#esben wingfeather
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@monthly-challenge 2024 | “first kiss” (but make it platonic)
Hi yes I’m posting another fic no I don’t know how. Enjoying it though. Artham Wingfeather my beloved.
read on A03
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When Esben bursts through the doors, Artham shoots to his feet and expects the worst. He’d been daring to hope for hours now, keeping a sturdy faith in the Maker’s goodness, and that hope hadn’t once vanished or lessened—even after the sun set and the stars came alive, long after the moon made its journey across the midnight sky, and all the way up to the gentle but brilliant sunrise. He hadn’t lost his hope. He hadn’t lost his faith.
But now, all the hope and faith in the world evaporates like water, leaving Artham with a sick, sinking hole splitting his chest apart. Something went wrong. Something went so terribly wrong. One of them didn’t make it. None of them made it. No one could help. No one could do anything. It’s all over now. No more can be done.
Something went wrong.
Esben spins around, searching wildly. His eyes catch Artham’s and then he stills. His hair is greasy and tangled. There’s tear tracks on his face.
Artham’s breath stops in his throat.
And then Esben laughs—or cries or sobs or shouts, or maybe all of them at once. And Artham’s breath returns; the sinking hole in his chest begins to mend itself. It’s okay.
“How are things?” He asks, which seems far too refined a question to ask in a situation like this, but it’s all Artham can think to say—and he wants to know.
“Great! Perfect, just brilliant!” Esben laughs (it’s clearly a laugh this time) and gleefully runs his fingers through his hair. “Nia’s- she’s as bright and beautiful as ever, even- oh Artham, you should’ve seen her. As surely as I stand today, there’s never been a braver woman in all of Anniera—no, in all the world! She’s just- oh, I don’t know. I don’t know how she managed to do that. I could never, certainly… oh, surely not.”
He shakes his head, a somewhat horrified look coming upon his face, before he looks up, brightening. His eyes are shining like the sea. “It’s a girl.”
And then Artham does what he should have done the moment Esben opened those doors: he races forward, quick as the wind, and pulls his brother to himself, one hand on the back of his head. Esben cries, returning the embrace with shaking arms.
Artham holds on tighter.
He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, hugging in the middle of a hallway. It could’ve been decades or millennia and Artham would have never pulled away.
But then Esben is bouncing, unfurling his arms from his brother and taking a step back. His eyes are bright like sunlight despite the bags underneath. He looks free. “What are we doing, all the way out here? Come on, you have to meet her! Just think Artham, you have a niece now!” He grins. “How cool is that?”
Artham opens and closes his mouth. Oh. A… a niece. Him. He has a niece now. Oh.
Esben chuckles. “You’re speechless. Y’know, I can always count on having a kid to shut your mouth for a few blessed minutes.” He winks, clearly joking, but Artham barely hears the words.
I have a niece. She’s a girl. I’m an uncle to a girl.
“I-”
“Come on!” Esben hurries forward, taking Artham’s hand like a child and rushing through the doors and into the bedroom. Artham blinks, following blindly.
The lights are low, a quiet and steady dimness that feels comforting. The midwives must have left by this point, because all that remains is Nia, sitting against a tower of pillows in bed. She’s holding something small close to her chest.
Artham gasps. His feet stumble.
Nia looks up; she looks tired, with hair sticking to her face and dark spots under her eyes and lines on her forehead, but Esben was right: she’s as bright and beautiful as ever. There’s a glow that seems to radiate from her whole being, happiness and relief and gratitude all rolled into one. She smiles. “Hello, Artham.”
“Congratulations, my lady,” Artham stutters, because that’s the sort of thing he ought to say to someone who just gave birth. Right? He said it for Janner and Kalmar, didn’t he?
Nia dips her head in thanks, and Artham’s nerves are somewhat eased. That’s the sort of thing he ought to say, then.
“Come on!” Esben urges, dragging Artham forward a few steps. “You have to see her!”
Artham realizes that he and Esben had walked in holding hands, and Nia had said nothing about it. She had only smiled.
Somehow, Artham’s love for his sister-in-law grows.
Esben leads him all the way to the edge of the bed, where he stops and grins so wide it seems his mouth will jump right off his face. Artham stands there dumbly.
“Do you see her?” Esben asks dreamily. “Do you see how perfect she is?”
Artham leans forward slightly, eyes wide as he searches for the tiny thing. Nia smiles and gently tilts the bundle in her arms towards-
“Oh,” Artham breathes. “Oh.”
Because in Nia’s arms, wrapped in a soft blanket, is a baby; an unbelievably small, amazingly delicate baby.
Artham leans even closer, watching the baby’s nose gently flare with silent breaths. Her eyes are shut, her skin is pink, and Artham thinks she may be the most perfect thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
“She’s beautiful,” He murmurs, and Nia beams.
“Do you want to hold her?”
Artham tears his gaze away from the baby, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”
“Our child.” Nia tilts her head meaningfully. “Would you like to hold her?”
“I-” Artham looks to his brother, feeling oddly helpless.
Esben grins, nodding eagerly. “Hold her. Hold your niece and say hello.”
Artham shuts his mouth, then opens it, then nods.
There’s no need to ask for instruction on how to properly hold the newborn; Artham learned from Janner and Kalmar, and he doesn’t think he could ever forget the feel of an impossibly tiny human resting in his arms, or the immense responsibility it carries—the knowledge that you are the keeper of a helpless human being, all that stands between them and death. It’s a wonderful and terrifying feeling.
Nia carefully moves the baby, a motion so smooth that the infant doesn’t stir. In seconds, the baby has passed from her mother’s chest to her uncle’s hands. Artham doesn’t dare look away from her.
She really is small. Smaller than her brothers when they were born.
A flutter of worry erupts in the Throne Warden’s chest. “Is she healthy?”
“Healthy as can be,” Esben answers, placing a cheerful hand over Artham’s shoulder. “We thought she was small as well. But, the midwives assured us that her size isn’t dangerous, and she’s been content as a thwap in a totato patch so far.”
“But we’re keeping a close eye on her,” Nia adds. “Just in case.”
“Just in case,” Esben echoes, quieter.
Artham swallows. The baby doesn’t even stretch from his hand to his elbow. She is so, unfathomably small.
She makes an equally small noise, and Artham’s eyes go wide as a (somehow smaller) hand reaches out of the blanket, plaintively waving.
“It’s alright,” Artham soothes, voice soft like the blanket the newborn rests in. Using the hand that isn’t currently occupied, he holds out his index finger to her.
She grabs it. Like instinct.
Just like that, her noises cease, and she relaxes amidst the blanket. Artham suddenly finds that he is unable to move.
She’s beautiful. She’s perfect. She looks like the Maker painted each and every detail with the softest paintbrush and the calmest colors. She looks like tiny blue waves lapping at a sandy shore, sea-birds gliding and chirping nearby. She looks like the music notes for the most stunning piece of music.
She looks like a song.
Artham breathes out (though he isn’t sure how) and he thinks he smiles and he knows he cries, because how? How does one experience pure beauty like this, and live unmoved by it? It’s impossible, he believes. It’s impossible.
The baby opens her eyes for a brief moment, blinking and yawning. They are brilliant. If true could be a color, that would be hers.
Artham pulls the baby closer, gazing deep into her face and attempting to memorize every shape of it, and every line. Every single detail.
She’s still gripping his index finger with a gentleness he doesn’t think he could ever deserve. He wants to sob. If he did that, though, then he would probably drop her.
Instead, he dips his head forward and presses his lips to her forehead, wondering at how new the skin feels. She has not yet been weathered and beaten by storms and sun. Artham finds himself grieving the day she will lose this newness, this softness, this remarkable state of being that’s unique to newborns.
He lingers there. He doesn’t know for how long. She is so perfect.
It is in this moment that Artham Wingfeather’s heart shifts, allowing room for someone else to make a home there; a small space, filled with ocean waves and flapping birds and singing. A space for this innocent child that he holds in his arms. A space he will fight to the death for. He will die before this space becomes empty and overgrown, he decides.
“As long as I live, I won’t let anything happen to you,” Artham promises, pulling away and staring into her sleeping face. “I promise. I promise by the Maker’s good hand, young…”
He pauses, and a realization strikes him. He looks up—perhaps for the first time in a very long while—and looks to the parents’ faces, which are both glowing and wet.
“What’s her name?” He asks.
Esben looks at Nia, and Nia looks at Esben. “We don’t know yet,” He says slowly.
Nia smiles. “It will come as the Maker wills it. For now, I am content to call her mine—call her ours.”
Artham looks back to the newborn, taking her in once more; her nose, her ears, her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes, her meager supply of hair. His heart begins to warm like a fire in a hearth. “Leeli.”
The room quiets.
“What?” Nia asks softly.
“Leeli.” Artham smiles, and the fire inside his chest burns brighter. “Leeli Wingfeather. Her name.”
He swallows, looking up before looking back down. “Leeli.”
“Leeli,” Nia repeats, soft like the beginning of a song.
Esben looks from brother to wife, then back again. “Where’s that name from, Artham?”
Artham thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. It just… sounded like her.”
“Leeli,” The High King murmurs. He sounds thoughtful.
The room is quiet. Then:
“I think it’s lovely.” Nia’s voice is strong through the dimness, and Artham wonders if she has a fire in her chest as well. “Leeli, Song Maiden of Anniera.”
“Leeli Wingfeather.” Esben smiles, nodding his head and shaking water droplets to the floor. “That’s perfect.”
Artham turns back to the child in his arms, and he feels an odd respect for her, despite her unassuming size. She is the Song Maiden—something the kingdom has not had in many long years. Artham instantly knows that she will fill the land with music, and it will be the most beautiful music anyone has ever heard.
He smiles once more, watching her sleep peacefully in his arms. “Hello, Leeli Wingfeather. We’ve been waiting for you a long, long time.”
He smiles wider. “I can’t wait for you to learn to sing.”
#februfluff2024#the wingfeather saga#artham wingfeather#leeli wingfeather#leeli igiby#Nia wingfeather#esben wingfeather#my post#my stories#yayyyy I finished a fic in time for an event yayyyy
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TWS gang, please, hear me out.
So, I still got wingfeathers in the brain (I'm starting to think I may never get rid of it...) and one of my favorite fairytales has always been Beauty And The Beast.
Since exams week has been draining me, why not come up with another thing to daydream about?
I present you... The-Wingfeather-Saga-Beauty-And- The-Beast AU!
The Jewels And The Beast for short.
Or Jewels and The Cloven.
Or Jewels and The Birdman.
You'll see.... Just bear with me.
I'm debating in whetever Esben or Artham should be the "beast". In one hand, it would make sense for it to be Esben since he's all bear-like but I would also like it to be Artham since we have more information about him and what he's like. But either way, the "Beauty" is none other than our favorite jewels, Janner, Kalmar and Leeli.
Here's the idea: so, the kids still live with Podo and Nia in Glipwood. However, in the Glipwood forest, there's an abandoned castle. (Bonus points if Artham is the "beast" cause then it could be Peet's castle only bigger and creepier) Podo goes on a trip for whatever reason, and ends up being taken by the oh-so-horrible beast of Glipwood. Danny, the horse, comes back to the Igiby cottage where Nia and the kids get nerve struck when they find the horse without its rider. Nia leaves to get help to find Podo leaving the kids alone, and one thing leads to another, they decided to go to the forest by themselves to rescue their grandpa because main characters moment. There, they meet the "beast", and bargain to stay as prisioners in Podo's place. Podo obviously tries to fight, but ends up having to flee, leaving the kids as captives in the castle.
The "talking objects" are the Glipwooders, plus a few other characters from other regions. We got Oskar, who's a book, (are you surprised) and basically takes the role of Cogsworth. We also got Addie and Joe, Maraly, Sara, Thron, Rudric and others. (No, I haven't thought of what objects they would all be, sorry. You can suggest in the comments tho!) As the story goes by, it focuses mainly on the kids bonding with either beast! Esben or beast! Artham, and teaching about kindness and stuff. The "rose" would be a set of three actual jewels, that may or may not represent the kids themselves. Meanwhile Gnag, will be the one to take the role as Gaston. Unlike in TWS, Gnag will pretend to be the good guy and the whole town loves him, (like Gaston and the villagers) so when Nia and Podo announce that the kids have been captured by a beast, he will try to play the hero and claiming he will "rescue them". However, what Nia Podo and the Glipwooders don't know, is that Gnag is the one who helped to turn Esben or Artham into a beast in the first place, along with the Stone Keepers (who take the role of the Enchantress). Gnag knows that Janner, Tink and Leeli are the Jewels Of Anniera, and has only been waiting for the right moment to strike, to capture them and begin his plan on taking over Skree, the Hollows, and the lost Shining Isle, which everyone believes to only be a legend.
Anyways that's all I got for now.
Maybe I'll write a small fic or something on that in the future...
Maybe.
Thank you for reading my rambling!
#the wingfeather saga#the wingfeather saga au#janner wingfeather#kalmar wingfeather#leeli wingfeather#artham wingfeather#esben wingfeather#nia wingfeather#podo helmer#oskar reteep#sara cobbler#maraly weaver#thron o'sally#beauty and the beast#beauty and the beast au#fairy tales#disney
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I literally cannot decide how I think Nia and Esben first met I have WAY TOO MANY IDEAS and I'd love to hear thoughts from other Wingfeather Saga fans
#i read this fic once where they met as kids#and that idea kinda stuck with me!#but also the concept of young king esben meeting and falling head over heels for the girl from the green hollows?#s i r#anyways good news i'm insane about them#and esben and artham for that matter#but nia and esben? EXACTLY my kind of ship thank you very much#the suffering is neverending#the wingfeather saga#esben wingfeather#nia wingfeather
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Artham's last words to Esben being to sing the song for love, to save, vs. Janner's last words to Kalmar being to sing the song to let himself be saved, and that he loves him.
It is a Throne Warden's duty to remind his brother of the right path, and to stand between him and danger.
#wingfeather spoilers#do you ever think about this story and just cry??#cause i do that a lot#artham wingfeather#esben wingfeather#janner wingfeather#kalmar wingfeather#parallels came up behind me with a baseball bat and an evil grin#excuse me i'm just gonna#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#the wingfeather saga#wingfeather saga
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Incorrect quotes
Maraly: *Points to a dead squirrel on the road* He was a boy
Kalmar: How can you tell?
Maraly: He was stupid.
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Kalmar: *rubs his head*
Janner: What’s wrong?
Kalmar: I think I pulled a brain muscle
Janner: Brains don’t have muscles…
Kalmar: Maybe yours doesn’t
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Maraly: Whenever i’m confronted with a problem and feel alone and helpless I look at a picture of all us together.
Wingfeathers and Gammon: Awwww…
Maraly: because if I can stand you guys i can stand anyone.
Wingfeathers:
Gammon: Thats the spirit!
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Esben: Morning kids!
Janner, Kal and Artham *watching cartoons and eating ice cream out of the carton* Morning!
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Artham: *sitting in a room, screaming*
Esben, walking past: *to Nia* Whats going on?
Nia: Artham has been really stressed lately, So Arundelle and I made him panic room so he can scream without bothering the rest of us.
Esben: Can I join him?
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Leeli: and what do we do when we are sad?
Thorn: We pet a dog!
Leeli, nodding: We pet a dog.
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Kal, nearly being murdered repeatedly: I’m chill
Kal, at school: AGONY DOOM AGONY
#submission#the wingfeather saga#incorrect quotes#janner wingfeather#kalmar wingfeather#leeli wingfeather#maraly weaver#esben wingfeather#nia wingfeather#artham wingfeather#thanks for the submission!#these are great I love them xD#put some lil markers in to separate them because at first I thought it was just one unhinged conversation and I was prepared to accept that
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Esben: Love is a lie. It is only a false reality to cover up the horrors of our world. It-
Artham, slightly worried: What happened?
Esben: NiA dIdN’t KiSs Me GoOdNiGhT.
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**This post will have spoilers if you haven’t read books 2-4 of The Wingfeather Saga**
So I was thinking about Wingfeather things and I accidentally realized something really significant about Janner.
Janner has the ability to remind someone of who they are. There is something about him that reminds people to have hope and courage, to be noble and hold on, to fight for the light. I think the first time this happens is with Sara in the Fork Factory, and this one is made abundantly clear to us because Sara thinks many times about “the light he left behind”. Janner reminded Sara that there is hope, that there is life still outside of the factory walls, and that they can escape the place they’re in. And that rekindles the light and hope in Sara’s heart and she spreads it like wildfire to all the children around her.
He does it at the end of book 2 with Kalmar (and then never really stops through books 3 and 4) when he brings his brother back from being a Fang. He tells Kal stories about who he was, about their silly adventures in Glipwood, and Kalmar breaks through the fear and hate and anger that fills his little Fang mind and comes back to himself. Janner reminds Kal over and over “Your name is Kalmar Wingfeather, son of Esben, High King of Anniera”. He helps Kalmar keep his mind through the Blackwood and the Deeps of Throg. Janner’s very presence helps with this when nothing else does.
Janner does this again for Artham at the beginning of book 3, when Artham has a panic attack and the Hollowsfolk start trying to kill him. Janner doesn’t have time now like he did with Sara and Kalmar, but he still manages to remind his uncle of who he is (their protector and guardian) when he just straight up jumps out of a tree and trusts Artham will catch him. And Artham does and his mind is cleared. I think this shows us that Janner just has an intuition for this, because here he doesn’t really have time to think.
The last one is a more of a joint effort, but at the end of book 3 I think it’s significant that cloven!Esben says his name. Esben has had loads of time with Kalmar where he could have addressed his son and told him who he was. But he isn’t able to speak until he sees Janner. And at this point Esben is dying. He could have said any of his kid’s names and Janner would have known who he was, he could have said Kalmar’s, he’s spent more time with Kal at this point, but he calls out to Janner specifically. And Janner hears him and responds.
The last and biggest moment this happens in is in book 4 when they’re fighting Gnag. Janner can hear and sense Gnag’s thoughts and he can also hear the truth about who Gnag is. And he connects the two. He is the first person since Madia Wingfeather to tell Davion his name. The other kids and Oskar jump on board here pretty quick so it’s easy to miss, but Janner was the one who told Gnag, point blank “this isn’t what you want, and this is your name” and spoke that name.
So yeah, Janner has the unique ability to give a person what they need to remember who they are at any given time. He awakens something in them that they’ve lost. He’s a catalyst for memory and change, for healing. And that’s pretty amazing, I think.
#the wingfeather saga#the wfs#wfs#wingfeather saga spoilers#wfs spoilers#janner wingfeather#sara cobbler#kalmar wingfeather#artham wingfeather#esben wingfeather#gnag the nameless#random thoughts I have when I should be sleeping#I'm sick so I'm sorry if this isn't totally coherent#I just suddenly thought of this and HAD to write it up before I forgot#see I don't just talk about artham/peet aljghklafsdghafksdl
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breaking my inactive vacation to do Wingfeather incorrect quotes
this was inspired by @mozart-the-meerkitten
Esben: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed.
Nia: But you do know better.
Gnag the Nameless : The best person I know is myself
Bonifer Squoon: Don’t worry, I have a permit.
Esben: ...This just says “I can do what I want”.
Esben: *About to do something incredibly stupid*
Artham: I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.
Kalmar: I’m doing my best.
Janner: You’re not doing anything.
Kalmar: Yes, that’s what I’m best at.
Leeli: I think this might be a bad idea...
Kalmar: Don't start thinking on me now!
Thorn: I’m quick at math.
Leeli: Ok, what’s 38 times 76?
Thorn: 24.
Leeli: That wasn’t even close.
Thorn: But it was quick.
#wingfeather saga#Wingfeather saga incorrect quotes#artham wingfeather#esben wingfeather#Gnag the Nameless#nia wingfeather#leeli wingfeather#kalmar wingfeather#janner wingfeather#Bonifer Squoon#More coming later#Random#Bye
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My youngest brother, who is currently reading North! Or Be Eaten and has seen all the Wingfeather Saga episodes that are out right now, is currently theorizing that Armulyn the Bard is Esben Wingfeather
#honestly with the information he has right now it’s not a bad theory#the wingfeather saga#armulyn the bard#esben wingfeather
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Brother by Madds Buckley very vaguely fits Artham and Esben
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My oldest is absolutely convinced that Peet is Esben Wingfeather...
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What book is Artham and Esban from? (Who’s Andrew?)
👀
-vibrates with excitement at sharing this knowledge-
They are characters from The Wingfeather Saga book series, by Andrew Peterson. Some of my absolute favorite novels in the whole wide world. 10/10 recommend.
The first book is called On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness and that's pretty much the vibe you need to have to know whether or not you're interested. 😂
I really wanted to include one of the old videos of the readalong Andrew did of his series during quarantine and into the months afterward, because listening to him read the story aloud is a pure delight (but he did record audiobooks, so all is not lost!).
Yeah, so anyways. My cats are named after two brothers in the story, though not the main two brothers, though directly concerned with them as well. 😊
#thanks for the ask!#anon#the wingfeather saga#artham and esben the cats#i love the wingfeather saga so dang much#the first book made me laugh and love#the third book taught me how to cry over stories again#the footnotes are hysterical#a.p. is a great writer we stan
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It is honestly a miracle I managed to figure something out for today's Spring Fling prompt from @monthly-challenge: sports. Sports are not my thing lol HOWEVER I HAD A FUN IDEA for what was actually my first Wingfeather saga fic. Hope y'all enjoy!!
The sun was shining on the isle of Annieria. Fluffy white clouds drifted across the sky, sent on their way by the spring breeze. Far below sat the Shining Isle itself, mounted by the majestic shape of Castle Rysen, which sat on a green hill.
The grass swept down from the foot of the castle, covering the wide green that led up to the nearby road. And, running across the grass like their lives depended on it, were two boys.
They’d been there for hours already— first, playing a game of zibzy with some of the other children of the village. But when they’d had to go home, the two boys had lingered. They were, at the moment, playing a simplified version of a Green Hollows game known as “Get The Boot”, although in this situation it was a zibzy ball, not a boot. To anyone passing by, it would look strangely like the two boys were taking turns full on tackling each other and wrestling for control of the ball.
Which may have been true. But Esben wasn’t about to complain.
It was a beautiful spring day. The kind where it was a crime to stay inside for too long. He and Artham, his brother, had been so fidgety during their T.H.A.G.S lessons, that their mother, Nala, had eventually given up and sent them outside. She had told them, in no uncertain terms, not to come inside until they’d finally calmed down a little.
It had been three hours, and Esben was tired— but it was the good kind of tired, from defeating your friends at zibzy and wrestling with your brother while the sun warmed you overhead. Finally, he yanked the ball free from Artham’s grasp, rolled away, and flopped onto his back with a cry. “Ha! I win!”
Artham dropped down next to him, breathing hard and grinning. “I can still take it from you, though.”
“Nope. Game’s over and I won,” Esben told him.
“Says who?”
“Me. I’m gonna be the High King someday, remember?”
Artham scoffed good naturedly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t pummel you.”
Closing his eyes, Esben took in a deep breath, enjoying the sunlight on his face. Spring was the best time of year to him— when things were fresh and new and bright. And it led into summer, when the heat was such that their mother was forced to let them take a break from T.H.A.G.S to let them plunge into the ocean and cool off.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of what the Throne Warden is supposed to do,” he pointed out to his brother, who grinned.
“Fair enough. You win this time.”
That was Artham— always willing to make peace between the two of them, even if he’d fight anyone else to the last breath. “Good,” Esben said, sitting up. “As the winner, I declare we should take out the boat now.”
“Now? What about dinner?”
Rolling his eyes, Esben said, “What about dinner? What about being out on the sea right now? Look at the sky, Artham! It’s perfect for a sail.”
Artham shook his head, a smile curling the corner of his mouth. “Fine.” Getting to his feet with a groan, he offered Esben a hand. “I’m with you, obviously.”
Grabbing his hand, Esben let his older brother pull him to his feet. “You always are,” he said. “Let’s go!”
And with that, the Throne Warden and the future High King took off across the grass, heading down towards the sea waiting for them below.
#the wingfeather saga#esben wingfeather#artham wingfeather#springfling2024#writing stories is a kind of magic too#and that concludes my wingfeather saga fics#i am REALLY hecking proud of them not gonna lie#(i might write more another time? but who knows. i do not control the brain)
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Mr. Peterson, sir, I would pay actual money for you to finish this story. Seriously, this is killing me.
#first of all what we do get of the story is HILARIOUS#i am very familiar with the I'M older = first dibs routine#though i can't say kingship has ever been used as a counterarguement before in it#but i have to know!#how does this escalate to RACING ACROSS THE ISLAND#AND HOW DOES THAT PAN OUT#IT'S KILLING ME MR. PETERSON PLEASE#the wingfeather saga#the monster in the hollows#esben wingfeather#artham wingfeather
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OH MY GOSH THE GREEN OF RYSEN HILL (Armulyn’s song in ep. 1, in full) I WAS NOT PREPARED
waaaaaaay back in November there was an investor livestream/event where they showed the first two episodes and there was like this whole program before it and most of it wasn’t important but ANDREW SANG THIS SONG and I loved it SO MUCH that I recorded it on my phone off my crappy computer speakers so I could listen to it and not forget it AND NOW IT’S FINALLY OFFICIALLY ON YOUTUBE AHHHHHHHH
#the wingfeather saga#the wingfeather saga tv show#the green of rysen hill#this song makes me feel things#'but the king they say is fallen and his warden brother slain' GETS ME EVERY TIME#BECAUSE THAT'S ESBEN AND ARTHAM Y'ALL#*muffled screaming*#songs#music
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Jan 12 - Day #13 - Fortnight of Books
Favourite passage/quote of 2023: (here be spoilers!)
"He moved through the days in peace and wonder, for his whole story had been told for the first time, and he found that he was still loved." (North! or Be Eaten, Andrew Peterson)
“But it's weakness that the Maker turns to strength. Your fur is why you alone loved a dying cloven. You alone in all the world knew my need and ministered to my wounds." (Esben Wingfeather, as written by Andrew Peterson, in The Monster in the Hollows)
“Business!” cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!” (Jacob Marley, as written by Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol)
“This is why the Enemy wants you to think you have no song to write, no story to tell, no painting to paint. He wants to quiet you. So sing. Let the Word by which the Creator made you fill your imagination, guide your pen, lead you from note to note until a melody is strung together like a glimmering constellation in the clear sky. Love the Lord your God, and love your neighbor, too, by making worlds and works of beauty that blanket the earth like flowers. Let your homesickness keep you always from spiritual slumber. Remember that it is in the fellowship of saints, of friends and family, that your gift will grow best, and will find its best expression. And until the Kingdom comes in its fullness, bend your will to the joyful, tearful telling of its coming. Write about that. Write about that, and never stop.” (Andrew Peterson, Adorning the Dark)
“But I don't know, maybe it's just as well I never got there. I dreamed about it for so many years. I used to go to English movies just to look at the streets. I remember years ago a guy I knew told me that people going to England find exactly what they go looking for. I said I'd go looking for the England of English Literature, and he nodded and said: "It's there.” (Helene Hanff, 84 Charing Cross Road)
Book which had the overall greatest impact on you this year:
Other than the Bible (and it was a year like no other in that regard,) probably Peterson's fiction and nonfiction taken together. Which, I really didn't want to pick that, in a way, because it's "basic" for a certain segment of tumblr. But another part of me is quite beyond worries about being basic.
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