations by students or faculty in my vicinity, at SUNY Albany, is whether I’m on drugs - since people are allegedly helping me somehow someway- along with accusations of whether I’m mean to invisible women, or woman, singular.

I’m seen as a nasty/impolite/spoiled man as a student then and in present time. Whose viewpoints are these? Do white people, beyond olds school whites running troubled kids tv shows have this perspective? Do black American women have this focus on discipline, that they think ur lacking in?

This isn't me being racist. Sometimes when people like my mother speak, in what they say, how they say it: I feel like I'm hearing the echo of someone else, like an attitude I'm used to seeing from lots of television.

Next thing in painting a picture:

I’m around people who want to bait me into a conversation about Jamaican people having parents that are strict about their children’s education…

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My working class parents, whose hard work over the years gave me my house and heat and whatever, gave me a good high school where we were educated on what kind of men to be. We wore blazers and had laptops before they were the norm. I spent my lunchtimes in study halls or visiting a chapel, because of something I remember hearing: people grow distant from their faith as they get older. I wanted to avoid that. We were taught to be leaders. It leads to being an engineering major at, when its a state university, a good state university, or what ended up being known as the Harvard of the SUNYs.

It’s funny: if I knew I was going to Albany, I could have taken the scholarship from initial admission, vs the paid tuition from being a transfer.

---

So, I'm sorry, if you took the time to read this, and this sounds bad, or if it's not connecting well. It's about a vibe I'm getting and not something I'm intently motivated to articulating, like mindfulness. It's not me retelling for the 100 billionth time, the story of how I got to the present day: January 17th. If this post puts you off, I hope it doesn't stop you from reading the other things in the Tumblr link/post that directed you here. As per what's on twitter (handle: @rennyji ), there's some good stuff and there's some bad stuff. Its twitter. I usually make points based on the news or philosophy or the state of the world, but there is also, from hindsight, some garbage like me realizing American's over use of toilet paper in place of soap and water. Things factoring into that: I saw an advertisement for a product called LUMI, that you apply to a particular crack, and when. you're a first generation American like myself, you wonder if the things you do, are the same way everyone in America does things.

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But about that picture that I feel I'm getting vibe toward, from things coming to my attention:

So I’m big lipped, a Michael Jackson skin color obsessor, I’m on drugs, I’m aggressive, I’m mean to women, I’m entitled?!, I’m a disobedient son, I have kids I don’t know about, and let’s use him to get funding for our school by showing what another SUNY is receiving by comparing computer lounges.

On that last note, Binghamton takes 3.9 gpas and higher SAT scores. Why wouldn’t they get bigger funding, mr and Mrs suny Albany, when you attract smaller scores? No one talks about this, it's something understood, but now we're on a stage where it needs to be said. There's a college for everyone.

Now, I'm saying this again. I hope I don't come off as prejudiced.

I keep talking about the golden rule. If you know my mind, are reading it, know my thoughts/memories, you know then, that I see all people the same way, and try to sum up a person by their character vs. their physical appearance. I make it a prayer.

But I feel I need to say this because the theme keeps coming up: Is one demographic from Albany, who angrily hijacked my calls and a proponent of discipline, using me to further their interests and for their people, while making me look like a fool in front of Indians?

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I don't know how my parents convey to their Church community that they had their son sent to a hospital by through the police semi arresting him, because a situation needs my mind probed. Is it shown? I'm assuming everything's shown. In this regard, and my situation as a whole, I take the pessimistic route to receiving the fruits of optimism; or I assume the worst possible situation where I'm naked in every regard, to get that fruit of optimism being a sense of control and peace of mind.

---

If its not the minority oriented demographic of SUNY Albany, I've wondered if, conversely, this is a middle aged white woman (from probably the alleged show for troubled kids), or now older white woman-grandma class), who thinks I’m some dirty minority, in accordance with elitist white thinking.

----

someone is making the claim that they think my life is easy? In comparison to who?

Among Indian people, I’m the product of working class parents who decided to do what they can, to give their son a leg up, through education for a better future.

Are the whites or blacks in this, making a point from experience with THEIR families and friends?

I mean to ask me if I have kids I don’t know about or if I’ve beaten my roommates, or simply taking their side when they make claims out of envy over something I don't even know about?

My life went from having a leg up, to being bashed to the floor. .

When I first started college as an engineer, I got more than the benefit of doubt, I was the guy to know.

But then something happens. As I start noticing increased attention towards me, during my latter years there, people who don't like me or want an excuse to snap at me because of some inadequacy in their life, were getting fueled by something.

Everyone has something and everything going for them. But there was something that made people direct what seemed to be heated envy.

But moving forward, I said I went from having a leg up in life, to the complete opposite.

At these behavioral health centers, they make you walk without shoes from building to building, have someone patrol your side, make you piss into bottles in front of your roommate, squat to make sure you don’t have cocaine up your a*s.

What a mind f*. I'm privileged to have my parents, but I'm unfortunate, in the sense that, if a teacher or authority figure says something bad about me, they're inclined to believe them, than me.

Whoever the American orchestrators are, you’re insulting your own kind, be it white or black with the things you put me through, or these questions and assumptions about drugs, illegitimate children, curiosity as to why I'm not hitting the bars. That’s how you see yourselves or your kind? This is how you see people or what constitutes a difficult life?-pissing in a bottle at a mental institution?

I’ve been posting on twitter recently and you see some violent things on the twitter newsfeed, and it raises an eyebrow like at the beginning of this Apple note in the Note app.. who are you making me a role model or example or anti example for? For who are you making America better? Indian people? White people? Black people? America as a whole? If it's America as a whole and the world is witnessing it, is me pissing into a bottle across hospitalizations what you want to project as the American gold standard? If its about Indian people, our problems are problems when we don’t study or go to Church.

Some of these characters on twitter swing bats at students in grade school.

If an Indian has a bat, it’s because they want to feel safe while closing their grocery store. They don’t have the imagination or aspiration for something major like a gun or shooting someone. This is at a time when I'm put in public awareness, from evidence and observation and the police aren’t acknowledging my situation.

I took bold moves to confronting my situation. As this seemed to be internet hack related, I visited the FBI office in Bethlehem, New York, just to start a conversation about odd things I've noticed. In America, shouldn't you be able to talk to a police officer without fear or being taken to a mental institution? When I went there, 2 FBI agents are wondering why “the guy from that” is in our location (from their expressions<-they looked at each other, middle aged male and female, perplexed...how do they know I'm not "that" guy and instead "some other guy" looking to report violence or a cyber attack or something else that falls under FBI jurisdiction...isn't that why they have an office? i.e. if someone wants to talk to an agent; to be accessible). But to closing the lid on the bat I held in my backseat, At a time of killings and fightings in schools, as seen on channels like Fox News, why are you reading into my actions when I leave baseball bat in the back seat of my car or have pepper spray, in taking the protective measures of a teenage girl?

It's not a gun. But my possession of a baseball bat made the orchestrators and my family think I'm out for blood. Based on what? No one knows. Then my pot smoking roommates at SUNY Albany decided to gang up on me and push me into my room for hinting at buying cleaning supplies for our bathroom. Completely random. They then reported me as having hit them, when it was them that pushed me into my room, after which I closed my door. Is that why I'm assumed as being dangerous with a bat? Because of someone else's lie? And these guys don't let up. Their ring leader, not to stereotype, but a big frat guy bad mouths me every time I walk by. If we happen to be in the bathroom at the same time, I ignore him, he ignores me, and at a vulnerable moment, he throws paper tissues my way.

All I can assume is that people had a reason to be randomly envious or angry at me or to light some short fuses.

Whether its elderly white people running a troubled kids show, or a black community hating me because they think I'm elitist for taking a stand, through words, about my situation, ummm Cultural clash much? Wrong image or perception with the wrong people?

Regarding a girl I once liked, to whom I believed a connection with the random kids causing me problems, I eventually lost interest because the friends seemed to paint a picture, considering they looked off or maybe too cool for my tastes. I was looking for someone that I could bother, spend my time around, attend to, or do stuff with, hover around. It's based on a childhood memory. I recently saw a movie about a love story that happens with a woman who suffers from insomnia. She dreams of someone who she can fall asleep with. On a straight note, when I sit next to my brother and lean toward his shoulder, I fall asleep from being happy he's around - I say this because with my situation? I have trouble falling asleep. So I'm going to add that to the list in my adult years: I want someone I can fall asleep next to. When I was in kindergarten, my first friend was this Indian girl. When she moved because of her father's job change, it's been my lifelong desire to gain that again. I just enjoyed patrolling her while she circled with her friends. I couldn't have that experience again growing up because of Indians frowning on girlfriends for high school kids. So I thought I could embark on it in college.

Regarding these random kids and them wanting me to go out, go out and do what?

I see white kids roaming the streets of Tuckahoe, New York. I say it as an observation. Could they be roaming together to help pay for things as a group or because their homes don’t have siblings or facilities or things to do or cable? I've often thought, if I can do this life again, I wouldn't care too much about grades in high school, would focus more on SATs (as I had a 4.0 GPA at a Prep school, but because of average SAT scores from I guess not using the big vocab words with my Indian family...on that note, for the past decade plus, I've been mostly at home speaking in my parents native dialect: you forget certain words or end up sounding foreign...on another related note, by New York State standards, I aced my Regents exams and got a Regents Diploma with Advanced Distinction with Honor, but when applying to Johns Hopkins, Harvard, Columbia, SAT scores were what mattered...but that's a different topic...) And if I were to do this life again, with present tech, and I was in high school, I guess on friend would subscribe to Netflix, another to Hulu, another to HBO Max, another would have an xBox, we'd split fries and shakes at fast food places...but I''m an adult now with these things and am not reliant on others. My goal, as an adult is to amass needs and luxuries in my home. At this point, I really don't want to be bothered. I mean, as you get older, who wants to be bothered or go out unnecessarily. My dad got a deal on a projector screen from a local restaurant. It’s good quality. I have a movie theater style setting. I have food to eat, heat to be in the cold.

Why are you getting on my case to get me to roam the streets?

I’m not at the age to roam with gang like groups.

I should be married, my world should be my wife and my future kids.

I have a gym in my house, and then for this circus, I go to external or outside gyms.

This comes off as either a white demographic and/black demographic trying to help yourselves.

I hate how I'm being used by the various demographics in this for their demographics and how, above all, F* me, I'm used for a government project. The anger in me wants to say "Attend to your people with your people and stop bothering my family and me."

***

And then something else that slips from the mouth of my psychiatrist. Through his speech and content of speech, he indicates an unwise idea, from some a*s hole, to have me seen by non Indian non Desi non Indian/Pakistani doctors.

Basic college psychology talks about cultural clashes.

How retarded are the orchestrators to ignore something so elemental?

You, the orchestrators are making yourselves and your people look bad with how you run this show/situation and clearly project your experiences and perceptions of your world. You show all this through what you put me through.

From what I’m seeing on tv 'right now' midnight Jan 17 on Jimmy Fallon, a biological middle aged male, with eye popping red lipstick and a skirt, your world is clearly too exotic for me. Simply because these are new sights for my culture. Myself and my community, we're plugged into the motions of our world. To get you to understand the WTF sensation I experience from being in my situation for a decade: its like that lipstick guy coming at me and saying he's going to destroy my life for more than a decade. This has nothing to do with him. I'm trying to indicate how I dunno exotic? or out of the box Americans as a people come off, with their demands, and views, and appearances. Your world in all its modern themes really collides with my bubble with the bubble of your world and pops mine. Popping bubbles isn't always a good thing when it relates to real life themes, metaphorically.

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(On a side note, I think there are lots of people who wish they were girls or girls who wish they were guys. By making this wish a fluid thing that you can do something about, you end up with people that look out of place, in the name of pride. How many mothers of, at least the past generation, wish they were their sons, out of males I n society having more say, especially among burka wearing Muslim communities. Does that mean that wish should come true? Is the cat walk genetic or cultural? If it's cultural, is it necessary? The Pride parade is justified...but then, on tv, you have biological males put their crotch on the railings of their parade float. That's pride?! All people deserve equal rights and the right to live freely. I know, from my experience, how important freedom is. But things that float through my mind, that I don't act on: could those with same sex feelings, if males, maybe like a masculine muscular woman/tom boys or could females with same sex feelings be looking for a male in touch with their feminine inside or less beefy in body stature? I don't know what's right or wrong in this, and I hope I won't have to decide on it for my progeny. I feel this is one more area where religion trumps over psychiatry. What happens in the mind? You have a rule or a story to compare to: Adam/Eve. The female Eve complements the male Adam from being made from part of his ribs. You become aware of that rule, you believe that rule. You accept that rule. That forms the framework of your mind, including what's possible and impossible. It's something children in kindergarten should have as a foundation, regardless of who they're meant to be. I'm guy walking between two realities, one where something is happening and one where something isn't happening. It makes my face feel like it's falling off when remembrance of that awareness comes up. Children should have some black and white rule/notions without confusing them or encouraging them to think or fantasize about a biology that isn't theirs. It gives structure and limits to thinking on what's possible/impossible, or what deserves a thought or a reverie or an extended time for pondering.

I'm as straight as a pencil. But I also have beliefs "as appropriate for my life" with no judgement on others. The orchestrators of my situation? They're playing with a person's consciousness or conscious stream along with physical attributes. So what I'm I getting at? Consciousness is like an onion, and what does Shrek say about onions? They have layers. Consciousness has layers. So going back to the consciousness awareness of males should be males and females/females and opposite genders marrying each other, that's one layer of consciousness. Another layer might be a temptation to hit on someone other than your girlfriend or your wife. Another layer of consciousness might be thought or curiosity about affection toward someone of the same gender. The idea is we probably shouldn't over focus or adhere to some of these layers, because they're just layers. With different subjects outside of who we each love or fall for, the orchestrators of my situation have pruned my consciousness. So in the example of love, the layer of the onion that tempts you to hit on someone else, disappears. The layer that tempts you to hit on someone of the same gender disappears. Two layers of the onion gone. What's left is the rule from religion that you adhere to: love between male/female.

"Consciousness pruning" might be something just figured out now, but then what does that say about those who go the extra mile to change their gender from a simple wish, or those who fall for the same gender? Again not that there is anything wrong with it. Just trying to paint the layers to our thinking and consciousness. But one things for sure: In the words of Nick Fury to Captain America after waking up from cryo sleep, its just one more thing that feeds this notion: "The world has gotten stranger." Look at my situation: you have a country, a world, acting on a conspiracy against one individual. ---

On a similar note, America is a place where you’ll go for a Covid shot, and out of apparent politeness, an American soldier administering the shot or taking your info, will ask you, a male for 35 years, whether you’ve ever been pregnant.

But yeah, everything’s about political correctness and good treatment, but again, a country where youth and government and school faculty illegally run lives - adds to theme of your world being too exotic for my simple parents and me. It's not so much we, or me, are strange. But these kids orchestrating, faculty orchestrating, doctors orchestrating, government/law enforcement orchestrating: you're the strange ones.

My brother, without this craziness, is now a specialized doctor at a Harvard/Cleveland clinic type setup. Thanks for ruining my life, orchestrators. If my family background contributed to my brothers success, you gotta wonder what’s in his life and what’s in my life? What’s the thing causing people to envy me(hate filled jealousy) and trying to screw me over, time and time again?

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rgthoughts · 9 months

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09/12/2023

I've had such a high expectation for myself and others in my life, overall everyone around me. I learned one of my strongest WHY's is I am not an ordinary person. I know I am made for greatness and I believe that for not only myself but everyone else around me. I have compassion and understanding of people but it also hurts when things don't go the way I imagined. I guess that's the challenge I am faced with. I grew up always having a plan, the obvious plan and having a back up knowing how things could possibly go. I shoot for the main plan because it typically is the best plan and route. But I figure thats never how life is supposed to go. Life happens and situations happen the exact opposite or just anything else other than the original plan you have set in place. I always lived on stress and last minute because things never go as planned for me. I bet a lot of people would relate to that. I may sound like a typical human being, but thats where I know I am not just a simple, typical, ordinary human being. I truly believe I can make things happen exactly how I have it planned. - insert God laughing here - Exactly. I still have yet to find my purpose in this life. I just know that for who I am, I know God is on my side but yet, the problem is I am not full heartedly leaving my life in His hands, trusting God. The problem there became present recently and I realized, I don't have the relationship and connection fully with God. I always felt I was one of God's special angel's on this earth. I always felt protected but I took too much advantage of that type of feeling that I probably and possibly left the ones that matter most to me tired, exhausted, working so hard - to make me happy and I've lost gratitude or at least with showing them. I always feel like I need the credit when I'm not doing more than even half of what others do for me. I am spoiled, I am given everything I want and need. Yet, I feel dissatisfied. Where is all this coming from? I get into this dark place where I feel I'm being blamed and I act out just so someone can just console me and tell me I am the greatest thing. I don't even know how it feels to hear those type of words/feelings. I do remember when I did hear them, I'd feel bashful, I'd feel its not real, I don't just accept the kindness of what people truly feel towards me. I never believed it. I know I am loved, I am cherished, I am important. I guess it comes from believing. I don't believe it myself. This is where I get present to the lack of belief in myself and if I can truly be who God already has chosen for myself to be. I have good - GREAT things in my life. I always yearn for more. Am I working towards it though? Am I really putting the effort? I don't like the thought of settling for any less, yet -- does it reflect in what I do everyday? Is there anything I am doing physically/mentally to really go after what I say I truly want? Its the beliefs I've set in my mind that no matter what, God is there and He will take care of it. So yes, I sit back and sometimes not do anything until it comes down to making it happen based on urgency. I hate this way of living because the feelings that go through my heart, mind, body - I feel low, I feel like giving up. I know God is giving me the strength at the last stretch and most likely He's been giving me the strength and pouring on me his blessings and grace but I'm not hearing Him - He may be tired of it too how I choose to move forward, the choices I've been making thinking this is the way He was choosing for me to live. Correction - I haven't been hearing Him. I haven't accepted His grace. I haven't left my trust in Him. -- Actually, haven't really left trust in anyone, really but worse kus He is our almighty powerful God. I keep saying, I'm still discovering myself, discovering this life, discovering what I need to do when in reality, its right there in front of me. JUST DO. Why am I so hard-headed, the only one in my way is me.

I pray, God, to be a better mother. I pray, God, to be a better partner/lover. I pray, God, to be a better sister. I pray, God, to be a better daughter. I pray, God, to be a better person. I pray, God, to have complete confidence. I pray, God, to be someone to inspire others. I pray, God, to be someone that makes a difference in this life. I pray, God, to trust others around me. I pray, God, to stand out of my own way. I pray, God, to love whole heartedly, genuinely. I pray, God, to be proud of myself. I pray, God, to be free from any distractions. I pray, God, to be free from negativity. I pray, God, to be free from the stories and making meaning to things that can possibly tear me down and others around me. I pray, God, to reach success in all areas of my life. I pray, God, to be present; Feel the happiness, joy, excitement of life. I pray, God, to truly believe in you and myself. I pray, God, to clear my mind and hear you. I pray, God, to let go and just trust.

Amen. Looking to you for guidance and an open ear and heart to hear you. I will do as you say. I pray to give in to you and accept the help, guidance, the direction. Love, your angel: RG.

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love-and-monsters · 2 years

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Dating a Hive Mind pt. 1

M/GN aliens X F human, 7,948 words

This one wasn't meant to be a two parter, but I realized I'd spent too long on the beginning and I need more time to finish it, so... Enjoy part one, at least! This one's a bit of a writing experiment for me, so a bit different than some of my others. Hopefully you at least enjoy the differing style, if nothing else.

It took Uru the better part of a year to convince me to meet his family, and that was only after he got persistent about it. We’d been dating for a year and a half, and we’d been communicating for almost three. The first time he asked was the first time we met in person, after a year of talking. I said no. He remained undeterred.

My reasons for not wanting to go were twofold. The first was a matter of simple practicality. Space travel, despite the invention of intrastellar tunneling, took a long time. Most people likened it to crossing the ocean way back before Earth had things like airplanes. Weeks of being stuck in a too-small container, getting tossed and turned by occasional gravity pockets and subsisting on the always-bland space food. In some ways, it was worse than traveling across the ocean- at least the pilgrims had been able to go outside.

(That said, the lack of disease and rats were the main reasons spaceflight was an improvement on sea travel- that and the presence of in-flight entertainment.)

All that to say that space travel sucked and I wasn’t interested in spending several weeks trapped inside a space tunneler, even if it was private. Uru had been accepting enough of that reason at first, but the longer he wore at me, the more both of us were coming to realize that there was a larger, secondary reason for not going.

That reason was, and is, very simple: I was nervous.

Uru dealt with that with an equal measure of compassion and frustration.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he reassured over and over, again and again. “They already love you. This is just so they can really get to see you, meet you in person. You’ve shown me so much about Earth. I want to show you what Arakoss’tinel is like.”

His words were gentle, but I could still hear the undercurrent in his voice and see the way his feathers stood up. He was trying to hide it, but he was frustrated. Annoyed with me, since I was giving him what he considered to be a very poor excuse for meeting his family.

And it would have been a poor excuse, to him. He tried to be understanding, he really did, but ‘social anxiety’ just doesn’t exist for his species like it does ours. There’s no need for it. He exercised caution when meeting new people, of course, and was apprehensive on trusting everyone right away. But he had no real anxiety around other people. He didn’t need it. There was no worry about rejection, none of that bone-deep fear of being turned away, disliked, the odd member out. For him, there never would be. And that constituted the real reason I was so nervous about meeting his family.

Because what in the hell was the procedure for meeting a nearly hundred-thousand participant hive mind?

‘Hive mind’ was sort of a loaded term- too many people heard it and started thinking about the Borg or some kind of giant nest of ants that all thought as one and either killed you or made you one of them. ‘Conglomerate intelligence’ was the test phrase being floated, which exchanged the 'bug-like’ connotations for ‘probably a robot’ ones. I’d asked Uru which one he’d preferred, once. He’d given me the sort of blank stare you’d expect from someone whose grasp on human culture and human language in general was rough at best and asked what the difference was.

There didn’t seem to be any useful distinction, and ‘hive mind’ had four syllables of convenience on ‘conglomerate intelligence,’ so that was what we used. Uru didn’t care, or seem to even understand the subtleties of language- his species had a language, but it was never as focused on being precise. It didn’t need to be; if you could telepathically share thoughts, why bother using more precise words? You already knew what they were thinking. Language was reserved primarily for the purpose of sending messages to other hives, or for diplomatic engagements.

It had been a testament to his skill that Uru had picked up English at all, though he noted that it had been bolstered by others in his hive helping him pick it up. After three years, one of which spent with a writer, he was nearly fluent.

Nearly fluent meant he understood all the words, but knowing the cultural context was something else entirely, and the cultural gaps were huge. Uru had, I was pretty sure, all but given up on trying to understand the concept of gender. Explaining gendered pronouns to him had been, as far as I’d heard, quite an experience in frustration, and attempting to teach him a language with gendered nouns had nearly given him a fit. It stemmed mostly from the fact that the hives didn’t use gendered pronouns at all, and attempting to explain to Uru that he should pick a set of pronouns to use had been utterly bewildering.

I wasn’t there for it, but apparently, he’d picked he/him because his first introduction to gender has been along the lines of anatomical sex, and he’d assumed it was based on physical characteristics exclusively. By the time that assumption had been corrected, he’d been marked down as male on several important documents and didn’t care enough to change it. His actual grasp on pronouns was still shaky, but he’d at least gotten to the ‘try to ask first’ stage. And he did have to ask- the idea of differentiating different genders on looks alone was completely lost on him.

In fact, nearly everything in human culture was completely perplexing to Uru. Some of it, like gender, just frustrated him. Other aspects he was genuinely fascinated with.

That ended up being how we met, more or less. I should preface this by saying that I’m a writer, but I’m not actually a good writer. I’m not a bad writer either, even if I feel like one about eighty percent of the time. I write romance novels- not exactly bodice rippers, but maybe only a couple steps up the quality ladder. They’ve got a modest audience, but they’re still kind of something you’d pick up in a space hopper port. This is a winding way to say that while I make enough (barely) to survive as an author, but very few people would be able to recognize me or name anything I’ve written.

So, receiving a very enthusiastic letter from the alien ambassador of a massive hive mind explaining in detail exactly how much he enjoyed my books was about the most surreal experience I’d ever had.

I don’t really even know how he ended up getting ahold of one of my books. All the ambassadors were given cultural materials in order to understand humans better, but I’d sort of assumed they were going to be things like F. Scott Fitzgerald or Terry Pratchett or something along those lines, the kind of stuff they taught in school. At the very least, I figured they would give the ambassadors something generally popular. The fact that my books were in the pile makes me wonder if they just raided the nearest secondhand bookstore at some point- apparently Uru in particular was a voracious reader.

Generally, I suspect Uru’s fascination was at least in part because my books were the most straightforward romance novels he received. Most humans would consider him something of a romantic, though his species lacks the concept. The idea of romance was fascinating in and of itself to him, and his introduction to it through my (admittedly a bit idealized) stories created something of an impression. I think he sort of imprinted on my books more because they were his first introduction to the concept rather than them being particularly good examples of human art.

Regardless of the reason why, he asked for and received most of my books. At some point during their reading, he’d realized that authors are real people and that you can actually communicate with them.

His first contact with me was a series of highly enthusiastic letters. Real, physical letters, too- it wasn’t the first time I’d received a physical letter, but it was the first time it had several government seals and a classified stamp on it. The English had been clumsy, but endearing, in a way. After the third letter, I wrote him back. Gradually, our correspondence took on the character of pen pals rather than a fan and an author.

When I received the official invitation to have a meeting with him, I was only halfway surprised. He’d stated several times that he wanted to meet me in his letters. I’d been skeptical if we would be able to- ambassadors didn’t often interact with the general public. But he’d seemed so insistent that I couldn’t really imagine him not getting his way for long.

It took several weeks of planning back and forth for me to arrange everything. But eventually, I was holding a stack of signed books and waiting in a holding room until they got Uru to come out to me.

After about an hour of waiting and then twenty minutes of security checks, I was ushered into a back room. It was oddly decorated- presumably with Uru’s comfort in mind. Glittering crystalline structures grew out of the walls, all looking oddly complex for natural growths. Several of them branched in odd ways, curling back in on themselves or spreading into flat sheets along the wall. Strange fibers stretched between them, creating something partially woven- it looked a bit like knitting, but as far as you can tell, the fibers used for yarn were still part of a living plant. There was some human furniture among them, just a desk and a bed that seemed out of place with the rest of the room. Given the amount of dust on both, the occupant never used them. The only piece of human furniture that seemed used was a bookshelf, which was stuffed full, with books spilling out onto the floor. A lot of them had that worn, white cracking on their spines, like they’d been open over and over again.

I’d crouched to examine the books, noting how many of the cracked ones were mine, when the door opened.

“Hello!” Uru took two massive steps toward me, arms spread, then stopped with visible restraint. I straightened, shifting the books in my arms. He was practically bounding in place, making an odd sort of clicking noise in the back of his throat.

My first impression of him was that he was tall. Not only was his body sort of long and gangly, but he had a neck longer than a human. It looked somewhat incongruous with the human-like face on the end, though the mane of blue and yellow feathers helped make it look more natural. The feathers covered most of his body in blue and yellow. His only clothing was a skirt-like band of cloth wrapped around his waist. His body reminded me of a more upright raptor, with talon-like hands and feet, and a tail with a fanlike burst of feathers at the end.

He craned his head down toward me- the room wasn’t quite large enough for him to stand fully upright, regardless. The feathery protrusions on either side of his head, almost resembling ears, twitched. His eyes were startling- mostly yellow, but with strange magenta striations in the iris. Even in the low lighting of the room, I could see the tapetum lucidum reflecting.

“Hi,” I said, after the silence had stretched on for just a bit too long to be comfortable. “Uh. I brought- I- you wanted to see me?”

Most people assume that since I’m a writer, I have skill with words. Unfortunately, that skill only extends to being able to write things down. Being able to speak without embarrassing myself is something I’ve never been able to learn.

“I did! I’ve been waiting ever since they said you had scheduled a meeting.” He spoke strangely, despite the human-like mouth. His lips and jaw barely moved. Instead, his throat bobbed rapidly, sending words issuing forth. Given what I could see of his long, slender tongue and his needle-like teeth, he was mimicking speech like a parrot, using his vocal cords for all of the sounds rather than his mouth and tongue. It sounded a little odd as well, more robotic than a usual human voice, but less robotic than a computer-generated voice.

“Do you want to sit down?” Uru asked, gesturing toward the bed. I set the books in a stack on his desk and carefully cleared a spot on the bed to sit. Uru clambered up next to me, folding all his limbs underneath him like a sphinx. He looked at me, ears twitching rapidly. His talons kept twitching, digging into the bedsheets beneath him.

“I brought you some signed copies,” I said, offering him one of the books I’d brought. He flipped to the signature, eyeing it with interest. He didn’t seem to entirely get why a human would appreciate a book with a signature in it more than one without it, but he did seem to recognize that it was somehow important.

“Thank you.” He handled the book delicately, even more so than was probably necessary with his talons. After a moment, he set it back on the bed and focused his attention on me. His eyes reflected the glitter of the crystalline structures around us. There was a strange catch in my breathing.

“Okay,” he said, wriggling a bit closer to me. “So, chapter three of The Lily’s Curse, how come The Archer held onto the Testing Bow? It was cursed, just like the lily, and he could hear it whispering in his mind, all sorts of terrible things.”

It took me a moment to sort through the stories in my head and remember which one he was specifying. “Oh- It was supposed to convey his loneliness. Even a cursed bow was better than being completely on his own. I might not have been clear enough about that, but I was trying to be subtle-”

“No, no, I like that idea! I just wasn’t sure how much contact humans need. You all seem so… disconnected.”

“Not that disconnected,” I said. “Though I can see why it would seem that way to you.”

“You have a surprising amount of cohesion for a completely segregated species,” Uru said thoughtfully. “More so than I expected.” He placed a hand over the book. “So much of you goes into just trying to understand each other, make connections… It’s fascinating, really.” He frowned a little, apparently deep in thought, then shook his head and focused his gaze back on me. “In Starlit Realms, why was Merith willing to plunge the world into darkness for the sake of Ezra? Objectively, it would have made her own life that much more of a struggle, as well as harmed hundreds of people…”

I couldn’t help a small laugh. “Well, that one’s kind of complicated to explain. Remember was Merith said about his childhood? Where he wasn’t treated well by anyone?”

From there, the conversation dissolved into specific questions about my books. To say it was flattering would be a bit of an understatement- I’ll admit that I was quite pleased to have someone so interested in what I was writing, regardless of their species.

Some of the questions were more about technical aspects of writing, some more about character building, some more about societal standards and other aspects of the world itself. Every now and then, Uru would pause and cock his head, like he was listening to something far away.

“Others have questions as well,” he said. “I am attempting to get to all of them, though it would likely take several hours to do so.”

“How does that work?” I asked. Uru had mentioned in his letters that he was connected mentally to all the other members of his hive, but he had never clarified exactly how it worked. “Do they just know everything you think?”

“Hm…” Uru tilted his head to one side. “I have been asked that before, but I’m never entirely sure how to answer. I do not know what it is like for you to have only your own mind there.” He paused for a second. “I suppose I could compare it to… being in a crowded area with many conversations happening. There is always the murmur, and you can listen in one whichever ones you wish.” He tilted his head back. “There are many paying attention right now, while they work.”

An embarrassed flush started to creep over my face. “How many?”

“A large percentage of the hive. But most of them will hear our conversation at some point. They will remember the conversation and play it again for others who cannot pay attention right now.”

“That’s a big audience,” I said, a little faintly. It felt incredibly weird to have that many people hanging onto my words, more so because it was a group of aliens.

Uru laughed gently. “You look frightened. Don’t be. Everyone is thoroughly fascinated by you. We’re all listening attentively.” He twitched his feather-ears. “Many of them desire you to visit them in person.”

“I’ve never done a book tour to a different planet,” I said, huffing out a soft laugh. The thought made a knot form in the pit of my stomach.

“You have a standing invitation to our world whenever you would like,” Uru said. He turned and lifted one of the books from the pile. “This one is, I think, the most popular, though there are quite a few that many enjoy…”

The meeting went on for several hours before I was escorted back out. Uru followed me most of the way out, still peppering me with questions. He was surprisingly sweet, I decided, and easier to talk to than I’d imagined. It wasn’t until I got back into the car to return home that the idea that I had spent the past few hours meeting with a real alien.

I had more or less expected it to be a once-off, and I would have been completely fine with that. Getting to meet an alien and having him gush over my books once was enough to completely justify all my life choices, including the ones that had me living on ramen for six months.

What I had not expected was to receive an official summons less than a month later asking me to come back.

The meetings became a regular occurrence after that- once a month, usually, with letters and later direct messages back and forth in between. The meetings were initially in the ambassador’s suite, the protected area that the alien ambassadors spent most of their time in, but eventually, Uru managed to get permission to go out on short adventures with me.

It was after about a year and a half that Uru finally broached a subject we’d been dancing around for a while.

“I’m going to be moving closer soon,” I told him. The ambassador’s suite was outside the city, distant enough to be next to the spaceport and generally away from a major population center, just to cut down on incidents. It had taken a while, but I had managed to gather enough money to pay for a townhouse right at the city limits. It seemed more or less worth it, considering how often I’d been meeting with Uru, and it was nicer than my apartment regardless.

Uru turned away from the plant he’d been examining. There was a nature trail in a natural park that we’d started going to. Uru was fascinated by the plant and animal life of Earth, and the seasonal changes utterly entranced him. Not only were deciduous trees pretty rare on his own world, the seasonal changes were minute. Gradually seeing the leaves shift colors was a new and beautiful experience for him.

“Really?” His ears twitched a few times. His facial expressions were often pretty blank; in fact, it was hard to read any of his body language. After knowing him for a while, though, I had become more or less able to read most of his behavior. The twitching ears signaled interest, immense attention being paid to my next words.

“I’ve got enough money to move out of my old apartment, and the townhouse is bigger.” I considered for a moment, dancing around the next thing I wanted to say. After a moment, I just barreled forward. “And we’ve been seeing each other more often. I thought it would be nice to be closer.”

Uru craned his neck down toward me. A flustered prickling started across my face, my heart hammering. “You want to move closer to me?”

I gave a shrug. “It’s, uh, a combination of factors. But yeah, that’s kind of the gist of it.”

He stared at me for a moment. “Does that mean I will see you more often?”

I smothered a giggle behind my hand. “Uh, yeah, I guess it would mean that.”

He bent closer so he could nudge his head against my shoulder. “I would like that.” His feathers tickled against my neck as he nuzzled closer. “I have been thinking about you more recently.”

My heat skipped a couple beats and came back in at an accelerated tempo. “Why?”

He pulled his head back a little so he could look my in the face. “I am… not sure.” He sat down in his usual sphinx-like pose, folding his forelimbs over each other. “You’ve been occupying my thoughts more and more. I have been trying to understand it, but…” He flicked his tail back and forth, crushing a few plants under it. His gaze grew distant, like he was thinking hard about something.

I touched his shoulder. “Hey.”

Uru shifted, eye focusing. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right. Your thoughts are all connected to your hive’s right? I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to try and have a conversation with me while there are a bunch of other conversations going on in your head at the same time.”

“Less difficult than I suspect you think it is,” Uru said. “I think this conversation is more distracting to them than they are to me.”

I gave a surprised snort. “Really? Earth’s that fascinating?”

“It’s who I’m with, I think, that they’re really interested in,” Uru said. His voice was so casual that it took me a full thirty seconds to realize the flirtatiousness of his sentence. Had he always been that smooth? Was he even trying to be smooth? Was this just something he picked up on from my books and incorporated into his language?

Uru’s ears twitched. “You’ve gone quite still. Are you okay?”

“Mmhm,” I murmured. “I guess, uh. I don’t see what’s so fascinating.”

Uru looked at me. Often, even when he was looking at me, there was a sense that his attention wasn’t entirely all there. This time, the weight of his gaze fell upon me with full force. An involuntary shudder worked its way down my spine. He had a strangely piercing gaze, his eyes glittering between yellow and pink. “Humans are fascinating to us, in the abstract. You are coordinated, but utterly separate from each other. You can read each other with no sharing of minds. We didn’t understand how you could care for each other as you did without the mindshare. Even after meeting several humans, it was strange to us.” He shifted his weight, lowering his head down toward mine. “I have never cared for anyone I did not understand. I don’t understand you, in many ways. But I like that. I feel like I am discovering something new, and yet I have no doubt that I will enjoy what I find.”

He looked uncertain as he spoke, I thought. At least he was shifting around more than he usually did. His tail thumped against the grass and his taloned hands tore up clumps of moss from the ground. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I said.

Uru ducked his head a little, looking up at me from under his lashes. “I did not understand your books at first. They fascinated me, but I couldn’t quite understand them.” His head moved closer to me. We were close to touching noses. “I believe… I understand now.”

His nose brushed against mine and his lips pressed against mine.

It was an obviously uncertain kiss. In fact, it was barely a kiss at all. His lips merely touched to mine and he paused, like he wasn’t sure where to go next. After a couple seconds, he withdrew.

“It…” He made a weak sort of coughing noise. “It sounded more exciting when you wrote about it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I think you need a little more direction.” He stared at me and I took the opportunity to put my hands on his face and pull him toward me. “Like this.”

My lips pressed against his, my mouth moving a little. He mimicked me a little clumsily. Our teeth clacked together once, and I took a firmer hold on his face to prevent him from diving in too enthusiastically again. After a moment, we broke apart. Uru reared back, feathers all bristling.

He mouthed wordlessly for a moment. I could almost see him trying to piece the thoughts in his head back together again. Finally, his gaze straightened and he looked back down at you. His face was usually porcelain pale, but I could see the faint flush that had tinged his cheeks.

“Yes,” he said eventually. “That was better.”

Things seemed to happen very quickly after that. Any caution Uru had around me before faded like dew under the sun. I came over more frequently than ever, and he was nearly always curled up right next to me when I was, often with his head resting in my lap. When I moved closer, Uru spent nearly all his time at my place. In almost no time, strange glittering crystals were on my walls and assortments of alien tech that I didn’t understand were scattered across the house.

It was about that time that Uru started asking for me to come home with him.

I refused. Uru was patient, but frustrated. I kept up a fairly steady stream of excuses, mostly regarding my work and the length of space travel. But eventually, during a particularly rough stint of writer’s block, he made the appeal again.

“There’s nothing to be worried about. You’re between books right now, and I’ll need to go back soon anyway. And everyone wants to meet you so much.” He tilted his head at me. “What is making you so nervous about it? I understand the space travel, but we’ll be taking a private vessel that is designed for safety. But you should not be so nervous to meet my hivemates, no more than you would be to see me.”

“It’s not that simple. There will be so many people and…you said you’re all different.” Uru had been vague on exactly how interconnected the members of the hive were. He said they often shared thoughts and opinions, and he was quite insistent that they all loved me, but he also referenced different personalities and preferences. Going to a book signing was bad enough, and I only had to be generally polite to the people there, and there generally weren’t even that many. The idea of being the center of attention to an entire hive made my heart pound.

Uru let his head dip down so he was resting his cheek against my forehead. He nuzzled me a little. “We all do care about you. We’re sad that you don’t trust us.”

“It’s not about trust,” I said. “I’m used to just being around you. There’s only one person here with me, only one person seeing one side of me. If I’m around hundreds of people who are all paying attention to me, you’re going to see something you don’t like and then you won’t-” My voice crackled embarrassingly.

“That would never happen.” Uru didn’t say it in a comforting way. He said it like it was something utterly true, like the sky being blue. He said it like it was almost silly to even consider. “I feel as though I know so little about you, comparatively. But I have enjoyed everything I have learned about you so far. I find it hard to imagine that I would dislike something enough that I could fall out of love. That any of us could fall out of love.”

“What if I do something stupid?” I mumbled. It was such a silly thing to admit, but the idea burned in my chest like a hot coal.

Uru huffed laughter into my hair. “Oh, darling. I know exactly how many stupid things other members of my hive have done, and they all know how many stupid things I have done. They love me regardless. And we all love you. Trust us. We enjoy knowing each other, despite the embarrassments, and we love knowing you. Let us. Please.”

I leaned against him, letting his forelimbs curl around me. He nibbled gently on the curve of my ear until I relaxed against him.

“We can start planning,” I said. “It should be… soon, right?”

I could feel him smiling behind me. “Yes. Soon.”

Which is how I ended up in a space tunneler, nearly to Arakoss’tinel, and just barely restraining myself from a panic attack.

I cannot breathe in the cramped little ship. It is a private space tunneler, which is at least better than traveling on a commercial one. Smaller space tunnelers work better, so people on commercial ones are crammed together like sardines, confined to a couple of rooms for about a week before they got to a waystation and could disembark.

Being on a private one means that we are confined to a space a tiny bit larger than an RV. The entire ship is several times larger than an RV, of course, but nearly all of that is dedicated to the onboard autopilot, life systems, and engines. In the innermost section of the ship is the living area, which contains something like a kitchen, a couple of bedrooms, and something that could generously be called a common room, but is more like a hallway occupied mostly by a circular table.

Uru is worried about me. It’s obvious, because he’s always staring at me. I’m not exactly ignoring him, I swear. I just don’t have much to say. It feels like there are so many worries in my head that they’ve all logjammed and I can’t get them to come out of my mouth. I can’t even get the words to come to my mind. I’m just a big ball of worry.

Uru looks at me again, then slinks closer. He’s trying to look as casual as possible, but he’s never been good at subterfuge. I have no idea how he manages to be a good ambassador- he can’t possibly be good enough at lying for politics.

“You’re quiet,” he notes. There is a bit of false cheeriness there, like he’s trying to make everything lighter than it is.

“Not much to talk about,” I say. Uru’s mouth twitches down. He’s gotten a lot better at emoting since we’ve lived together. I think he does it automatically now instead of having to think about it.

Uru shifts closer. He’s big, bigger than a human, so his presence makes the ship more cramped. If it’s bad for me, I can’t imagine how bad it must be for him. But he’s been uncomplaining this whole time.

“You look like you have something to talk about, though,” he says. He lowers his head until it rests against my shoulder. “You’re still nervous.”

“I can’t help it. I know it’s frustrating for you, and I know there’s nothing to worry about, but I can’t help but worry. It’s irrational, but it’s what I feel!” The words spill out of me, like whatever Uru said unblocked the logjam. Uru continues to rest his head on my shoulder, shifting slightly so that he’s nuzzling into the skin of my neck.

“It’s not helping you, that I’m frustrated,” he says. It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not upsetting that you’re frustrated. I get it. I’m frustrated with myself, too. It’s dumb and I can’t help it and I wish I could.” I lean back against Uru as he starts making a sort of thrumming, clicking noise.

“No, you are upset. And my frustration is not helping.” He hesitates for a moment. “I wish you could feel the love we all have for you. But you cannot, and I shouldn’t be blaming you for that. I can only be here for you, and reassure you that you will be all right. And it will be. There are so many who adore you. We’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I need to trust you,” I say. “I do trust you. I just…”

“I believe you. Just remember that we will never do anything to harm you.” Uru nips lightly at my cheek, then shifts position so he is almost completely on top of me. His forelimbs pin me beneath him, and he nudges at me with his nose until he gets a better angle at my neck.

“I think you could use a little bit of a distraction,” he says between kisses. “What do you say?”

I lift my legs so they were around his middle. “I think we both could use a distraction.” I lift my hands and hold his face in place. “There’s not much space in here. We might make a mess.”

Uru laughs. “I certainly won’t mind.” His voice shifts into a lower, almost growling register. “Now, where shall we start?”

To my relief, that manages to be a satisfactory distraction for the rest of the trip. I suspect Uru is really just trying to take my mind off things, but I allow it. I don’t like me being nervous anymore than he does.

By the time we are within twelve hours of planetfall, Uru no longer works as a significant distraction.

“Would you cut it out?” I mutter as Uru tugs one of my hands away from my face.

“You told me to stop you from chewing on your nails,” Uru says. “You wanted to break the habit.”

“Well, maybe today could be an exception,” I mumble, though I put my hands down at my sides again. The nervous feeling in my stomach is starting to make me feel nauseated. Even Uru’s hand on my back is not enough to soothe me- it just makes me skin buzz and my breathing come in little, fast bursts.

“You’re very tense,” Uru says. His feather-ears twitch back, almost pinning against the back of his neck. “You should probably breathe more than that. I don’t think it’s safe.”

“I’m breathing as much as I possibly can,” I snap. My stomach gives a particularly painful twist, like it’s trying to knot itself all over again, and I gasp.

“Okay,” Uru says. “Sit down. Just- just sit, okay?”

He eases me to the ground, ignoring even the seats that are only a few steps away. His claws run gently through my hair, light enough that I can only feel them tickling at my scalp and neck. “Breathe. In an out, all right? In for seven… out for ten… There you go. In for seven… out for ten.”

It takes all my focus to concentrate on just breathing. I can already feel the panic spiraling, going out of control. This happens every time. There’s a trigger, but by the time it gets to this level, the trigger doesn’t matter anymore. The panic is self-sustaining.

“Keep breathing,” Uru says, his voice nearly a coo. “That’s it, you’re doing so good.”

The breathing helps. It helps a little. My heart rate calms, only marginally. Uru exaggerates his own breathing, moving in the slow rhythm he’d indicated. “Sorry,” I murmur as soon as I can get enough breath to manage words.

Uru gives a little laugh. “Don’t apologize! Goodness, I know you can’t help it.”

“But it… it’s a pain for you and it’s frustrating… I know…” My words are faint between gasps, but Uru nips teasingly at my ear.

“Stop. You’re okay. Just breathe.” He hushes any more attempts at protest, rocking me slightly against him.

My breathing slows and the worst of the panic fades. I’m shaky, but no longer curled in on myself in a fit of anxiety. Uru continues to pat my back. “Are you feeling better?”

“Better,” I say. “I’m sor-”

“Hush, with the apologizing.” He sighs. “No one’s angry with you. I’m worried. We’re all worried. You’re so anxious about meeting people who already know and love you. We’re sad about it.”

I hesitate for a moment. “I’m sorry I’m making you sad.”

Uru nips at my ear again with his sharp little teeth. “I did say to stop apologizing, didn’t I?” He carefully releases me and takes a step back. “I think you need to rest for a bit. We’ll be there soon, and all this anxiety will be over.”

“Or worse,” I suggest. Uru gives me an unimpressed look and shoos me back toward my bed.

“I will be there momentarily. Try to relax. I’ll bring you some of the tea you like, okay? It’ll be soothing.”

I give him a slight squeeze. “Thank you. You’re wonderful.”

“As are you,” Uru says. He nudges me toward my room. “Go. Lie down. I’ll be right there.”

Uru, to his neverending credit, makes a wonderful distraction, and not in the way you’re thinking. He chats about everything and nothing, giving me a running update of everything that is happening in his hive. There’s little drama (comes with knowing everyone else’s thoughts) but they tell collaborative stories and someone is always working on something interesting. I doze off listening to his explanation of some great art project that half the hive is constructing together.

I wake to the shuddering of the ship that tells me we’re about to enter the atmosphere. Uru tucks his tail in around me to prevent me for nearly jumping out of bed. “Stay seated for this part,” he says. “It tends to be bumpy during the descent.”

“I can tell.” Speaking is difficult- we’re rattling so much I feel like I’m going to bite my tongue off. Instead, I cling tighter to Uru, burying my face in his feathery chest. The anxiety is there, swimming around in the back of my head, but it’s at least been dulled.

Landings are my least favorite part of flights. I think it’s the aspect of falling. Even when I shouldn’t be able to, I swear I can feel that dropping sensation in my stomach like I’m on a roller coaster.

“It’s all right,” Uru says. He squeezes my hand. “It’ll be over in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, I know.” The entire ship shudders, not violently, but enough to shake me on my feet. Uru has to drop to all fours temporarily to steady himself.

There’s no way to tell how close the ship is to the ground from where we are, so the jolting stop comes as a total surprise. Uru lets me lean across his back to regain my balance. “I’m never going to get used to that,” I mutter.

“I’ve done it several times and I’m still not used to it,” Uru says, but he’s not looking at me. His gaze is toward the door. I feel the excitement in every line of his body. His ears keep twitching and swiveling, like he’s listening to something that I can’t hear.

There’s a low grinding noise and the bulkhead of the ship opens. Uru makes it a full five steps down the walkway before he realized that I’m not following him. “It’s all right,” he says, reaching back for me. “I’ll be right here with you.”

I take a deep breath. “Yeah. I know. I’m coming.”

I expect to step out into sunlight, but the ship opens into a massive enclosed space. Sunlight filters through the translucent dome- it looks like some kind of organic stained glass, with colors mixing and blending into each other. Rainbows gleam across the dark gray floor and reflect over the crowd that is milling in the spaceport.

There are so many people. Many of them seem to be doing something, either transporting materials or cleaning or doing some kind of maintenance. But a large chunk of them are just looking toward me, their long necks all craned like they’re trying to get a better look. In an instant, my mind goes blank. I just freeze.

Uru steps forward and says something. I can’t understand it- it’s in the clicking, chirruping language of his homeworld. He’s able to speak pretty much all human languages with ease, but his vocal cords are much more complex than ours. Even after Uru spent weeks trying to teach me, I can’t pronounce more than a couple words, and I can only understand it when it’s spoken slow and deliberate. It’s not a terribly complex language, but so much of it is based on context that I don’t have access to that it’s nearly impossible to get a hold on.

The crowd thins a little, several members peeling off and loping away. Of the remaining members, three people step forward. One of them is similar in size and coloring to Uru, one is slightly smaller and a dustier color, and one is significantly larger and purple and green in coloration.

“Esthell,” Uru says. “It’s good to see you.”

They almost completely ignore him, at least from what I can tell. I have no idea how they’re communicating inside their minds. From what Uru tells me, speech is relatively uncommon here- it took him a while to get used to speaking out loud to people, although he seems to have gotten pretty firmly into the habit.

Esthell turns their head toward me. After a moment, they smile, though it looks a bit uncertain. “I am pleased to see you,” they say. “I have known you through Uru’s eyes, but you are quite a bit more radiant when I am seeing you with my own eyes.” They gave a sidelong glance at Uru, who gave the tiniest of encouraging nods.

“Thank you,” I said, a little uncertain. Esthell paces around me, not quite touching, but getting close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from their body. Beyond them, I can see others milling around, looking while trying not to look like they’re looking.

Eventually, Esthell sat back on their haunches in front of me. “Come. We have prepared a space for you.”

I follow them and Uru down out of the massive spaceport and toward a gently sloping tunnel. It’s a little cramped, though there seem to be less people around. After a few winding halls, we come across doorway. It is, to my surprise, closed. Closed doors are rare in the hive, as a general rule. If you’re occupying everyone’s minds all the time, what’s the point of installing physical barriers? The idea that they had installed it just for me was touching.

Esthell opened the door and stepped back to allow me to enter. My mouth drops open. It is not precisely a carbon copy of my room back at home, but it is shockingly close. My bed, desk, and even several of the small figurines on my bookshelf are nearly identical. It takes me a moment of just marveling to notice that Uru and Esthell are watching me hopefully.

“It’s… how did you…?” you stammered.

“Uru gave us some very clear images. We thought you might appreciate the closeness to home.” Esthell rustled their feathers. “We are aware that this is discomfiting for you.”

“You didn’t actually need to do this,” I say, though I can’t stop myself from touching the bed with a feeling of reverence. “It must have been so much work.”

“For the object of our desire?” Esthell smiles, and this time it looks genuine and soft. “There is nothing we would not do.”

I do not know entirely what I expected when I arrived on this planet, but it’s not the level of adoration I am subjected to. I sleep for several hours, trying to diminish the effects of spaceflight. When I wake, Uru is still there, curled around me. Moments after he sees that I’m awake, the door opens and I am delivered a massive tray of food. I expect not to recognize it, but the longer I look, the more foods seem familiar to me. There is something that resembles eggs, slabs of meat that seem fried like bacon, and even something that looks like a slightly paler pancake.

“Is it good?” he asks, almost as soon as the fork touches my lips. That they’ve even given me a fork is surprising- given what I’ve seen of Uru eating, his species usually just spears things with their talon-like fingers or picks them up. But I’ve been presented with a full set of silverware. I nod and Uru looks satisfied.

“Esthell would like to visit,” Uru says as I finish up my breakfast. “They want to give you a tour- I’m going to be preparing for our return trip and managing some messages to other Hives. I want to discuss how my ambassadorship is going with them.”

I feel my lips twitch downward as a strange, curdling sensation enters my stomach. Uru takes my chin in his hand. “Don’t be nervous. Esthell adores you, as we all do.”

“I know.” Just as I finish speaking, the door opens and the bulkier shape of Esthell works their way in.

They’re wearing something vaguely saddle-like on their back in colors that mesh well with their feathers. Uru and Esthell tap foreheads, then Uru turns back to me. “I will return later,” he says. “I love you.”

He slips out of the room and vanishes within seconds, down the twisting halls. Esthell turns to look at me. Despite the similarity of their features to Uru’s a flutter of nerves crawls through my stomach.

“It’s all right,” they say. Their voice is surprisingly soothing. The twisting anxiety in me relaxes just a bit. “Dear one, you’re shivering. Cold or…?”

“Nervous,” I admit. “I know I shouldn’t be, but…”

Esthell smiles. It’s quite close to Uru’s smile, and the way they lean toward me to bump their face gently against mine is almost exactly like him. “Breathe. In… and out.”

The exact same pattern Uru learned for me, when I first told him about my anxiety. I follow it automatically Esthell’s smile gets bigger. “Good. Well done, dear one.”

My heart flutters. “Uru said you wanted to give me a tour?”

Esthell leans down, offering me their back. “The hive would be too difficult for you to traverse by walking. I can carry you.” Their tail helps nudge me up into the saddle. I barely have a chance to wobble; Esthell automatically corrects for the fact that my left side is weaker than my right.

“Are you ready?” they ask, craning their head back toward me. I take a deep breath, but the anxiety already seems to have faded into the background.

“I’m ready.”

Part two can be found here.

#exophilia writing #exophilia #monster lover #alien lover #alien boyfriend #monster boyfriend #hive mind #polyamory #kinda?#monster x human #monster romance

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selfhelpforstudents · 3 years

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Helping someone suffering from depression

This is for everyone who is seeking help on how to help someone suffering from depression. If you are dealing with this illness, please show this to your friends and family. Showing love and support can make a difference. Here are some tips:

1. Thank you for educating yourself

I know that having a loved one suffering from mental illnesses is very hard. You are not to blame. And you are doing the right thing by trying to educate yourself on how to help them. I am so proud that you are there for your friend, child, girlfriend, boyfriend, mother, father etc. Things will become better eventually and you can greatly impact your loved one's mental health.

2. Understanding depression

Depression is a real illness and its seriousness should not be underestimated. Do not blame your loved one for being drained from motivation and energy even if you do not unterstand the reasons. Do you blame someone suffering from cancer for being exhausted, for example? No.

Do not take it personally when your loved one says hurtful things. This is a common sign of depression. It is the illness talking and not your loved one. Please show compassion. I understand that this might be hard sometimes, but it is crucial to show your support. Otherwise your loved one's guilt might consume them which will feed the depression.

Saying things such as "But your life is totally fine.", "Just snap out of this!", "Why can't you be happy? I'm doing so much to help you!', "Oh, stop being lazy!" etc will NOT cure a serious illness. It will do the opposite.

You can help a depressed person, yes, but however hard you may try, healing someone else's depression is not possible. Still, offering your support is crucial to help your loved one to recover!!!

Know that this illness can lead to your loved one losing his, her, their life. Do not panic. Just know that this is serious and that they need all the support they can get.

3. recognizing symptoms of depression

Here are some examples:

Eating way less or even nothing or eating too much

Sleeping way less or sleeping too much

Abusing alc*hol or dr*gs

Having a negative outlook on life

Having little to no interest in anything anymore/ no motivation

Not wanting to leave the house/ the room etc.

Not being emotionally available

Saying things such as "I can't do this anymore!", "I am so exhausted!" etc.

4. Talking to someone about depression

Please show compassion and make them understand how much you love them. Do not blame your loved one for being difficult etc.

Please do not make this about yourself. Yes, l know you are suffering as well because seeing someone you love in that state is awful, but telling this to your loved one might only make his, her, their depression worse.

Giving advice might sometimes not be the best way to approach things at first. It might put too much pressure on your loved one. Showing love and understanding the illness will do way more to help the healing process.

Be persistent without pressuring them. People suffering from depression tend to withdraw themselves from other people. Show them that they can talk to you - without regretting it in the end.

5. How to start a conversation

Do something nice for them. For example, make their favorite food, bring them a snack, etc.

Sit with them for a while and start the conversation. Here is an example:

You know I love you, right? I've been noticing that you haven't been well lately and I'd really like to talk about that. I want you to be happy because you mean so much to me.

6. Examples of things you can say to your loved one:

I love you and I understand that this is not your fault. I will always be here for you!

You do not have to go through this alone. We are together in this.

If there is anything I can do to help you, I will do it immediately.

You can always come to me. Tell me anything.

No matter what, I will help you heal. I will not get mad when you withdraw from me or get angry at me. No matter what you do or what will happen, I will never abandon you.

Is there anything that happened to you and left you feel this way? (Trauma has to be talked about!)

Would you like to see a doctor? Would you like me to come?

7. Understanding the risk of suic*de and self harm

Always encourage your loved one to get professional help as the risks are too high. Here are some signs the person might be suic*dal:

- Talking about self-hatred, hopelessness, not seeing a point in existing anymore - Saying that their trauma is too big to ever heal and that things will never get better - Looking for things that can harm them and e. g. hiding them somewhere (for example a piece of glass) - Suddenly becoming very calm!

As treatment might sound pointless to your loved one (a common sign of depression), be persistent! Do not give up on them. Make appointments, tell them you will take care of everything.

8. Take care of yourself

Please do not neglect your own health! Thank you so much for helping your loved one. You are doing the right thing and there is so much hope! I am so grateful for anyone who is currently doing their best to help their person's healing process. You are saving a life! Thank you so much.

As always, if you are struggling right now and would like to talk to someone, please join our #selfhelpforstudents server on Discord.

Source

PLEASE SHARE THIS ❤️

Love, Sophia

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ruby-whistler · 3 years

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You've probably talked about this kinda thing before (I'm willing to hunt down the post if so), but I'm pretty new to your blog and I'm curious; what makes you like c!Dream so much? Other than, like, his potential - or the skill that went into writing him - I mean specifically as a character, what causes you to sympathize with him as opposed to others like Wilbur or Quackity?

If it's personal you obviously don't have to answer! I've just read tons of posts like that from c!Tommy apologists and I realized I'd never read one from the other side of things (so to speak) and I think you present your ideas and stuff rly well :p

Alright, I’ve made a couple of replies like this, but this one is going in the masterpost to later link it to people - thank you for your interest, and I hope you don’t mind this one being a bit detailed.

Initially, on more of an emotional level, the answer to that question would be Dr3. It was how I got into Dream apologism, it justified my compassion for the character, and made me feel more comfortable where the rest of the fandom was overwhelmingly negative.

The c!Dream that people portray seems unsympathetic, and pretty fitting on the surface - a relentless manipulative villain with an insatiate thirst for power who threw away his friends in order to gain control over others for the sake of being on top.

Until you actually look into canon, and do some analysis, and realize that's,,, rather far from the truth.

See, the thing about c!Dream is, that he's a person much like anyone else in the story. He's not a "villain" or some morally black character only because of his actions. It's all about context, which doesn't excuse actions, but it might explain them and make an impact on the way we view the character himself.

In this fandom, people usually look at him, and then throw both accurate characterization and any of that context out the window.

Because power, and hurting people, and chaos isn't his goal or his motive. It's a means to an end. Everything is a means to the end to this character, including himself, which I find fascinating.

Is it wrong to do? Yes. Will it get him closer to his goals? Yes? Then he's going to do it, no matter who gets hurt in the process. No matter if he gets hurt in the process.

And this ruthlessness is not inspired by cruelty, this efficiency isn't out of enjoyment. It's out of genuine attachment and perhaps even desperation, but that's difficult to get into.

He's had such a downward spiral into doing continuously worse things - and for what? For control? For power? No, he never cared about that in the first place, why would he start now?

Do you know what he did care about?

His friends. The server. The people he feels responsible for.

c!Dream's goals have never been selfish at all, no matter how much people try to paint it that way. His ends were always for others - considering how likely the theory that he got himself locked up on purpose is, that enforces the sentiment even more.

If he didn't care about the server, why would he fight against L'Manberg and then list his reasons for it always as reasons "we" had? He pretty much never used "I" when talking about it, I know because I counted it.

If he didn't care about the people, why would he stand against Schlatt - despite understandably still despising L'Manberg - and actively support them in getting their country back when he could've just left them alone? Schlatt wasn't hurting him. Wilbur taking a tiny piece of land wasn't threatening him.

Manberg was threatening the server's peace, which is why he fought against it. L'Manberg threatened (and ruined) the server's relative peace and unity, which is why he fought against it.

It was never him fighting to control the server, it was him fighting for the server and the people in it, even if he ended up hurting them in the process, and that's pretty clear from analysing his motives before the second season.

And yeah, his thinking is flawed, I noticed - but cc!Dream has confirmed his goal in the end is for everyone to get along and, well, stop hurting each other, as well as him having an "ends justify the means" mentality.

And I guess that silent realization of - hell, he cares - was what drew me to have such a strong attachment towards the character.

So thinking about him forcing himself to do all this terrible stuff - about him being stuck powerless inside a cell, hurt over and over again - about just how desperate he must've been, alternatively, how ready to sacrifice himself he must've been back at the Finale.

If you recontextualize the story from c!Dream's perspective, it all falls into this picture of someone who wanted to protect people more than anything, and who cared more than anyone, and ended up losing everything, not entirely by his own fault, but because of the cycle of violence he was actively trying to stop.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Dream is incredibly selfless both in his overarching goals, and in his smaller more immediate ones. He will, more often than not, put himself in a disadvantageous situation if it means his friends or allies aren’t caught in the crossfire or harmed.

His relationship with his friends - Punz, George and Sapnap specifically - is incredibly tragic. He wanted to protect Punz, he showed genuine concern about him, he was willing to have one less person on his side just so that people wouldn't target him.

He wanted to protect George, but he hurt him in the process, because he was too caught up in being in the right, and Sapnap was distraught thanks to Tommy telling him that Dream doesn't care about him, and Quackity who despised Dream was there to fan the flames, so they fell apart rather easily.

He wanted to protect the cat, and he failed.

He wanted to protect Techno, stand up to Quackity, and he failed.

If you think about it, he failed to protect everyone miserably.

Alright before I break down sobbing incoherently - as you can probably see, my sympathy towards c!Dream doesn't come from him being a good person to any degree, more from just incredible amounts of sadness.

You see, c!Dream is a very reserved character, and he puts up the "cruel scary villain" front on purpose, and he doesn't talk about his emotions on purpose. However what we see of him is pretty much enough to classify him as a rather tragic character.

Most of his actions, with enough context, shift the way I think about the character in a more positive direction only because if I like the way a character is written, it's going to bleed into my feelings for the character himself. Ruthless villains are my jam. A character being fun to analyse and too complex to complicate further is pretty much the only thing I need to become attached.

Did I mention the prison arc yet? I cannot see a character suffering and not be sympathetic, I don't think that's a thing with me. Healing arc potential, isn't it?

A lot of people also relate to the character on a deeply personal level! Trauma responses such as cutting people off and emotionally isolating yourself, trying to regain control of your environment or to get back the past, some people even relate to,, what's being done to him during the prison arc. There's definitely some amount of projection going on, but I'd say I only do it to a degree where when I'm depressed I'll start relentlessly posting about a healing arc.

It's just hard to see a villain with good intentions hurt and alone, even if he's done terrible things, and not feel some amount of empathy. Most people don't care to see him that way, but my blog's mostly a place for those who do.

Anyways, here are some essays to check out perhaps if you've read this far that elaborate on some of the points further-

[ x ] [ x ] [ x ] [ x ] [ x ] [ x ]

- and here's an explanation like this from a fellow Dream apologist. Might be useful to get multiple perspectives on the subject. Feel free to also send asks if you have any questions! That's what I'm here for.

#dream smp #c!dream #dreblr #my asks #angeloncewas #long post #thanks for the question! :]

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spideyanakin · 3 years

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Why the sex scene in The Eternals bothered me so much

First I'd like to say I loved that film, and by this message I don't mean to hate on it in any way.

If you've watched The Eternals then you might have spotted the barely 10s sex scene that was added, and It bothers me on so many levels.

First, it bothered me so much that I wanted to understand the director's point of view. I quote from the director Chloe Zhao; 'For us to show two people that love each other, not just emotionally and intellectually but also physically, and to have a sex scene that will be seen by a lot of people that shows their love and compassion and gentleness - I think it's a beautiful thing.'

And I don't disagree with her statement. But a sex scene isn't the identity of Marvel, it's not why people watch these films and it's not what we (I hope I speak for most people) search in this franchise.

I understand that sex is a beautiful thing, and that it should be praised rather than frowned upon, but it still does make some people uncomfortable and doesn't make sense in a marvel film. It feels out of place.

What was so beautiful about Marvel is that they managed to keep that innocence. Making their films viewable by children and people who don't feel comfortable with nudity. I know for a fact that that's what most people love about Marvel.

You can argue that 'if you want to keep these films for children then you shouldn't include violence' - but that's a little bit why people watch these films. Because they want to see the super hero fight the bad guy. They want to see cool women and dudes fighting off some badass villains.

What was also cool about Marvel were the sex jokes. They are funny because you know they're never going to act upon them. Because kids don't get these jokes when they watch the films. Just like if you watch some kid films and cartons as adults, you spot those jokes while kids will be oblivious to them.

The thing is love has always be shown through sex in so many things of today's media and it's so needed to show people loving each other emotionally and intellectually more than anything. And not through physical affection that is almost everywhere to the point of being annoying. It doesn't set a good example if Marvel does 'everything like everyone else'. Marvel not doing sex scenes was an unintentional way of saying 'it's ok not to want to have sex with someone'.

In today's world showing other types of love then physical is so needed. And even though the director said 'For us to show two people that love each other, not just emotionally and intellectually but also physically' while the loving each other emotionally and intellectually are not as explored as it could have been through the film.

I think Marvel films are amazing in the way that you show characters loving each other by saving the other from a vilain. Or showing the vilain’s revenge for the lost love of his life. Showing their love in this way.

If you take Tony Stark and Pepper's relationship for example. The fact that they love each other, other than through their physical activities is clearly shown, which makes the beauty of their relationship. You don't need sex scenes to show love and I can't stress how it's so important in today's world with all the sex scenes going on in today's media.

For people to have a safe franchise, where they know they will have nothing more than a few sex jokes is fantastic.

So please marvel.

Please

Don't do that again.

#The eternals #marvel #marvel film #eternals #sirse #ikaris #iron man #pepper potts #disney #marvel's eternals #eternals spoilers

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berena-cpr · 3 years

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Unfinished Masterpieces - Fic Rec List

Remember the WIP on ao3 you can’t let go? The one that resonated with you? The one that you’d give anything to know how it ends?

While the Berena Creative Project Resuscitation event is all about starting to work again on projects sitting in our draft folders, life can get in the way of finishing a project for a hundred reasons.

These works, posted, but still a few chapters short of ending, are loved though and with this list we’d like to share the love for the unfinished masterpieces one can find in the Berena tag on ao3.

Given the high response we had when we asked to tell us about your favourite WIPs, you’ll find the list under the cut:

Anything Else to Declare? - LittleMissO

“I've personally had sleeping issues since I read LittleMissO's Anything Else to Declare because yeah, I'm still there, breath held and heart pounding like crazy after the most delicious slow burn, and pining, and that outrageously flirtatious conversation over a whiskey.”

that line between your heart and mine - ktlsyrtis

“it is just plain hot but also I love the idea of them writing letters to each other and I also love the exploration of what their relationship might be like with Bernie still being in the RAMC.”

you disappear like your cigarette smoke (now the taste of your kiss is all that remains) - bonnissance

“A wonderful, emotional angst filled fic, looking at how Bernie’s life might still have progressed after Serena left. I loved how it showed her testing her own boundaries to see if it was possible to find another relationship with someone else and when she found that wasn’t something she could do, she accepted it and found other ways to be happy without Serena. I reread it fairly often because although unfinished it doesn’t ever seem incomplete. But the last word “Serena” always leaves me full of a hope that I would dearly love to have fulfilled.”

Secrets in the Dark - Wonko

“I’d love to see this continued!”

For a Good Time Call - Regency

“Young Serena using that pure sex voice of hers to make a little extra as a phone sex operative, and young nervous Bernie taking the first tentative steps in exploring her sexuality. Who better than Serena to help her figure things out? The premise of the fic is ingenious, the writing amazing, the dialogue just outstanding. Hot, sexy, soft and full of compassion and feels. I would sell a kidney to read the next chapter to this – Bernie and Serena meeting years later and recognising each other’s voices.”

you're the only one I never looked for - gutsandglitter

“Never expected I'd enjoy a Baby Boom AU, but I love this fic. Serena hanging out in the country feeling extremely overwhelmed and constantly running into this weird tall, awkward woman named Bernie is a mood. I will forever hold out hope for an update so that I can someday read about them having lots of sex (after an appropriate amount of angst, miscommunication, and unexpected grocery store encounters, of course).”

Things Kayryn doesn't write - Kayryn

“So they’re not exactly unfinished, because they are complete, beautifully crafted, amazingly inventive, head canons, but they’re not completed fic’s so I’m counting them. I actually think that’s one of the lovely things about them, there’s a full story in there but enough space in them to bring your own imagination to the details. The fact that every head canon is spot on and you can completely image it happening is the icing on the cake, and the perfect characterisation is the cherry on top. Canon could have taken lessons from from Kayryn”

I Want to be Your Fantasy (Maybe You Could Be Mine) - Regency

“I just love the concept and the first chapter just pulled me in and I so very much want to know what happens next.”

Notting Hill - Bat_and_Breakfast

“All the “Rom Com idiots in love but they don’t know it miscommunication capers” re-envisaged for Berena you say? Sign me up! I love the way the plot of Notting Hill is absolutely recognisable, but never at the expense of Bernie and Serena’s characters. Everything they do, their responses, the dialogue, is so them. And the cleverly cast Holby regulars as supporting stars - genius. It’s an absolute triumph of transformative work. It’s wonderfully and engagingly written. If you’ve ever got sucked into watching “just a bit” of rom com and found you’ve just lost a couple of hours of your life - this fic does the same thing.”

Follow Me There - troiing

“Full disclosure: I’ve never watched Sanctuary and I know nothing about the characters. But this crossover fic is so good, that it doesn’t even matter.”

hold me closer (tiny dancer) - serenacampbell

“I don’t know why I’m so attached to that fic, but I am. I love the premise of a slow burn fic where the characters still get to do sexy things during the awkward slow burn oblivious period. It’s like the best of both worlds.”

Machu Pechinku - Jrnsaxa

“Forget France and Nepal, what if Serena spent her sabbatical in Peru? The setting in this is beautifully vivid, as is the the delicate ways in which Serena and Bernie start to reconnect after Elinor.”

Hello, Major - lesbianquill

“This is a near perfect Serena being fixated on Bernie in fatigues fic. The first chapter is very insightful, helping us to understand why Bernie might not be happy to accede to Serena’s small kink/obsession. That of course doesn’t last for too long because Bernie loves Serena and she loves having sex with Serena. It was offered as a smutty one shot, but then they rewarded us with an even smuttier second chapter and teased us with the news that a third chapter would be forthcoming. It never happened. Main reason for wishing it could be continued? I enjoy well-written smut.”

In the Spirit of Three Stars - alwayssomethingelse

“Bernie and Serena as Federation officers on Deep Space Nine. Oh, the potential!”

Anatomically Correct - phantomunmasked

“Bernie severely overcompensating for any possible awkwardness in their first time by ordering a mountain of sex toys is a premise that will always delight me. Every time I go back to this one, I ponder what their weekend away would bring with a big grin.”

The Clinic - RexWolfe

“Maybe it’s all the Bramwell we’ve been watching, but this one’s been on my mind lately. Can’t go wrong with a Victorian AU.”

a life in pictures - Regency

"I soooo want to see Serena maybe modelling for Bernie (or at least just how the date goes)”

working up a storm inside my head - sevtacular

“While this isn’t actually an unfinished fic in the sense of chapters missing, the prompt fic collection of Sev can always be added to as far as I’m concerned. Love what has been written so far, hope there will be new chapters with time.”

Body and Soul - ChalkHillBlue

“Possibly the weirdest AU idea ever, this body swap AU makes my brain go crazy with the possibilities every time I read it.”

When We Need One Another The Most - Whispersmummy

“I know this isn’t strictly Berena but it wouldn’t have been written if not for the Berena fandom who love most every conceivable way these two dorks might get together. Very well written (imo) and cleverly constructed fic. Lots and lots of angst and who doesn’t love angst? Only thing missing is a small amount of smut. (Yes I’m back there).”

Ring In The New - fiveroundsrapid

“Fics where Bernie comes to Holby before/during Adrienne’s illness are my kryptonite, and this one is so good!”

Holby One: A Star Wars AAU Story - elitryalittle

“Holby One is my favorite unfinished fic. It’s not just because I came to Berena via Star Wars (a bit of an unusual way, but here I am), but also because I can totally see Serena as a healer and Bernie as a Jedi knight. Kudos for their excellent knowledge of the SWU and this great idea of a crossover fic. I’d give them a limited edition “Looking for Leia” patch and a sticker if they’d finish it.”

to gaze at you, from afar (I sigh, I sigh, I sigh) - bonnissance

“The photographer/model AU you never knew you needed in your life, but you really, really do.”

Heroic Endeavor - Nicolaruth27

“I never would’ve thought I’d be down for a Greek god AU, but this fic has permanent residence in a corner of my brain. Bernie as Athena in mortal form is inspired, and the way the fic is interwoven with canon is a delight.”

what a lovely way to burn - ktlsyrtis

“I just love anything that's weaved into canon but with them being happy and dating and communicating."

Love, Unexpected - Igerna

“Bernie is still married to Marcus when she meets Serena during a conference. They immediately bond and keep in contact, sharing both professional advice and thoughts on their private lives. Love, for them, happens rather unexpectedly. I do love conference fics and slow burns - and this is a good one.”

a little less war torn - kitnkabootle

“The setup for this - in which Serena is the one who goes to help when Bernie is brought to Holby, instead of Raf - is one of my favorite ‘what ifs’ to ponder, and the writing is outstanding.”

#berena #bernie wolfe #serena campbell #holby city #berena cpr #fic rec

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the-paris-of-people · 3 years

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Hi. This is really not a question but more of a rant. A really really long one. I apologize in advance. I honestly care waaaaayyyy too much about this show than I should. Clearly too bored🙈.

After reading people's comments on this show and the ships, there are so many things that irk me and I thought I'd share even if I might get crap for it. So here goes:

1. "Ben only wants Devi when she is with Paxton." I.e. it's about Paxton. Lol people are funny. As though Ben thinks he can compete with Paxton on a social level. He's not stupid, he knows full well he can't. It's about Devi and in part her obsession with Paxton. People don't like thinking about things from Ben's perspective because they just don't like him. He's the one that finds out Devi is cheating, she runs after Paxton at the party ( now granted before she runs out, she's intensely staring at Ben and then realises Paxton is leaving but Ben's not gonna remember that) and she was busy chumming it up with Paxton in episode 3 in front of Ben with absolute disregard for him. So his natural defence is to guard himself and have his walls go up. It is a valid response. He burries his pain (exactly what Samberg said). And does not let his guard down around her romantically until episode 10 when Paxton literally rejects her at school. At the school dance, sparks are flying between those 2. Is Paxton around at the time...Uhm no (I'll get into the whole Aneesa thing). In his mind Paxton is out of the picture and it's like he can almost trust her again. And then when Paxton shows up with Devi, he basically feels like a fool for ever thinking that he was ever something more than 2nd best or sometimes anything at all ( especially considering Devi still wants Paxton after Devi and Paxton's last public interaction that Ben witnessed- I mean he does not get to see the shit behind closed doors). But then when Eleanor spills the tea, that look on his face is disbelief, yes a little bit of jealousy but overwhelmingly heartbreak. He is essentially watching the chance he never knew he had go away. Now you could argue that he should have known that she wanted him back but she broke his trust and does not explicitly say, " I want you back". Ben's not trying to get burnt again based on some assumption/hunch. He has been wrong before.

2. "How dare Ben be upset that Devi is with Paxton when he is with Aneesa". Fair point. Just like how dare Devi be upset and lose her shit over Ben and Aneesa. But yet it still happend. Devi gets 5 episodes allowing her to be upset and Ben can't even have one moment when a firkken bomb gets dropped on him.

Aneesa and Ben should have never date. Everyone knows that. He was never over Devi. He just pushed those feelings down to make him believe he was over her. I obviously don't agree with this. Aneesa doesn't deserve that. Ben needs to go to therapy. He needs an outlet. He is similar to Devi in that he doesn't want to process what happened and would rather move on and react. However, his reactions are far less impulsive/severe as Devi's. Him dating Aneesa is unfortunately a reaction. He didn't give himself time to really process how he feels. People say he dated Aneesa solely to spite Devi which is not true. Is there an element of " you never wanted me but someone else does"... absolutely but Aneesa is also very kind to Ben, they get along really well and she puts him first. Technically what's not to like. I mean if it was just to spite Devi, could he have not tried to hustle his way back in with Shira?? Problem is that dumb dumb didn't work through his Devi feelings and let's just be honest, the same spark and chemistry he has with Devi, is missing with Aneesa. It often feels forced, especially in regards to the pace of the relationship. I so wished Aneesa remained friends with Ben. That's what he needed...not another relationship.

3. "Aneesa is so amazing, she doesn't deserve to get hurt." I agree. She absolutely doesn't deserve to get hurt just like Ben and Paxton didn't deserve that crap Devi pulled. I think Aneesa is a great addition and I like that Devi has someone within her community to connect to. I'm South Asian myself and I genuinely value this aspect of my own life. I mean she is pretty great, kind and the anorexia rumour Devi unintentionally started was pretty heartbreaking. That scene where she talks to Devi at the relay about it, is so sad (especially coz we as viewers know Devi messed up). Now that being said is Aneesa also low key shady? YES. And it's not because she dated her friend's ex. It's because she started dating him knowing that Devi started the rumour about her because she was jealous about Ben and her. How does she think Devi would go from being so jealous that she starts a rumour, to the next week becoming their biggest "Stan". Come on girl. But there was no way Devi could say no after the crap she pulled with Aneesa. Ben did ask her out so if there is blame, he absolutely gets it too but he didn't know why Devi started that rumour (based on his surprised AF face when Eleanor spills the tea). Which leads me to my next question. Why didn't Aneesa tell him? Aneesa said Ben was supporting her through the rumour. She probably told him Devi started the rumour but didn't tell him why? That is odd? Clearly if Ben had known, he may changed his perspective on Devi actually wanting him instead of ignoring his feelings.

Lastly Aneesa knows there are unresolved feelings between Devi and Ben. This is evident from that dance scene. She literally runs to cut in their pretty intense conversation. Like why you running girl? I didn't think much of it at first but coupled with another moment, it makes a lot of sense. When Ben agrees to dance with Aneesa, he looks back at Devi and lingers and Aneesa picks up on this and pulls him away. It's a blink and you will miss it moment but it is there.

Now all of this doesn't mean she needs to get hurt but they probably need to break up. Ben needs to be single for a while and work through how he feels about Devi, Aneesa and most importantly himself. Whilst I don't particularly enjoy their relationship, you never get to see it from either of their perspectives. Maybe that could change things but honestly I just prefer Ben and Devi.

Also can everyone stop acting like Ben is dating Devi's best friend. Being brown doesn't make you automatically best friends and Ben and Devi met Aneesa the same week. People are acting like he is dating Eleanor.

4. "Devi chose Paxton". Please! The only thought through decision that girl made in regards to these 2 boys is when she chose herself and decided not to be Paxton's little secret. I mean in episode 1 and 2 she can't decide so she dates both. In episode 3, she interacts with Paxton because of the whole tutoring thing. He says they don't makes sense. While she seems a bit sad she doesn't seem too upset like she is season 1 and she isn't looking for any opportunity to spend time with him (unlike season 1). Episode 4,5,6,7 and 8 she is losing her mind over Ben. Half way through 8 she knows she has no choice but to let him go. But even after that she doesn't pursue Paxton. He does that at the end of episode 9 when in all honesty she hasn't really thought about him in a while. Then of course Paxton does what he does and she finally choose herself, issuing an ultimatum essentially. Paxton does eventually show up...but it's a choice by default. She just yo-yo's between them. She also needs to be single, deal with her loss, love herself and think about what she wants.

5. "Devi loves Paxton". Sure bud. Does have Devi have feeling for Paxton? Duh! But is it love. Nope. People like to confuse infatuation for love. She has been infatuated with this boy this the 3rd (she knew squat about him). When her dad died, she turns that infatuation into an obsession. It like becomes a full time hobby in season 1. She ruins relationships over it. In season 2 you can argue there is more depth to it and Paxton does grow in Season 2. But somehow she is still fixated on the fact that it's Paxton Hall-Yoshida. I mean she smells him (totally normal), Mc Enroe's comment at the relay was, "did this hunk of beef just say he likes spending time with her", when she breaks up him she says , "you are very good at kissing" not possibly any of his other good qualities. And at the end she says , "I guess I'm Paxton Hall Yoshida's girlfriend now". This boy is so far up a pedestal that if he fell of it, he'd break something. Now granted if he fell of it in Season 1, he'd be dead. So progress I guess...

Maybe the relationship will change in Season 3 and she genuinely falls in love with him. I mean Id be sad but obviously a real possibility. But also that relationship needs to move on from being just the "Paxton project" which it was basically all of season 2. Maybe actually talk about her every once in a while.

Also people who find the ending so amazing because he shows up...bare minimum bro. I understand his perspective, how does it look to go back with someone who cheated on you. Fair point 💯. However she didn't start this shit up again. He did. He liked her so much that he had to make out with her In the middle of the night out of the blue but not enough to respect her publically. That's some BS right there. If he started it, he should have thought it through instead of guilt tripping her. But he is a teenager and ALL of them make incredibly stupid decisions (we all have). Devi messed up big time too and she apologized. The same compassion must extend to him but in no way is it a grand gesture, it's the bare minimum...like her apologies

6. "Paxton forgave Devi forgave Devi so quickly whilst Ben didn't and was so mean". He did forgive her pretty quickly. Good for him. However let's not act like circumstance didn't carve the way for that. They were pushed together because of the whole tutoring thing and he knows that they have to see each other all the time. So logically just makes sense to keep the peace. But still mature oh his part. Also he wasn't as emotionally invested as Ben. Did he have feelings? Yes. However, based on his inner monologue (Gigi Hadid) his ego took more of a hit because how could Devi, the "weirdest girl" he ever liked two time him with Ben Gross. Did his feelings deepen by the end? Yes. But at the start...it isn't that deep.

Also it's great and all that he "forgave" her so quickly but he sure did like bringing it up a lot. Like at the relay guilting her, upset at the end of 6 because he failed...I mean wtf girl you owe me- I don't really care what else is going on in your life, again in episode 8 in the car and finally we all know the mess that is episode 10.

In regards to Ben. His anger is justified for reasons stated in point 1. In fact his reaction seems more real because he is deeply hurt by Devi. Do I like some of his reaction (i.e. nose piercing-will discuss this further) ...nope but she only sincerely apologises to him in episode 8 vs 3 for Paxton. He accepts it. People acting like they would be so calm and chill about being cheated on. And yes he did cheat on Shira. He tries to kiss Devi at party twice but apologises that day and the following week. He doesn't try anything with Devi the whole of episode 10 until she kisses him. He acknowledges that it was wrong and immediately breaks up with Shira. Although cheating is not something we should condone can we actually acknowledge that Shira was the worst and doesn't even remember Ben's name. Compare that to Devi's premeditated cheating. Her Eleanor are literally laughing at how amazing they are for pulling it off and Devi didn't care about either of their feelings cause she was going to be India. Sorry but that is far worse. She also thinks she can bullshit her apology with Ben. He isn't here for that...which is fine! He kept trying his level best to avoid her but even that she wouldn't let him do.

7. "Ben is Horrible". Has Ben done some shitty things. Absolutely. People complain that he has never apologised for anything. Fair enough. He needs to apologize for the UN comment and the psychosomatic comment. It was incredibly hurtful. However, no one does call him out of it. Now you could argue he should just do it. Please... have you watched these particular set of teenagers? None of them apologise without being called out on it first(except maybe Fabiola). And you only get called out my your support system ... which Ben does not have. He practically looks like he raised himself. He doesn't have parents to put him back in line or a sister to call him out on his shit. Devi has her mom, cousin, grandmum , Elanor, Fabiola and her therapist. Does she ever listen to them the first time? Nope. And her first time apologies are such messes. She only gets it right the 2nd or 3rd time. All of them have some form of support but not really him. And it is heartbreaking. It's why I genuinely believe he needs to go to therapy. He needs an outlet to express everything he feels. He also needs to be held accountable for those comments and understand the root of it (ok let's be honest Devi even in their rivalry was probably the most constant person in his life, and fighting with her meant she stayed close by- it's a subconscious thing). He should apologize to her and also find better ways to communicate what he is feeling. The nose ring thing was manipulative. I agree. He should apologize. But I'm not gonna lie, it doesn't piss me off as much because I think it's pretty messed that it took that for her to realise how much she hurt him. Also tbh if you were willing to alter your body on a 2 minute thought out dare, you wanted to do it anyway. But again not a healthy way to emote on Ben's part. The David thing doesn't upset me because he knows how to pronounce her actual name. It's not like he doesn't know how and doesn't bother to try. It was part of their rivalry to irritate her. I honestly find it quite endearing as part of their friendship and think Devi does. I may be wrong and she may not like it and in that case he needs to stop and apologize.

I am not upset by him coming over to her house and calling her out about Aneesa. She deserved it. Also if she was that uncomfortable she could have taken him outside to talk like she did with Paxton. She is clearly comfortable enough to have him in the house. And her therapist agrees with Ben. If he hadn't, she wouldnt have known that Aneesa was leaving. Her mom took away her phone. And even then her first attempt at an apology was soooooo bad. And I don't think Ben did it solely to get Aneesa to stay so he could date her. This is Ben, he was willing to do long distance with Devi from India, I think he could have done the same with Aneesa from like the same town 🙄

I genuinely like Ben because he is a good kid. He makes mistakes like they all do. His personality is hilarious to watch but also his and Devi's relationship is so special. Me liking Ben and Devi has nothing to do with what Paxton has or has not done. I just like the dynamic between the two. They obviously care deeply for each other. Their conversations are hilarious. I love their banter. I love how comfortable they are with each and am sometimes surprised by the depth of their conversations. But also they have amazing chemistry. All the jealous looks and angst are between these two idiots pining for each other. I think she does have chemistry with Paxton but it's more because he is PHY, school Adonis. I mean let's be honest, he'd probably have chemistry with Fabiola solely cause he is PHY. The two nerds just match each other and it's so funny how often they are in sync. It's honestly adorable. They just get each other. That bathroom scene was the sweetest thing and also proves he's not this terrible person. She only comes out of the stall because of his support. He is genuinely hurt for her when technically it should have been a great moment for him.

I do believe the two have to be single for a bit before admitting their feelings for one another and moving forward. That's why my main thing for season 3 is that he absolutely cannot interfere in her relationship with Paxton. He needs to give her the space to figure that. Do I think there will be moments between them... absolutely but no cheating please. Everyone needs to move on from that. If they do it...I honestly think il be done with the show.

Anyways sorry for the really long ramble. If you made it to the end thanks for your patience 😌

Thank you for this beautiful masterpiece, I pretty much agree with everything and need to put it out there for the world to see

#im obsessed with benvi and yall KNOW it #ben x devi #thanks for the response i was soooo entertained while reading it #never have i ever

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sympathy-for-thedamned · 2 years

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What do you see in Steelbeak?

"I would scrutinize you for questioning my personal choices in life, but given all I've said about Steelbeak, I can see why that would require an explanation."

"It's not as if those criticisms still don't stand, because they absolutely do. Ill make that clear - first and foremost."

"We understand each other, as business partners, and in a setting more personal. Being in the business we are, there are certain ways that one must conduct themselves, the fundamentals of hiding your emotions and being cold and cut-throat. Situations you're put in that change you in ways that few people can understand. It's nice to have someone to relate to on more business oriented matters, but that's not all."

"Because of being put in the position I was, it was hard to trust anyone to get the job done, much less with any kind of personal information. More than anyone, I know how fickle bonds are...

"But, with him, things are different. We understand each other on a level I never thought I would have with someone. He's seen me at my weakest, and never even thought it casting me out or putting a knife in my back like so many have prior."

"In fact, he once called me a hero for bailing him out of jail and giving him a sense of purpose and direction. It was...nice. Maybe it's because he told me that when I was at my lowest, but in that moment of vulnerability, it made me see that there was still something left. Despite all I've done, I still made a difference to someone. While it wasn't the difference I had originally strived for, I meant something to someone... and it touched me. "I had always believed that I needed to push people away. In this profession, if I didn't I'd be usurped easily or even killed. I was cold because I had to be, because everyone I'd ever known turned their backs on me. All I ever needed in life was self-reliance and people who'd help me get to the top."

"Playing a strategist numbers game was my best asset. However, somewhere along way, absolute power corrupted me absolutely, and I threw away my goals and even my humanity.

"Some people have to fall and look up from the height they fell from to see their mistakes in their full glory...and in hindsight, to see what their life had been up to that point. Steelbeak, in many ways, helped me to see from a perspective I couldn't have before.

"When we met again, I thought he'd just as soon kill me. Everyone else wanted my head, and I more than enough blood on my hands... He took me in, as pitiful as I was and showed me compassion, when I hardly deserved it.

But, it wasn't just that."

"He reminded me of what I missed out on this entire time. I thought he'd snap my neck in my sleep the first week of staying with him, but he didn't. A part of me hated his pity... but, it wasn't pity at all. It was kindness. All my life, I simply recoiled at such a thing, thought it to be some ploy that people use when they want something or evade punishment... deep down, I didn't deserve it, but had gave it to me anyway. For the first time in decades, I learned to put my trust in him. He's shown me that life isn't all about crunching numbers and being nefarious. "

"Dare I say it? We actually have fun together. I feel as though I can be myself around him. I can open up to him, and he understands me. We can sit around with a few drinks and reminisce on days of old, or talk about most anything. He makes me feel young again, and that's quite the feat. On a more superficial note, who wouldn't want an attractive man at their side?"

#asks #long post #bradford vs he is an idiot but he's MY idiot #these two have gone through so much together #it's kind of nice to talk about how much they've changed

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gwen-ever · 3 years

Text

Until My Last Breath (Chapter 1)

Summary: When Smaug arrived, he not only killed the dwarves of Erebor, but he also destroyed the lives of the few who survived... whether he did it on purpose or not.After a hundred years, a part of Thorin's past will come back to haunt him in the form of a dwarf who last knocks on the door of Bilbo Baggins' house, resurrecting old grudges and the pain of a life no one wants to talk about. Geira, daughter of Geiri, is anything but an open book, an exiled who no one wants around, a warrior who has no one to fight for, but only an oath she must fulfil.

Relationships: Thorin x FemaleOC

Rating: M

Warnings: angst,sad,

AO3 LINK: HERE

Notes: I would like to thank all of you, who commented the prologue, rebblogged it and liked it. It was a very heartwelming and I hope i wont let you down with this first chapter. In particular i need to thank@lathalea for always checking my chapters and make surei dotn mess up and, trust me, this week she really put a lot of effort to do so hahahahahha.The style its quite different from the one I will use in the rest of the story, it is just a general introduction but i really hope you cvould guess some things <3 <3 <3

Mashkil: Dirt

'Angûna: Filth

"What is she doing here?!" roared Thorin Oakenshield, an accusing finger pointing at the newcomer, who in the meantime had placed her wooden bow in a corner and removed her heavy black travelling cloak, worn out by numerous weather conditions.

She felt the king's gaze burn like fire, but tried avoiding glancing at him, even when he took one step towards her like an animal ready to attack. She shifted her gaze upwards, focusing instead on the tall figure of the sorcerer who was smiling at her with the side of his mouth.

"My dear, let me introduce you to the master of the house, Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf announced in a quiet voice, ignoring, as she did, the dwarf lord's question.

With small steps Gandalf stepped to the side, indicating a small hobbit in the middle of the hallway with his hand.

The hobbit bowed his head slightly to the side to get a better look at her. He probably didn't like being surrounded by all those intruders, and now that another one had been added, he was in complete panic. She could understand him, as she could imagine him being unaware of everything that was going on around him.

For a moment she felt genuine compassion for him, yet it was not as if she had entered in the best of moods and maintaining that facade of indifference was beginning to be difficult for her.

Keeping her composure she smiled at him slightly, making a small bow with her head as brought a hand to her chest grasping the flap of her red tunic.

"Geira, daughter of Geiri, at your service," she introduced herself.

"Traitor to her folk!" Dwalin added contemptuously, shouting at the top of his lungs.

She tries to ignore the dwarf words smoking with the side of her mouth to the Hobbit infront of her. But then another voice spoke, a voice which she could never forget either in a thousand years.

"What are you doing here, you dirty mashkil?!" Thorin growled loud, his voice echoing between the whole of the whole house.

Her intention to remain calm was shattered like a crystal glass thrown to the ground. A shiver ran down her spine and a sigh escaped her mouth. She slowly lowered her hand from her chest and the armour of indifference she had built up wavered at the mere sound of the dwarf speaking to her.

Geira looked up, finally returning Thorin's gaze. His blue eyes stared at her as cold as a winter night in a blizzard, and what she felt was... nothing.

She felt nothing, or so she told herself.

"You have not been asked for introductions, King Under the Mountain," she spit, as angry as ever.

As soon as she finished those words several elderly dwarves around the table burst into exclamations and in the blink of an eye some of them stood up and she recognised them, every single one who stood up..

She knew who they were and they knew who she was.

One dwarf in particular kicked the stool he was sitting on and slammed his two iron fists into the wooden table, making it creak under his force.

"You filthy traitor, say that again!" roared Dwalin, looking her straight in the face. “Try to say it again!”

Geira didn't have time to dwell on how much she could recognise him even after all those years, for her gaze was caught by the muscles in his arms that seemed to flare with anger, and the scars on his forearms seemed to come alive with a life of their own. So many years had passed, yet she felt no nostalgia, only a great emptiness, that was all she had to feel. Yet she had to pull herself out of that situation, for the sake of what she had promised herself.

"Sit down, Dwalin..." she murmured, brushing her fingertips over the pommel of her sword strapped to her side.

"Don't you dare tell me what I must do, you 'angûna, just breathing your air disgusts me. You should die just for daring to show your face here!"

"This is not dwarven territory..." she explained, gritting her teeth.

"As long as I'm under this roof, everything around me is dwarven territory!"

At this point, however, she could not control a grimace. "Ironic how you're watching and paying attention to my presence instead of thinking about how to take back your territory." she spit glaring up at him.

The dwarf roared, moving away from the table in one swift motion. "One order from you Thorin, and I will make her bitterly regret it! Bloody traitor!" he yelled out of himself.

Geira shifted her gaze to the dwarf king still standing, looking him straight in the eye as she waited for a silent response to the demands of the warrior dwarf beside her: and she got it.

The frown in the middle of his forehead deepened, but his eyes remained as cold, as icy, and as terrible as the ones he had looked at her with one last time so long ago.

A dominance in his gaze, an anger, a hatred that had brought her to her knees back then. A look that had drained her of all light inside, like the words that had followed shortly afterwards, the last words he had ever spoken to her.

But this one she was not begging him at his feet. If he wanted to take her life away once again this time, Thorin would have to do it by looking her straight in the eyes and fighting as equals.

Thorin had opened his mouth to give an order as she sharted to count her breath and moving her hand closer to her hip, but they both were preceded by the most unlikely voice of all, which unexpectedly defended her.

"Excuse me, but I don't think that's any way to talk to a lady." All eyes shifted to the side of the hallway, to Bilbo, some admiring, some confused, some threatening, even her owns, which grew wide eyed at such words. The hobbit stammered under that attention and linked his feet, "though, I mean... that's what you say it is.... that it is," he concluded, glancing at Thorin, "at least, not in my house. No sir!" he adjusted the braces of his trousers, more out of the discomfort he felt than anything else.

Geira let go of the hilt of her sword at her side, surprised at how the little hobbit had spoken to Thorin, perhaps because she didn't know who he was, but that small gesture of courage intrigued her, as something hadn't intrigued her in a long time. She noticed an amused look from Gandalf at the hobbit as he continued to rock back on his heels, probably expecting for Dwalin and Thorin to sit back down in their seats, but they did not.

Instead a clatter of crockery and a couple of chuckles rose from the door next the living room, intruding on the vast silence that had spread across the room, breaking the layer of ice that was growing thicker between all of them.

"Uh. uh someone has angered Master Dwalin, hold this pint brother, be very careful."

"I am careful, you're the one standing on my foot Kili!"

"Then move it, no? We're missing all the fun because of you!"

The entire room quickly turned towards the source of the noise, all but one dwarf, Thorin, who didn't take his eyes off the dwarf maid figure for a moment, and like the others, kept his attention towards the side door of the dining room.

Before Geira had a chance to wonder what was going on next door to the small dining room where the dwarves were sitting, two young dwarves appeared, two pints each in hand. One with hair as golden as molten gold, the other with brown hair, frizzy and terribly familiar.

Geira held his breath for a few seconds.

"Oh shut up Fili, you're always in the way, if you'd move over maybe I'd see why they stopped shouting too," the younger dwarf mocked his brother, raising his pints in the air to go sit in his seat.

"Surely uncle has finished," replied the other making the same movements as the brunette, "or the other burg...lady... has arrived...".

The blond-haired boy could not complete the sentence as soon as his blue eyes rested on Geira.

His mouth opened wide, causing the two beads on his moustache to sway to the side of his mouth.

The hazel-haired dwarf tilted his head to the side as he looked at his confused brother, slowly sitting back in his seat. "What is a burg...lady?"

Finally, his gaze landed on her as well, but unlike that of the dwarf still standing beside her, his open mouth soon turned into a warm smile.

"SO YOU ARE THE OTHER NEW MEMBER! WELCOME!" he yelled, opening his arms in the air, raising the two pints he still held in his hand.

Geira said nothing, remaining impassive, feeling the other brother's eyes still on her.

"WELL WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? TAKE A SIT! I ALSO HAVE ANOTHER PINT, IF YOU WANT IT !" The other dwarf invited her with a dramatic gesture of the goblet, but she did not move an inch.

“Kili…” Thorin murmured to the brown haired young dwarf, glancing at him.

“Why were you yelling like that then? And why are you still up, we were about to tell Mr Beggins how-”

“Kili,” the older of the two brothers, froze suddenly, casting a glance towards Geira's side calling his brother to attention.

Geira noticed him and casually covered the visible seal on the pommel of the sword with one hand and knew from the glittering brown eyes of the younger dwarf that he understood.

His big brown eyes widened, as did the blonde-haired dwarf's mouth. "You are a..." the dark-haired dwarf murmured as his mouth curled up in a small smile.

"Fili, Kili, be quiet!" Thorin stopped them, but the two young brothers continued undaunted, not realising that they were only making things worse.

"Oh, come on uncle, it's wonderful! It'll be all..."

Uncle.

"I said silence!" roared Thorin, slamming his fist on the table.

At the dwarf lord's growl the two brothers were astonished, opening their mouths wide but remaining as he had ordered in silence, however, casting pointed glances towards the opposite side of the room. They knew immediately that something was wrong.

Geira's hand slipped away from her pommel and she did not let them see what had caused her to hear those last words as the two young dwarves did as their uncle told them, sitting down in silence, but not stopping to look at her.

Geira looked up at Dwalin, who glanced at Thorin, who most likely replied with another glance, because he nodded in return. However, he did not fail to look at her one last time with a look full of fury.

The dwarven king narrowed his eyes slightly before he turned his attention to the sorcerer once more in complete silence.

"I want her to leave," he said emotionlessly.

"I am afraid it can't be possible," replied Gandalf calmly, as he returned to his seat.

"I won't let her stay here. I won't let her stand around my company, and put them in danger by only her presence," he growled low, talking as if she wasn't there listening. "I don't trust her! And I don't trust anything she says!" Thorin retorted seriously, not once looking at her face.

Geira clenched a fist, trying to keep her composure, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

How dare he speak of trust? Him of all people, when it was he himself who had betrayed hers. How dared he!

She gritted her teeth as a blind fury clouded her vision.

Gandalf remained silent for a few moments, observing the king of all dwarves before replying.

"You will have to, I did what I thought was right and calling her back from exile is the right choice," he explained.

"The right choice?" resumed Thorin, his blue eyes twinkling menacingly "And how, shall we hear?"

Gandalf gestured with his hand towards Geira, inviting her to speak with a movement of his head; thirteen heads turned towards her, and even Thorin laid, finally, his eyes on her face.

For a moment his gaze alone made her flinch, making her eat back words she had not yet spoken. And yet, she had to say them. For herself, for her father, for her one hundred and seventy years of exile and for all the pain she had to go through because of that damn dwarf who was staring at her. She swallowed up her anger and her vision slowly became clear again.

"I am here, to fulfil my oath," she explained, looking the dwarf king straight in the eye.

A thin chill spread through the room, seeping into the bones of the newcomers; Bilbo, however, watched the scene in curiosity, struggling to understand. Perhaps now he would receive the answers he had been waiting for since the beginning of that exhausting evening.

A dull clatter echoed through the room, the sound of a cup slamming against the wooden table.

"This is too much!" roared Dwalin as he pulled himself up onto his seat again. "One word from you, Thorin, and I will rip her head off her shoulders, as I should have done years ago!"

Thorin didn't answer; he stood up, continuing to look her straight in the eyes as if what she had just said was none of his business at all.

"Your oath?" he asked her calmly, too calmly. With a couple of strides he approached her, his fists clenched and his jaw contracted. "Your oath is worthless now. It was broken long ago. Your words, your oath are nothing more than a pile of cold ash," he began growling low.

She almost dug her nails into the skin of her hand.

"It is a lifetime oath, you were there when I had sworn it," she addressed him as calmly as he had.

Thorin's jaw clenched a second time and his breathing became irregular.

"And I was there when you broke it," he uttered a low growl. "I saw you break it, you did it before my eyes..." he added contemptuously.

A pang of pain cut through her chest as everything that had happened that day appeared in her head. She seemed to see his gaze again, to feel the tears running down her face, to feel her heart being torn from her chest. She seemed to see her world burning before her eyes, her life burning before her eyes, and then... the exile.

The exile to which he had condemned her.

"I don't want to keep my oath for you if that's what you're worried about, King Under the Mountain," she spit staring directly into his eyes.

"I don't care why you want to keep it, I don't need you to keep it!" Thorin shouted at her, roaring out of his mind. "Your words mean nothing to me, a'lâju Mahal!”

A scraping of a chair followed the dwarf lord's words. "Thorin..." whispered Balin, but Thorin was as unstoppable as a blazing fire.

"You have no place among us, you have no honour, you have no name, you have no clan, you are nothing!

Your oaths were broken when you turned your back on us! Your blood is as tainted as your father's!"

For Geira that was the final straw. He shouldn't even dare to mention his father, shouldn't even try, king or not! Oath or no oath, he had no right.

Her hand tightened on the pommel of her sword. This time she approached him, with a couple of strides. She looked down at him as words began to pour out of her mouth like a flood.

"Then let Dwalin cut off my head now, this instant, for I assure you, Thorin son of Thrain, that I would rather be buried underground than fulfil the words I spoke to your kin years ago!" she retorted mercilessly. "If I could, I would retreat them one by one!"

"Be quiet, traitor!" he yelled at her, slamming his fist on the wall next to him.

"ENOUGH!" the darkness fell over those present before Geira could reply; they all fell silent at the power unleashed by Gandalf, who now stood menacingly over them, glowering. He glared down at them, a gesture that made them feel almost smaller than usual. Almost. For, as certain as the sun rising in the east, dwarves were not so easily frightened, not even if the subject in question was a wizard.

"You dwarves and your stubbornness! You will bring us to ruin before we even begin our journey! Geira will come with us. If I say her presence is essential, then it is essential! Her reasons do not matter to me as they should not matter to any of you!"

"It does matter," Thorin's deep voice rose from the silence that had enveloped his companions. "You cannot ask us to trust her, Gandalf. What she has done is..." the dwarves' attention shifted from her to Gandalf again.

"I know of it, but I ask you for the sake of this quest to leave old grudges aside; otherwise, we will not get very far if you continue to quarrel. When we reach the Lonely Mountain..."

Gandalf froze for a moment averting his gaze to her for a moment and then back to Thorin again. "Geira will accompany us there and then help us to reclaim it and th-"

"Then I will leave, if that is what you wish for Thorin Oakenshield," she concluded, giving a glance to his hand still on the wall next to her.

Thorin raised an eyebrow and slowly began to back away a few steps returning to his seat. "It is what I wish for as of now, for you to leave us, and that will not change," he stated, casting a glance at her hair, so short that it showed her neck, and her shoulders and part of her hear. The same length she had when he saw her for the last time.

"I don't want it to change..." she answered back as after a long time she felt ashamed again of those short locks.

The cut he gave to her.

And that was what they were for, to make her disgusted with herself, and in the absurdity it had been her choice to cut them so much that she had scratched her scalp the first time she had done it. She had cut every single lock and braid, counting them one by one as well as the short sideburns on the side of her face, shaving as short as she could the side of her head, leaving her right side a bit longer than nothing.

And with a last disgusted glance of Thorins on her head the discussion stopped.

Geira bit her tongue, lowering her gaze, and after that long wait, accepted a chair that the Hobbit gently offered her with a smile on his face all the while the chatter that had taken place before her arrival resumed.

But the grave atmosphere continued to permeate the walls of the room.

Nor did the tense mood change when everyone's attention turned to the Hobbit.

Geira wondered if his stammering was from the bewilderment of the various news stories, or his actual way of speaking: probably the first option. She saw him frown, countless wrinkles forming on his forehead as he tried to figure out what kind of trouble they were getting him into. She felt tremendously close to him at that moment: she would have gladly walked through the round door to get away from there, but she had promised Gandalf that she would stay. She had promised herself and her father; no more running, no more hiding. It was time to show everyone that she was not what they said she was, she had never been.

She paid no particular attention to the various explanations Gandalf and Thorin gave Bilbo, but it was when they handed him the long contract that her attention was caught again. She saw the hobbit intent on reading it, concern palpably making its way into his thoughts and gestures.

"Incineration?" he asked incredulously, unfolding the parchment better; perhaps he was convinced he had read it wrong. "...I'm going to faint.... " he said, his voice uncertain and trembling.

"Think of a furnace with wings: a flash of light, searing pain, and poof! You are nothing more than a pile of ash!" began Bofur, looking out of the doorway where she sat.

Bilbo lost all colour in his face, turning pale, too pale. It sounded like an alert to Geira; she held her breath until the other fainted, falling to the green carpet like a sack of potatoes.

Had his courage in speaking to Thorin been a flash of courage, then?

It was only then that they all sprang to their feet and tried to reach him, but in doing so they created an immense confusion, whereupon Gandalf ordered them all to go outside for some air. Dwalin and Nori helped him to lift Bilbo up and bring him to his senses, while Geira, again on Gandalf's advice, fumbled around in the kitchen to make him a cup of tea, trying to do as little damage as possible. She risked, for example, to spill the water from a nice blue and yellow cup, plus splash the boiling water from the teapot all over the place. Cooking in a real kitchen, that was something she hadn't done in a long time, as well as tinkering with this kind of fine crockery. She adjusted her black armguards and with a sharp movement of her hand and rolled up her sleeves a bit. She completed the laborious mission, delivering the drink to the owner of this house who, in the meantime, had woken up and was sitting in the living room in a comfortable armchair.

As soon as he heard her coming, he followed her every gesture with watchful eyes, until she broke the silence, handing him the cup full of aromatic tea.

"Your gaze has not ceased to follow me since I crossed your threshold, Bilbo Baggins; I have a feeling you have many questions for me," she told him, trying to force a smile and be as friendly as she could be.

It was all so difficult.

"Well, I... " he was stunned, not knowing how to continue, perhaps embarrassed at being caught in the act. He watched her in silence as she found a place by the lit fireplace, resting her back against the side of it. "Well, you... you're like them, aren't you?"

"A dwarf?" she asked him in turn, hinting at a smile at such innocence.

He nodded his head, passing the hot cup through his hands. "But, well, I had heard that dwarf women... they had..." The hobbit froze suddenly and fell silent, passing his gaze quickly to her face just above.

A sigh escaped her and she decided to tell him a half-truth.

"I cut them off a long time ago..." she explained hastily, but without ever trying to offend him in any way. She took a breath, trying to find an excuse in her head that would satisfy his curiosity. "A sign of... mourning..." she murmured.

It was not the whole truth.

Bilbo looked at her carefully, trying to see in those black eyes all the suffering they concealed; and suddenly his mind asked so many questions that it became involved: how long had it been since he had felt so interested in someone? He had kept to himself as much as possible, letting those four walls envelop him like a warm, soft blanket, in a slight torpor that had been shattered by the arrival of the dwarves. And Geira's.

His curiosity got the better of him, and he could not keep his mouth shut, not even putting the cup to his lips and sipping the hot tea.

"M-may I ask you another question?" he asked her, watching her eyes gradually lose themselves in the flames of the fireplace. "Is it true what they told you earlier? Those names they refer to you... are they true?"

"Are you afraid I will stab you in your sleep?" she answered him piquantly, raising an eyebrow.

Bilbo cursed himself, cursed him and his curiosity Tuc.

"N-no... no..." He was about to apologise when the girl shrugged, evasive.

"I'm exiled, it's true, but a traitor... that... no... no, never…” she looked again into the fire, which was crackling quietly before them. "I am here for one purpose only, and to keep a promise I made, long ago, far too long ago..." she murmured, turning back to him: curious but respectful grey eyes in deep, haunted black ones.

"You all have a purpose, a mission in this whole thing... I...I am just a hobbit, I am not what you all think I am..."

Geira watched as the hobbit's fingers held the cup and his gaze suddenly clouded over.

These were good questions he was asking himself, yet Gandalf believed in him, and the dwarves in the other room believed him more than they did with her, one of their own kind.

For a few moments he reminded her of a young dwarf lady in a large luxurious room in a distant mountain years and years ago wondering what she wanted to be in life.

Slowly she approached him, kneeling beside his green armchair and resting her hands on the armrest.

"I think you will only find out if you come with us; there is more to you than meets the eye, Bilbo. I saw it before, and... even if you don't see them, they're there, they're always there," she told him gently, marvelling at her own words.

Why was she talking to him like that, in that tone, as if she knew him? As if another person, as if he was interested in her opinion, perhaps because she hadn't spoken to someone like that in months. Still, it wasn't enough of a justification, but Geira found herself continuing.

"The journey will be fraught with danger, from outside and within the Company. That will take courage, but also a deep fear of the unknown to do what we must do. Because what we will find on the other side of the known world could be anything… or nothing. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to come with us.”

"Danger… within... the Company?"

Geira was about to answer, but their eye contact was interrupted by the arrival of the wizard, who had come to make sure of his friend's health.

"Excuse me," the dwarf-woman took her leave of the two, leaving them alone to talk; she fastened her cloak, but as soon as she placed her hand on the door knob, Bilbo's voice reached her.

"Thank you, miss Geira," he said.

“You can call me Geira” she answered, turning her head to the small hobbit sittin on the armchair.

H just nodded, looking at her with big eyes before shifting his attention to the cup in his hands

She turned, seeing a tense but grateful smile on his lips; she half-smiled as well, opening the door and stepping out into the light night breeze.

She had to calm her nerves, she had to calm down in order to regain her self-control and her coolness, which had been severely tested by the events of the evening: from an inside pocket of her cloak she took out her long white wooden pipe; from another, she took out her pipe-weed. Shortly afterwards she was blissfully smoking, sitting on the bench just outside the door; the long puffs produced small clouds that dispersed in the air: she followed them with her eyes until they disappeared, while her mind was lost in the meanders of her twisted thoughts. Did Bilbo feel out of place? And she, what was she to say? Of course, she had known from the beginning, from the moment Gandalf had introduced himself to her in that village of Men, that this would be anything but a walk in the wood: too many prejudices hovered among the dwarves, including herself, too many things left unsaid.

She felt like a flower in the frost, or perhaps she was the frost.

She shook her head, sucking in another breath that made her think better: she was there for a good reason, she had explained it to Bilbo; she just had to concentrate on that and that was it. It mattered little if they ignored her, if they did not speak to her along the leagues they had to travel, or if they were suspicious and indifferent. She would let them, their gazes should slide over her like water over her skin, she should just... just end those years.

What the wizard had told her had been gnawing at her for weeks. The likelihood of a hope, that if she fulfilled her oath perhaps, if she didn't die in the process, she would restore her name and she could... return home. But the real question was, did she want to go home and why was she still holding on to a broken oath?

"Are we interrupting?"

A young voice shook her from her outcast thoughts, finding one, or rather two young dwarves beside her... They were the two who had tried to convince Thorin to include her in the group - Fili and Kili, if she remembered correctly, the ones who had figured out what she was, who she was... Thorin's nephews. Two princes.

She took the pipe from her mouth and a mixture of emotions stirred in her chest, a desire to drive them out mixed with the urge to ask them to stay.

They were waiting for an answer to the question, she realised only after she found two pairs of puzzled eyes, waiting.

"Depends on what you want," she replied cautiously.

She didn't like the answer much, but the two stood there, undaunted. The black-haired dwarf with a youngster’s stubble sat down beside her, not waiting for an invitation; although he sensed Geira's suspicious glances, he did not pay heed to them. He took out his pipe and, after lighting it, squatted down more on the bench, puffing out small clouds of smoke.

"We just wanted to share some tobacco with you, nothing else," he insisted, sketching a brief smile.

"But maybe I don't want to share," Geira replied stubbornly.

The boy widened his eyes and looked at her almost displeased. Geira scolded herself, perhaps that wasn't the right way to go: they were her companions now, and she should at least try not to pick a fight with them. Yet it was proving so complicated, and the second boy's blue eyes didn't make it easy for him at all.

The nephews... the sons of…

"You should, if you don't want to isolate yourself before we leave..." the blond-haired, bearded dwarf attacked her: even in the moonlight she could see his blue eyes shining; so familiar it hurt.

Her fingers gently touched the inlaid hilt of her long sword, with which she never parted, seeking some form of strength, courage or, why not, peace of mind.

She forced himself not to let the acidity of his words show, "I thought I was already an outcast before I left, Master Dwarf. And forgive me, but I still don't know your names, which doesn't seem fair since you know mine."

The one sitting next to her laughed, throwing back his head, "You are right, forgive us, but the circumstances before did not allow us. I am Kili, this is my brother Fili, we are the sons of Vili and princess Dìs,"

Sons of Dìs.

A bite in her stomach made her pipe clench in her hand and suddenly her chest became incredibly heavy. The sons of Dís, Princess Dís.

How many years had passed? Had it really been that long? Had time around her really begun to move so slowly that she did not know how many years she had lived that life?

They were kids, but they were older than she had been when everything changed.

“Very well, then, Fili and Kili…” she murmured under her breath.

Geira remained silent and tried to calm her heartbeat after the latest information she had received. She sucked in another puff of smoke realising that there was, in fact, no more tobacco; she cursed silently and wiped it off, then put it back in her pocket. She wrapped herself a little more in her cloak as a gust of air penetrated her heavy clothes, fit for travel.

"Not very talkative, are you? Yet with the hobbit you spoke, I heard you!" asked Kili, sitting too close.

"You are talkative for both of us, young prince," she said, his eyes widening for a moment and then narrowing to slits, unexpectedly suspicious.

Geira caught herself explaining before the situation escalated. "You called Thorin ‘uncle’ earlier; I do not possess magical powers, if that is what you fear,"

"I didn't think so. But I am surprised that you called me young: yet, you do not seem as old as Balin, or Dori or Master Oìn..."

This time it was Geira's turn to smile. She barely lifted a corner of her lips, but it was enough for Kili: if only he had known.

"Looks can be deceiving: to me, you are certainly quite young, just boys."

"Then how many..."

His brother Fili interrupted him forcefully, "The sword, where did you t-"

"Lads, please return; the hobbit has made up his mind," Balin interrupted Fili's question, and allowed Geira to avoid answering uncomfortable questions to say the least.

The old dwarf gave her a brief but penetrating glance, but he did not bother to ascertain whether she was following him or not, so Geira opted to stay out there a little longer, alone; she left the door to Bag End half open and, from the confusion that followed, deduced that Bilbo had denied her help. Part of her felt terribly sorry and sad: she had accepted the fact that she would be leaving in the company of dwarves who hated her, but the torture seemed less heavy, knowing that a face less hostile than others would be at her side. She sighed loudly, trying to catch screams, reproaches or furious, stubborn phrases, but her ears met with the silence that reigned in the house; curious, she got up and, without making the slightest noise, looked out of the door to peek inside. She recognised Thorin's broad back covered by a fur cloak, his long, neatly wavy hair falling past his shoulders; he was leaning against the fireplace in the hall, where she had been standing before while everyone else was standing around him.

A melody sung with his mouth closed emerged from the silence; then his voice, deep and warm, filled the room, spreading through the air like perfume.

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day

To find our long-forgotten gold.

Geira held her breath, melody from the very first notes, but.. the words, they were different from what she remembered. She frowned but then stop to worry and started to listen as Thorin's voice passed through her ears and went straight into her heart. She felt a strong grip on her chest, as if some invisible hand had tightened around her heart; those words tasted of something long forgotten, of longing for something lost. They tasted of home, of family. Her mind played the terrible trick of making her see again the places she had walked in Erebor as a child: squares, streets and alleys, palaces full of gold, stables, armouries... and then dwarves walking, working, children running and screaming. All this had died with the city, swallowed up by the terror of the dragon, and she had not had the chance to see it one last time. Soon, Thorin was not the only one singing; the others joined him, singing the last verse that reminded them of the same feelings.

The pines were roaring on the height,

The winds were moaning in the night,

The fire was red, it flaming spread,

The trees like torches blazed with light.

The song ended, but the sadness lingered on. Geira drew back quickly, returning to the embrace of darkness, her long-time friend; far from prying eyes, she wiped away the tears that had mockingly escaped her lashes, forming a small furrow on her rosy cheeks. She blinked several times to squeeze out more tears and breathed deeply, trying at the same time to calm down and listen to the king's instructions for the next morning's departure.

"Try to get as much rest as possible; Gandalf will show us to our quarters..."

There followed a great commotion, a sign that everyone was gathering their knick-knacks: as she did not want to show himself in such a pitiful state, she decided to wait outside; perhaps, with the favour of darkness, no one would notice the signs of crying.

As expected, the others came out, dark in face; they glanced at her in passing, then disappeared down a path towards a small inn. As soon as the last of them, Ori, was out of sight, she went into the house, looking for her bow, which she found where she had left it, leaning against the wall of the small kitchen. She took a quick glance around, noticing the cleanliness and order that once again reigned supreme, as if nothing had happened. It was indeed a fine home, fit for someone who loved his life and would not change it for all the gold in the world.

She secured her bow to her back, picked up her quiver, and hoisted it over her shoulder. She reached the hall with great, heavy strides, but froze when her eyes fell upon the long contract written by Thorin and countersigned by Balin on the footstool in front of the chair. With a knot in her throat, she saw that the place for Bilbo's signature was spotless, empty. She sighed again, brushing it with her fingers.

She felt guilty: it was she who had warned him of what lay ahead, who had told him that she would not blame him if he refused, and that she, too, might leave the Company to its fate; so when he had thanked her, had she already decided in her heart not to take part? She ran a hand through her short hair, touching every lock from her forehead to the back of her neck.

"He will come, do not fear," her left hand ran quickly to the scabbard, drawing the sword she carried at her side; it was only when she was in a defensive position that she recognised Gandalf, who had entered without her hearing him. He walked towards her, his hands clasped behind his back and the usual sardonic smile always on his lips; he watched her for long moments, with those blue eyes that could dig into you, until they read your soul. And Geira, in her heart, was afraid of it.

"That contract will be signed very soon," he insisted, now closer to her.

"'Are you so convinced? The young hobbit wasn't convinced, I've seen that kind of look too many times, from young soldiers, recruits, and even head guards," almost without realizing it, she found himself again brushing against that yellowed paper, and those handwritten characters of those who had once been part of her world.

"Oh, I hope so! But, usually, my convictions always turn out to be correct!"

"Like me coming here?" she said directly as she looked up at him.

Gandalf took a deep breath, tilting his head down slightly to keep it from slamming into the ceiling. "That is the uncertainty that, though you will not believe me, has plagued me these many weeks," he explained quietly. "I will not hide from you that I thought you were not coming.”

"I didn't want to," Geira admitted. "I waited in Aldburg for as long as I could," she concluded, smoothing out the traveling bag on her shoulder with a movement of her shoulder.

The wizard nodded his head before speaking. "I see. What made you change your mind?"

At that unexpected question Geira stiffened all of a sudden. She had spent weeks in the room of the inn in the small village in the kingdom of Rohan, mulling over the offer the wizard had made to her, and up until a fortnight ago she had been more than sure that she would not participate in the expedition. Why should she, why should she accept what Gandalf had told her outside that inn as true. He knew nothing of what was to come, and yet the prospect he held out to her was too much even for a hardened soul like hers.

He could revoke the exile, you could go back home, fulfil your oath and be free, Geira. Isn't it what you want? Being free again?

"Because I don't want to die like this, in the dirt of a Men’s village with an invisible chain wrapped around my chest ... I don’t want to be bound to him anymore, I want his nephews to see their home,they are the new hope for Durin’s folk" she explained hastily, speaking like a dirge she had learned by heart.

"And not him?”

She looked up to Gandalf . “Would you ask this to a victim of an executioner? Or to a leftover wife of a soldier?”

“It depends on how much the victim cared for the executioner, and vice versa,” he explained with a soft voice.

For Geira it was like receiving a punch in the middle of her sternum; she felt a sudden urge to shout out her frustration, her anger, to give vent to the rage she had kept jealousy inside her all evening. He knew, Gandalf knew, yet he dared to say that to her, if it was to achieve a goal of his as he had already seen him do, it would not work this time, not with her.That was the point of no return for her; controlling her tears was almost impossible, as was not taking the sword from the hilt and pointing it at the wizard, even though she knew what would happen.

Furious, she began to tremble, looking the wizard straight in the face and finally and, after months, asked him the question that was eating her alive.

“Why did you want me to come?!” she growled “You have warriors, you have clever dwarves and useful ones. Why did you come to me, and do not tell me you did it for me!” she nearly roared.

As he had done for the rest of the evening, Gandalf remained silent for a few seconds, watching her. He did not get angry or upset, but he looked at her in such a way that everything around her seemed to grow cold and sad and for a moment she felt the same way.

“Because you have to fulfill your oath,” he told her again.

“I did not intend to fulfill it! That oath was broken long ago as was the one that he swore to me! Stop lying to me! ” she insisted, pleading with him with her eyes.

He owed that to her, an answer a simple answer, she was not asking more. She just wanted to know why Gandalf wanted her to torture heself, why he wanted her so bad in that Company why he cared that much that forced Thorin to accept her as a member of his Company.

He sighed softly, smiling sadly with the side of his mouth “I didn't, I did it for the executioner, for the warrior, for the king...”

Geira parted her lips, astonished but quivering with anger; unexpectedly she smiled, a sad smile, without a hint of joy painted on her face. “You know Gandalf, now I understand why you lied to me, because if these are the real reasons, you know I'm sure I would have turned down your invitation back then.

And without saying anything more she turned and walked out of the rounded green door.

She left the hobbit’s house behind her, following the same path the others had taken, passing other green mounds - hobbit dwellings - and finally resting at the inn where the whole company was already staying, but still awake. And she would know that that night, like many others, she would not find rest, because a question had begun to arise, a question about a story she had been telling herself for too many years: was she really only doing this for herself? Yes was the answer, because if it were otherwise she would rather die by his hand than go through it all again. To feel again. To be betrayed again.

The flames burned up to the sky. The fumes came out of every window from every balcony from every hole in which they found a passage. The screams rose high in the air and thundered in the valley below her. The yellow and blue fabrics danced a dance of death and destruction as they walked out the shattered marble door. Children clung to their parents' necks in fear. The women and men wept as they watched the bodies scattered on the door under the rubble as they were pulled away by those few who had not yet been gripped by grief.

The once green pines and grass on either side of the mountain had become a heap of ash and coal.

Her tears would not stop flowing, her armor had become heavy as a boulder that prevented her from moving.

Then a desperate scream under the hill where she was about her came to her ears making her almost fall to her knees under the weight of her helplessness and guilt.

His formerly desperate blue eyes turned to pure amazement as they landed on her.

One scream, one last scream before the realization of what would happen as she watched her heart burn in the rubble with her oaths and with the one dwarf who possessed it.

"I told you coming here would be a waste of time!"

"To hire a hobbit, where did you get such an idea?!"

"I did not think such a small body could possess so much..."

"Stubbornness, Oìn?"

"Well, why would he help us if he doesn't even know us?" noted Bofur, returning to light his pipe with a tinderbox and sitting down better on the window sill.

"Gandalf promised us the hobbit would accompany us; and if he said so, we must trust him."

"How about a bet, then? Come on, Nori! What do you say?"

There began a long chatting that involved them all, those who bet for or against Bilbo's arrival by the next morning. The commotion that permeated the small room of the inn, where they were to sleep, allowed two dwarves to move into the corridor, away from prying eyes and ears.

"What do you think, laddie?" asked the older dwarf, smoothing his long white beard.

The other sighed wearily, the ever-present wrinkle in the middle of his forehead more than worth a thousand words; even after he had removed his heavy cloak and remained in his long blue tunic covering his breeches, his figure was imposing and commanded awe and respect.

No matter how hard Balin tried, he still found it hard to believe that this dwarf, a child, who later became a young boy, would become king so soon, faced two major battles that had taken everything from him and with which he had to deal every day, every night; the old dwarf knew this for sure: not even in his dreams was Thorin Oakenshield free, safe from rancour and remorse.

"I think this mission has started under the worst of auspices: I wonder..." he paused, not quite sure what to say next.

"Whether we should proceed?"

The king nodded, but his gaze was far from convinced, lost in thoughts unknown to most, but intuitable to Balin; or, at least, most of the time. But, to be on the safe side, he decided to broach the subject calmly, one step at a time.

"Don't distress yourself about the hobbit: if you hadn't beckoned to me and brought me here, I would have placed a bet in his favour, you know?" he gave a half-smile, but that did not relax his companion’s tense features, quite the contrary. He made a contemptuous sound, halfway between sceptical and desperate.

"Dwalin was right: it was a waste of time coming here. It was folly to believe in his help; but even without him, we must proceed. No, it's not his presence I'm worried about... no... not him."

Here was the raw nerve, the sore point: just as Balin had imagined; it was not the thought of the failed burglar that plagued him.

"Thorin..." he began, laying a hand on his forearm. But as soon as he did, the muscles under his shirt twitched and the old dwarf was stopped with a raised hand and a grim look.

Seeing him in that state did not help Balin either, after all: after all, he was like a son to him. And fathers were always distressed when their children were not calm and happy.

"No, Balin. I don't want to talk about it," was his curt reply; and no matter how much the elder dwarf insisted, he would not be heard. His king's pride was mightier than reason, which struggled to prevail: for if he had even tried to think, Thorin would have understood; but stubbornness and anger blinded him.

Balin sighed loudly and shook his head, but he hoped in his heart that this journey would bring other victories than the lost pride of the dwarves.

Dawn came too soon, and continuous yawns surprised Geira as she rinsed her face with cold water and then strapped the sword to her side, but first she pulled it from its sheath, examining the blade for new scratches. Daylight broke over it, sending blinding glints down the walls: her hand stroked the inlaid and worked hilt, which gave the sword its name, more closely. Forged by her, for her alone, and branded on the hilt by... him.

That sword was her past, her present, her future perhaps. All she still possessed was that sword, all that bound her to what she had been was that sword that had allowed the two princes to know who she was and what she had been. She had managed to avoid their questions but she was sure, having seen the two princes, that they would ask Balin, Dwalin... Thorin for confirmation. And what would they answer? Was her oath really broken and she was just fighting the wind? No. She was to the death and would fulfil it, or die rather than live like this any longer. Without being able to speak a word to any dwarf.

She put the sword back where it belonged, and stopped losing herself in useless thoughts; she took a quick, final look around the room, tracing the outline of the simple wooden bed, the chest against the wall, and the windowsill, on which was a vase of fragrant lilac and yellow flowers: perfect, she had forgotten nothing. She arranged her traveling back better on her shoulder and closed the door, going downstairs; he thanked the innkeeper with a nod and a coin, then went out into the warm morning air. Outside, a riot of colours and scents invaded her, leaving her stunned: everything was so wonderfully green, and as the evening before she wondered what life could be like there.

"Good morning!" Kili's smiling face took her mind off her pesnier again, just like the night before in every way.

He stood in front of her, crunching a stick of beef jerky between his teeth, soon joined by his brother Fili, who had two in his mouth. "Come, we'll show you your pony," he said.

"My Pony?" she asked, incredulous.

With a gesture of his head, Fili invited her to follow them, or rather to follow her younger brother, who had already started walking with his arms behind his head. They took her to the back of the inn, where three animals stood in a large enclosure. Kili opened the wooden gate and pointed out the pony, a female with an entirely white coat, tame and quiet: Geira approached her, stroking her gently; she neighed, appreciating the gesture and making her new mistress smile. From the bag she took out a red apple and handed it to her, watching her devour it voraciously: yes, she liked it, she admitted; and it would be a good companion for the journey.

"Thanks, lads" she said with a smile turning towards the two brothers.

The dwarves bowed their heads in response, finishing lacing up the last of their bags of supplies, then dragged their steeds out of there, where the others were waiting for them; Geira followed, not receiving any greetings from the other members, just a deep silence, making her clearly remember what the others thought of her. Even the smile on her lips vanished in the blink of an eye.

Without a word, she hoisted herself up onto the saddle, settling in better. When they were all still and ready, Thorin cast his gaze over them all, including Gandalf, as if seeking some support, some security... or fear.

He made no speech, there was no need: they all knew what they were getting into, what the risks and dangers were, but they were ready; they were going to regain their homeland, there was nothing nobler than that,

their hearts were for their home. They were for Erebor: and they would hardly be discouraged or lose the purpose of their journey

The king turned his pony, leading it along the streets of Hobbiton, followed by the others.

Geira did not look back, but kept her gaze fixed ahead, her heart a little heavy and a little relieved, she could not quite explain why. She remained silent as they left the city and entered the large clearing lined with huge old trees, thinking with regret of the sort of friendly figure who might have cheered her journey and comforted her when all seemed lost. Who knows, perhaps Gandalf tended to overestimate himself a little too much, if he believed that his convictions always turned out to be right and positive …

"Wait!"

A familiar voice brought her to a halt, and so did the others; she turned swiftly in the saddle, hardly able to believe her eyes: Bilbo Baggins had just stopped beside Balin's pony, exhausted from his long ride; he caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow as he held out the contract to the elderly dwarf with one hand, claiming to have signed it. As soon as Balin verified the authenticity of the signature - a gesture that Geira found amusing anyway - he announced that he was welcome to Thorin Oakenshield's company; applause and whistles of welcome followed, interrupted by the king.

"Give him a pony!"

Bilbo tried to object, as he had never ridden a pony before, but Kili and Fili cleverly hoisted him up; Geira managed to catch the hobbit's eyes and, to his great surprise, he was stunned: she smiled at him, a warm and sincere smile.

And then the hobbit knew he had made the right choice.

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