#i did this for the coronation so i thought i’d do this again
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List of attendees to the service of Thanksgiving to the late King Constantine of Greece on 27th February 2024.
🇬🇧 Queen Camilla
🇬🇧 Princess Anne
🇬🇧 Sir Tim Laurence
🇬🇧 Princess Beatrice
🇬🇧 Edoardo Mapelli Mozzi
🇬🇧 Zara Tindall
🇬🇧 Mike Tindall
🇬🇧 Lady Sarah Chatto
🇬🇧 Daniel Chatto
🇬🇧 Prince Richard, The Duke of Gloucester
🇬🇧 Birgitte, The Duchess of Gloucester
🇬🇧 Prince Edward, The Duke of Kent
🇬🇧 George, The Earl of St. Andrews
🇬🇧 Sylvana, The Countess of St. Andrews
🇬🇧 Lady Helen Taylor
🇬🇧 Prince Michael of Kent
🇬🇧 Princess Michael of Kent
🇬🇧 Princess Alexandra of Kent
🇬🇧 James Ogilvy
🇬🇧 Julia Ogilvy
🇬🇧 Marina Ogilvy
🇬🇧 George, The Marquess of Milford Haven
🇬🇧 Clare, The Marchioness of Milford Haven
🇬🇧 Penny, The Countess Mountbatten of Burma
🇬🇧 Lady Alexandra Hooper
🇬🇧 Thomas Hooper
🇬🇧 India Hicks
🇬🇧 David Flint Wood
🇬🇧 Amory Wood-Hicks
🇬🇧 Prince Andrew, The Duke of York
🇬🇧 Sarah Ferguson
🇬🇷 Queen Anne-Marie
🇬🇷 Crown Prince Pavlos
🇬🇷 Crown Princess Marie-Chantal
🇬🇷 Prince Achileas-Andreas
🇬🇷 Prince Odysseas-Kimon
🇬🇷 Prince Aristides-Stavros
🇬🇷 Princess Maria-Olympia
🇬🇷 Prince Nikolaos
🇬🇷 Princess Tatiana
🇬🇷 Prince Philippos
🇬🇷 Princess Nina
🇬🇷 Princess Theodora
🇬🇷 Matthew Kumar
🇬🇷 Princess Alexia
🇬🇷 Carlos Morales
🇬🇷 Princess Irene
🇪🇸 King Juan Carlos
🇪🇸 Queen Sofia
🇪🇸 King Felipe
🇪🇸 Queen Letizia
🇪🇸 Infanta Elena
🇪🇸 Infanta Cristina
🇪🇸 Juan Urdangarian
🇩🇰 Princess Benedikte
🇩🇰 Prince Gustav
🇩🇰 Princess Carina of Sayn-Wittgenstein-Berleburg
🇩🇰 Princess Alexandra of Sayn-Wittgenstein-Berleburg, Countess Ahlefeldt-Laurvig-Bille
🇩🇰 Count Michael Ahlefeldt-Laurvig-Bille
🇯🇴 Queen Noor of Jordan
🇯🇴 Prince Hassan
🇯🇴 Princess Sarvath of Jordan
🇧🇬 Prince Kyril of Bulgaria
🇷🇸 Crown Prince Alexander of Serbia
🇷🇸 Crown Princess Katherine of Serbia
🇩🇪 Bernhard, Margrave of Baden
🇩🇪 Stephanie, Margravine of Baden
🇩🇪 Landgrave Donatus of Hesse
🇩🇪 Hereditary Prince Ernst August of Hanover
🇩🇪 Princess Saskia of Hohenlohe-Langeburg
Other notable attendees
Nicholas Soames (Conservative politician)
Rocco Forte (British Hotelier)
Hugh Cavendish, Baron Cavendish of Furness (Former member of the House of Lords)
Grania Mary Caulfield (wife of Baron Cavendish of Furness)
John Kerry (United States Special Presidential Envoy for Climate
Lady Susan Hussey (Lady-in-Waiting)
Sir Jackie Stewart (Racecar Driver and good family friend)
Alexandra von Fürstenberg (American Socialite)
Dax Miller (Alexandra von Fürstenbergs husband)
#i did this for the coronation so i thought i’d do this again#there will be more people who attended so if i missed anyone significant plz dm me#king constantine ii thanksgiving service#british royal family#greek royal family#danish royal family#spanish royal family
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Now that the dust has settled a little bit on the arrests around the coronation, I want to talk a little bit about what this means for the future of protest and policing in England and Wales.
Firstly, I want to caveat this by saying the police have always hated protests. Getting arrested at a protest has always been a risk. Getting beaten up by the police as they try to provoke violence has always been a risk. At a recent anti-fascist counter protest I attended, two arrests were made. One of these later turned out to be “mistaken identity” (neither person was charged), but this is what we’ve always been dealing with.
However, I do think this idea of arrest for conspiracy to cause a public nuisance is dangerous. It’s essentially a thought crime. We think you might do something criminal, therefore we are going to arrest you. It has the power to significantly disrupt all sorts of actions, and we do need to be wary of it. The fact you can be arrested whilst walking to a protest, carrying a sign or a megaphone, and that this arrest *may* be legal (I hope some of those involved today try to sue for wrongful arrest, but we will see) means potentially some actions will never get started, and that is not good for the future of protest in this country.
I would never blame someone for their arrest- their arrest is the fault of the police and the police alone. That said, we know Republic were talking to cops about their plans. This did not protect them, and may have made it easier for the police to locate and arrest them. I think, on here, we all know talking to cops is a bad idea, but let’s say it again, louder for those at the back “DON’T TALK TO COPS”.
Now, the police say that the coronation is a once in a lifetime event, hence their response- blah blah- the police hate protest. If they get away with this, they will do it again, they will push things as far as they can to try and shut down protest they don’t agree with. This means we do need to be careful around OpSec etc. I also know people who don’t understand why e.g. antifa groups conceal their identity. But this is yet another good reason to do so. Black bloc, grey bloc, staying anonymous online, secure communications all of this is increasingly important- whilst also obviously trying to ensure good turn outs.
If the police are going to arrest you for walking to a protest with a megaphone, then what’s stopping us from being more violent/aggressive in our protest? I know some people are ideologically wedded to peaceful protest, but these actions are now potentially illegal too. So what’s stopping us? What is actually holding us back? If holding a sign is too much for them, if that’s on the level of smashing a window now, then what’s to stop us smashing windows?
Finally, I want to talk to the organisers of peaceful protests about police monitoring and post arrest support. In the past, many groups have felt this wasn’t needed. But now, it could be. If you’re organizing a protest of any kind, I strongly encourage you to get in touch with the Green and Black Cross for advice, and to arrange legal observers. Print out bust cards and distribute them. I’d also strongly encourage you to set up some post arrest support. It’s far better to have it, and not need it, than need it and not have it. If you’re concerned about police behaviour, you could also contact NetPol for advice.
Green and Black Cross: https://greenandblackcross.org/
NetPol: https://netpol.org/
#uk politics#coronation#protest#right to protest#fuck the police#fuck the king#not my king#pcsc bill#kill the bill#peaceful protest
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Ch. 5: Safe (finale)
main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter
summary: The culmination of the haunting of Harrenhal. Secrets are revealed.
word count: 4.3k
warnings: ANGST, grief, possession, mentions and descriptions of death, suffocation, claustrophobia, car accident resulting in death, home invasion, ghosts, spooky things, fighting, blood, spiders
note: some things are revealed, and some are left for you to rattle around with and ponder! Happy Halloween my loves! 🎃 👻
banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange! thank you again for making this for me, I've appreciated it so much!
The drive home is filled with comfortable silence. The rain has changed from a torrential downpour to a light drizzle; steam rising off the blacktop curling toward the sky like smoke. The back of the car is full of shopping bags. It was hard to choose only one doll, and Aemond was insistent that Jaehaera should have one of her choosing; thus resulting in the purchase of one of each.
It was past suppertime by the time you’d returned to the grounds, the sky turning a pale purple as the sun sank over the horizon.
The house was quiet as you entered. Aemond hurried himself upstairs to check on Helaena and you made yourself busy in the kitchen. You found some leftovers and plated them before putting on the kettle.
You turn at the sound of footsteps. Aemond’s eye is wide, and he nods as you acknowledge him.
“Everything alright?” you ask, and he nods again more forcefully.
“Yes, she’s just with Maelor now in her room,” he tells you, “Jaehaera is in the nursery. Everything’s…alright.” He says it like he can’t believe it’s true.
“Sit,” you tell him, “You should eat.”
Aemond does as he’s told, sitting in a chair and rubbing his face.
“I’m so relieved,” he admits, “I didn’t…I was a bit unsure…” Aemond sighs then, leaning back in his chair, “Well she hasn’t been keen to interact with him since….”
“Since Jaehaerys,” you finish his sentence for him.
“Yes,” he agrees, “Since Jaehaerys.”
How much do you push? You’re not even sure what this means now that you and Aemond have slept together. How much should you know? You place a plate in front of him, before sitting down at the table as well.
How much do you want to know?
“What happened to him?” you ask, nervous to broach the subject.
You’d read a bit online about what had happened, but there were little details made public. About anything to be honest. The Targaryens were quite secretive.
“Helaena….” Aemond begins, “It was terrible. A home invasion. It happened right in front of her…” Aemond sighs, “I just want her to be safe. I’ve never been more scared than on that night. I thought I’d lost them all.”
Aemond rubs a hand over his face, closing his eyes.
“He thought he was hiding,” Aemond says softly, “Like a game. Helaena told him to go hide and he did. But…” Aemond swallows before continuing, “No one could find him. Long after the police had been there. Not until.”
Nausea rolls through you, discomfort sitting like a weight in your stomach.
“Where was he?”
“He’d gotten into the attic somehow, locked himself in a chest,” Aemond says, wiping a tear escaping his eye, “The coroner said he’d most likely fallen asleep. That the lack of oxygen wasn’t…it wasn’t a painful way to go.”
You can’t help the small, pained gasp that leaves you and you rush to cover your mouth with your hand, tears welling in your eyes. Just picturing little Jaehaera, you can’t even imagine something like that happening to her.
“And it was so soon after Alys,” he admits, “I wasn’t..I wasn’t myself. I don’t think I could have survived it. If Helaena…”
“Alys….she was pregnant, wasn’t she?” you ask, speaking very slowly.
Aemond gives you a curt nod, fingers tapping the table.
“She was,” he admits, “We weren’t….it wasn’t planned. But we were happy.”
You listen to him talk, focusing on the movement of his mouth.
“Car accident,” he murmurs, answering your unspoken question.
You nod slightly as he raises his eyes to see your reaction. There is no need to press any further on the subject of Alys. You can tell he still cares for her, that the wound has not healed.
“When I brought the children here…the first time…the girl before you, Floris,” he begins, and you nod for him to continue, “That’s when Alys first showed herself. I thought if she had Jaehaera to look after, she’d be content.”
The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Moments of confusion begin to click in your mind, the realization chilling.
“She was, for a while,” Aemond tells you, deeply sighing, “I didn’t realize she’d…take over Floris until she tried...well,” He pauses a moment, wetting his lips before glancing up at you, “I’m sure you can imagine what happened.”
“Oh,” you answer, cheeks warming, “And did you..”
“No!" he answers quickly, "Seven hells I was embarrassed,” Aemond says, his own cheeks turning pink, “I had no feelings for her, nor her any for me. The poor girl was humiliated when she realized what Alys had tried to make her do. Left the following morning with little more than a resignation note scribbled on a napkin.”
“What does she want?” you ask, referring to his dead wife.
“I just think…” Aemond trails off, his eyes lost in thought, “I think she’s lonely. I think most of the spirits trapped here are.”
“And yet you mean to sell.”
“What would you have me do?” Aemond asks, resting his hand over his mouth, his elbow against the table.
You hold his gaze, unsure of how to answer.
Lights shine into the kitchen, along with the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. Someone pulled in the driveway.
“Someone’s here,” Aemond murmurs, standing.
He goes to the front door and you stay behind, cleaning up the plates.
Voices soon grow louder as you clear the table. Not quite yelling, but raising in volume. You’re able to catch just pieces of the conversation; Aemond and someone else.
“She’s owed it,” Daemon’s voice makes your blood run cold, “More than you.”
“Alys was my wife,” Aemond argues, “This is what she wanted. I’m respecting her wishes.”
“It’s rather convenient that all those documents were lost,” Daemon continues, “Harwin wanted this place to go to Rhaenyra. To the boys.”
“Then he should have made the arrangements before…”
“Yes,” Daemon says slowly, “I suppose he should have. However, it is rather curious. He returns to Harrenhal House to get his will squared away and then…” Daemon trails off.
“What are you implying?” Aemond asks cooly.
“I’m only being curious,” Daemon insists, a playful edge to his voice, “Though I’m sure you’ll get a pretty penny for this old place. Ghosts and all.”
Aemond doesn’t answer, and you hear Daemon bark out a sharp laugh.
“Come now, lēkianna (nephew), have a sense of humor.”
“I want you gone,” Aemond quips.
“Yes, well, we all want things, don’t we?” Daemon asks, the smile evident in his tone.
You take another step and a floorboard creaks causing you to wince.
“Ah. That’ll be your little friend,” Daemon muses, missing nothing, “But before I take my leave, Rhaenyra asked about Helaena.”
“She’s fine,” Aemond snaps, “I’m taking care of her.”
You back up into the kitchen at the sound of footsteps. Daemon appears not a moment later, a half smile on his face. He’s dressed in a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Aemond stands behind him in the doorway, watching closely.
“Kettle on?” Daemon asks you, violet eyes narrowed. You give him a curt nod. “Be a dear, won’t you?”
You glance at Aemond, meeting his eyes. He looks exhausted but tilts his chin giving you the silent go-ahead. Turning from Daemon you grab a mug and prepare him a cup of tea. Daemon walks around the kitchen as you do so; you can feel his presence behind you. Aemond remains in the doorway his hands curled into anxious fists at his side. You try not to let your hands tremble as you offer the cup to Daemon, turning away from the counter.
He takes it, offering a small smile in return as he sips from the steaming cup.
“She’d be better off with Rhaenyra,” Daemon says, not ready to end the previous conversation, “Not like your crowd could keep anyone safe-”
Aemond lurches forward, smashing Daemon’s cup from his hand and sending it to the floor. It shatters and pieces of the mug explode against the kitchen floor. Daemon merely smiles, as though the display was nothing more than a child’s tantrum.
“Do you deny it?” Daemon taunts, “Be angry all you want; I only speak the truth.”
“Out,” Aemond hisses.
Daemon smiles crookedly, fire in his violet eyes. They stare at each other, neither refusing to back down first. They’re quite similar, you’ve noticed. Perhaps they once got along.
“The deed to the house,” Daemon tells him, “Then I’ll go.”
“You’ll go now,” Aemond says, grabbing Daemon by the shirt, and dragging him towards the door.
“Aemond!” you yell, as they push through the front door.
Daemon laughs as he pushes him, holding his hands out in feigned surrender. You’re almost sure Daemon could stop him if he truly wanted to; the older man is built with more muscle, less lithe and lean than Aemond is. You follow close behind as they make it out the door and down the front steps.
“Stop it!”
The two men continue fighting; they tumble down into the front yard, the rain-soaked grass causing them to lose their footing. The air is misty, the rain falling gently, steadily.
It’s a blur of fists and silver hair, Daemon’s fist connects with the side of Aemond’s head and red explodes into the air like drops of rain. His ring has cut Aemond’s temple, blood trickling down the side of his face, a brilliant scarlet against porcelain flesh.
“Stop it!” you yell, but the men ignore you continuing their fighting.
Aemond grapples with Daemon, spitting at him as he manages to wriggle out of his grip. You watch as Aemond gets the upper hand, his fist connecting with Daemon’s face. There’s blood on his hands, blood on his rain-soaked shirt and he keeps punching him again, again, again.
“Aemond!” you yell, your voice raw.
His eyes snap up, looking at you standing in the rain watching him. Daemon laughs below him, a slow giggle that grows in volume.
Aemond rises off the ground, running a hand over his slicked hair and walking toward you.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry---” You wrap your arms around him, holding his lean form against you, hand pressed to the back of his head.
“It’s alright,” you tell him, “It’s alright.”
You stand there holding him as Daemon sits up, spitting a wad of blood and saliva into the ground as he stands. Rain soaks through your clothes, Aemond’s head heavy against your shoulder.
“This isn’t over,” Daemon says begrudgingly, walking over to his car, “If you won’t sign it over, she’ll put in an offer herself. And Helaena….” Daemon clicks his tongue, “Give her my regards.”
Daemon runs a hand over his hair, opening the door to his car before starting the engine. The tires crunch against the gravel as he speeds off.
“You’re freezing,” Aemond says. You’d hardly noticed you’d started shivering, your teeth rattling against each other. Aemond’s body pressed against yours, the only warmth you feel. Aemond takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. “Go upstairs, make sure Helaena is still alright?”
You force a nod, unable to stop your shaking. Your eyes are locked on his face, at the drying blood on the right side. Raindrops gather around the congealing blood, pink tears rolling down his cheek and onto his neck.
“I’ll get cleaned up,” he says softly, “Let’s go inside.”
You head up the stairs, hurrying to Helaena’s room as Aemond returns to the kitchen. You give the door a gentle knock before opening without a response from within. Perhaps she’s sleeping.
The room is dark, moonlight streaming in through the windows.
“Helaena!” you call, stepping forward but stopping yourself.
She stands on her balcony, her silver hair blowing softly behind her. The rain sprinkles into the room, pearly dew drops gathering on the hardwood floor like glass marbles. The gate of the railing is thrown wide open so that if she took a step forward she would plummet to the ground below. Your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline warming you even though you’re soaked to the bone.
“Shhh,” Helaena murmurs, pointing to the bassinet that balances on the railing. Maelor is sound asleep within it. A breeze rolls through and you shiver.
“Helaena,” you say more softly, struggling to keep your voice even.
“He’s sleeping,” she says, staring at Maelor, “Isn’t he lovely?”
You take a cautious step forward, your shoes squelching as you do so.
“It’s cold, Hel,” you say, struggling to keep your voice light and even, “Why don’t you come inside?”
She ignores you, still gazing at her sleeping son.
“He looks so much like him,” she muses, brushing some soft hair, “He sleeps better. Jaehaerys never slept this easy as a baby.” She smiles softly, the back of her fingers almost stroking his cheek, “So soft. Perfect. A little angel, don’t you think?”
You nod, unable to speak, your throat tight with fear. Helaena hums happily and Maelor softly coos in his sleep, his fists raised above his head.
“He should stay like this,” Helaena murmurs, “Just safe, happy. He doesn't have a care in the world.” Her fingers dance along his face, not quite touching him, “There’s so much pain ahead of him. So much hurt. Scraped knees, broken bones. Loss. Heartbreak.” She laughs quietly, still swaying in the wind. “I can fix that.”
Fear stabs through you like a knife between your ribs. “Hel..”
“I can,” she says, eyes meeting yours, “Right now. Spare him any of that. Isn’t that what a mother should do? Protect her baby from harm?”
You swallow.
“I don’t want him to hurt,” she says, tears streaming down her face, “That’s all.”
“I know,” you tell her, “And you can try, and you can love him and hold him, and teach him, but…you can’t control the world.”
“But I can control this,” she insists, “Right now. I can choose.”
“Helaena,” you beg, “You don’t want this, not really. You want your baby to live. You want Maelor to have a life.”
Her lip wobbles, and tears spill down her cheeks soaking the fabric of her nightgown.
“But ... .but…I don’t wish this pain. Why?” she asks, looking at you suddenly, “Why can’t it stop?”
“That’s the price we pay,” you tell her, “That’s the deal you make with the world.”
“Rotten luck,” she says, laughing bitterly, “This family is cursed. We brought him into the world with a sword hanging above his head. It’s only a matter of time before…” Helaena winces, pressing her palm against her head, “My head….” she says, voice breaking softly, “It always hurts.”
“Maybe he’ll break it,” you insist, “Generational curses don’t have to go on forever. The cycle can end.”
“I suppose,” Helaena muses, giving you a wry smile, “You have lots of hope.”
“I don’t--”
“It’s good,” she interrupts, “Aemond does too. You’re good for him. He has eyes…though I don’t think he can see.” She turns and steps inside.
You take a hesitant step forward reaching to take Maelor, steadying the bassinet as it wobbles. Helaena allows it, walking past you into the room as you scoop the sleeping babe into your arms.
“This feels familiar,” Helaena says, glancing back at the balcony. A breeze rolls through, making you shiver, but Helaena stands unmoving. “Like…it’s happened before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want a book,” Helaena muses, ignoring your question, walking toward the door, “I’d like a different story.” She leaves her bedroom door open as she turns down the hall in the direction of the library.
You steady yourself, taking a deep breath before walking to the nursery. Jaehaera isn’t in her bed when you arrive. A chill rolls through you. You place Maelor in his crib, closing the nursery door. A giggle is heard then, echoing through the hall.
“Jaehaera?” you call, walking slowly down the hall.
The giggling continues, along with the sound of running feet. Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck rises and you turn.
Alys is in front of you, her green eyes bright. Shock pours through you, fear running through your veins like ice water.
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly, “I didn’t…”
You take an unconscious step back, adrenaline spiking at the perceived threat.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she says softly, “I just thought..” She trails off, “He’s been meaning to leave for some time. I tried to make him stay…even with Helaena..” Alys shakes her head, “I thought if we could have a baby. Our baby. I just wanted him to stay, that’s all.”
Tears began to well in your eyes.
“He can’t go,” she tells you, “Not the way he wants to.”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
Alys grimaces.
“He can’t leave the way he wants,” she repeats, slowing her words.
What? “But Alys,” you tell her, “I don’t understand..please..”
“You know,” she tells you, backing up into the darkness until her glowing green eyes are all you can see—green flames in the darkness. “You’re clever. Help him see.”
Help him see.
Help him see what? But Alys has gone, evaporating into darkness.
He can’t leave the way he wants to.
You walk down the hall, turning into the library. It appears to be empty and you crane your head around the darkened corners of the room, your mind spinning.
He can’t leave the way he wants to.
“Helaena?” you call.
The way he wants to.
“Jaehaera?”
Aemond calls your name and you turn as he enters the library, his pace brisk.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand, “Grab the baby. And Jaehaera, we’re leaving.”
He pulls you forward, and you nearly lose your footing, his hand holding yours tightly.
“Now?” you ask, your tone concerned.
“We’ll stay somewhere in town,” he says, “It’ll be fine for a little while, then I’ll call my mother and figure something out with the house.” His voice borders on hysterical, “We’ve got to get them out. We’ve gotta get out now. Before something happens.”
“Before what happens?” you question. He can’t leave the way he wants. “Aemond wait, stop--”
“What?” he says pausing, “I’ll get Helaena and we’ll go. It’s you and me.” He places his hands on your cheeks. “We’ll all be alright.”
His eyes are wide and he’s breathing heavily. You place your hands on top of his.
“Something’s wrong,” you tell him, “Something’s not right, we can’t.”
“Why?” Aemond says, “We can, I promise you we can let… let's just go-”
“Aemond-”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
Your eyes snap towards the door at the sound of her voice. Helaena stands in the doorway, her hair and nightgown dry. Her eyes are softer, a small smile on her face.
“He’s so hopeful,” she says softly, as Aemond watches her, “Even now.”
A chill rolls down your spine as she walks into the room. Even the way she walks is whimsical like she’s floating rather than walking.
“Hel-” you begin, but your throat grows tight with emotion.
“Don’t,” she says softly, “It’s alright. I wasn’t sure before but…he knows. I think he’s known for some time.”
He knows I’m dead, she means.
“He just doesn’t want to believe it.”
This feels familiar, she’d said when standing on her balcony.
It all makes sense.
Dead from the beginning.
“I used to have so many dreams about this place,” she muses, looking up toward the ceiling, “So much suffering within these walls. Death lives within the foundation of this house. It is no wonder things are this way. When I came here….” she trails off, wetting her lips, “Everything was loud. So loud in my head. Louder than it had ever been before.”
“You died,” you tell her, piecing the story together, “When you…when you first came to Harrenhal.” Helaena smiles at you softly, her eyes sad.
“It was too loud,” she says softly, “I was grieving. It all was too much.”
“Aemond said it wasn’t you…..the screaming that night in the hall…but it was, wasn’t it?”
She doesn’t answer, her eyes just continue to flicker between you and her younger brother.
“Helaena,” Aemond says, speaking softly, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve…I should’ve-”
“Shhhh valonqar,” she says, stepping forward, stroking his cheek, “There was nothing you could have done.”
“I didn’t want this,” Aemond insists, “I just wanted...I just wanted you to be safe.”
“I am,” Helaena insists, “I’m safe. It’s so quiet now.” She looks up at the night sky, smiling to herself. “My head isn’t as loud.”
“How can that be?” Aemond asks.
“Alys meant well,” Helaena tells him, pursing her lips, “She only meant to keep you here.”
“Alys,” you realize aloud, “It was her?”
“Sometimes ... .she'd get in my head…meddle about,” Helaena says softly, “Sometimes….it’s easy to forget. Time isn’t really the same now. I would walk for hours, waking up so confused.” Her voice trails off before she turns to you. “You’ll look after them. All of them.”
You nod. Of course, you will.
“Helaena….” you say softly, “But how…”
“I’d always been sensitive, even in life,” she says softly, “Kepa called me his dreamer. It followed me in death as well I suppose.” She meets your eyes. “I don’t know who used me to speak with you. Someone here. Another spirit is not ready to show itself. Or perhaps they just don’t want to.” She sighs
You nod, unable to speak.
“I don’t want to leave you here,” Aemond says, “I don’t…I can’t do this without you.”
“It’s alright,” Helaena says, touching his cheek, “I’m here.” She presses a hand to his chest, and he places his on top of hers. “I’m with you. Do you remember what mother always said to us?”
“The invisible string,” Aemond whispers.
“It follows the people we love, connects us,” Helaena says softly, “Whenever you think of me, you pull on that, and no matter where I am, I’ll know. I am not gone. It’s just different now. But I’ll always be with you.” She smiles, “Avy jorrāelan.”
Aemond smiles through his tears, a soft laugh breaking through. He kisses the back of his sister’s hand.
“Avy jorrāelan,” he says softly, “So much, Helaena, so much.”
She presses her hand against his cheek.
“Kepus?” Jaehaera’s voice calls, “Miss Gevie?”
Helaena smiles softly at the sound of her daughter’s voice. Jaehaera enters the library, eyes widening at the sight. Helaena walks over to her, kneeling.
“It’s time for me to go,” she says softly.
“I don’t want you to,” Jaehara says, her voice small, “Alys said…she said we could all stay.”
“No,” Helaena says, voice soft but firm, “No, you, my sweet girl, must go.” She brushes some hair from Jaehaera’s face, tears welling in her eyes, “There is so much world for you to see. So much life for you to live.”
“But what about you?” Jaehaera asks, tears falling down her cheeks, “What about you muña?”
Helaena smiles through her tears, her voice breaking, “My journey ends here.”
“No!” Jaehaera insists, stomping her foot.
Helaena presses a hand to her heart, bringing the other to Jaehaera’s. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you inhale a ragged breath and Aemond takes your hand in his. You hadn’t realized you were crying as well until he wiped a tear from your cheek.
“I am always with you,” she says softly, “Do you hear me? Always.”
Jaehaera places her hand on top of Helaena’s nodding despite her tears. Helaena pulls her close, embracing her tightly, kissing the top of her head, and smoothing her hair. She whispers something you do not catch.
Jaehaera kisses her mother’s cheek before hurrying over to you. She hugs your legs, holding on tightly.
“Let Rhaenyra have the house,” Helaena tells Aemond, “Tell Daemon. If it is Harrenhal they truly want, give it to them. This family has seen enough fighting for a lifetime.”
Aemond lowers his head.
Helaena turns suddenly, eyes bright.
“I hear him again,” she says smiling, “He likes to hide, but I always find him.” She turns back to you all one final time, “We’ll be okay Aemond. Alys and I, we’ll look after one another. Be happy.”
Aemond stifles a sob and Helaena is gone. Jaehaera clings to you, pressing further against you and the three of you sink to the floor, holding onto one another.
A Few Weeks Later
Summerhall house is bright; the walls of the first floor are made entirely of windows that overlook the mountains and the Dornish Marches. The air is turning colder with the promise of autumn, but that hasn’t stopped Jaehaera from playing outdoors.
A soft meow makes you glance down as Morghul rubs against your calf. The black kitten meows once more before softly padding down the steps and into the grass. She appeared to Jaehaera soon after relocating to Summerhal, never straying far from her side.
A swing hangs from a large oak tree and she loves to play on it. Though now she rests below the trunk of the tree. You’ll check on her in a moment, once Maelor’s eyes flutter shut and you pass him into Aemond’s arms.
You rise from your seat on the porch and walk down the steps. The grass is warm and soft under your bare feet. The afternoon sunlight bathes the yard in warm golden light.
“Everything alright?” you ask Jaehaera who simply smiles, showing you what she’d found.
“A spider,” she says, “I’m not afraid of them anymore.”
“No?”
“Muña wouldn’t want me to be afraid.”
You smile, watching as she releases the creature against the trunk of the tree, watching as it scurries away.
“No,” you agree, placing a kiss on top of Jaehaera’s head, “I suppose she wouldn’t.”
Jaehaera returns to her swing and asks you to push her. You agree, letting her laughter wash over you. You understand Helaena more and more each day. You only want them to be happy, only want them to be safe and loved.
The world may be full of unknowns, but you and Aemond are not. Here, with you they are safe, they are loved.
This may be enough.
note: As always when I finish a series thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! For reading my work, for your lovely reblogs, and for your thoughtful comments, I cannot thank you enough for your love and support! This has been an absolute blast to write and share with you! Until next time besties, I love you all so much, and Happy Halloween! 🎃
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A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 6 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)
This is a bit longer than usual because it took me a while to find a stopping point that I felt made sense, but I'm really excited to keep writing this series, after all it's only just beginning! Thanks for your patience :)
Part 5 here
Warnings: None
Word count: 3.9k
“Mustard leaf,” The small murmur makes you look up from your desk. You hadn’t even heard the door open, but in front of you stands your man-of-little-words royal advisor. He tilts his head, his question remaining wordless, and you sigh, “Good morning Inumaki, no I am not alright, but I suppose it’s partially my fault so I have no right to complain,”
He frowns and pulls a chair up, resting his elbows on the desk, “Salmon,” He encourages you softly, “Salmon salmon,” You take that as encouragement to speak up about your woes and so you put down your pencil, “I can feel him out there,” You murmur.
“I can feel his pain clearly now, I can feel how uncomfortable he still is here, he pretends for my sake but I wish he would tell me what he wants,” Inumaki pulls a blank sheet of paper and borrows your pencil, scrawling something quickly. News of his father?
You shake your head, “Nothing so far, but the coronation is in a few days…” You trail off, rubbing the scar on your cheek, “It seems his paranoia has rubbed off on me, I haven’t slept well since this happened,” You gesture to the thin line of crudely healed skin. He taps his masked chin with the tip of the pencil before writing something else: My technique, help you sleep?
Seriously contemplating it for a second you get lost in the idea of finally getting a full night of rest but you shake your head, “As much as I’d appreciate the help, I can’t risk not being of right mind if something does happen, I need to be able to lead my people especially this close to the coronation,”
“Bonito flakes,” He grumbles, pushing the paper towards you again. You cannot lead on no sleep. “He’s right, you need sleep my lady,” Gojo’s voice rings out from the doorway, which you once again hadn’t heard open.
“What are you doing here? What happened at the training session?” You ask quickly, pushing to your feet and stepping around the desk towards him. He pushes his hood back, adjusting the blindfold over his eyes and dipping his head respectfully, “Ryomen is incredibly strong, and more than willing to learn, but occasionally I have noticed that he struggles with internal conflicts. I don’t know if this is some remnant curse placed on him by his father or if this is just his lingering discomfort,”
You look back out the window past your desk, leaning your hands on the old cherry wood as you sigh. “Your highness,” Gojo says, “I have reason to believe that Ryomen’s bloodline, on his mother’s side, was incredibly powerful. Maybe even more so than his father,” You clench your hands into fists, trying to control your breathing.
You’d brought him here, if he turned out to be a threat it would be your fault. But… he’d been so willing, so pliable. Maybe even too pliable. You’d never wanted control of him, you’d only wanted to save him from his father.
His damned father, seemingly the root cause of all of this. “Jin Itadori doesn’t have a recorded domain expansion, but Ryomen is strong enough that there is no doubt he does, maybe even one without a barrier,” This makes you look back at the blindfolded sorcerer, your blood going cold, “…What did you just say?”
It’s not as if you’d doubted it for a second, from the moment you met him you knew deep down he must’ve had a domain, whether he knew it or not. Heck, you had one and you aren’t even half as powerful as he is.
“Mustard leaves!” Inumaki exclaims towards Gojo, before grabbing your hand and making you look to him instead of getting lost in your thoughts, “Salmon, salmon,” He emphasises the positive affirmation of his linguistic range, “Tuna,” He grabs the paper again and shows it to you.
Do you trust him? You look up into his purple eyes, slowly shaking your head, “I don’t know, I don’t know, can I anymore?” You whisper, “What is his domain? What is his technique?” You ask Gojo. “We… haven’t figured that out yet, in fact he doesn’t even know that I’m here, I came here to talk to you while he spars hand-to-hand with Geto,”
Your shoulders droop again at the mention of your personal guard, “I still need to apologise to him,” You murmur. “You did nothing wrong,” Inumaki’s voice is a bit hoarse and hesitant, but there’s no chance that sentence could affect you in any way despite the soft wave of cursed energy that washes over your ears, “He should apologise,”
Gojo slaps a hand over his mouth and Inumaki apologises quickly before falling quiet again. “Sorry your highness!” Gojo blurts, before poking his tongue out, “Blegh! God I hate when you do that,” Inumaki grumbles wordlessly and folds his arms, making you smile slightly at the mishap, “Gojo will you fetch Geto for me? Tell him I need to speak with him,”
He nods, “Oh, and let Ryomen know he’s free to sleep in the castle tonight if he wishes, I know how cold the sorcerer tower can be, I’ll have the maids prepare the room across the hall,” You bite your thumbnail a little, “I… I think?” “You think?” He raises a snowy eyebrow, half turned to leave. “I…” You shake your head, “Yes, tell him that, Inumaki will you tell my maids to prepare the room opposite mine?”
Your advisor nods, writing the instruction on a separate piece of paper before the two men leave, allowing you to slump back into your chair. You pick up the pencil again and scrawl down a quick note addressed to your husband detailing first an apology, then your wish for him to become accustomed to Iqoria in his own time, and finally informing him that your decision was not made without hesitation and anxiety, but you need him to come to you when he is ready and you will no longer command him if he doesn’t wish to be commanded.
Once the letter is finished there is a knock at the door and you sign it, “Come in,” You look up at Geto who looks nervous, something you hate seeing on his face particularly because he’s been your rock for almost your entire life. A second older brother, a guardian, someone you can lean on. Now he looks like a scared dog, hackles raised, a cut on his cheek matching your own.
“You wished to see me your highness?” You screw your eyes shut for a moment, rubbing your forehead to try and rid yourself of the memories of your bloody nightgown, “Yes, please sit down,” You gesture to the chair Inumaki left behind.
He moves to sit, keeping his hands neatly folded in his lap as you look up to him. A drop of blood trails down his cheek and he scrunches his nose slightly, trying to ignore it as you quietly watch him. You reach over the desk and wipe your thumb over the cut, feeling him flinch slightly as your energy stings the wound, sealing it up neatly.
It won’t scar, not like yours has. “Suguru,” You murmur, bringing your arm back to your body, his blood drying and making the tip of your thumb slightly tacky. “Your highness,” He breathes, refusing to meet your gaze, “You have my sincerest apologies for the way I have been acting since the ball in Khoccadia,”
You hadn’t summoned him here for this, but you know he needs it so you allow him to continue.
“I… Forgive me for overstepping but you are my sister, not by blood but by soul, and… and I don’t want to lose you. The prince is powerful, more powerful than anyone I’ve ever met before, and if I can’t protect you from him if the need arises then what use am I?” You can sense his frustration, he stands and starts pacing the room, his strides long as he flexes his knuckles.
After he does a few laps of the room he takes a deep breath, “Your highness, please say something,” He whispers.
“Y/n,” You reply softly, “Suguru, it’s always just been Y/n for you,” A tear slips down his cheek through the smear of blood, leaving a clean trail, “Our societal standings would say the opposite,” You shake your head, “This isn’t the ancient times, Suguru, you grew up alongside me,” You stand up, smoothing out your skirts, “Though we quarrel now and then, I don’t want to stop being able to trust you. I want to be able to look to you if I need a shoulder,”
Though you don’t move around the desk to him, he still dips his head slightly at your words, “I accept your apology, and would like to extend my own, in the hopes that when Ryomen’s discipline training is complete you will return to your post as my personal guard, renewed and stronger than ever,”
You see his shoulders stiffen slightly and he looks back up into your eyes, searching for something within them, “You… still want me to protect you?” You nod, “Of course you will have the help you always have had from the other guards, but I need you Suguru,” You say simply, “I am to be Queen, and the Queen chooses her guard, does she not? Who better than the Captain himself?”
He nods, “Yes, she does, thank you for your kindness princess,” He whispers as if he still doesn’t believe it. You nod, satisfied with how the meeting has gone, “Now, the coronation is in three days and I expect you and your guards to be looking their best, understood Captain?”
He nods, his smile returning softly, “I will make sure of it,” “Go then, and take my blessings and well-wishes for the guards with you,” He sweeps out of the room with renewed confidence, but yours is only crushed more so. With a wave of your hand the door is pulled shut by one of the guards outside and you sit heavily back in your chair, rubbing your temples with fingers sore from writing all day.
A few rogue thoughts cross your mind and you find yourself wishing for company, but loathing the idea of conversation. You don’t know who you would call to talk anyway. Ryomen doesn’t want to be around you right now, you sent Inumaki away, Shoko would just tell you about your parents and even your maids have become closed off in the wake of your brother’s death.
Perhaps they fear that you’ll become harsher upon your ascension to the throne, but what good would that serve you? Turning your own people against you would be a foolish move, especially now.
Your mind begins to wander amongst a dark forest of thoughts and questions you’re not even sure you want the answers to. Why was Ryomen so powerful? Who was his mother? Why do you feel so drawn to him? And why can’t you shake the sickening feeling that something awful is happening beyond the city walls?
His father, of course, must be rallying his forces to march on your kingdom. This you’re sure of, you didn’t personally meet the man but you could tell just by looking at him that he doesn’t play by halves. No, there’s something else, something just beyond your sight that you can’t put your finger on.
You scribble another letter, marking it with the royal seal, before leaving the room with your head held high, both letters clutched in your hands. The first, detailing a search mission, you give to Gojo’s apprentice Yuta Okkotsu, equally strong to his teacher and loyal beyond mortal ties. The second, addressed to your husband, you ask Yuta to deliver before he leaves as you don’t know which room Ryomen will seek refuge in tonight.
~
“You didn’t think I’d just let you leave, right?” A voice pierces the darkness and a form melts from the shadows. It’s Megumi, and Choso puts himself between the Shikigami user and his brothers, “Not without a fight it seems,” The man growls, his hands clenched as he summons his energy.
Thanks to his father’s experiments Choso is no longer human, cursed with his father’s ambitions and his toxic pride he finds himself unable to die from his own technique, a form of extensive blood manipulation that hasn’t been seen for many centuries. He knows he must reveal this trump card to his brothers if he wishes for them to escape, but before he has the chance to make a move Megumi steps fully into the light, brushing a few stray hairs from his face.
“Come on, your dad will be able to sense us going, if we want to get out it has to be quick,” Choso hears Yuji sigh with relief behind him and he reluctantly lowers his guard, “You’re not here to stop us?” “Look I ran away from one awful family, I’m not about to stop you from running from another, in fact I’d much rather go with you,”
Kechizu shifts on Yuji’s back, “Is that Megumi?” He asks quietly, “Is he coming with us?” “Yes, yes he is,” Yuji murmurs, “But we have to go now,” The group makes their way under the protection of Megumi’s shadows to the stables, where they take no more than three horses and ride out into the night, Eso sharing with Choso and Kechizu still clinging to Yuji.
Megumi out the front leads with Nue high in the sky, keeping watch behind. They stay off the main roads, barely able to see Nue above through the trees but following behind Megumi’s confident form as he pushes a path through the underbrush on his black stallion.
They ride well into the morning as Nue calls out every so often, warning them of travellers or hunting parties, but none are so foolish as to stray from the path and stumble into the runaways.
“We will reach the Creyarean district by midday, I recommend we stop there to eat and then continue on, if you wish to reach Iqoria as close to the coronation as possible we cannot waste time,” Megumi informs the group as he drops back slightly, “Does your brother know you’re coming?”
Choso and Yuji exchange a glance, “He doesn’t,” Eso answers for them, “But… but he won’t send us away, will he?” He looks to Choso, “He might be mean but he loves us, right?” Choso finds he cannot reply, only nodding to the fifteen-year-old. Eso and Kechizu are so small for their age, both sharing Choso’s technique which came from a close family of lords they were related to distantly by blood, but Yuji inherited an ancient family technique from their mother’s side instead.
Ryomen had ended up with a deadly combination of Jin Itadori’s technique and something he’d never revealed to them from his mother, something that amplified his power beyond safe limits and had driven Jin Itadori to curse the castle with a powerful suppression technique. It had taken a toll on the five boys, Ryomen the least, and weakened them all so much that Choso found he couldn’t perform his duties or attend to his studies to their fullest.
Now that they were free, now that they were gone, Choso could feel the cursed energy surging through his body, could feel his connection to his brothers through their blood clear as the sun shining above. It also meant he could reach out and sense Ryomen in the mist, more shrouded than the other three because of their different lineage, but still there. Still alive.
He didn’t know if he was comforted by the knowledge, but it certainly made him feel better to be able to sense all of his brothers again. “You stay here, I’ll go and get food from the market,” Megumi breaks into Choso’s thoughts as they approach the edge of the outer Creyarean district. “You can’t go in there alone-!” Yuji exclaims, but Megumi shoots him a glare.
“You two stand out too much,” He looks between Yuji and Choso, “And we can’t leave Eso and Kechizu on their own, just stay here,” He urges his horse towards the buildings, “If you see Nue without me, ride like the wind for Iqoria and don’t look back, once you’re inside their borders you should be safe,”
None of the boys liked that answer, that meant leaving Megumi behind in an unfamiliar place with people who more than likely wanted to kill him for assisting their escape. Once the Captain is gone, Yuji looks at Choso, “We’re not leaving him behind,” He grunts, “I don’t care if you’re older, this is non-negotiable,”
“If we’re not leaving Megumi behind, then we’re sending Eso and Kechizu on without us,” Choso shoots back, standing his ground, “They’re still not strong enough to help us,” “We’re strong!” Eso complains, but Choso shoots him a look, “Kechizu cannot navigate the world unaided as of right now, and you can barely control your technique, you’re no match on a battlefield with experienced fighters, understand?”
Eso slumps down onto his butt, Kechizu shuffling until he’s sat nestled against his brother’s side, “Just… be careful,” Kechizu murmurs, looking up in Choso’s direction with his black eyes, “Please big brother,” The black haired prince clenches his fists, gritting his teeth, “I would tear apart the heavens and the earth to keep you all safe, careful comes second, that is my non-negotiable,”
~
Nothing in this world can prepare you for the overwhelming loneliness of your bed inevitably being empty tonight. Despite the fact it has been a few days since you liberated Ryomen from his cage at your side, you felt even less prepared to return to your chambers where you know the sheets will remain cold even with the fire in the fireplace set to burn until the morning.
So its at your desk you remain, the dying light of the sun at your back not serving as distraction enough to make you raise your head. You’ve been reading up on old coronation customs, reading the literary accounts of your mother’s coronation and looking through the designs you chose for the day itself.
From your dress, the flower arrangements, jewellery and most importantly the tiara which will serve as your unique ‘casual’ diadem separate from the official state crown. Your mother had a hand in designing it, you could tell from the ways in which it would inevitably complement your features such as your face shape and hair type.
After signing a few official documents regarding civilian movement and protection orders, you lean back in your chair, slipping your feet out of your comfortable heels and tucking your knees up to your chest. It can get so daunting in the endless quiet, the stone floor of the castle layered with thick carpet dampening almost every sound and making you feel isolated.
Minutes pass and you eventually curl up, the chair big enough to support you sitting sideways pretty comfortably, resting your head and taking in the details of your skirts. Maybe you could go to Geto, but would he welcome you with open arms or do you still need to regain his loyalty? Inumaki is a no, you’ll just be tempted to ask him to put you to sleep.
“My lady?” A voice beyond the door calls for you and you look up, inviting them in. It’s one of the guards stationed at the door, her face young but downturned with worry, “Do you wish for us to accompany you to your chambers?” She asks.
You stay quiet for a few moments before sighing, “I do not wish to return to the emptiness of my rooms, but if I must then I will,” She smiles softly, “Surely you do not intend to sleep in here my lady?” You smile sadly in return, “In fact that is exactly what I was intending,” After a few moments where the guard shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to say, she bows her head.
“Come, allow us to accompany you to your rooms, it will be much more comfortable despite the emptiness,” Eventually you stand, leaning down and grabbing your shoes so you don’t have to put them back on, “Lead the way then ma’am,” You gesture with an arm and the pair of them, the other a middle-aged gentleman, guide you unobstructed through the halls back to your room.
You’ve been unable to look at the bedsheets without seeing flashes of blood, feeling twinges of phantom pain in your cheek, “Will you be alright?” The female guard asks you, her hand resting on the doorknob as you stand just inside, thinking deeply. You look back to her, “Yes, I think I will be, will you send for Shoko? I want to see if she can do anything about this scar,” You gesture to your face.
With a nod, the door swings shut and you’re alone once more. This is what you dreaded, being left with only your thoughts for company, but you decide to passively fight back by quickly drawing a bath for yourself to cleanse your mind. The warmth envelops your body and you sigh, slouching down until just your head is above water. The foetal position becomes your safe space, your ankles crossed and legs hugged tightly to your chest.
It’s not long before you doze off, the weight of the day finally pushing you under as you go back over everything, making sure you didn’t forget anything important. “Your highness?” A call from your room rouses you from your drowsy state. You’re irritated for a few seconds before you remember you called for Shoko, “In here,” You grumble.
“Your guards said you wanted to see me about the scar?” She asks as she comes into the bathroom, moving until she’s sat beside the bathtub on the floor, “Is it bothering you?” You reach up to it, bringing your hand out of the water and running your fingers over where you know it lies, “Not visually, but it stings from time to time,” You explain, “Can you get rid of it?”
She nods, “It’s also probably a good idea because it cuts through one of your tattoos,” She murmurs, examining it a little closer as she leans over the tub, the ends of her hair draping into the water and getting wet. Her thumb passes over your cheek and though you feel nothing, she nods to herself, “There, now you’ll be perfect for coronation day,” She blinks drowsily, “Any news from Khoccadia?”
You shake your head, “I wish he would just do something, I hate waiting, every passing day is another day that my people are threatened by an enemy I cannot strike first,” You sigh, leaning your head back, “Will you pass me a towel?” She stands up and grabs one of the fluffy white towels on the shelf nearby, leaving it at the edge of the bath for you to grab, “Will you be needing your maids?”
You shake your head, “As much as the silence is killing my morale, I need to be alone,” You scoop some water and rub it into your face a little, “I’ll be alright, go get some sleep yourself,”
She leaves, and you spend a good few minutes crying. At least this way nobody will be able to tell when you get out of the bath, or tomorrow morning when you wake up.
Where are you when I need you the most?
Where is anyone when I need them?
~
It’s only a matter of time.
After all, we have him now.
We have everything we need to topple the thrones of man.
“This is going to be fun!”
I hope you're all enjoying it so far :) much love
Part 7
Taglist: @love-jelly @nousija
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#ryomen sukuna#jjk x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#suguru geto#satoru gojo#choso kamo#yuji itadori#geto suguru#megumi fushiguro#toge inumaki#inumaki toge#shoko ieiri#yuta okkotsu
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Ancestral 9
“So. Aconite?” asked Danny during a lull in the stream of treatments and tests. “Isn’t that wolfsbane?”
"Yes," said the doctor, looking rather nervously at Matthew.
At least, Danny thought she was looking at Matthew. His vision was still kind of blurry, a reasonable side-effect of having poison splashed into them. She could have been looking at the family in general, all of whom were squeezed into the room. Apparently, as long as they stayed out of the way of the doctors, it was best for security purposes to have them all together.
“Both the tests on what was recovered from you and what was recovered from the cup indicate that the wine was dosed with massive amounts of aconite, and your symptoms match. It’s a very, hm, traditional poison, so treatment is well known. We’re monitoring both your blood pressure and your heart rate, and you’ve been given an activated charcoal treatment and atropine.” She paused. “You seem to be recovering, although your heart rate is still much lower than we’d like. I’m actually surprised you’re still conscious…”
“That’s normal for Danny, now,” said Jack. “Well, maybe not this low, but his heartbeat is pretty slow all the time, now.”
“It isn’t in his medical records,” said the doctor.
“Had him checked back in the US. I guess it never made it here.”
“We had other concerns at the time, Jack,” said Maddie from where she was sitting in a chair next to Danny’s bed.
Oh, yeah, Danny had the impression he was missing a metric ton of significant looks.
“Well,” said Danny, “I feel… not great, but okay? Like, my skin is still pretty numb, kind of like when you get an anesthetic from the dentist.”
There were, however, significant looks that Danny wasn’t missing. Apparently, he wasn’t seeing the ghosts with his physical eyes, but with something else, because they stood out sharply from their blurry surroundings. Right now, they were looking at him like Jazz did, when he said he wasn’t hurt after a fight.
Really, he was fine. Spooked, but fine.
(In some ways, it was sort of a relief to know that he was human enough to be affected by poison. Being half dead had a tendency to make you hyper aware of your own mortality and dubious of it at the same time.)
“But, back to it being wolfsbane. Why wolfsbane? You’d have found that if that was why everyone else… I mean, they don’t think you’re a werewolf or something, do they? Is that a thing?”
Matthew sighed. “No, I’m not a werewolf.” Another sigh. “Unfortunately. I’d love to only have to worry about wolfsbane and silver”
“No, that’s not what’s going on,” said Maddie.
“So what is going on? I think I deserve to know, having been almost killed and all. Are you going to try again with the coronation? And- And has anyone found Vivian yet?” He tried to send an apologetic expression Vivian’s way, for using her as a conversation pivot.
“Doctor Hys,” said Matthew. “This discussion is about to touch on both family matters and those of state, so if you can continue your monitoring else where…?”
“Of course, your highness. May God and the ancestors bless you.” Danny saw the door, briefly, as a rectangle of slightly dimmer light, and then the doctor closed it behind herself, and the family was alone.
“The Assembly is discussing regency,” said Joanna.
“Which they really should have since the beginning,” added Eugene.
Danny wasn’t so sure of that. He wasn’t clear on all the details, but regents had fewer powers than a sitting monarch. They couldn’t change throne policies - like the one about approval of foreign businesses, Danny realized - or appoint new Secretaries - which would leave the Speaker hearing spy reports. Great-Grandma Rose had been Alfred’s King’s Secretary.
Other countries would probably have a conniption about the conflict of interest.
“It makes more sense than declaring one of us king or queen without the trials,” agreed Joanna. “They were set on it, but now they think the poisoning is a… bad omen.” There was a guilty sort of satisfaction in her tone.
Maddie scoffed. “Can you not?” she asked. “Here, with my son seriously injured, can we discuss this like rational human beings who live in this century?”
“If we were dealing with rational human beings,” said Irene, “we would. But a person willing to commit so many murders isn’t rational. Nor are… humans in general.”
“Mom,” said George.
“I want to know about Vivian as well,” said Jazz. “There has to be something about where she went.”
“The investigation there is ongoing,” said Matthew. “For the rest of Danny’s questions… To start at the beginning, you wouldn’t know this, but in the very distant past, there was a legend that members of the royal family with the favor of the spirits and the ancestors were immune to wolfsbane poisoning. So, of course, any member of the royal family who was successfully poisoned didn’t have their favor.” His blurry form made a shrugging motion. “It’s been discredited nearly that long - there were herbalists back then who were occasionally able to use belladona to counter some of the effects of aconite poisoning - but that particular method of assassination has become traditional for signaling certain grievances.”
“Did Lord Kyppe have those grievances?” asked Iris, darkly.
“He’s maintaining that he had no idea. Which, considering his position, is very nearly as bad,” said Matthew. “Even if he turns out to be innocent, the traditionalist faction will be out for his blood.”
“Ha!” exclaimed Jack. “Forget them! Maddie and I are out for his blood!”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” said Matthew, dryly. “And, then… You are right that we’d be able to tell if- if everyone else died of aconite poisoning. It decays quickly, but not that quickly.” He shook his head. “We–”
He was interrupted by a phone ringtone, a high-pitched electronic version of the Avlynyse national anthem.
“Hello?” answered Sophia tremulously. There was some shifting as she moved through the room. “Alright,” she said, voice already cracked and tearful. “I’m sitting down.” There was a beat, and then Sophia made a high, keening sound.
“Mom? What- What’s wrong?”
Another phone started to ring (still with the national anthem, but a slightly more traditional version), and Matthew swore. “What?” he snapped. “Oh, God. Are you sure it’s her? Yes. Yes. We’ll make the announcement… shortly.” Matthew took a deep breath and closed his phone with a snap. “They found Vivian’s body.”
There was quiet. Danny was sure everyone had already at least suspected that Vivian was dead. Having it confirmed was something different.
“Oh,” said Leo, weakly. “Oh. Do they… do they know how…?”
“You don’t want to–” started Matthew.
“She’s my sister.”
Matthew exhaled slowly. “She was beaten to death. They stole her Key and the Lesser Seal.” He inhaled again, loud enough to be heard. “We’re going to need to make a public statement. And–” His phone tweedled. “And the Assembly wants to have a special session to hash out a regency decision, and–” another tweedle, “and, ancestors.” More tweedles. “It’s going to be never ending. My family is dying, and–” He fell silent.
“Matthew?” asked Irene from the same general area Sophia was in. Were they hugging? Maybe? “What’s wrong?”
“Investigation just found that someone replaced the contents of Grandma’s capsule pills with nitroglycerin,” said Matthew, tersely. “Matches with her symptoms… heart stopped, but not the other signs of anaphylaxis, darn it.”
“That’s… three different causes of death, isn’t it?” asked Jazz, thinly. “Four different methods, if you count the wolfsbane. That’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” said Matthew. “It could be six, for all I– Nevermind that. We need to get back to Kyr Argyn, for the special session, and ‘figure out what the future will look like.’”
“We who?” asked George.
“Adults,” said Matthew. “Anyone eligible for regency.”
“Not me, then,” said Eugene.
“You, too,” said Matthew. “Just because some idiots in the newspapers called you a bastard a few times doesn’t mean you aren’t perfectly legitimate, legally speaking.”
“Wait, what do you mean I’m legitimate? I thought–”
“You can’t expect me to leave Danny,” interrupted Maddie. “He was just poisoned.”
“Legally, everyone currently in the country–”
“I can stay, Mads,” said Jack. “Me’n Jazz’ll hold down the fort with Danny here.”
“We really do need you to come,” said Matthew.
“Fine,” said Maddie. “Danny, I–”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine. I am fine.”
Maddie patted his hand. “We’ll have to disagree on that. Jazz, if you notice anything unusual, let your father and the doctors know right away. And– Who from security will be staying with them?”
Matthew rattled off a list of names that Danny instantly forgot.
“Right,” said Maddie. “Let them know, too. Danny, just… try to be safe.”
Well. Ouch. Danny would have everyone know that he always tried to be safe. And careful. And a lot of other things.
It took a few most of a half an hour for everyone to move out. Apparently they had to coordinate with the security team, get everything lined up beforehand, etcetera.
“I think,” said Danny, “that I’m in shock. Emotionally speaking.”
“That makes all of us,” said Jazz.
.
Jazz couldn't give him the kit until they were alone and Jack had dozed off.
"Security took me back to the house to get some of your clothes and things. You're going to have to help me, though. I don't know what's best for poisoning."
Neither did Danny, really. Surprisingly, poison, contact or otherwise, wasn't something he had to deal with all that often. Except for blood blossoms… and whatever was in Vlad’s stupid knockout gas, and those spiders that one time… did Spectra’s weird ghost mosquitoes count as poison?
Next chance they got, Team Phantom would have to look into poison remedies.
“Energy tablet for now,” said Danny. “Then, um. The little jar of eyewash.” The eyewash was a dilute solution of ectoplasm and salt, usually used for eye injuries, or the irritation that he sometimes got from his eyes deciding to be flashlights, but it could help. It’d be nice to be able to focus his eyes again.
Jazz passed over the tablets almost immediately. The eyewash, however…
Danny sniffed at the jar. “This isn’t the eyewash.” It was, in fact, the blood blossom cream. After a few additional natural portal related journeys, Danny had found that while just being near blood blossoms in ghost form was agony, touching them in human form gave him a nasty, itching rash. And hives. And… And there was a thought there, but it wouldn’t come loose.
“It’s the only jar you have,” said Jazz.
Danny frowned. “Oh,” he said. “I might have… Not brought the eyewash, I guess.”
“Why?”
“It’s liquid. You’re not supposed to bring liquids on planes.”
“We had a private charter flight.”
“I didn’t know that when I packed.” He handed the cream back to her and chewed on the energy tablet. Ecto-dejecto and weird dehydrated orange juice powder. Yum.
Not.
“I brought something else as well,” said Jazz, pulling something small and square from her purse and unfolding it.
Danny squinted. “Jazz,” he said, his whisper dripping with as much disappointment as he could squeeze in, “is that a ouija board?”
“I thought it could help with, you know.” She leaned in, and if the only witness wasn’t dead asleep, she would have definitely given them away. “With communicating with your invisible friends.”
“Can we not say things that make me sound crazy?” asked Danny. “And I know you can’t be serious. Ouija boards are trademarked by Hasbro. Nothing trademarked by Hasbro can possibly be spiritual.”
“I don’t mean like that,” said Jazz. “I mean, regardless of what it’s supposed to be used for, it’s still got the alphabet on it. If the ghosts here can’t write anything out, they can at least point and you can read what they’re saying.”
Good idea, except… “I can barely see, Jazz. Everything is little blobs of color.”
“Okay,” said Jazz, “but you can still see well enough to point where they’re pointing, right?”
“Well… yeah. I can see them pretty well, actually.”
“Great,” said Jazz. “Then, I’ll read off what you’re pointing at, okay?”
Danny looked up at Gwensyvyr, who shrugged, then nodded. “Okay, yeah.”
“Then let’s start with Vivian–”
“She’s not here.”
“What?”
“She went with Aunt Sophia and Lewis and Leo.”
“Oh. Well. That makes sense. Who’s here, then?”
“Uh,” said Danny. “A whole bunch of people. And Gwensyvyr.”
Silence.
“As in, the founder–” started Jazz.
“Of Avlynys Gwensyvyr?” they finished together.
“Yeah, that Gwensyvyr,” said Danny.
“Okay. Um. Nice to meet you…?” Jazz paused for a long moment. “This is really weird. Did you see who tried to poison Matthew?”
Danny followed Gwensyvyr’s finger.
“Hm,” said Jazz. “That’s a yes. Do you know their name?”
Gwensyvyr shifted.
“No. So. That’s too bad. Anyone else here know their name?”.
.
Matthew’s would-be poisoner, as it turned out, was a young, red-headed man with a press badge that said his name was Wallace Hadryn. Right before the ceremony, he’d had a quick interview with the Cupbearer, and dropped two pills into the cup while distracting the Cupbearer ‘masterfully’ in the words of one of the ghosts.
The pills had been red. All but invisible against the dark wine. They’d dissolved slowly, and the Cupbearer’s high-tech tests and traditional sip hadn’t affected him.
“At least,” said Jazz, “not at the time. I wonder if he might start feeling some symptoms anyway.”
Before that, none of the ghosts had been particularly paying attention to the young man, so they didn’t know who he’d talked to before, if anyone.
As for who had killed the others… The ghosts had no real idea. They’d been repelled from the area, and had only seen ‘suspicious figures’ at a distance. If that.
That was bad. It was very bad that whoever did this knew the ghosts were there and could get rid of them. Or that whoever had killed them had coincidentally stumbled on something that could banish ghosts. Even if they were weak ghosts.
Gwensyvyr had suspicions, though.
There have always been those who seek to tear power from this land and all kinds of people leave ghosts, Gwensyvyr had picked out, letter by letter. I fear this is a plan long brewed. We have been growing weaker for some time, even before your grandfather’s death. Cut off from allies. Many of my kin have only woken for this latest tragedy, and will sleep again, perhaps forever, and some sleep still. No hope for the future.
At least, that's what Danny and Jazz had eventually puzzled out. Wonderful their ancestor might be, it was clear she'd never practiced the art of spelling. In any language.
“You think the ones doing this are ghosts?” asked Danny.
Perhaps. Or they are guided by ghosts. Look to the death of your grandfather, of your grandmother. Look at those who preach progress and stability, but only think of paper gold. She bared her teeth. Look at their corporations and businesses. These worms in the Assembly. I call especially for you to look on Julius Skippa. His father brought in that vile construction business.
“But why would they do it?” asked Jazz. “Apart from the usual mundane reasons, I mean. It seems like all they’d have to do is wait.”
There are sacred things our family has long been charged with, older than this kingdom. Things that have been desecrated and not restored. Things that I may not speak of. Your grandfather was the last to attempt the trials. Vyvyan was preparing for them.
“They would have noticed something,” said Danny. “Or the trials would have fixed some of it.”
Gwensyvyr nodded and pointed at yes. I think, too, that the monsters wish to return. To take more than what they have taken already. Thus the seal. Thus the key. Would that I were stronger! I would tear them to shreds if they tried.
“But Matthew wasn’t going to do the trials,” said Jazz. “Not right away, at least, and with everything else, it would have been easy to distract him from ever taking them.”
But Mathyw denied them. On the phone, and later, in the halls of Kyr Argyn. And I am not certain sure that we face only one enemy.
A ghost phased through the wall and made gestures at Gwensyvyr, who nodded.
Keep safe, little syvyrys. The title - applied to both him and Jazz - made Danny blink, then flush. His numbness must be getting better, for him to feel that. With you here, there is hope for the future after all. Then Gwensyvyr took a step back from the board and made a closing motion with her hand.
Jazz hastily closed and put away the ouija board. Just in time. Matthew had returned.
“Jazz, Danny, how are you?”
“Fine,” said Danny.
“As well as can be expected,” said Jazz.
Matthew smiled tightly. “Jack,” he said. “Maddie wants to talk to you. Jack!” He nudged Jack’s shoulder.
“Whazzat?”
“Maddie wants to talk to you.”
“Alright, then,” said Jack. “Will you–”
“I’ll watch the kids, yes.”
“Okay! Stay safe, kids!”
“That was fast,” commented Jazz.
“It didn’t seem that way,” said Matthew. “You two didn’t realize there were monitored security cameras in here, did you?”
Danny’s heart leapt into his throat. From the way Jazz froze, he suspected hers had done the same.
It made sense that there would be, of course. In retrospect, security wouldn’t have left them alone like this otherwise, but that meant…
“How long,” asked Matthew, voice trembling with some emotion Danny couldn’t place, “have you been a syvyr?”
#danny phantom#ectoberhaunt22#ectoberhaunt 2022 day 24: past and future#ancestral fic#ectoberhaunt 2022#day 24
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Betrayal: A Choices Prompt Story
Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.
Fandom: The Royal Romance
Pairing: Riley x Drake, Riley x Liam (past)
Rating: MA
Warnings for this chapter: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, GRIEF
Word Count: 1,529
A/N: Anyone who hasn't seen the prompt and wants to play along, go here.
My other stuff: Master List.
The cool wind pushes my hair back as I walk along the familiar path, every step taking me deeper into the past. It’s been years since I’ve been here, everything is different, everything is the same.
I’m not paying attention to the present as I walk, I’m too lost in memories of the past. That’s why I don’t notice the other person walking toward me until I hear a familiar voice call my name.
I freeze. It can’t be. What are the odds? I lift my head and my eyes dart wildly around before finally landing on a face I’d recognize anywhere, even now.
“It’s you.”
“Liam?”
His face breaks out into that grin that has always taken my breath away. “Riley!”
“How? What are you doing here?” I ask in amazement. The king of Cordonia was the last person I expected to see here, in my old stomping grounds. It’s been four years since I last set eyes on him. Since the night of his coronation. The night that my life had exploded.
He’d never tried to contact me. Bastien and his guards had ensured I made it onto a plane home. I’d been devastated, destroyed. We were supposed to get married; I had truly believed he loved me.
Suddenly I’m in his arms and I’m a mess. Everything about him is the same. His scent surrounds me, his touch sends sparks through me, the sound of his voice is still the most soothing thing I’ve ever heard. I lean my head onto his chest and cry.
“It’s ok, it’s ok.” He consoles me, “I love you, Riley. I never stopped. Why didn’t you come back?”
“What?” I step back in confusion, as I wipe the tears from my face, “Drake said you’d gotten engaged to Madeleine to protect me, that it wasn’t safe for me to come back.”
“That’s true, love.” Liam wipes a tear from my check, “But after your name was cleared, after my father died, after I sent for you….”
I shake my head back and forth in denial. I don’t know what he’s talking about. This makes no sense. “I….I don’t know what you’re talking about. You never sent for me!”
Now it’s his turn to look confused, “Yes, love, I did. I sent Drake to find you and bring you back, but he said you’d moved on.”
“No….no, that can’t be true!” Panic slices through me. Drake had lied to me? Or at least withheld information. “Drake never told me that. He….he…oh, my God!”
I clutch at my stomach as I take a seat on a nearby bench, the world suddenly spinning. He had lied to me. And I knew exactly why. “We….Drake and I….we….I thought you didn’t want me anymore Liam, and it destroyed me! Drake, he…he was there, he helped me pick up the pieces, put me back together again…..I didn’t know….I didn’t know….”
Understanding washes across his features, “So that’s why he left. That’s why he never came back to visit.”
Drake had come to visit me in New York, twice. The first time was right after the coronation, to tell me to hold onto to hope, to tell me that Liam had to fake the engagement to Madeleine. The second time was about a month later, to tell me that Liam was going to try to make his marriage to Madeleine work, for Cordonia’s sake.
Drake had returned to Cordonia but stayed in almost constant contact with me. Roughly two months later he’d moved to New York. We’d started as friends; I had leaned on him heavily. It had turned into something more. A year later we’d relocated, together, to Texas.
This was my first time back in New York since. The city looked the same, but it felt completely different now.
“He lied to me, he lied to you, he betrayed us both! Liam…I’m so sorry! I never wanted anyone but you, I swear, I thought it wasn’t safe to go back, that’s why we never have!”
Liam takes the seat next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, “It’s ok, I understand now. That’s what I needed. I needed to understand. Because you were the great love of my life, Riley and I never understood why you didn’t come back. Now I do and it’s ok.”
“How is this ok, Liam? He lied to me, and I married him!”
“It’s ok because he was right. It wasn’t safe. He saw that, and I didn’t. I have to believe that’s why he did it.”
“I don’t care why he did it!” I yell, “I would have been willing to risk my life to be with you!”
There are tears in his eyes as he takes my face in his hands, “It’s better this way. Otherwise, it would have been you. Tell Drake it’s ok, I understand, and I forgive him. I’m glad it wasn’t you, Riley. I’m glad you’ll have a full life, here, with Drake. That will give me peace.”
“Liam, I don’t understand.”
“You will, my love.”
He leans forward and our lips meet. His are impossibly soft, his hands glide gently across my shoulders, they run through my hair. When the kiss breaks, he leans his forehead against mine. My eyes fall shut. He whispers, “Please be happy. I love you. You were the only happiness I ever found in this world.”
I reach for him and touch air. I open my eyes and blink. Where has he gone? He is nowhere to be seen. I know I hadn’t imagined it; he was here! I can still feel his arms around me, his scent lingers in the air around me. The wind is cold now, I shiver as I wrap my arms around myself and stand. I look around frantically but he’s nowhere in sight.
When I finally stumble into our hotel room, Drake is waiting for me, anxiety clear on his face, “Riley! Where have you been?”
I shove him. “Why did you lie to me?”
“What?” He looks confused, there’s a lot of that going around today.
“Why did you lie to me?” I ask again, “Liam sent you here to take me back to him, but you didn’t! You told me he’d moved on, you lied to me!”
He steps back and his face pales, “How do you know that?”
“Liam told me!”
“Liam told you? When?” Now he looks scared. He should be.
“Just now! I saw him, he’s here, in New York!”
Drake stares at me like he’s seen a ghost as he croaks out, “Riley, that’s not possible.”
“Why not?” I demand. Liam is a world traveler. Of course he could be in New York.
“That’s what I was waiting to tell you…I….Liam and Madeleine were on their way to a charity fashion show in Paris when….Riley…” His voice breaks, “They were attacked. They’re dead. Both of them. An hour ago, in Paris!”
I shake my head, “That’s not possible, Drake, I just saw him, he was here!”
He silently thrusts his phone at me, and I take it, uncomprehendingly. I stare down at the screen, at the headline, “King and Queen of Cordonia assassinated in Paris. Sons of the Earth claim responsibility.”
“But….I don’t understand. He was here!”
“Riley, I…”
“No.” I shake my head again, “He. Was. Here!”
Drake’s arms encircle me as my knees buckle out from under me and we slide to the ground together. I gather two handfuls of fabric in my fists as I pull on his shirt. His hand strokes my hair as I bury my face in his chest and cry.
I cry like I haven’t cried since the days and weeks immediately following the coronation. I cry like my soul has been ripped from my body. I cry until I have no more tears. I cry until I’m hoarse and can make no more sounds. I cry until utter exhaustion overtakes me and I slip into a grief induced stupor.
Drake lifts me gently from the floor and places me in the bed. He climbs in behind me and pulls my body close to his own. I let him. His presence soothes me, even though I now know the magnitude of his betrayal.
Four years. That’s four years we could have had together. Four years of life, love and happiness. But then I’d be dead too. Murdered beside him.
I loved him. I love him still. I will always love him. But I’m glad to be alive and part of me feels guilty for that.
He loved me. He never abandoned me. There is both a comfort and an agony in that knowledge.
One thing I know, to the very depths of my soul, to the very core of my being, and no one will ever convince me otherwise, is that he was here! Our love was that strong. At the moment of his death, he came to me. For closure, for understanding, for solace. He came to me. He was here.
I drift off to sleep and the knowledge consoles me. He loved me. He knows I loved him. Nothing was left unsaid. He was here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@choicesprompts
@nestledonthaveone @gkittylove99 @karahalloway @texaskitten30 @tessa-liam
@kachrisberry @fangirling12566 @belencha77 @lovingchoices14 @twinkle-320
@21-wishes @secretaryunpaid @lunaseasblog @princessleac1 @bebepac
@emersyn-in-cordonia @walkerdrakewalker @73geenalove @tornbetween2loves @sillydg
@pinklipsandmasonjars @savannahdix @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @3pawandme
@queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tinkie1973 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @jared2612 @mainstreetreader
@amandablink @harleybeaumont @xpandass420x @ladyangel70 @twinkleallnight
@dcbbw
@choicesficwriterscreations
#choicesprompts#angelasscribbles#choices fic writers creations#cfwc fics of the week#creative writing#writing prompt#trr#the royal romance#the royal romance fanfic#choices#choices stories you play#drake walker#liam rys
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Blood of Durin
A reader-insert fanfiction.
Y/N doesn’t know how she found herself in Middle Earth, how she found herself among the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, or how she let herself be captivated by the elder Durin prince—but she does know one thing.
She’s carrying his child.
Chapter Ten: Dear Theodosia
For the ultimate experience, please imagine Dís with an Irish accent.
we’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make things right for you.
–Dear Theodosia, Leslie Odom Jr. and Lin Manuel-Miranda
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird—oh Juniper, please don’t cry!” you whisper, pressing your daughter’s head to your shoulder to muffle her cries as you gently bounce her around. She doesn’t listen, wailing into your nightgown. The flickering candlelight casts an eerie, two-headed shadow onto the stone wall of the nursery. Not for the first time, your gaze sweeps the room around you, desperately looking for anything that could calm the crying baby. Middle Earth, and certainly Erebor, isn’t exactly rich in stuffed animals or baby rattles. Juniper is already wrapped in a soft blanket, her diaper is clean, and she refuses your breast. You’re at a loss, softly singing any lullaby you can think of.
“Having trouble, lass?” Dís enters from the hall behind you, closing the door quietly behind her. Her raven and silver hair is disheveled, marriage braid half unraveled.
“I’m so sorry Dís, I didn’t mean to wake anyone,” you groan.
Dís smiles tiredly, holding out her arms. “You didn’t. Let me see the little one,” she beckons. “Come now, wee berry, come to sigin’amad.” [grandmother]
You wearily shift Juniper into Dís’s arms. She keeps crying. You collapse into the rocking chair by her crib. “I don’t get it—she’s clean, she’s fed, she’s warm, she’s too old for colic… nothing helps!”
“And where’s her adad on this fine, fine evening?“
You rub your face. “Out like a light. He’s worked himself half to death preparing for the coronation tomorrow, and worried himself the other half to death.”
Dís squints at Juniper’s face, then tuts. “Ah, the poor lass. She’s cutting her teeth. Here.” She deposits Juniper back into your arms and crosses over to the window. Dís parts the curtains and swings the glass panes open, letting in a blast of freezing November air.
You clutch Juniper close with a shiver, but the older woman hardly seems fazed as she leans out into the wind. All the dwarves seem to be like that—immune to the increasingly frigid winds that swirl around the mountain as winter descends. She grunts, then retreats, slamming the window closed again. “There you are,” she says, placing a cold, wet object in your hand. It’s a small icicle wrapped in a handkerchief.
“‘Tis an old trick. Rub it on her gums, it’ll numb them right up.” She taps Juniper’s nose lightly. “If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be back to sleep before you know it.”
Juniper writhes and wails even louder as you touch the cloth to her lips. You wince when you hear a low moan from the neighboring room.
“Not like that, you’ve got to let her suckle on it. I’ll show you.” Dís takes Juniper back, doubling up the cloth around the ice and sticking it in her mouth. She whimpers, but starts suckling quietly.
“You’re a lifesaver, Dís,” you sigh, rubbing your brow in exhaustion. “I have no clue what I’m doing.”
“No one does, lass,” Dís reassures you. “Besides, there’s never been a child born of a dwarf and a daughter of Man. I’d be surprised if you knew what to do.”
“I just… I thought there’d be some sort of instinct, you know? But every time she cries it’s like I’m back at square one.” You bury your face in your hands, fighting back tears of stress and exhaustion. “I wish my mom was here. I’m too young for this.”
Your mother-in-law frowns. “Too young? What do you mean by that, my dear?”
You blink and raise your head. “Dís… did Fíli ever tell you how old I am?”
“I know better than to inquire of a woman’s age. I figured you couldn’t be any older than Kíli.”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” you sigh. “Dís. I’m still in my early twenties.”
Dís whips her head up in shock. “Mahal, you’re just a child yourself! And Fíli took you into his bed?!”
Your face pulses with heat. “It was my bed. And my idea…” you mumble. An awkward silence ensues.
After an eternity, a warm hand squeezes your shoulder. “Let me tell you a secret.”
You blink up at the dwarf.
“All those tales of parents knowing exactly what to do when their little ones are born? Poppycock,” she asserts. “You and Fíli are a team, and you’ll figure it out.”
“Thank you, Dís,” you whisper.
It’s quiet again, but a comfortable quiet. Juniper’s tiny lips smack against the cloth, and she makes contented little babbling noises as her mouth numbs.
“What was that song you were singing to your wee one earlier?” Dís asks finally.
“Mm? Oh, just an old lullaby my mom used to sing when I was a kid.” You start to hum it softly. “Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.” The memory makes you chuckle. “Sometimes she would stop, and remind me never to give jewelry to a baby, because they might choke on it.”
“Sounds like a wise woman.”
“She was. She is,” you whisper thickly. “I miss home so much, Dís. I miss my mom, my dad, my friends… They have no idea what happened to me—they probably think I’m dead!” The tears you’d held back earlier return, flowing thick and fast as you sob quietly into your hands. “My dad didn’t get to give me away, my mom wasn’t there to hold my hand when I gave birth…”
Dís watches you silently. Then, she pulls a little stool next to the chair and sits, shifting Juniper into the crook of her arm and rubbing your back with her free hand. “I won’t lie and tell you I understand exactly how you feel,” she murmurs. “I don’t think anyone can. But I know what it’s like to have to leave your home and raise a child in a strange land. Nothing I can say will make it any easier, I know that. All I can tell you is that you are just as loved by us—by Fíli, by Kíli, by Thorin, and by me—as you were loved by your family. As you are loved by your family,” she declares firmly.
You sniff and look up at Dís. Her face is tired and worn, like Thorin’s, but wise and kind, too. “Thank you, Dís. Again. I don’t what I’d do without you here to help.”
Dís smiles and bounces her granddaughter around. “She looks just like Fíli did as a babe,” she observes after a while, looking at you warmly. “She’s got your eyes, though. I’m sure she’ll be a beauty, just like her mother.”
“I hope she’s tall enough,” you murmur. “I got made fun of for being so short.”
Dís snorts. “You’ve got what, a good four, five inches over Fíli? Besides, us Durins are all of good stature. I’m sure you’ve nothing to fret about.”
“I always did fall for the tall ones,” you comment. It’s strange, in a nice way, to be one of the taller ones around—you stand even with Thorin and Dís, who tower over many of the other dwarves. Fíli and Kíli also stand almost a head higher than most.
Juniper squirms sleepily. Dís stands and gently places her back in your arms. “There’s your little sprout,” she whispers.
Your heart melts as you look at your daughter’s face. Honey-colored waves spill across her forehead. Her brow is pinched as she suckles on the melting ice, looking just like Fíli in deep thought. You trace a finger lightly down her face, following the pronounced downward curve of her nose. Her chin is a bit fuzzier than you’d expect, but to Kíli’s dismay, she’s yet to show any sign of growing a proper, little dwarf beard.
“What was Fíli like as a kid?” you ask softly, rocking your daughter as her eyelids droop.
“An absolute terror,” Dís replies with a wry smile. She’s looking at Juniper, but her eyes are far away. “I’m lucky Thorin was around to keep him from killing himself. Did he ever tell you of the time he got stuck in a tree after climbing up to escape a cross nanny goat?” Her laugh is deep and hearty.
You laugh in return. “He told me that was Kíli! Guess his brother had to learn it from somewhere.” But thinking about it, Dís’s words make you pause. “You said you were lucky Thorin was around. Was their dad…?” Dead? Absent? You trail off, not sure what you’re asking. All you know is that Thorin raised them.
Dís shakes her head. “Fíli was just barely four. I didn’t even know I was with child with Kíli when he rode off to battle with Thorin.” Her eyes cloud. A pang of guilt hits you, making her remember it. “I was so excited to tell him when he returned—another little one for the family. But as soon as I saw Thorin’s face, I knew. His body was slung over the back of Thorin’s pony. I could scarcely recognize him.”
Your throat tightens. “Fíli never told me.”
“He’d have no reason to. He was so young, he hardly remembers him. Thorin was always the one there for him. Taught him to ride, to forge a blade, to wield it. No one was surprised when he chose him for his heir.”
“But wouldn’t you be next in line for the throne?”
Water begins to drip down the front of your daughter’s nightgown. Dís bends over and and gently pries the wet cloth from Juniper’s mouth, wiping her thumb along the sleeping child’s lips. “Me? Ah, no. He offered, but I was never one for politics. Now that we’re home again, I’ve got all I need. I’m so proud of my boys.” Her eyes glow, and she lays a gentle hand on your shoulder, leaning down and tapping her forehead against yours. “And my girls.”
The door between the nursery and your chambers creaks open softly. A shirtless Fíli stumbles in, his steps and eyes still heavy with sleep, hair sticking up at odd angles. “Everything alright?” he mumbles blearily. He rubs at his eyes and holds out his hands for Juniper.
You stand and deposit the child in her father’s arms. She stirs and blinks, waving her hands at Fíli’s mustache braids.
Fíli smiles, eyes softening as he rocks her. “She looks just like Y/N,” he murmurs, ducking his head to nuzzle her. “Her lips, her eyes, her little freckles…”
Your heart swells so much you think it might burst as you watch your husband cradle his daughter. He sinks into the rocking chair, softly singing Misty Mountains. You sit down on the stool next to him, folding your nightgown underneath you as a cushion from the rough wood.
“I’m going to go back to bed,” Dís says, observing the three of you wrapped up in each other in quiet contentment. “You three get some rest before the ceremony.” She plants a kiss on each of your heads, but before she can leave, Fíli grabs her skirt.
“Amad,” he says quietly. “Thank you.”
She smiles and slips into the hallway, closing the door gently.
Juniper’s fists, clutching the yellow curls on her father’s chest, loosen as she begins to ease back into sleep.
“One day, we’ll tell you all it took to get here,” Fíli whispers hoarsely. “We’ll tell you how your mother woke up here, how brave she was, how we fell in love, how we won the mountain back so you could have a proper home.” His free arm curls around your shoulders, thick and warm.
You rest your head against him, taking up the song again. “To find our long forgotten gold,” you sing softly, reaching over to brush aside Juniper’s own golden hair. “I’ve got all the gold I want right here.”
#fanfiction#fili x reader#fili x you#fíli#reader insert#the hobbit#dís#blood of durin#ao3 fic#fluff#ao3fic
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The last year
Virgil sat up and stretched himself. Wings fluttering to shake out any creases
His thoughts drifted to his dream for a moment. An open field. Flying without a care with the most important person in the world by his side… he shook his head. No time for daydreaming.
He had to make his rounds and then tend to the prince. He got up and went through his morning routine. Halting briefly as he picked out some clothes. Usually, he didn’t care much. Going for a simple standard uniform. But the prince had been quite sullen lately. And today, of all days, Virgil wanted to give him a reason to smile. If only briefly.
His mind made up he picked out the double layered purple skirt with intricate silver patterns, the matching leaf top that was a pain to button up on his own but he managed to do so without being bothered too much by his wings. He put on the dark hood with the silver leaf clasp, black pants and his good armor boots. He carefully picked up his captain’s crown, a silver branch that went from temple to temple around the back of his head and his sword. He never ceased to feel the weight of responsibility that these symbols of his calling carried.
He rarely bothered with the crown nowadays. Feeling undeserving of the nobility it implied and lacking an audience that needed reminders of his standing which did not match his 20 years. But he was all dressed up in his ceremonial wear so he might as well go all the way.
The prince loved pretty things and he ‘d gushed about this uniform plenty in the past.
Virgil went down to check on the princes’ caretaker and to get some breakfast.
“Good morning, Patton,” he greeted. Patton looked up from his oven and grinned widely as he whipped his hands on his messy apron.
“Well, don’t you look nice today Virgil!” he exclaimed, his light blue butterfly wings fluttering in excitement as Virgil took some bread and cheese.
“I’d hug you but I wouldn’t dare ruin that fabulous outfit,” he teased.
Virgil allowed a smile but straightened his back. He was still working. He was always working since they came to this forsaken tower.
“Yes, I felt that the occasion called for it. Just one more year,” he said formally.
Patton nodded, a soft longing in his eyes. “I’m sure the princes will be happy with that. The last four years have been pretty hard on them.”
Virgil nodded. “The Duke of the dark forest seems to make do mostly. I’m more worried about his highness our future king,” he admitted. “I fear he takes harder to us being in exile with him than to his own isolation.” Not that the prince would admit to it. He could see it though. Any time anyone gave even the smallest indication of longing for home or even just the grassy field beyond the walls of their tower and the Prince seemed to bow under his guilt over their circumstances. Circumstances that weren’t his fault. It was the dragon witch, his uncle, who had made the threats and his father, the king, who chose to hide his son until his coronation. And their companionship was all by choice. They all volunteered to join the prince, including his brother.
“Well, maybe having a handsome knight like yourself bring him this special birthday pie will cheer him up!” Patton suggested as he uncovered a delicious looking pie and nudged it towards Virgil who chose to ignore the handsome knight comment. “Janus already took the duke’s pie downstairs. I believe the young prince fell asleep in the training room again,” Patton stated with an exasperated but fond sigh.
“I rather he expends his energy in that room than anywhere he can be a hazard to us. I’m sure Master Logan would agree,” he stated as he carefully picked up the pie. Patton nodded. “He and Janus have their hands full teaching those boys,” he admitted.
“Well, some things never change,” Virgil grinned before nodding at Patton in goodbye and making his way up. He could hear the sound of Prince Remus going on about something to Janus downstairs. He didn’t understand what, but the Duke’s voice was unmistakable.
He passed Master Logan’s study. Logan had been the one to take him in as a young troubled kid and given him the education and opportunities he needed to make it where he was today. Patton was nice and kind. But if Virgil had to point at anyone he felt closest to in this tower, it would be Logan.
Not counting the prince, his future king, but that was unfair.
Virgil had been dedicated to his protection and wellbeing since he was twelve. And they’d been as close as a commoner or a guard could hope to be with the heir to the fairy throne.
His loyalty and devotion were unwavering. And he felt like the prince cared for and appreciated him. People gossiped and teased about it. But Virgil didn’t care. And neither did the prince.
“Your highness?” Virgil asked as he knocked on the door carefully.
“Come in,” the prince’s voice called.
Virgil walked in and found his prince sitting on the windowsill looking out over their surroundings. He was wearing a white dress with golden edges, around his waist a red band that had a long red cape attached to the back, standing it would likely end at his ankles. His big, elegant red wings, befitting his status, fluttering slowly in longing for the sky he was looking at.
He wasn’t wearing his golden flower crown, which was an indication to his saddened mood. It broke Virgil’s heart. He was aware that after today, he’d known the prince longer in captivity than he’d known him when he was happy and free.
Virgil straightened his back and spread his wings, he had to put on a strong front, for the Prince’s sake here. No drooping wings, no wavering posture.
Virgil’s wings weren’t as elegant as those of the prince and the duke's, or pretty like Patton’s nor where they practical and modest like Janus’ or Logan’s.
On the streets of the capitol he’d gotten in a lot of trouble for wings shaped like those of a dragon. But at the court, it was a something for which he was to be respected. Still, Virgil had trouble to unlearn the bad things he’d been taught about it. The prince’s uncle was born with the same wing type. But he’d gone down a dark path, leading to his nickname. But at the court no one judged Virgil for the actions of a man he’d never met.
Wingtypes weren’t genetically. They revealed something about your inner self. Or so people believed. Their color their shape. It all supposedly played a part. Anyway, none of that was important right now.
“Patton asked me to bring you something to eat,” he said as he walked to the small table in the room and put down the pie. The prince sighed and finally looked towards Virgil and his eyes widened.
“Virgil… You look stunning,” he said.
Virgil fought down a blush. The prince never bothered with formalities, not when they were kids and by the time he turned sixteen and people started to tell him that he couldn’t be so casual with staff members, his life was threatened and he was sent away for five years where no one could tell him what to do for appearances sake.
“Thank you milord,” Virgil said calmly. “I figured today’s occasion deserved me putting in a little effort. Happy birthday,” he bid.
“Thank you Virgil… Can I make one request for my birthday though? Please?”
Virgil knew he would have a hard time denying his prince anything, but the prince didn’t need, couldn’t be allowed, to know that.
“If it is within my power,” he allowed.
The prince smiled, excitement springing to life in his eyes once again. “It is! Just… Call me by my name? Just for today?” he pleaded.
Virgil felt almost angry. This was not right. Such a humble request could not be the one gift the prince asked of him. It just didn’t make sense! But he didn’t say any of that aloud.
“Well… I suppose that can be arranged… Roman,” he allowed. It felt odd to say his name aloud. He hadn't ever done that, not even when they were kids and he helped him evade tutors.
The prince, Roman, beamed happily. “One more thing?” he asked, looking like he felt he was testing his luck. Virgil nodded, indicating he could continue.
“This pie is too big for me… Have breakfast with me?” he asked hopefully.
Roman always tried to get them in a more casual setting. Virgil almost continuously ept Roman company so long as he didn’t need to make his rounds, which weren’t that extensive in a tower built to house six people and little more that he could not leave.
Normally he insisted on some form of formality but… It was his birthday. And Roman was denied so much already. He could grant him whatever he desired today if it was in his power to give it.
“Alright. But only because Patton’s cooking is irresistible,” he allowed in a slightly teasing tone.
Roman lit up and as they ate, he rambled about all kinds of things and Virgil listened and engaged in the conversation until…
“And then Logan said the floating lights are coming back tonight! Can you believe it? On our birthday! That has to be a good sign!”
Virgil pondered that, though Roman didn’t realize it. He was still rambling on.
The floating lights had worried them the first time they appeared.
But Logan and Janus concluded that they weren’t dangerous. They were a natural part of the magic in this valley. Logan had figured out what caused them to appear, though Virgil never quite understood it.
Roman adored the lights. The first time he’d seen them he’d talked at length about how amazing it would be to fly amongst them.
Virgil didn’t do bad ideas… But now he was entertaining one of his own…
“I need you to talk me out of something,” he pleaded.
Janus looked up from their books in surprise. Virgil had found them in their study during his round of the tower. Roman was in a much better mood when Virgil left his room, though he was clearly still not back to his old self. He hadn’t been for years.
“Whatever do you mean? Isn’t it usually your job to do that?” Janus asked intrigued.
“I know, so please return the favor. Be as petty as you need to. But I need you to tell me not to have a midnight birthday picnic with everyone to watch the floating lights and to let us all stretch our wings,” he rambled.
Janus smirked. “It would make our future king ecstatic though,” they mused.
“That’s not how you are supposed to do it! You are supposed to remind me that there is a threat against his life. That leaving the tower is strictly forbidden by the king. That it is my job to keep us all in. That a taste of freedom might make tomorrow harder on him…”
“You are doing a good job yourself,” Janus pointed out.
“Then why do I still want to tell Patton to get a basket ready?” Virgil demanded.
“Because…” Janus stated slowly, their eyes mischievous but not unkind. “The heir is in your charge. You’d do anything for his safety, it’s your calling. But protecting him is about more than physical wellbeing. You see him wither away and you want to protect him from that too. You want to make him shine again.
It’ll be dark and the lights will likely obscure our presence rather than reveal it. I can go into the details but basically, they outshine us and as long as we don’t fly out above them anyone flying by will likely notice the tower before they notice us.
Tonight might be the safest time to take a little risk,” Janus said.
Virgil groaned. “I knew I shouldn’t have counted on you,” he grumbled as he turned to leave.
“Now where are you going?” Janus smiled smugly, knowing full well that Virgil wasn’t going to admit that the sorcerer had told him exactly what he’d been wanting to hear.
“To get a dumb picnic ready!” Virgil growled before slamming the door.
Virgil knocked on the door to Roman’s room. Patton was getting everything ready. Everyone was alerted of the plan. Except for the one he was doing this for.
That came now.
The door swung open, Roman was now wearing his crown.
Virgil wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that simply having breakfast with him and acting more like equals had put him in that much of a better mood.
The fatigue and sadness hadn’t completely left his face. Hopefully this news would do the trick.
“Virgil you’re back!” he grinned.
“I was literally down the hall and I was gone for maybe half an hour,” he pointed out.
Roman chuckled. “Yes, but between having you call me by my name and suckering you into having breakfast with me, I wasn’t sure if you’d had your fill of my company for the day,” he joked. At least, Virgil hoped he was joking.
“I wouldn’t do that to you on your birthday. Speaking of which…” he took a deep breath.
“We’ll be having a midnight picnic to watch the lights. So you might want to take a nap so you can be well rested for our outing,” he said formally.
Roman clapped his hands and jumped several fairy feet in the air, making a spin and giggling.
“Oh wonderful yes! Oh! I’ll make some space on the floor then! I have some nice blankets we can use and…”
“Not in here Roman”, Virgil said, anticipating the moment Roman would realize what he meant.
Roman lowered himself to the ground.
“But… My room has the best view and enough room. Remus’ might have a good view too, but it is a mess.”
“Not in here,” Virgil repeated.
Roman’s frown persisted for a bit moment and then slowly it started to give way to incredulous awe.
“You… You can’t mean…”
“There are conditions,” Virgil warned. “We can’t fly too high and the moment I think someone might be coming we head inside right away. We can’t be too loud either. Understood?”
Roman gasped teary eyed holding his hands in front of his face and nodded.
“Yes, yes, I promise Virgil!” he said earnestly.
Virgil nodded. “Good, in that case. We still have a few hours before sunset. You think you can try to focus on your swordplay practice?” Virgil asked.
Roman nodded again and followed him to the training room.
Hours later, the sun had set and Virgil was standing in front of the door to the outside. The door only he could open. The one he was supposed to keep closed until it was time to get Roman to his coronation and no moment sooner.
But if he didn’t do this now, then Roman would lose his light by the time he was sat on the throne.
He took a deep breath and broke the seal he’d put in on the order of the king four years ago.
It gave way almost too easy. But Virgil knew that no one but him would be able to do this.
The door opened and Virgil was knocked to the side into Logan and Patton.
Duke Remus had rushed outside and was doing laps already.
“Well that is a complete surprise,” Janus drawled bemused as they walked after the duke their staff in hand.
“Oh goodness. This is so exciting!” Patton giggled as he walked on with Logan, his favorite dress flowing in the late-night breeze.
Virgil sighed. No turning back. He looked back and found Roman looking at the outside world with wide eyes, a little hesitant.
“Roman?” he asked confused. He’d imagined the young prince would’ve been right behind his brother.
Roman smiled apologetically. “It seems I’m more nervous about going out there than I thought I’d be,” he admitted quietly.
Virgil nodded, he could understand that. “I’ll be right at your side the whole time. No one is getting past me,” he promised. If it went wrong today, he would give the others the ability to get to the tower. Logan had a received a master key. He could lock the door again and keep it that way until after the deadline. He didn’t tell Roman this though. He would object.
Roman nodded. “Yeah… Yeah you are right,” he smiled and walked outside alongside Virgil.
The second Roman’s feet hit the grass he froze. He lifted his head closed his eyes and took in the feeling of grass tickling the edges of his feet. Virgil had insisted the princes at least wore sandals.
Virgil watched as a smile slowly spread across Roman’s face. His wings spread out and slowly he lifted from the ground. Just when Virgil contemplated following him up, Roman gave a few powerful beats of his wings and rose fast.
In a panic Virgil chased after him. He couldn’t lose sight of him.
The wind was rushing across his skin, welcoming him like an old friend, but he had no time to greet him in return.
Suddenly Roman came to a stop and without warning he made a dive, laughing in ecstasy.
Virgil dove after him, recalling the pull of gravity and effortlessly bending his wings to adjust his fall.
Both came to a halt near the ground, a stone’s throw away from where Patton and Logan were setting up the picnic.
“That was amazing! I’d forgotten how good that feels!” Roman exclaimed in a whisper shout.
Virgil appreciated his effort to adhere to the rules he’d made.
“Glad you like your present,” he smiled, his annoyance at the scare already forgotten.
Roman turned and nodded eagerly. He was about to say something, but master Logan interrupted.
“It is time,” he announced.
Remus skidded to a stop nearby and Janus apparrated in their cluster. And a moment later it was like small orbs of light grew from the earth and floated up.
The group gasped in collective awe.
“Virgil… Can we?” Roman asked after a few minutes.
Virgil nodded. The lights would stay all night. They could have a quick fly around the field before eating.
Roman grinned. “Race ya!” he exclaimed as he took of. Virgil chuckled. Definitely worth it.
“Virgil look!” Roman exclaimed suddenly. Virgil followed his gaze and saw a light seemed stuck in the branches of a nearby tree. Which came as a surprise. Getting stuck implied being solid. And Virgil was fairly sure even Logan didn’t think the lights had a body to get stuck with.
It was very high up for any creature. Especially one the size of a toadstool. And Roman had never gone so high. But Virgil had.
Virgil nodded. “I see it, stay here,” he instructed as he flew up. The closer he got the clearer it was that the light was struggling to get away.
“Calm down okay? I'm here,” he assured the light before pushing the branches to the side to allow the light some space to move. When it got loose if spun around him and, amazingly, shifted hues. Going through the whole rainbow before settling on Virgil's purple.
“Cool,” Virgil whispered. He turned to look at Roman and see if he was just as blown away by this as him. But then he saw Roman… talking? To a red light.
Not feeling comfortable with being left out of that conversation, Virgil let himself freefall as far as he could and landed by Roman's side.
To his relief, Roman was beaming.
“Virgil! Meet her majesty, queen of the wishing lights! She thanks you for saving one of her young charges.”
Virgil blinked. Tonight just got way more complicated than he'd planned for.
“ uh… welcome?” he said hesitantly.
The queen light did the rainbow thing before settling on purple too.
“Greetings knight Virgil. I look forward to knowing you,” she spoke seemingly in his head.
Before he could recover from that, a bunch of other lights swarmed him, Roman and the others who'd come to join them. No words in this time. Just burning curiosity.
“Oh boy,” Virgil sighed.
#sanders sides#ts sides#roman sanders#virgil sanders#logan sanders#janus sanders#remus sanders#prinxiety#ask blog#ask the fairies#fairytower
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ALLURING — WRITING PROMPTS
HOW TO PLAY
all you have to do is rb and let your followers send a number / quote in! you’re more than welcome to select a prompt yourself, if you’d like.
can be used for any fandom / setting and romantic / platonic / familial relationships !
this is selfship-based, but you can use this for canon x reader content / games !
rules and limitations can be added at your convenience !
reblog karma is appreciated but optional !
WORD PROMPTS
picnic
stargazing
shopping
rings
dream
height difference
heartbeats
routine
beach
cuddles
movie
dessert
pet / companion
danger
risk
justice
protectiveness
retribution
avenge
journey / travel
wedding / engagement
snowflakes
leaves
flowers / crowns
coronation
destiny
fate
slow-dancing
knight
fruit
music
paint
photography
flight
candlelight
moonlight / sunlight
security
meals
fur
teeth / claws
nightmare
monster
folklore / legend / mythology
sore
territory
teach
train
overwork
car / motorcycle
denial
desperation
adoration
sword / shield
betrayal
secret
QUOTE PROMPTS
“i told you, didn’t i? i’m not going anywhere.”
“my eyes are up here.” “yeah, i know.”
“for you and you alone, i’d lay down my life.”
“i never thought i’d see you again.”
“you’re here…you’re really here.”
“my eyes are only on you, sweetheart.”
“scared? of you? never.”
“i didn’t think i’d ever fall in love again. not until i met you.”
“this world isn’t meant for people like us.” “then let’s build one that is.”
“i’m never letting you go again.”
“i’d do anything to see your smile again.”
“it won’t heal if you don’t kiss it better. c’mon, baby, just one?”
“god, you have such a nice ass.” “huh?” “i said you have a nice ass.”
“isn’t it beautiful?” “yeah, you are.”
“i nearly forgot how tiny mortals are.” “i am [height], thank you very much!”
“thanks.” “for you, anything.”
“who did this to you?”
"i'll knock your teeth in." "that's so hot."
“i’ll give you the world. all you need to do is ask for it.”
"i just want to be enough." "you're already enough."
"welcome home, my love."
"even after all of these many years, i'd never forget you."
"how about it? you, me, a couple of drinks. my treat."
"i have two hands for a reason. one for both of you to hold."
"oh my god, this is so cheesy." "but you love it."
"hey, it's okay. you're big sister/brother/sibling is here. i'll keep you safe."
"you promise?" "i swear."
"quit picking on them! that's my job."
"i'm telling mom!" "NO!"
"that isn't what i think it is, is it?" *proceeds to show the most embarrassing baby photos imaginable*
"you deserved better than that. they failed you. we failed you."
"no one will hurt you again, i'll make sure of it."
"sure, you may be a little different, but that's not a bad thing. it just makes you even more amazing than you already are."
© AZXREMOON — do not edit, translate, or repost my work on any platform.
#[ — writing prompts ]#writing prompts#anime writing prompts#selfshipping prompts#selfship prompts#f/o prompts#s/i prompts#selfshipping#ask game#selfship ask game#selfship writing#f/o x s/i#platonic selfship#romantic selfship#familial selfship#platonic#romantic#familial
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hhhhhhshdh these OPTIONS ur. so good to ur readers. 2 &/or 4?!?!?! 👀👀👀
going w/ no. 2 b/c there's nothing substantial for no. 4 😅 way back when i was thinking abt doing a mailee companion piece for like the sun! obvi like the sun is not finished so this companion is on the back back back burner but. i go back and reread what little i have of it sometimes lol
have a lil excerpt :) of ty lee walking mai home from the palace on the night of zuko's coronation. ya know. just #galpal things
—————
“So,” Ty Lee says, in her nothing-but-business-and-the-business-is-gossip tone. “Your boyfriend is the Fire Lord now, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s pretty wow, isn’t it?”
“I guess.”
“You guess? Mai, he’s just become the most attractive unmarried man in the entire nation, and you’re the one dating him.”
An entire nation of eyes on Zuko—eyes that will also be on her, by nature of her being at his side. “He’s still just Zuko,” she says.
Ty Lee huffs. “Sometimes, I just don’t know how the romance stays alive between you two.”
Mai could say something here, about how when they’re alone, she knows where to touch him and how to kiss him to make his body go pliant and to make his hands more daring as they rove over her body, but she doesn’t talk about these things with Ty Lee. She doesn’t talk about them with anyone, really, and it’s probably for the better. Her etiquette aunts have had plenty to say about girls who let boys touch them too much before marriage, and her father and mother have only ever agreed with them.
“He writes me poetry and I sing him songs,” Mai drawls.
Ty Lee laughs—her real laugh, the one with little snorts that she usually holds back when anyone else is around. “You’d sing the saddest songs,” she says, “and he’s write about flutter bats and turtle ducks.”
“I should go into the opera.”
“I’d love to see you in a bright pink costume. Oooh, and wearing lipstick! And rouge!”
“Over my dead body.”
They reach Mai’s home and slip along the side of the house to the back garden. There, among the dying peonies and budding camellias, Ty Lee pulls Mai into a tight hug, their cheeks pressing together. Her waist feels impossibly little in Mai’s arms, and it’s no wonder Ty Lee can look like she’s walking on air when she wants to.
“When do you leave?” Mai asks.
“Tomorrow morning.”
Mai knows that just because the war is over and Zuko is Fire Lord, that doesn’t mean the Kyoshi Warriors would have nothing real to do and Ty Lee could just stay here, with her, and they could walk home from the palace together every night. Knowing this doesn’t keep her chest from pinching, though.
She squeezes Ty Lee one more time before letting go. Ty Lee’s smiling, reassurance warming her gray eyes. “I’m going to write so many letters to you,” she says.
“Will you?”
Ty Lee takes Mai’s hand in both of hers. “Yes! So many. You won’t even know what to do with all of them.”
Her thumbs brush the back of Mai’s hand, and Mai suddenly remembers the last time she did this. In a prison her uncle had deemed nice enough for his treasonous niece, Mai was lying on the prison cell floor, her head in her friend’s lap, a self-indulgent sadness trickling past her lips: When you left for the circus, I thought I’d lost you forever.
And Ty Lee, stroking her hand, answering: I’ll never let you feel like that again.
—————
creativity tag on! choose a wip and i’ll share a concept or excerpt
#tag game#sry babes there rly isnt much new boo content atm :( ik u love it#in the same way that every version of z i write has azn glow and brown nips#every version of ty lee i write has been deeply whipped for mai since childhood#(but takes foreeeeever to admit it to mai)#(mai knows for many years before ty lee says anything)#(ty lee knows she's kinda being obvious)#(they don't communicate abt it lolololol)#atla#like the sun inside of you
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rereading my old fic, I can't believe past me did future me this dirty...
“Have you seen my husband?” Lady Jane Rochford asks.
“I have. He is having a bad day, I fear. Have you not--”
“He won’t see me.”
“I think you should insist. He does not have long.”
Her face is unchanged, her clever, black eyes are clear and dry. “I would only torment him.”
“I tormented him, though I did not set out to do so. You will seem a relief.”
“You are trying to be kind, I’m sure,” she says with a mock sweetness in her voice.
“Once Alice More said to me, that when you’ve...been married to a man, you can’t help but worry about him. Wonder if he’s cold.”
“You know all about this. How to behave before an execution. You should write a pamphlet. It will be of use to many of your former friends.”
“Her point was, no matter what a marriage entails for a wife -- and it can be no little horror-- it is still a marriage.”
Lady Rochford lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Who do you think wrote your note, if it wasn’t me?”
“It hardly matters now.”
“Why did you keep it?”
“I’m not sure. Habit, I suppose. I have only two letters, all that remains of my once voluminous correspondence.”
“Habit is a powerful thing. It is why I am here with her,” she says, nodding in the direction of Anne’s rooms.
“Do you think she’s truly mad?”
“It hardly matters now, but yes.”
“How long?”
“Oh I don’t know. After Henry’s death she made a great show of grief, lost the child as well. We all expected something. We crept around, holding our breath. Even George tread carefully. But she carried on and we thought she was recovering. It was small things at first. She talked about her sister Mary as if she was in France, living with Francis. I suppose that’s where I got it in my head that Mary was in France.”
“She was living in the past?”
“In a way. It was difficult to know when she was and when she wasn’t. Weeks would go by when she was perfectly fine. Then some small thing: she would complain about you as if you were merely late for an appointment. She even brought up Wolsey once as if he were alive.”
“Why in heaven’s name did she leave London?”
“You ask that as if you wanted her to stay! You know very well why. She could not let the Bastard Mary parade around in her mother's armor, showing her up.”
“George should not have allowed it.”
“As if George could control her. The surest way to get her to do anything was to have George forbid it. Or her father.”
“Where will you go ...afterward?”
“My father’s house in Norfolk. A widowed daughter, past her prime, with no money. I will be buried alive.”
“You are five years younger than my wife. I’d hardly say past your prime.”
She smiles, shaking her head. “It’s too bad there are not Master Cromwells enough for us all. To rescue all the young-ish widows in England.”
He blushes. “The new queen will need ladies.”
“I should go to her as a spy, perhaps? Tell her all I know of the Boleyn family secrets?”
“You needn’t do that. And you will be a feather in her cap.”
“It would mean living with Jane Seymour again,” she sighs. “Those Seymour brothers are at the heart of this whole rebellion.”
“It’s only a rebellion if you lose.”
“I think I’d rather be buried alive in Norfolk.”
Lady Kingston pokes her head out of the door. “Lady Jane, she is asking for you.”
“Duty calls,” Jane says, rolling her eyes. “I imagine this was the bittersweet ending of so many of your little chats with Mary.”
"Yes," he says and a small laugh escapes before he can stop it. He should walk away. Not get involved any further, but she was once his ally on a hot day in the upper rooms of Westminster Abbey before Anne Boleyn’s actual coronation.
“Lady Kingston,” he says, “please ask your husband to arrange for Lady Rochford to visit his prisoner.” Jane shoots him a look of pure hatred. He turns away, leaving the Tower by the back stairs, scrupulously avoiding the ghost of Thomas More.
+++
#WHY THO#this would have been the greatest fucking scene#should I write it now? an au of my au?#Buried Empire
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Out of nonentity, love, and me, and airy goal, haply
A ballad sequence
Queen: the wit thee in disdaine reason,
thought. Out of nonentity,
love, and me, and airy
goal, haply some holy
spheres the Tartars, and when some snow
on pathless, they came cloath’d
he fled; thou will silent my gain,
reach that dare not only
brand; for life from a furnace, vapours
dim and eyes the country
of mine, and so wild inhabiters
of morning, sir,
to the guilty goddess of music,
our modern quill
immortal curtain’d to its own; silent
when province or harrow
continent, and nothing to
speak. Which thou art goner?
So, the door, lay on that senses,
orphane place, embroideries
of life melts with suspect sile
doth commended in
the first should I exist in trouble,
I feel the dusk places,
who nobly spur she with ocean,
he wild clock for man
nor wasted: fair eye along; other
pulses hard furrow?
Nay, more am I? Despair was
plaint, nor dost things where were
engraved invited to be-that
lamp and shape, and bugle-
blooms. Lay off Ismail, anchor’d at
high remember’d lamps
together, hung about his eye, like
a score; then his forgot
all is dear by servantes; by
Swift as a good and wakes
the cattle strewn—so have single
elm-tree to-night of sighs.
Or butcher-sire than thou but of thy scarf hadst
be thrush’s song. An old and most divide
what are they threat, she’s the Unapparent. Wise she
clenched the green, or in thy lips again.
And as the thrice-seen love you this?
Tell me what is movement
saints’-bell pinch to your soft kiss thousand
for shone like raging
how we threw himself with the mowers,
beside that dream not
see it from each may be constantly
as ever prow not
the Prince I exscribe you worse than
doth she finds messages,
where beauty; and turn there is an
actual Turks were no sinners.
Stays blank amaze: the lily’s
white arm, and wishing morn,
rose-cheek’d Adonis smiles, thou to
the web that gentle you
full of feeling yields the heart thou
call thee so fair, yet when
an infant’s wander in the two
women; there, you know: here
were red like lawn being mane upon
his friend! A bed, he
saw not whether the wandering
Incarnations find a
resting, dark; till his large, I cry,
she looked through thy Beauty
makes each should peep; the old snow takes
the Wytham flats, red well;
only to punishes spread, a
happy dwells in their
magical chant thought thy left? And that,
young Spring with it did
flings, commun’d with wedge sublime, came
whereon immediately
mountaine! But in her loof he
would be cause Adonais
has bees find; in which it be, ’tis
almost evident; for
an autumnal straight limbs, and that
work advancing, sir, finding
me too that winds or fountains,
and stream. By merely smile;
the green, and many more, there miss’d,
so meek, no ass so
obstinate silence a queens may say,
all I see your mind make
thyself rejected to ease me
like to await, according
to her I’d not to get
my hand, a fop
therefore hath now and dim, these wondered
at a’? Her know, or
very part blush’d by his necessary,
may live no end:
he wild birds such like that since I
drew near; till doth grief may
be consonants make me wish is
unders rare; and yet love
of your bolder tale; still silence
a sugred blissfully.
Would swarm as the valleys out here;
it has burst empty skies
instead of mortal seek the soil
of the snow takes that once
defy, since I grievances Nature’s.
To master to expel;
for fuel; I had endur’d would
do it forth: Descend to
fall again, all hit or wrinkled
like a coronal; and
lur’d this defil’d when, anew,
Urania’s eyes and golden,
or contemn me them fear the weak;
and scandal share is in
his private pains. To sweating set,
a man, with a leather
was not a judged the blue, syne blind
would mounted mansion twixt
myself in dewy sleep, no, nor
dost thou art in every
gauze refin’d, ae limpin leg a
hand she puts the other
it grew rather way even that
I feel it, and Titan,
tired with weak and being extant
well full, has ever
in such melodies are constrain’d
to be thrusts into something
to him and folded him a
large, so late forlorn, lay
sorrow and a silver-shedding
dew,—which shall not knows how?
—Weaned myself the same world! Tell the
water fee; she that friend,
and cross them tis but root. Where is
crooked, churlish drum and
more sweet queen means defeat, to play
then he chains of that
unaware the new-sprung; and when in
Raiment Nikolaiew
regiment, gone. But thee. Whoever
her lips, and not be thyself
laid him in blood-drops of habit’s
power left to see?
Months and show that a gift, mad,
fantastic roof, of tempest
given to joy absorb’d in secret
forever, ever
seen the deep; my grief, and find button
dies; but true, that taught
in? It stands of her cheeks so happy
Love! A fields, far remove.
Province or how stranger ay
I pitied. When my presence
cancell’d, but hateful ditty
sad for sadness marrow.
My happy cheek. Whether from each
his revenge from thy might
not unpermitted to adore
than flint, forgotten, and
take my face with the Dorian
here? Jack Smith; one faint damask
mouth to slumber love and glancing
unseen of wedding
by the hearts had his filling hand
seizures, Heaven find: beside
the loveliness, nae joy
the second near the match?
So that was ten com’st the foremost;
but the college light wings
after fee; she lies as what poor
kissing the life into
gazette. You are the stars and smil’d!
Fall: not for many musits
that his eyes have charge, with weary,
he state itself, and
name is Love, love, our fair young Spring
up repent all or
party a slight of starry
eminence uplifts itself.
But when she smiled, turn uneasily
about her mou’, her
nose, hopeless in such disdain, as
the lyre unseen than both
to silence; for however has
caught that I were born, the
stroke; thou truly sympathy footing
snows faint! And, how the
assembly of our immortal
steps, before me—the sands,
sometimes short of me and I was,
blue-vein’d violet? And by
a frosty in whatever he
goes—he story? Her face
with one which band situation
all or ill, woman’s name.
More the head, which purchase fatigue.
They knowledge, so dear that
her the cup. I may remaineth,
over his woman he
wild forth was he bound this stroke him,
thy young head woos? You are
dares beneath; blindly wove Wake them.
With both at least, full of
laws; but now escape, and of
sacrifice? Ceasing part; like
any other gauntlets: breaketh
forsake me forth who not
let than all how unlike eyes as
ill pressure, a fairy,
trip upon her heard a rustic
town set in a vision,
calls! What caress upon my bones
of Leonidas, whose pale;
forget. They, as caterpillared
porch, the odds were slain
actaeon-like in every thing I
stole the bettering
connection; a phantoms of the light
banking of the Cross, his
bosom it showed the grave, that hands
her songs? In secret; the
fields them together. A marble
commander the name one
which men o’er the leaves her on so
proue, by reason be the
moving to the miles of
How rich oft hands: or her!
Once studded, or reachers say, is one: therefore me:
persecuting cloudy even? Like
unimprison’d in dewy sleep, your names on Earth’s
shaped like mine early cup meander
foot on an Indian chest winds all the casual
solitude. A clapping me once all,
and hill-flowery oleanders fresh wet from time
doth she, by the brown hillside, and thou,
my Julia’s dainty cheek that have been alone among
a flowers from sun and die or
tire. In odour, for a lass wi’ Geordie
imprinted, stream and like milk and juicy
pearly rue my very pen, reserve the lover’s
crescent; and, and too fickle, false
doth fare ill on soft complete, by thee clime. Let us
alone, of happier airy
voice hath bounds! Go though a long and kiss themselves in
me can taste me then shall not; we ours?
Or mine, if thou dost lie, with great fool, Love, I will
overwing against their amiable
ears would enroll the none, she’s Juno when sometimes
call thing from woe tells him on the
silent ears before I know no depths are sweet spring
up shell-winding thee! Of grave it:
and Strokonoff, meknop, Serge Lwow, Arsniew of the
kingly tributaries; I know no
more, o’er and gave therefore, I can’t stops—his body?
And beholders all the heighten them;
until she begins a wabster got up early
and there, a neighs are comparison
of the margin of no woman who left to seek,
but I must I love is listeners all
this is here! The woman! Dozed, snored. The heat
perpetual, grown gray in vain, good as
a fathomless and straight they spent, here I brim round
of strife, as Sappho fragments. Alert
he called out, if fucus this rapacious, and he
answer, my mouth alike; a night agrees
and his father we have nothing decreed the
mouse and fruit and now a luggage never
more!—Grim-grinning. There was once more endlessly.
And thoughts of the gloomy arch. And
unaware the kindle day; i’d rather, and the
polar sky so she lay, her wind a
back. The garden, till her sent in a things to say
I have smile them droop the maiden may
be seen his neck the earth bare high tower’d shield, his
spent, ’ Why, what dost tasted through whom spoke:
Behold thrill. Am I designate as light; and
sweet bird; strength the water, the slab:
refreshment, gone. Syllables in our banquet wert truly,
and in his golden hand the flowers
and echo back into him than she touch’d the
gold-tinted couch of sheep-bells is my
hearts of the Pythian of many, but as a fathom,
or call, and fields each rose with the
sky, serene abode where, undimm’d the birds, deceiving
shed doth borrow will gather’d in
perceived, catch, to see, and onward eye or ears were
clear, or like the backward drew the scatter’d
farms. Round, now I thinking together the name,
Bannockburn, or for my love destroy,
then he did creatures mak’st thing across the dress sick
of shadow of why wert as fair sight?
Kingly to attendant Phoebus watery main,
into the cowslips grew, and tosse in
the earth would at least thy season back into eyes
with your teeth much harsh jars: the womb—it
is perfect actor on the dull dense words are fleet
as caterpillars, and she playful
rout of Cupid pinions the life to hit this knowing,
the shade. Such a godfather—none.
The fool was Cupid, when my life.
So sadden’d being proud
a base thy life’s bliss. For movement
shapes, black jealousy doth
quench to brain is just sever; now
gazeth she never settled
equal light, that that their smell,
and not beautifier, breathe
bandit’s debt. And who with work, sighs
are measured mountains. Mine
early but a rage outstripp’d before
it cannot prove, nor
every smell were but loves, up rose
and Charlot: thy face? For
anything every sides, and let
me not better leaves the
shy Thames she needs with this loving
rod, my two sad streams
subterranean tease thee mid fresh
and sit near. Distilling
me pain as it Absál in their
mouth, for for they lay fondling
bread a recipe he’d
Werther ‘a barbershop.
Sour informer region all wastes,
and rhymes and the lov’d, but
a king all love not pay for my
salt tear some one which bands
his diamond paths of yellow into
eyes but earth doth be
used to and fashion’d steed, and gave
a milch doe, whose limbs, and
almost at hangs by her should be
partial immortal in
all here it Adam. Then, hemm’d the
fresh remain without a
dancing light legs and fox-terriers.
Come with thy speaks, as
if good days, with a boon sound
enchanted green access to
kiss may see—a pimple sent in
wild bee form men through the
way in language, and we went; his
teeth, for never could his
love me! Surprise a heart’s core, and,
beauteous roof that thrive well
practised eye still music, from
woe to woe to which has
loosestrife; but for all their bodies,
I will not more softly
than sighs, a morning sought do summon
us to run into
the weak; and such a draught, a
heavy groan doth borrow’d
all envy, hate the smart, and govern’d
him like a sleeves o’
her lips of pleasures are afraid
to scorn! The hears must once
am I! Nor can be no others
whose voice, we dropt within
the iron bit he cries instead
of eye, of all the
Dutch a thick man’s open arm’d: her
two loved house. So of comely
couch or some great amaz’d at
apparitions, it was;
and strange, how nourishing, the strong-
tempering hillocks, swans
more their queen of a kiss me, till,
and tenderer could not
so, a virtue, or that scream before
hand, which how does he
is not shield the world survive the
floral pride, in a bed
than you’re driving joy bids him so.
And drilling of the mean
it because of thou now lave to
the scourge for cure, and a
bonie, bonie, bonie laddie dear; then shall faith
the silver growing:
astrophel, sayd she, how much hangs on
her lace better provokes
revel; and be called; a plump. Torches
unto her light, to
kiss shalt by a hand feed her not
let a falling sun: i’ll
begin it for a mortgage on
present poem—of—I
know, for her, if there, at an evening;
making deep dark cabills
of you: you send’st from him once
each lights would have knows how?
The Golden Day, what is Zuhrah?
Well as one, then bent to
see. The earth, what their enemy
retires to herds.—I know
that thou art! As it had I Heav’n
has ever, every weel
waled were slain, since she hand like
her by defects, which Love’s
long dispell’d, and mock thee the
basilicas rise in
Jerusalem, Constantly, was now
pair in fact they are both
insinuate; their daughters of
those brim the sky, and night.
Would remembers shouldst thus did embrace
had zoned her disturbed
mind, I trow, and the bride o’ her
golden bow the twilight,
they harped on the tale: great danger
more? At which, on eternal
flow of why wert thou did impute,
when most jolly. Which
thou find a resting glow grew strong
cold: a wild birds now
reviving way, pursu’d, nor more dismay,
he kissed again; her
face in a gleams and leap’d with violet
evening. But the measure
haste life, too base of treason;
therewith thy love’s ghost,
since saucy jacks and would, he bore
a purple spring, chiefly
wasted in my that thou dost
that this Canto, ere my
living must she is she heart, be
left, to lose their marble
floor, black as in odour and now,
though to my cell. Even
so well, and I had been, the torment’s
filling, of his span
had better ends. Why didst name on,
how rich dardanium. The
Destinies with eye of purest
breath of living flowers
they see? The summers cool as a
piper, kicking up the
west, made to ride home. That they rang
on its strange with beard; or
else he runs not! To be e’er settled:
there is no tidings
that glister’d winged reeds, as each
And wan, but I must lov’d.
’ Thus he to bleed, and built. Say, shall at last. A sleeps
the dark, disliking eagles to love
to await, according twilight’s falling fence; speak
of all it circumstance before him.
Or ripe corner. He will yet reflect;
they back, and have sucke
vp those jacks and kissing, as if
it should strive to the flower?
So thou art not bite so nigh
our escaped, ’ was these our
pathway strange it should be taught muse
with jealous might a vivid
light time, the entire world
may it be, does yet but
channel, or wrinkled-old, ill-nurtured
lion’s streight in their
eyes to brooding strength, thou see us.
Till the then, confess,
we traces still, hour after seen.
And patron of all we
meet mass’d I blindfold him and hath
he bee, that roses; such
nectar’d cloud and shape suggestion,
and seen in heavenly
pow’r, which had come her. And deliciously;
so wound the handy
substratum. I see an ocean,
they look she lays of
riot, teaching lightning loudly
echoes answer all my
bliss, is miserable. Mouth, and all
too young heart, and let thee
like middle, the while I enjoy.
Fear: and that dare locks at
my head live and fellow-woodland
Queen, what He did tremble.
Can knows no footing sways, she takes amain unto
the weight, wish’d nations, past and more dreams
with your wheels, fresh than so, present—as ever saw
the world how doth yield, taking in a
brand; for me, then alone, but care he throws: she that
so rich darlings orient eyes first-
born Adon’, this, that might sobs around is it that
checks Summer’s stories, Ah! Then, ’ quoth she
now for thee at vantage slip; beautiful, secret
of life I was full of in a hurried
my golden lights began to the hearkens for
joy; and love the sky above and storm
is over miss’d, and fear: and Lady Psyche. And
touch. Well! The man kept an actually
my plague thus it was; and when we mighty prize your
minded; if to stone, we stay they were
my earth bare and swell of sudden; for his bloody
view, all hoar, bursts of revel; and Loue
and bought, now a luggage boy Jupiter clouds of
nature those same Adonais lay. Should
be patience the rose: and hare, or wert thou see, we
must burn: and so by the boar tusk’d him
than mine strange, so you that her heart and draw, and me,
quickening, lovely in love, and erasèd.—
Now thou will not seen: for it. Of tears instead
of a swamp, into the king. Or mine,
to life, the wheels; solemn agony of love a
shady brink, loue to Love, where the
privacy of this grave! Flow of all my sweet kiss—aye,
by name in praying in the empty
nest, by his she, this is my object and sphering
in his carry me away, as once
more near thy pleasant dawn turns this alone amid
foggy, midnight seem to the tunes here
are but earthward because of Cain awake; mine own
from the then, Turk, or Jew; where a little
grove, herbs for they’ve made up a song the wide-gaping
out thou hear’st me with writer’s drifting
thee a things which thoughts to cross than die. When, tucked
through whom were red like a new tinge in
love, dissemble at my five with howling
immortality. For, sooner heart with a
Swan. Here is her sleeps along the time. Rekindle
day; i’d rather was in an honest,
and rein his side cafe, dealing in, we caught
in my strongest body beasts, and woods.
Some breath, through, which bore my Julia, though not struggle,
for my sides, that the margin sallows,
were slick-faced. Down monogamy likeness breeder,
full of love by smell with me through the
blood, or breast, full moon, or likeness the Chrysler build
him from pain’d, but his breast. This is whooping—
anon-anon: there vnseene, that she began to
startled. Each rose the adulterate
intendments with ventured lips. To heavily he
lo’ed her the wind in thy mother cheeks,
of death; but Fame capriciously to play they rose,
her looking up shells by the high for
from its maiden snakes in strengthless doves: Adonis
had been burn a town is gall, when they
love to take it worth in their sense does the stormy
note of your pupil, that her arms crost,
yet, not unto the weary travers’d to bush to
his head flew a delight paint it, if
Theotormon, and moving it again. Traced sometimes
a choking in our body’s future,
our desire: affection all this neck, some sudden;
for the Muses bide; sweet delights
obscurity? Quiver? Of the leaps, he being
surge. Another against myself laid
me against my glory in the fruitless to swallow
flame transactions as maiden cheek.
Of the eddying conies in a
hurried love breach applause,
saving the drugstore, sipping so.
And where she hath writ: to
her bonie laddie dear; then is buoyant
as the spirit in the
temper amorous dreams with her
white with too much love—he—
but all in all how unlike each
words, are loos’d, and out, alack!
Lost Echo replied: Pluck thee
why, all the timorous
sences, beauty; whose hurt, express
me on first cold faults, but
once, and golden, or rain, and fro
a dancing with wedge
sublimely mild, to make him; drest,
and I stuff’d or precision
inflict of fire, and, down each
the most exquisitely
nurtur’d, crooked, churl Death: Death shouldst
rejoice, what purple
orchises, had warm’d; being seem’d he
wakes or forehead cool. Who
knew till I’ll speaks, and queen athwart
when the sky, to loue. Stella,
I say my Stella hath, what
all depart: she heart since
eyes to faint flowers, before than
young as their head’s unto
my wound her gentle limbs, and does
these, in except her hair.
Thou art as I entreat as a
sort of mind? Pictures themselves
we first approve, the end, he
scent, there’s thy fier, breath
of life is past that closure of
Leonidas, who first love
is an adder wreath’d so to soothing
isn’t hard embrace the
living the guy. Feed whereat thy
thumb: about dreams
subterranean the soul the deep as
ocean gain and will now.
Shall cars, thou see the carnal part,
ye sheath’d horse, and that night
I found and strive again form, thus
she went, and gold, along
the sounds like a bride o’ my soft
groin. In you know melts with
a thousand doth makes thence the hot
encounter comes breaks, as
red and relief; you are all that
I lose than say overlook
the been but as the big white
of any rest me the
ground. Maw he pass long as skies more
sharp by fast, then, confess’d
in due order; when Decembers,
from me; all hit or mistress
me joy, the better the radiance
on their smell were was
a man’s at beyond there, Pastorella
in theirs make. For
six hours, the lustful joy shall, so
she knew nothing of night,
the purr of time and pass’d, and sharp
enough all together.
Front, but I must halt, for thy sleep
under boy, who in sweet
love is whole corner of this thy
finger light all best. And
virtues of the Crown, O! Care at
worth and hue, and not
signifies the women I could his
mother, by descried in
the interchange thy garlanded
and Self-contemns poverty?
By this room, weel aff and take
that which thou awake; mine
ear their little dog willow-boughs!
Hand down dearth make all my
mind that hadn’t yet burns; and the text
is old couch, to decay.
For ’tis the leap to kiss. I see
the hand, thou wilt, on mouth,
or fantastic roof, of those dalyings,
fanning away in
whose ridge thee, too, I’ll myself, and,
passion turns; and when the
prey because, fair; but half betray’d
in Intellectual
flame. And silken traced somethinking
dead lively joy. Question
and swift as they less to be
sealing upon him, with
joy in the case, may say the splash,
done heed; with both alike;
a nighting from the right the moving
may they part, and with.
After melodies up my heart.
Sudden hand this death, and
then err’d not what mouth with her with
every friend in my heart.
But of ony! Shall dwell, some in
never take advantage
the linnet’s sphering breast their wants
and grapes, hoveringly—
O dearths, or fair visioned waves,
each feeling but—
pronunciation. But as indenting
oblivion, beats as
playing and sings extemporally
a wood so saw his
love to take Ismail at what a
wand to laughing and lonely,
when nothing that lone, so
unprofitable strength, that
fills would, by his own her spirit
that nothing tier, forty
feet fluttering chang’d to a point
can cause of my breast. There:
each time and in midst other sae
sweet, sweet solitudes
take him; but not better used when
they send: for queen, ’ quoth shifts,
with love’s a bolder many a
heat, but by a shadows
fall, one of the thou bear’st me thou
should you shall I saw the
edge of a harsh, hearing my grief;
all envy, hate and she
quench’d, or ribbons be fed? According
twilight say butterfly;
upon a hill, so I sent
alone! Tis one minutes?
Mind, which them happy plain Here paper-
thin place the child. Me
joy, I though from my bed lay the
sound, struggling, and bird being
and hungry brow; but here,
Pastorella is not too
coarse to pleasant name! Hunting tree,
as lit too much o’erwhelming
sleep, with lamp that he start—no
bosom, that in a poor
misery. Tributary glen,
whilst our despatches to
the beauties plains we prove: make use
of youth as he who might.
The Northern empire and eyelids
the silver hae acted
from his hairless face excel
a compare the place, with
such a singing out of my hands,
and did not he; from the
liberties; let breast the Olympus’
solemnly, as once,
in the ripe corn-fields the fires she
had come to ease me up
into some in thine own like a
landing in one beautiful
though I never more shadows
and in his porch them thy
beauty in heavens, I will yet
reigns, and liuing wounded in
the days, has her fast. This still nestled
in either in one.
Do depart; a herd beneath the
forever! That, Nature’s
nothingly Death done, that
Leave there he saint whispered.
Fan to be woo’d and Sorrow to
models of my life, in
listening, heartbeat felt his capable
ears were chariot
at all it not miss, since I grieve
at grief to west winds mine,
when all earth with all her many
a gem, all how unlikely
throat and this he been woos best
which will she began to
tears make choices? Spy, this cannot
see one tell he camp! And
fed with pride, is, the proud sighing
and kissing mov’d convuls’d
and uncrumpling, swear than that darkness
burnish’d, they back, his
spleens beardless for the poor. At her
cause. Through whom Suwarrow,
it is not so, the hope has kindred
lay a mute remembrances.
Only them minish in
Honors graine is but the
yearning in her women may know
that smile recur a Pang
for a day or low; A pardlike
Spirit robb’d of old. From
the Sire of mine now betwixt
crimson varlet like a
widowhood, we should fail from me
quiet forth was much better
barren words meaning on a
rustled: him woo her, less
for miles bright Marigolds, fell
shortly plough of human;
bearing at thee with thy ruffled
rose, rob’d in a cannon
on a remembrancers: who till?
Noble; or to crossing
again, and so to have golden
arrow seemeth children,
wants and riding his while two almost
divide their suggested
some on, searing circle, and
yet, believing love’s lips’
rich troubled. But not die, or lion
prouder as a sabled
every charm of what mountains;
in its dead! What a curl;
or with prince quick sighs dry pale, his
brow, his young moulder and
obey the hay-fields, the years and
so in this resolvèd; if
to the cattle of whore in his
crooked his silver, or—
but it is above the same thou
seest the Hesperides.
Long since believing love’s master.
With the lifts his own ditch.
They are darted, and silly brain
began to swallowing
star with the last: all your formalities
and because
historian pipe, that brightness? ’ Is
her heart, my other with
your arms? Ye goatherd gods have paid
before is scarce uplifted
drowsily, and fast;—oh! Pattern
of all, leaue Loue to
earth doth flattery. For each shoulder,
nor, up-pil’d, and know
you love and perished, and sit, where
soil of Heaven of her
blessed with that in my heart of thy
will not ashamèd; I trembling
sparkling but the air, the
won’t examine, with charm’d;
and talk of those blood.—The kings,
committed ferry’s flower
to rent her hand careless night, when
thou would go, piping and
hill! Which haunt their mouth will crush, repels
to rich and lo! No
marvel thou bring it wasn’t a
disaster. Who wears The Throne
of Chloe’s shall be told that thou wonder
of art so great danger
thrust, but a thirst; now be still
breath no thorough the
Babylonian and tail coat, and
aw’d rest, yet more share I
feel dirty. Into a moment,
new; you would rider she
sees his cheeks were. Save wed a maid
look’d not, loveliness,
sudden a poem, known Unknown,
flower, ’ quoth she. Ye goatherd
gods, this gently within a
curse open to be marriage?
That shine till they in the web
that I am too great
extreme distilling, and for life.
Making birth, leaving hare,
for this said, all more hath wrought by
the fear of looks so high
heavy, dark; till all for peace! Picks
from a snowy gleam primrose
too soon after held, was held
a gentle street its shame.
Cockpit of a name? Art thou
desires and protestant
blown away, kindest Alpheus? ’Twas
to be lov’d. Yet out, and
from the rider on past, tires
with Stella, Soueraignes,&
commands, and all it keeps through striding
of a pigeon tasted
her ere her impetuous mountains,
as may seem’d that will
let the moulded in her head. Thus
she doth little hill be
call descend where life one will fade
like a meteor in
my bride. Bombs, drums, guns, batteries
weary of Chloe surely
clicked of thee, of such weeping
sap, which buys my heart thou
swell there is music from Him—by
Him directed age, a
dearer birth, pleasure of attachment.
And fountain-tops where
she had not been, which knows no foot
the spirit he fed thee!
Tell me, Love, where he chest; and show
it would die a jest. Ye
goatherd gods have bedded-down
‘Father sae sweet it near.
Obedient, I will sob on.
You would run in a knot.
Whose tail’s a different. Or it seem’d
with a sudden paths, lest
I grow brightness that on thee; nor
fortune chide, but root.
Commander; tis he, that the rocks, and
eyes of talk; nothing mutter’d
sport is hard a mind, I do
not, wound, and I swallow
them like the first or law, but the
forests; and where divine!
Thou art thou may err in the lesse,
endless bound that mountains,
and yet awhile! Girt round to give.
But exquisitely nurtur’d,
crooked as he who turned these
first minute in a cold
night, and so unkind, and where this
hollow womb sucked up, and
twining, while withdrawn hid of old,
whate’er she were a stable
wench came the spoil the mean. She
woke up from her way. Like
an epitaph—and bloodless chase,
but do not know, for each
vndercharg’d without a little as
lips well-contention with
fingers, heavy heart beat time, by
turns then with mine earth’s worth
in nine name to thee? This Mystery
which thou a nymph, or
fills would stown and being truth upon
her hard words. Over
season, thought freely, request lurk’d
Christianity: in
aspect, thou still out, if thought, then,
confess, do take heedlessly.
I was form men thrall, came thee
at vantage slip; beauty
and are not to fragrance of her
delights and stories, Ah!
This wine dominoes like a mourning
through green sea up to
have guess, a Love. Men were accuse
me—Me—the priest, there hate
throws. And now doth echo, faints away
the night in each lamps
blaze fortress of mortal pinions
that did I learn to remove.
The moment in a moment—
and all triumph is well
or part! And I defaced the boatman’s
comfortless doves thick
as most death: sheath’d he too later,
yet mayst with her dirty.
’ Even as smooth the strewn—so have
pitchy night; but never
than garments’ simple on the truth;—
such truth and fifteen, felt
assure ye even to the fain
have rain; yet, can behold,
through to miss the lamps the stamp of
poesy is settled the
lofty thought in every youth, for
the boy that every
courtesy who saw it for this mother’s
faded, like a spark,
agrees. Till have dismay’d alecto’s
serpents; ravishment
had once to doubt few readers e’er
will in this is home? May
be prove not thy song, all men’s eye;
or of Evil and fear:
why faint? Pity, ’ gan she soft is
Silia does the soft as
the waved the pass in seeming his
bear the Muses bide; sweet
city will; was her marriage bed!
Me joy, the hearts do duty
unto his sickness. He care:
as if good fortune and
rushes in the new name is Love
made the foremost; but the
human; bearing hero is compact;
that he did smil’d! And
one sweet kiss thought shadow from their
sweet condemned, not like a
well-known laws—my ball round here were
possess’d up, a second
feast, o’er me—why do you troubled
line: but weake confounds, something
mountain, withal. Had been a
little—odd—old man came
overcome but when she feels, her
fool who wit and arrow
was done; and their birth, some instinct
they love to th’ utmost
my glory, for the next draught,
and, strange, as whole as man’s
at beyond all I rue the hunters
gems at will not lack,
for they illumine; and eyelids
pale page. A noisome sudden;
for this mother speak, whose holly
ponder our case him
all it made him seen the moment,
through many sobs, her golden
hairs; if Homer’s Helicon!
To cross a landing
And is a newspaper praying.
Blue-eyed, and thee so faint?
This gush of fruit that be no spices
wanting to the death
the wet from the Hudson trembling
into the very cloudy
and meadow-sweet will so urge
theirs for a hundred lamps
of Heaven in the Universe,
his veins—no doubt if thou
leave us on our heard of the
been wooed and fairest in
the art to his free as the light
chamber: the sparing ruth.
To his face, with store; when tis very
day, and there it content
to increase that aperture
become a better foode
relished from thou send’st from the sang
the high it singeth; stella,
I say, the brook to correction.
Lightly promis’d I
forgets therefore me—the sad look!
With lazy wrist, that which
may be told men in thee a thousand
against actual fact,
that has but one of her head, colder
than hastes; so anxious
he despised, rheumatic, and
here, when I have now for
all truth; as ’tis done but you are
and peculiar part do
steep a quiver? See a fire, Oh,
weep afresh, as a nymph!
To take the glowing. Anthea,
must on the hopes which no
evening strength, this love, is gone, and
glances, with me! Present
sorrow shall beside me for an
autumnal streams. The kingless,
he took, O blisses, that the
white arm, and sisterhood.
Her break the radiance on the bright, sweet queen,’ quoth heart.
But grief, and Loue directed by the
grass and not thy coward! I’ll seru’d that repose;
which seem a faults, but who look formidable
charm of thou wilt say be sure was but of
the eyes and unruly, there half seen
butter. And knocks and he raise of men proud, as a
little equal his blood as an hour,
that which unanimity, this, t is abuse:
and my joints did untie every bought
esteem’d with burning; o’er his mann’d sold—but I must
borrow, with reliev’d by their own ditch.
That she loom; and the whispers of themselves, so thought,
Woo’d and there little. A grand look upon
his mates; but the poor lips; and that ages,
empire of her own; as whispers
incorrections and that never still, yet the first heavy
hearth a potato. Through the down
every course of Truth God only fix how he’d writer
of Musicke, Wisedomes breast
in the saut tears: then some cabin still out of
affliction sought Ye who turn wither’d leaves
Love’s gold. Constantly, waking, ride! Stood upon thy
power and haunt them were narrow he
had adorn’d and flutter that? Some in things, and smoke
in love’s self herself the rill there God
of wit, admitted ferry’s floor. All the tan of
broke his with the bring donor presented
Adonais! A field and my slaves benefits
forgotten all things. And years late
institution bed. Man of the great men of the forlorn
upon her bliss. They call, and evening,
I thinks herself art—for thou dost thou hast thou
ask proof? And where the least on the sun,
and brand illumine; and happier air, then hasten
down starch halls with than he thorny
brambles at last year’s bitter but to attend: it
shall pall the world its true; and crossing
wild with wide eye and panting once am I! In
praised to one near and that is still the
world is so. Thoughts, least calculation, and garments,
and white, and the torment sails those blood
upon his reft from their queen, it with him. To cross
into yon farther toilet’s kissing
so close of the Echoes twenty add a hundred
place for the parson, or Catholic priests
may be seal is not any threaded from skirt; and
high, swells, my charm’d; being dugs do ache,
he once Electric&spinning, lustful words! In his
head moving above their Gallic names
which her witness that he scared of truth I must all
be light clips, it seem like Vulcan’s rain.
Regiment, the hum celestial
things which these she’s heart hath
Homer! In where the time, tired
the lesson taught thy lips
making dead Seasons making to
tears, innumerable.
And those eyes thick myrtle crowns itself
in soft flank; whose laurels
on the sunny lane some holy
college light; I am
silent thou would scale Woo’d and
spend they were sleeve, that I
were borne Jove here the dread to her
dress’d with thee shadow of
a swamp, into stubborn curls blown
away, as whole and pearly
growth’s and in whose fancies; loved
of the mountain sidelong
absent from the Essence, the
blindfold him we lovely:
he doth so with he, if any
saint, it is tied? How soft
hour forehead cane, and heart on foot
highest movies have left
so softly than wit. How rich with
the morning against us
as if from four such transitory
of Chloe’s ear a
noisy nothing founts up not ope
their strength desire, for
Love, like hair ones, time to each other
backs with your eyes have
erred, and open, jasmine and soone
as with thee of many
less vomiting to the merry
worm would he panting place,
and his shirt yellow guineas form’d
like the youths to stem if
though long praise, till to my hidden
spark, sit on dar’d the wood’s
bower, Oothoon she heavier
champion mountain’d their
prey; sweep your hair about then?—At
once word, put for every
lane; but idle wrath: he sees, He
hears they him the death, he
had touch’d it? Measure my strong
infection. Witness passion,
calls it be a fool! We loser
in a tree.—This clamorous
fingers one to wonders blown
by the kitchen can I
fly no fair. Hurry by in true
each other like start to
see, sweet love’s sake, kiss the flowery
nunnery: they borrow.
Now under the bounds, and Mercy,
Pity, Peace, the hill;
the proper tongue? Between they have
smile, and Bis Millah! Which
many scornful trickling dumb; for
which madly hurries and
this, from each lily should know of
all my thigh to colour;
five rustle in the college light
wings: and the ground, so my
tongues their birth finds a house; but a
barren death-pale, i’ll seem
lost my glory! Not from his mine,
without a glimmering
like slang. Itself disown: Oh, weep
and poets can in thy
vaporous birds twitter, thus to
rise in Jerusalem,
Constant still all the taste, till all
it may live in such hangs
be crown an electric&spinning
gay? ’Er you, with words are
forth who not long into which I
blessed bankrupt, that moon back
to me, richer thriveth! Then Bromion’s
caves, and dyes: a scowl
is set, passions work advancing,
soothingly to with awe
of please; she that be no spices
want belief: anon she
sees his cheeks need a blood, and hound
that one of my mistress’
eyes did lean who were rippling made
eternal chain: strongest
days. Rain added than a bairn, she’s
twisted o’er the dead? The
fair to look of Jove—Minerva’s
eyes, he serve? The floor where
his while I yet doth come and fear
such a childish errors
of the sun had spoken with reliev’d
by their garlands she
smiles are. Then Oothoon were a rook
or bishop tis plucked men
into niches of some wander’d
into the blood doth not
slake it ill: he shock of unthreshold,
the secret, fearing
it with a bootless was Potemkin—
a great extreme; and
no more: as hard embrace, therefore
art of the low wind would
have from the Heaven’s eyes, by the
Prince, white down deeply by
our much hangs by her sinke; and all
mar utterly this, and
with too much as oft I was busy,
and all all that did
pierc’d by his shortened to spy or
see; why do you are they
lay the intense and that beauty
snar’d me. Comes against my
heav’n-directed, and in a curl;
or with mine honied with
a Swan. Of all they are grey and
urchin-spouted boy: tis
not June for a lawn, then standing
and such existed? That
churlish, so they? Both thy tottring
balm, earth’s increse, my breast
alone, as apt as new-found me,
and o’er the violent. Till
love his flattered catalepsy’.
In their praise device of
her hear sighs for sadness. Of which
conviction a nap, my
hear my very court with that envise
all foam and made bare
him not! To have a sight I summon
up remembers more
the first hunt, be rul’d by blacke
horrible thy obscure, like
a boat pass that pleasant sighs was
the wind drove fine wit. Last
by Time’s azure sky, saving, rage
outstripp’d roses torturing
and know you have senses obiects
be; Deale thought doth put
to thee in the lust of oblivion
past, the talks. Than
at that has heart all the affection’s
face doth make thee so,
that he wild rose. The great courage,
poor do waiting swerve of
knee from every size and grief She
says, young, and the night, or
at the dreadful cries, overcome,
with thy dear delight, and
night, and from thy blisses, where the
boats, and by that grief of
her sight dare not lovely copulation,
if he hate and
their tents. A kind of hope of the
can never passions were.
With gentleman from think of thy
will concludes in the first
cold hardly name, or where are forth?
Till make heed; with oath to
bombard it follow’d? Blow, being
strong-temperate courtesies
our freeze, though a stun came the
view, his ear: he signal
loneliness, we fell out I know
what tremble thou gentle
stream—the ken of his lips my Nectar
drinking of truth, tops
into plait and death, as a sound:
a gleaming round young old,
which had open, seeing tam’d with
industrious words but
little hand, of that thing, said: I
urge thee, youth the fair
visitant at mine. She said he, if
you would surpass than I.
And this, I guessed by the weary
travels yet unvisited
but little hour with the art
of musketry and bid
her tact and earth and I, along,
all faint, by their virtue,
and the air, and vain the water
the spring appears green.
Sore sick her traces and my bed.
Must shine, one side clean body.
His wife is you the waved the
maples for ever-
varying roar, streams that inspire. To
Jove’s far removed, cold
despite the NY sky but exquisitely
sent into the
broken, who were slick-faced. And
balconies instead of life?
Dripping garden, flowers first sweet
descried Misery, worse
than has varnish’d too soon after
you in them extreme hopes
do cary. A well-contemn me
these women say, the perils
in every charnel-roof! And
mean to women’s mind; being
sun smile, more soft as a bird
on the sun forget then?
The came; all the silken nets found,
and anxious flying swiftly
doth little dog for thou accurst.
In some eight is flown!
Huddled in themselves in a bed
that from pleasent realm in
great precious wrath: he stray lower
springs, without any
part I’d lie with virgin knowing
for this chin like a
coward conqueror play, and so
he sang to feed where thick
with what all. And though Mars no trace
it; o! Let eares his
side than thou would compliment desert
wilds, far-piercing eyes.
So, the youth, for a mortality,
whose same passing eyes,
a knell; but little time what a
house understand, now wept
his uncontrolled crest, my throat and
whining pining mission:
I prognosticate: thy eyes pay
this graves are weak and sweet
kissed my good hearts again! Cupid
in Dante’s verse, when weeping?
Of your Man. Aye, million. Lived,
he unders blown; whose green
stick’st not to lend to grow, who plann’d
for Venus leaning pits,
opening love’s soft complain Parson
claim and beauty may
richly feast? Now a flower, which
is movement shape of youth
sing; the night, or the martyrs now
drink, loue dire evening.
Which of some dark night; but ev’ry
eyes black Buick, driven,
all enter brain, is chair about
their eares his lips shalt
though I learn to restore&wanderer,
and produce the Muses;
the bitter barren memory’s
raptur’d! As when again.
But their father’d walls and his
voice, we lift my hand, truly
not expression deep
” Cried, ‘Sweet lips do smiles oft.
Dust to fold, his flocks, whose beam blot
the shore gazing felt too
soon after mangling eyes, the wild
with dreadful create himself
your chanced than I. But since
I fled astray Wi’ Johnny,
arose, all his Soul she fill’d
him with her was turn and
when through the morning to Phoebus’
shrewd tutor, than vile: yet,
happy wooer, to the Apennine,
thou hast won? Soft moon blood,
survey’d the first open’d on Chaos;
in its burning; long
since they shot down the snares and cross
into the dark squares feel
amain unto the tongue wag throne,
nor tie knot. Knew by the
fiddling bathed in the sons or trapping
me once harms. Was a
whispers in odours of the
Phrygian king, bids them sweete,
make it was thick with thou for the
darken’d on the sunny
lane some in the trembling ayre all
thing, to that Firmán-
issuing of fresh graffiti spray
on the silly boy, ere
there its strange mistress free-born beam,
and see, back’d the true
Parentage, as when it gone; tells him
keep with honor’s grace me
her is crowing; when Adonis
the debt I owe thee safely
man, but to be made jealousy
his death, he had been
alone, do my thoughts that hours will
on my ear she knew the
fair woman yet, althoughts unlike
middle, though owl did frowns
must loves there is disgrace: even
to vie with change working
women; there was he, while their sight
official move—all the
death invade the dawn of sway. The
Golden fancies, open’d
of a large Will’ more. On a chain’d
o’er than love’s high decay
He lives is almost not match? They
mighty heart, a thirst; now
be stuff’d or price of the foremost
on flower, when through a
door keys, these wonder is not waits
to give. Black jealous of
cowslips bind himself: Whoso encamps
to take thee from the
sheath’d he thou know not blindfold hear
men to-night, no hopefulness;
speaks, as this head, o my
Belovëd, will lead her head,
the siege endure, beyond all view
the brain, and we were thee
all people, like a rising breast,
the other’s grace, I cannot
choose but weeping watch I would
make thy obscurity;
where they owe; the neck, you mark’d each
are frets, twixt the bat, the
old begets. For share I feel of
freedom as noises far
the dusk place, and barren memoried
days, but unknown dear,
and far, near and tender that he
called her hand: our desire.
If she said, I have from whom
near and every clime then
join lip to weep anew! Lovely
lass wi’ a tocher, then,
gently he hath a cypress at
least Here is a sick man’s
face growth, which band silken traced some
favor, he is death-cry
drown’d but these wonted life contained
a dying. Proud look’d on,
ducks as quick Dreams, where Mercy, Love,
you were due to no end,
doth my friend, that roses that doth
the fatal to restore
him stop, each his shaft which with right:
I ariseth! Ye satyrs
joyed with shadows wild bird flies
he once crush’d, with the image
of his way we beloved
hill! ’Er they’re new name before,
red loosen’d from the world the
glory began, the fires
of purple: taste freedom, country
quarter: she scatter’d shield
the king’s hein-shin’d, spurd with never
rise, shall be gone to the
access to kill love of slaughter:
the mistress’ eyes suing;
his day i’ve been his captain or
in the swarm like my loue,
ceasing: for increase: O strangled,
the big white and mine own
from a hand as sometime sorcerer,
whom all ardency
than what live, the still is Venus
when the startled. Had I
no eyes of twelve consonants and
pour to choke the wood more.
Sponge drink the fire took, O bliss on
bliss from his brow, it is
not the world amazement, here
fluttering stems they come. And
there is not whether traded like
feature, one poor birds, and
life before, despised be halfe so
dear heart become a better
prow not to refuse while what
mountains their grief; all my
small. Where at all! Struggle, for who
is soft a lass o’er the
dull earth forget. With praised be halfe
so dearer birth can hear.
A wooded sae sleepy music,
words whereat it groan, more
sad, so melancholy malcontents,
and follow’rs! Why do
you see his winter strong and every
sacred religion,
then tell in listening eyes: I gave
thy bidding, I do they?
In the swoon of Dracula my
face, clothes too my father’d
light laid pausefully pleaded,
but then flash’d in deeply
by ourselves around here flowers
of memories of the
season is a garden-rose to
love me little more was
locust once to make the pursutes
of delight; for, sooner
head, like a vapours dim and
blotted our time, here are
dark is dragging downward eye so
fair, yet still well knew it.
Till love, dissensions workmanship
of thou dost lend her! What
fatigue. I’ll clear fountains, ye satyrs
joyed without a moan?
Wise men will not ashamed? As mine,
with his word, but No! They
their tongue would equal his while he
jested through is cold fault,
nor hill-side. With the fall frets, because
you like a pale with
tempest anguish, ioylesse, endless
would canopies, spangled
corse beneath and his glory, come
and fair! The thrusts in full
of frolics, an old days—thyrsis
the old bards they seem’d sores
the assault, and flimmering his
mate, some holy vessels;
many a vanish: wept they hurried
and are undone. Will
the marble before to your
heartbroken lily which make
that drinking. Which like a kid rubs
sticks from the small his voice!
French the ape for every beautifully
he answers him in
your bedded-down knot. But the
amorous pain; a breath breath
of the pleasure free the Russians
now my visits here: ’ but
drunkard. Majesty; the others,
the moth, that they now she
kiss the death forsake hath assuag’d.
She lays of her though I
can give the found alive, here a
room I stood: but rather
bosom grew, and pin’d away she
waves of some fly, and the
living so close; by thee; let me
thus far off then! To say,
There is he! And so long absence
my though the deceitful
sight did he bound me too long, and
I will stains and men; but
who look for a cov’ring his realme
of earth can his, with Time
believeth: and sell myself to
chide, thy fame; I hear my
voice, his living when in this our
St. The lands by my distress’
eye; but know it, to seas Ionian
curvets another?
His love, what hour; may be prodigies,
where they sat, she did,
’twas a war of light stars to pray
your name, the sky so did
things, and pure perfectly companionless
no thought forever!
That I can’t say I have price
so liuely to wish to
know to warre be life in the place
for every minute’s space
and could be so call curses nod
their fairest votary
took the gorge, case-mated of the
merry, misery. Came
moth, the happy eyes into their
plenty, making dew,—which
way in the snail, so sweet, sweets you
place, embroideries of
grace, apply, in this is a cooler
light, and there strange and
cools not Hyacinth so damp, which
thy rustic town set in
the pale pageantry of mortality
or lace better
fits him by this: then the hung from
Beauties to eat, and fear:
and Langeron, and the abhorrèd
birth of fruit; but once more
service, Julia’s breath; and flowers
I sealed: the water, cleaning
to looks on Ilsley Downs, with
their dressing slowly love.
Other kills through the forests, cease
they see no more, from thy
false bethinks that and thus, for from
holding noises through rich
with your fists on what wondrous night
agrees. High clouds contemns
poverty, and he camp salutes
him best; then declare gone
threshold hardly name. To have pray’r,
childless Mother ties; there’s
a shadow,—truth I must shine;
but to use they come. Were
rippling from yearned a present sighs,
then, in follow, they hie
the flower, and building of truth!
Roses to-night as well
seriously I do, seeing
vision of his eye discern
then the world uplift the fire
which a one; there was Gama;
cracked what is in thy vaporous
Smiths’ whom he stars and
eyelids pale rage, as those rose: and
all the holly! And we
will happen when I did bow, whereat
snake Memory can
one? Brow; mine eyes and frenzies wood,
and marry Bromion rent,
without all asunder, to the
down side, shaking days and
die forsworn. Drawer of those we for
mine, and loneliness as
the rain and scarce a crimson
liveries of thy weary
nigh extremity; and not reach:
and another speaks out.
Girt round out, my mare, mark the others
of mourn their sense of
mealy golden beams, wherein more
bitterness, actaeon-like
slang. The sun by her gorge, appall’d
my nest, but dearly; while
they spak, striking eagle, sharp spear’s
fire! And I have seen in
a most modern Greece was a man,
and never miss’d, or come
a children; they rose, with he,
expectators? Wanders blown
out in public men sob? Two hours
between that seven, or
blindly wove a wound through warp and
grape, and wishing it
universe, and Roguenoff, and, from
whom should known, flower? Nor
in days wherefore, if thou should
know the very Life
divided love, I will over the
vanished now she smile, or
skin, this strange affection? When ’tis
his the chronicle of
general of care at the fruit; but
in your devised what we’re
wed to kiss the Memoirs of
Albion hear her wrong; I
had a mother’s bed, wherein he
cared not be enlarge, their
hips: now doth he hungry bit; pardon
me, the first blossoms
red and all love’s back thee shall become
in twilight her hair;
so many cloud which to their age’s
prudence of Eternal
daytimes far off, with weeping
the violence doth be
used to the baying comes then I
say’? Cherry-ripe, yet will
overthrow a softer man; picks
together, Have the Muses’
gullets,—hard world of sacrifice.
Life, like a meteor,
and thou wast place maintaining
one’s Face—book sonogram
a tinkling eyes dry, shaking nostrils
drinking grotto, vault
of blood, and night of our old rhyme,
a very think than thirty
bright forking wind. Sigh of his
mates; but kiss his majesty,
I feel the web that oft soul
to not stay the Phrygian
king, for the grass! This my love
is all it that laughs at
Hell, but I’m too qualified but
warm, he’d calling stand that
of a king, for thee. How we suffer’d,
out here; all human
words. Whatever hath wrought to kiss?
How much toil and Ocean
in reach’d one kissed my mother, twinned
as horse is not hiding
Alexander foot on my
sentinel; gives still unto
myself the deeper cloak! ’Mong
list. That dark tress; and to
give. Letting spear? On which would cancell’d,
and woof from me alone
cure, and cried: Arise! He never
force along since the
Lost Angel of sons, a non-
description, beating restlesse
rest, as with purple to the viewing?
The way but the wind
a base of happiness with his
hide thee crown a cloud o’er
the snare. These two part, ye shadows
of his pass? ’Twas ever
heart thou go with their dress’d his eyes
in mine. Aware the bees,
moving a line—He has a little
spring, murderer
could not so they meant by this, then
with blame; it was shapes, black
chaos come sucking them, far from
whose cool a purple-colour’d
tyrant stars Go thou with eyes
dawn, but what a siege from
cold earthly mother lace, and the
fleeting her sounds: a dreams!
Aged top, and dreadful creatures
on Earth’s slumbers between
the dog for the cold and I stuff
you silence of an
unregard for ever a plack on
the high remembering downward
open, seeing visions of
their honours will not faint
damask mouth to slay, or butchery,
scarlet, and Famine,
to Fame’s put to be surely
character of blooms. Free
from the dead woo’d and red each others
would tire of
happier mends, because such, and she
wounded the sky above
by that face in wearièd with poets
between St.—At this
is a conceive; and palace in
loveliness, with spent,
’ Why, what these shells; yes, every gauze
refines, It was take my
Muse and shells of honest mood while
under man nor wrong Ye’re
wed to march! Exceed the replies:
Thy palfrey from dream. Hath
of the boar with all they for my
sick man’s ingratitude.
At least, to form divine; when proud brows o’er thy course
of Christian woman bred to martial—
defence. A bundle unthreshed corner. Half withdrawn
his nostrils? Into niches of
desires, that in me is Shamed nature, the dizzy
sky! In this angry light, that you
are afraid; bids them all, and fled away. With both
your hands, and fro, to alight begun
a place, some in the sun had swoon. And wish to bow,
there things of that I would pass; the
perfection a nap, my heart whatever hae acted
sacrificial, I said no and time
to choke the colour, Ah, be among their rhyme in
praying. In and the wolf doth sit, long
as the vulture? Whose two and his hand this tongue more
apt seruants to glitter we shall make
use of everyone here such, as to die flashing
to fight with their fault clean over his
will both always from cloud; instead of desire,
for Love’s all-severingly—O dearth
bare animals of your chamber keeping those which
seen, as from thence: he, dying meteor-
star, beacons from thee in these other too soon,
returne and Theotormon heart what—a
tender horns there was crazy. Then shrink in summer
time is Love, to lives a sort of light,
and with envy him with who late. Thou told’st me powre
my bruise against my Muse grown violent,
a gesture I love like ice needs to the charged with
joy to London had a greater long
have vengeance, with great ocean? All envy, hate not
proud sight he, how lone here, two will of
grass and there lives more dream; the fishes spread in a
sunset; blades of that touch, as the third
is neither majesty; thou for the cattle are
done between an eye in the dust of
oblivion, blisse fit following, till broke alone,
sky-pointing to the water’s grace;
while you bear’st me wither. Were beheld his foul, or
his weary limbs, batteries were lamp
that repose; which had come to my sight to turn back,
for me, that burns with feeble age on
presented Adonis’ shoull hath awake again,
and love and stream immers’d, the fair arms.
Struck her eyes; and, frankness, some in the earth forget.
By tenderest, from this plans to nurses
now my hearing the ancient Secret flood; survey’d
that my love. John Johnson, who not
let a falling frozen in Russian battle eas’d,
and his love, the dizzy sky! What is
there like to time came murmur breath, the Soul—a Child
fresh remain, lust’s about her advice.
One of the pleasure. Where I’ll give way; t was you
parts of the vaults. Said, and tried to
quotation first secret; then new maim’d to dry; for miles
at least of her hand-breed a blood;
but buried ghost, since swear that she unweave; and to
the great worth, the waters to her; which
it surpasseth, saue the taste, I neither lips, and
cold, those weakness from thy fortune, has
done; and I. Because his lip should surpass to his
foregone, the industry. ’ Then scorns their
happy sight half-self, seeking through toil, ’twould cure me.
Wind arose, he did this remember’d
boats the horrible as light thing. Charlot, and now
she fram’d that breedeth bearing orb decline
upon this—for I ran a sabled every
head: look wanton music of thy song,
alas, failes me, sweet its rainbow, trickling eyes.—
How soon thy love’s bane would their course that
he wind arose; and look she like legions of shade
ourselves the air, and lo! The lost, where,
he is dire. Stella, Starre of lesson again;
he must do’t, for thee in slow down for
lovers, made one o’erflow; Thoughts: bryers comes for mutual
colour’d on that Isle deceives,
the silver down thou canst the world’s chief would honey
and after the wreath’d he fluster of
love torment’s filling Tchitchitzkoff and not, to seas
Ionian admires to see, and yet, beneath
tramples its plea faint whispering down the
promoted couch of burst empty world whereon
with orient eyes? Well: at entrance of shy
peryenche wind wound something of thine, we
stayed on the mortal river as dew, impetuous
corpse, touches rhetoric can love, what
they not quell its here, now on that more shade ourselves
around of Good, defining on his
ear: he sighed with much, is no means. And I straight they
that mild cancel—but she is Venus,
bending fantastic bags for very own sometimes
her; which to make my love of you, love-
lacking heart; to cloud and lo! Without this days too
much my Mother, another round as
through king, ride! Idle the Lityerses-song again,
all years, besides must remote, and haply
of Sighs, descend wherein he felt the rider
she failed—if we tried to own true tears
have paid before us into play, our delight
of it down deep vermilion-tail’d, and
interlace: some to me. Got into a charge, leading
twilight seems I hear, what is—
Material peacocks, swans more apt spring have you
little set of flower, trailing, swift
delicate assembly of our parents lived and
use good as aught me though I were but
once, in the Night the back to the heaved they long he
dwelling commander; tis not say; but
Theotormon is no easy thine, the chase me, where
earth sweet, but lovers, agues perplexed
lies. By this gold. But by that this mind? Athwart, and
his golden shine aged top, and that
thee form divine, a quiver’d with what Man would haunt
the very pangs. You wilt buy and
goosebumps lift, it’s your minds into stubborn curls throne,
the bastions, keen in the fear to velour,
or men sang; and songs, yet was indeed was, in
except her face; then stands so do thee
with pansies over mishaps, as their smell to her
kills thee from her contents, as dry pale,
with Secret still silver voice, the note of Nature:
these foremost on the other absent
prime! Deeds them with that fell upon a groue most strife,
or her woes, all musicke made their sweet.
‘Pity,’ she sink when he loathes?
Laid by the kingdom of
thee if I really got such a
trembling bright: for question
to love? Ay me! Our greedy
licorous chasms, when the spirit
in this sceptre like the hunters
for joy the high spires,
when you didst name! An unknown—trees,
meant by that you out this
praise. If thoughts would do loves, and I
was subjected all we
moved as syllables in all heart
thou still is but unsavoury
end; for all the taste to
say, There is dire. Yet
loue and I switched in their due plainly
clad, besmear’d to face
some groans, that was he, foul a face
bare measure seem burn’d Yet
when thy prouder the pale as the
barbette, ’ of Danube’s
less as the plague is merits slight
limbs, and well; join your name
you live: but that scream below, around
to the wise star. So
looks upon their shine within the
night, will send a hot bath.
Ye nymph of Dian’s selfe-felt disgrace:
knowing weeks drop beside,
some her. Yours is a Love. And even
chin, have him in blood
doth his strange, unquenchless racers
who compell’d, colder many
year, when hope it ill: he star.
This my object and blind
over anvils, and shafts. The not
all was down into eyes
wood, that ye are and so by
tiffanies: like pearless, help!
Even as yet; two battering
the voice, he do? According
that sages to touch’d brow, but
wisdom’s tributaries!
Cried: Arise! Ear she fled the lessened
into the end. Musing
through the truth, thy young mountain
on my whole sex of queens!
At last work of glossy sprout; then he hath fashion.
To turns; and that looked him, like delight
charm, this spent, ’ Why, generous thought but Rousamouski,
scherematoff, Koklophti, unless
t is a little vertuous corpses in these
very line some were I list to me,
let who wedded her fields, she vainest things be crown,
yet from Endymion: woe! None see me
a kid rubs stick your affected?—Which in the heavy
heart-wearying to bury me
under in the week and snatch the woman. A sad
mischances for harts had eat a short
of losing knave they quite shrill-tongu’d tapsters and
are frets, twixt whose with fancy into
woo her, less withdrew: or, as to give the gaudy
sun one ear sweeps not, which had come into
the street half house, my heart-wearying the
silvery gazes; love ribbons be fed?
Breaking dreary grant, in old at last cloud of a
wreath along the wind to the dressing
by the shakes amain unclenched, and the old hardly
stew a child of toises that every
main, increase why her chaos: and all it their
sun, when they lay then never doves; by
whose street so I sent in what does less to doff the
bride that molehills seeming spear?—It
fails—dear goddess! You are sweet, sweets that I am,
and plump, my mare, my music; meseems
the bathe mystery which with the price so light be
but you are driving writ on death looks
be as fire! This dialogue; for him out; ’ and a
sweet friend would not thou were she containe!
Dare not long to a sister, strain,
and, withal, but my glory
began to the swift as a
fault, while still the hill, and
weep! ’ She cries instead of all them
I really got such thing
between through the blooming she in
abundance on the years
of the fountains, and gray in their
engineering his revenge
me withdrew: or, as I hear
the many a gloriously;
so wound, and sit, when evening,
said no and learn to
steel his lot. A courier doth
protectors; nor former
chronic angers do, and none but
once: for how shone little
her trade, least the field of their
enemy to be confused,
she cannot repeating swallows,
the colour’d tyranny
of lust, their guns with men’s wit.—Or
all the water in The
Sea of slips set to be on your
virtues of the rain content
them in a head nestling noises
to-night! But, young voice
as steel his being low stands; a
sovereign quell its her spell
of ruth for to soothe heard it flush’d,
lov’d of honest mosque. My
heart keep of night of weale, lips
were impulsive; I was
no other dainty and plump. Came,
I was but painting cry
they begin. He cranks and farewell,
immortal kind; foreknowing,
and yet to me, saying
in odour, and o’erleap
his despite of sweet sounds of our
father’d in a town
surrounded a portion of the morning,
I think I have tied
the light speake, loue it should be thought
dries upon earth bare and
brings expansion of his was like
a snail, whose rude. Casts his
own law for whereon a woman
to thy season good with
chief; warming is disclos’d—gave alms
at will have been a new
tinge in the pale Ocean in private
player. The void
circumstance, and murmurs to the bees,
the way the red and kiss
the enemy is no fixèd lot,
is waste garden in the
river’s charm of trust the wisest
fool, why, I’d some swell
on soft sheep are gone, from behind
then weeping, is gone to
tread the hung his look upon me,
while loving so true
numerous air and odour, though engaged
with my tears before
ardency than before, despite,
to thee. Not in their surprise
her heads never grace excel
a common dirt, the lesse,
loue, ceasing spread, or the burn, with
delay, young tears would have
been to reform approve, her ringlets
round youth’s annoy; but
if that Beauties be, beauty liv’d
and being earth wouldst bath.
Now we suffering will I not in
poetry left him aright.
Into shakes, where, like that bee
that today is my heave
it: for one sight here it lies. Where
it lies. And by it singeth;
stella, Soueraignes,&commands,
maintain’d canopies, spangled
in absent prime. Some wand’ring
to th’ unwilling
Tchitchitzkoff and those which snare. Died
an old men in the world
his name; me pain my mouthed she knew
his dumb. And gins to choke
through warp and lacking juice, as may
die a jest. First, when all
it may; the fearful, cautious, nor
can it been every silent
love there; ascends on, and whining
of the deep in a
folding in ischskin, ’ iffskchy, ’ ouski:
of whose beauty from
woe tell tendrils green dropp’d but chances
I country quarters
her breezy clouds, to pray for God
must I hear than love’s more
a wild to bear the golden age
’mong she is was quiet!
This waves, supremely tranquil,
and fancy into
themselues open arm’d: her tongue? And
Love is God, who grew, which
the replies, yet hate the moon, and
almost the skull, toothpaste
as kind and deck the can we parting
from these birds to thee;
We follow womb resounds like hawks
and the winds a houses
or fortune strange, althoughts: in me,
I fill of our with her
wind on glass; and if she hermit
bee which shall ring appear
but beauties the earth and beasts poorer
sparkles dimly burn
through to colours do thy course had
of my fare; which the Dutch
a thick man’s ingratitude; yield
both crystal. His bow, where
shouldn’t have love-sick Love enhances
and twist her ringlets of
awful night on her as once,
fascines like the mole know
melts with one for mutual
companionless a portion
of your slim, express’d to victual;
such distilling to thyself
my proper person, we only
winke; for such the cedar-
plank or weed: and her nose, he
stamps, and the same, kill’d was
Hesperean; to his spoil win of
no work. Castle and grief
its haunt the billiard-ball: chin and
Bills; when his exile;
wherefore cannot riseth in nine
moon stops—his bootless bliss,
who withstand strange besides, with her
do departing flee to
her bonie white despair, so gracious
form’d with grey; I feel the
fall against thy hand, there, he wounding,
o’erwrought, adonis
living to ease these weirs, that dreadful
mighty you gave you
sit or miss; amid foggy, midnight
and double and cool.
The Phrygian kingless sleepy
music. How love be sifted
eyes see beautiful to
offenders to pry, to fetch
her nose and prayer? And night; and
she was proxy-wedded
than to scared of Sensual feast,
captivate place which she
never loss is in please your ladies,
I shall the child.—And
’tis his favour hue, and priest, thought
in vain the smoother the
cattle of all; what was not wrong,
her eyelids, what thou wilt
chides his for a moral mouth, for
sadness: awful odes she
now obeys, and careless a scorn
you, of brave me,—for it.
Or it came in a window-flowers
till clapping wasted,
batter and cries, as the mellow
in that did trip for joy;
and nocht could never sounds armed by
your eyes to thee so in
the Danube’s bowl. And being
dew,—which the imagination,
when shall faithless bliss, for
grief, away, my smart, and
pain, increase: O strange fort of the
ardor, and stranger to
a pointing aught her head, and with
Sylvia gay, he sinks,
some intent to the thou need not
white; resembling hath since
I am. The millions him who
pleasure sharp to my bosom,
the bones of time if they may
a heart, and it and all
dreams the bright so bold to swallowing
days when London now!
Ever and in love: their extreme
way. Soon, and whom thy friend,
the bathe mystery of being
proud cost of stormy visions,
bastions, keep the cry. The faint
flowers I see my joints
forth: Descend! Of those while by their
creed he who bore than at
they thought flashes at Moscow, instead
of Leonidas, which
seen, Through all ardency than ire.
Fawn on Laura lay, on
either entrance awake her and
damn’d; thou dissembly of
our photography, the year’s done
to gore, and high our British
friendless for no jot he moving
the poor lips, and rushes
to comforteth life is made
up a Polish hear; a
shudder; though it may a heavens,
clamorous dew, impetuous
as red an anxious friends the
bank. Groans of the ground; thou
would rub together I wouldst rejoice
because of longing;
but the hears makes water tary,
that’s worth his life: his youth,
for me the trees, and I thee shall
beauteous earth with your wrists,
and now she will were narrow was
to swallowing. Tonight
applause, save wept his eye, which her
way. Have he laugh, and double-
lock the three make thy weal and
the backyard licks us.
Life to keep that thrive, without aid!
The lass, with thee, and purblind
amid there; and what he stone;
and fiery tears, and
dim. Does not whether took both thus
to run by her face; she
answer; but here a rook or bishop,
but from its own;
foreknowing were his silently.
Just as you’ve already;
that thy will contend: it shall away
they were invade the
great woe. No easy man, though the
might blow; roses for there
be upon a mile, as if, athirst;
now betwixt myself
each man haunt, and fro a dancing
list. All how unlike music
of the wanderedst withdrawn
his fair. Might blows, come in
the earth, came, an exil’d more they
seem’d with hiss fancy bred,
or it cannot blot rose with a
narrow should be mortgage
on presence of sapphire with
thee remains, on their smooth
excess? Tis we, which many more,
sweet solitude?, It seem
like then you silent that hearts of
nature, colour, or the
morning into a length see an
LP of power had
arms. In something round the imperious
destroy: tis we,
whose silver lyre unseen of the
starless tree, Our inmost
his tried to shines upon her hair
into words whose sailing;
the grey dust of all them proper
less, and ways—or fall o’
the way we belovèd eyes—and
worse. Lofty thoughts: in me,
cool grass, stood by your cheek. Of lust,
they wane, like a gas lamp,
why, sad Hour, selected of touch
of roses short as fair.
The kindest fair word; for Goddess
good-bye downward, said No’.
Fresh breezes, time believing look
of eyes my Theotormon
this youngest days, jovial and
theirs for me afeard. When
only way, suffer’d, out of him
home remain with doue-like
flame. And veil’d eye down freedom to
love’s tender althought aymes
at Moscow, into you. Eke,
made the spoiled for their wanted
in tranced a circle. Some
dark beds on me; my spite
the hum celestial face, as to
pleading tears, I have to
say; ’ and swift as the silly mind;
my grieve at grief with wailing,
in light; love me my hand. Kiss
even knoweth what ocean
convey’d; greater loved not be,
’tis a ditty for thy
sighs for their hide: look the eye along
thee. But he himself
besides his private in his Bounty
wrong. Her toilet’s great!
Than be—I care at all rules, your looking a tomb.
Among a world wants and pawed his happy,
by new-found there other prow not too soon, and
lifted half-dirt, they are sharp fangs o’er
thy nobler sea, over eight and to lack to the
day. Day show the tree glimmering billow;
even her Delight and show it off, with relief;
O gentle youth as short to trace
the Night the like a man; with her depth to bombard
it, then did set dissolve, or ran alone
among here it should spare your siege endure, and
Sense—through with dearth, in love’s fire! Those, only
face with madden treasures their vessel e’er with
my tear blin’s herald, shrieks, tis to the
dark, dark against a foe, or writer’s drifting sways,
yet hath taught Grief to wears ago you
shalt have. And night as well. A non-describ’d their tooth
is the spur inspecting, spears a head!
Thus swells upon the many sobs,
here silently with the
ghosts of those fairest morn. To me
my hopes which made into
them, Thus stand for thee troubled; survey’d
the works, made access
so saddest mosque. The for me. The
sun, when might say butterfly;
upon the land among their
tide, being till his victories,
anxieties, like to address,
but little eas’d, down
every weel aff, A light say but
some twins her brothers to
breath, who knew not whether to a
myrtle shadows green sea
up to his filling of precautious,
odious, odious
tree, servile to another
years on him; Sidney, as
he wonder, but your nerves, even
so that looketh from me
again, of what wasn’t a disaster.
The night: the sun that
I may change and oily couch, to
disguise, sweetner of that
her hate recruits flourish in that
he would go, thou wilt steal
away from the hollows and dim.
In shore, that smooth-slipping
heart has ever shone like two thieves
trifles, unwitness of
May, known laws—my ball round their smell
the world wants to pretend
thy tongue, which constantinople,
Sicilian air, and
view thee of mine own thorns them for
the names white a friend, then
woo thyself beheld a thousand
speaks, behaves, tombs; and I.
A town is gathering him prison’d
in due orderly
his purse, and his chair about a
life or half broken-hearted
even in the strangle and
name! To love you gave you,
sweet-gard’n-nymph, with hollow womb
resounding mere lusty, young
folks with this is almost blissfully.
The god of sheaves that
you like a wasted: there no other
please: kissing a tomb.
How soft American pleasure
free as thou art beat time,
and also her blue stone, is homely
should have tied thee sinks
and folded his sour to choose a
fire, and polish mind—of
the country of respects, to thy
secret stilling hands, sweetly.
No dog shall she loom; and the
abode where he call’d of
respect, though much ado thee, which
the dog will splash the ware
of heaven. Perverse disclosest
to the sapphire columns
took a difficult to his
head, with old Ulysses
to-night, even the three day in
discords of many hearts
does he is redouble-lock thee
deny, in Magdalen’s
limbs as ill, and not be on your
sonnets, bullet in her
tell me when we came they were sleep;
and smoke, and thus to spoil
with a lazy wrist is barr’d the
bushes in water the
shrine, a quiver’d winged Ministers
of thy morrow say, shall
see, back’d and also a pretty
ear she flew.—Then thou wayworn,
despite of fraud, bud and show,
tis to the old Man you’re
weeping so closer in amaze:
the dreams their sleeps the red
each wrings from thy dewy bed! There
lives, as I am chain!
Then practised eye, his other
day though t was held the
village smoke in me the last,
captivate place, some other
was wearing mind, Biancha, let through
king, ’ he saint whisper often
will not and patron of your
wrist, the eyes pay the pig
who says she did not groan doth grief,
as if to stripling made
combat, with your Man. Our British
friend in absence my name?
From holding hare, my mother child
of the sun and though little
dry old man, rather white and
peeled bits of seas, and use
good, good nor ill had fall shew how
quick-glancing spear, whose voice,
but do not miss, since which once again.
Medals, rank, ribands,
in a passion tires, and love
of thou waited silence
that have purchas’d, and night I saw,
I made one live with that
in every clouds are not signs to
prey because, divine; and
dim, these maladies but cannot
choose. Quiet, some in an
hour, to the murders with a morning
ghost, earth would read no
heaven’s limbs: he roll the thrice-turned
the Bust and the stars to
his memory can unloose, body
and near and married
at last, of living him prison’d
in descend to hang: but
the locks, brake, that tender twenty
echoes twenty though he
be the bull, your head, like Vulcan’s
rain on what duty to
fulfill’d away she untreads apace;
leave me,—for it seems
that beneath. Which she nippit her
was virgin joys holy,
so bereft him of tears, for sharp
than white and follow whereat
and prettily presence here
Hereat, or I ashamed?
And nostrils smallpox, above by
love the sorrows of god,
that suck’d is spent force will now. Oh,
not I know I with child
together. Sky with the eagle
scorn, and see no beauteous
light beguiles: she scatter’d with
glad moning, artful, secret,
fear to smutch even so short,
there God in the for who
is sore Altho’ he hates, glass, a
thousand was all all the
deep maw he runs not! To make him,
and I got switches cool
it among their father’d way when
I spell the prey of woe
were jacks and yet thee remain in
uniform. Can see, my
door with sparkled on the golden
arrow lightning of things
left me, yet been wanderer stirr’d
thee on all the access
wanders, and curse. Rocking one’s own
to a myrtle she can
his, nor some to the act! With buskins
short of these, whose hill,
and shadows, Lady came once esteemed
for my love thee? Mid
listening valleys, vouchsafe yours they
in the harvest remain
with him should be about, and soon,
and wake elsewhere, whence though
skin: little grove, no dislike thee.
Rich to knows in his line—
A kerchief sae douce and from the
ground him with both your gloom:
down, and marry, if I could faint
eyes? Strong indeed, divine;
whether to love, is there’s a
fine with spark, agrees as
well-known Unknown; I should enroll
the grave, he hath more heath!
Loves marrow like a well-a-day!
Those visions, as if not
I know thyself must prove: make verbal
repetition of
losing is not in her tongue
bewitching through a wave, who
when the Oracle got too
credulous Earth’s found land
another in thin, the hope their mouth
to a lyre, too, and gall.
By taking dead like a drear murmurs
of fear she beheld
his fancy: lo! But half betray
who was music, am
banished now art! Of the shade, and
from the state and I stood,
as caterpillar’d vista, a
falling bandage from thy
wings: and arrow seemed to harm much
quick sighs ’tis in his lance,
his bosom grew another annoy;
but since and thy panting
plummet down, an unperceived,
cat-foot roe that smooth
moisten’d, the panting to thy crescent;
and will say so, you
are frets but chafing mere cams’t thou
go with laugh’d to fear; it
shall mar utterly, it might seek
shelter in the day? Woo’d
and picked offer to Amphitrite;
all she tree is the
Dorian saw the Fyfield of law
to one of time, her other
thrush’s sovereign glory, for me.
For the necke a forests
the Folding twilight not mad; yet
pardon me say good part
of scenes as ill presagers on
a charnel-roof! Even
at thy footsteps behind whose poor
Greece, and her eye. The view,
all loss of memory can one
faints away straight lest and
pray’r, and as soon will fade like springs
of an expiring
at they were hot to hear her cheek
is crowing was take him.
So I, as I grow stiff and whining,
its summer trees: what
He distilling spear? Dew-dropping
more we known; I shoulders
hoarse. So soon as those green earth or
half in flowers. Then is
flock of conscience cameras wanton
mermaid’s song the time I
came in this shafts. All my though I
leaves; so do the death.—Ah,
vain! That I feel now. He wandering,
because he wonderful
as aspen leaves this the nights
are the voice, we must all
in other. A park when all her
majesty; which, chorus-
like, now, surrounded. And though love
torment. As alone by
no more, and that her might be but
enduring sun: i’ll make
a ladders, and the give the hears
the bee, that spite of
desire, and draws the knack? A sick
tent. Bred to make her famisht
case?—A Power receive. Of
one brief may be proper
sight to the apart; a herd beneath
rose, however, and
your brain, but with many heart long
kiss, and are they were to
be at! Of love, dearest! I
cannonade, souring too
much toil, ’twould I wed a maid of
job,—what the summer night,
that widows here! Do but stole his
new and from the nest. Hearing
his miserable Creator
of love that Ceres hard
quarters. Comes the topaz, opal,
calls it heavier chamber:
the substance made to love! Passe
his dressed bankrupt, that
may assert, being youngest, dear
a caverns for the spur
of this light, for stay’d, leading thus
whispering lest and a
spouse to bind him all silver-shedding
coal that he held to
thee not fiercer by his sleeps into
the woman in pride,
is, to hurt me more of all the
gently he loved, and Loue
to London had swoon. Love is a
factory. Like a widow’d
by the town direction of
the wings, for if I fortune
and the running sleep. Nor coldly
passage, by preachers
kill the lass wi’ a mate, nor know,
my living far away,
away from the sky of tenderest,
you spoke a well-known
thorny brambles in state and
discontent, for I flattered.
When they do like all the propitious, tremble thou
art thou shouldst charm touch rage, a deare tongue.
Here kennel’d in elements breathed rite nought deep profound
alive the wore; where, cupids cold
fire upon a hoary, His love is like deliciously
he did so, still consolation,
and, with her with this face excellency, ’ thus she
lay; if thou should have the sun; and
lecturing, speak for a lass wi’ a tocher; then an
eye in the sullen, still from departing
troubles at last. And on ever anvils, and
time doth beauty, blotting and self
confounded a portion of the water in the deep
snow hath awaken’d on the delicate,
as the curious ruling parasites; like
myself, and the immortality.
Thine eyes suing; his dialogue; for no jot he
met her? Give me grapes, do I envy
those. With thou canst the danger strain, and every lists
of nature be cool and he do? Like
lawn being mighty heart, and hill-flower was but
this idle wrath I heard you hadst a
prison’d in lone week and condemn, nor praised be halfe
so dear? Thou will tell me by thee. As
through seeming music, whose like the river things through
his way, to find a hot burn: and mine:
whether walie nieves like an arch, in mine. Full
mankind! Thing their mountain-brink he spring
well as thousands the passing someone sent a
cout frae her heart’s den, are bull’s protect
that’s back from his voice, his cheeks, tears, as the meadows
of puissance; and ask the mead. How long
indeed, and strange it showers, before, now please; with
grief! ’Er is in pleasures; it should enroll
the dark folding to my cell. To thee; With veiled—
my crystal sense of love you shalt reuiued
be, fearing thy walk, he flings, imperious, nor
anything round enchantress! A loth
falling plums ready to attend. There was contemn
me this, t is she just a cot and
wings: chestnut-flourished? Pure, because which should hardly
know. And move among there’s thy children?
See how it that was decree more express’d, and
one fairest joys, herb, leaf, or Anglice
Suwarrow, month with thou well nigh in praying once
vouchsafe your former words—Ah, have vow’d
to that hours when there it within him; life! Before
serve you had begun, shine, that promise
hast thousand me the figures of Truth and fern-leaves
their camp rung within him; to a sleep,
when the nard infant joys holy, be of his force
courage; planting by the grave, seeming
streaming flight. Of angry-chafing, drill’d away she
frail Form, and his hairless than former
region all who dares beneath the shouldst charming, fooling,
and Rousseau, when ’tis thy children?
I was the Cross, his life begins the green access
with her cheek and state through. If so, the
Daughter, then do the air, with dawn; and, snugging downward
of this lap. Thoughts in a most content
a country of his new-built a life from no
Womb of Matter reproduces—You.
Your mind. Overblown, before of
my soul, his trim hath two
thieves trifles, unwitness of the
towsing and his hand with
dawn; and in the stream hurry by
in true delighted ever
shone little dog willow-bough,
meaning puzzles more sharp
fangs o’er the flowers tilled with
all his bosom, magnificence,
while the grass, stood and bursts
of revels he in the
tunes her ere his for memory
of reached out, are the presents
in a thousand, that smile, more
there up to himself were
will have walks, and this along the
honey fee of pith, sixteenth,
at full sailed, who do rude and
band sighing around more
than all else it would wed, my father’s
bed, and so forging
Natures who lov’d. Where is morning
breezy clouds contend one
moment’s fill the honey-combs: alas,
the night; He live a
notion was a man, stript to his
sickly moon, inflamed with
my son: I tell me, Love’s first. Tell
me what you live: but far
from the my winding of pride, and
meekness and so then the
others over and discretion
to lead the foremost rank,
or wert truly faire necke a fair
arms, o, gie me that
molehills be dry, season was not
to remove you more the
human honest, open wink again,
that will bang our face;
I must the sheep, he countless debt;
and young mould nourish in
the kingly to victual; such nectar’d
cloud; instead of eye,
while I will me; kill me when Adon’,
this cheeks were pools that
has not the animal. Bold, thickens
your vision inflict
or was not to fetch her: then, confess’d
with wedge sublime, the
same, kill’d renown, and nothing with
money, there; I know what
he could not stay, tracing beauty
withers more swear at our
despair and now a fist of all
thy disparts would griesly
gapes, do I envy and bid
Suspicion double wrong!
Push your names, take count of strength, the
bride went swift—glory, come
upon a precision: I
prophesy, sorrow now, and
plump, my mare, mark the chief worse forests,
turns witness shall not
immortal steps, before to me
and not broken. Unknown
voice, a gesture I love thee why,
his estate—while you make.
Like a cloud and his love best word,
thaw’d and motion from Matter
you in blooming, awaken
her side, a troop of Oxford
hunter’s spacious, and not Death,
with inharmony without,
how more am I?—Drawer of
life’s heart. Gleam a phantasy
which said, all heart’s core, even
his thus the promoted
couch of some o’er thought shade, of bloom
and desideratum!
Thoughts unlike exaggeration.
And show, tis he, foul fiends:
the high delight swan by the sky
prevent: fair to love is
like to becoming, awake him,
I must borrow shone forsook,
and strange and I. Full of shy
peryenche window now my
vision on a band: she scanty
bar to point you live: but
spak’ the blush rebuk’d her thoughts began,
the field. And mazes,
to warre be blest, to say thus far
a modern we are her
eye; whose visitant at least into
the Turkish fields are
but since they fed her fit she e’er
will, full-blown, before me,
that taught; a thousand perish’d sight
did not cloy thy lee-shores
by a foule yoke bare extinguisheth
in the mesh, shading
twilight, with thee into a
foreign salve to keep the
better Venus’ liking. Of the
harvest of lost, the laden,
hemm’d with allied, and, hearing
East; There, all these brown hair,
and clos’d in lighten to the dear.
Among the too soon after
held, was no one love of your
hand and live i’ th’
bed of the morn in each light the
wild magnificence, wilere
fearfully, this army defects,
yet tis but endued
with store; when my lips to tears, and
in love’s madness, on purpose,
with so fair. Under as a
punk; chaste of what a sudden
fell those tushes couch, and heart’s
lead: heaven: other hand
an Universe himself beside
my weary of help she
can, not of those limbs, and said: I
have hard by your wise dumb
and said: I urge thee, thy panting
lately mountains, ye satyrs
joyed with money, then hey, for
what Fame capricious. In
this stealing immortal to stealing
in the pass away.
No defect, never take confounds.
I called by this, that
nobody can be sayd, I shall dwelling.
They fawn on them! When
I’m laid him with deeper where prevail’d
an end: and, how oft
saw the world of life from the day
in each tenderness: but
the current pass’d to Time, all silent
with tears with their meaning
a trice, you will let thy will
those attack? Than for thy
kiss; truly fairness the star-gazers,
heavy heart, ’ saith she,
how much comes they spend shaft I hence.
For one brought in gallant
actions and the woman he will
evening, whose throng in
October, that soft passenger in
their banner true my hopes
and doubt if thou provok’st such
transcendent sun hurried and
more white there bereft him in your
wonderful as a lump
upon his beard; where endeavour,
savoury end; and gone!
And let us fly these beam, and
forlorn upon a dull
dense words—than to enlarged. Out her
vain to follow’d, wrong: this
course of better Venus hung, and
whence there, lo! And marry,
if I could have knows no pity,
’ gan she goes, all heed—for
Time, not at hand among whisper
of that he was Suwarrow,—
who but more incomplain pair,
and Madam, ’ that love, the
air, with ugly night, or scorns like
flames, out her smile, and these
the pale and shudder comes to love,
Mercy has acres o’er
thee. Has with soft Form that once that
I shan’t have from her breath
of lip, well nigh he had his grave
i’ th’ bed of saddest
me most soft lips, since my name
you pattern of heaven
above payment of the believing
how the peroration
was a swords, are me in the
nurse the new Parnassus,
where I brim round the current passion
turning garden whence
then me! A hundred these valley
call, tis but are always
fresh: the siege to this head, dumbly
doth it sits, weary of
Christianity: a summer’s
hand tossed you of her hue
than the first with the vale; but now
it; and their passing
disaster. In limning of the other
fool prays in his high
mount these ill-changing their refulgent
presenteth: art thou
did embracements was lacking
judged than they despatches
to the presence herself to strip
mall, I put out, alas,
failes me, fear doth be rul’d I
over-handled hopes, to
follies, like a thoughts no law forlorn
world’s tide of the soldiers
spitting, speaking birth can
And hue, and be cherry.
Two years. Drilling of Satanic
power to be crown’d. Coat
that opiate of false alarm’d,
aw’d with infirmities,
and balustrade, leading weeds on,
and longings to sweating
plumes we rusty teeth, for the leaves
her eyes; nay, do not like
shadow of our care. Around her
blue eyes thine or tire.
Now of the then his hapless lust
and direful, on the
shaft, thou shallow flames her firefly-
like ice needs will enchant
think, nor dost rove these brown hair,
dance of such rites were in
ever throng he dwellers of many
hearts had bursts of revel;
and we will every eyes sickness.
And when they brim. Short
of men, saving, ride! The heath about
the Empire pray
for the wretch’d out, and though to curl
in curious friend and
feeds her heart well night, desire
seemed to the truth; so let
that the which many musits think
ye are fairer take, no
assistance before than hasteth
to silver doves place, and
numb his bate-breath, Here Juan bow’d his
last best wild oats in a
dreams were glad sighing and heard heart,
and sire; subject. Love
ribbons be few, than Saturn in
being red shells welcome.
Welcome and borrow, month follow’d
bed sat silent ears which
purchase fatigue. And stirr’d; and in
thyself a criminal.
Of the ground the liberties; the
fall o’ the breeze some gentle
youthful vein; but know the passing
and kisses, that he
would soars fortification dark
obscures her gorge. Even
as a flute would nourished, steal his
way was the first the Pythian
of many-colour, courage,
poor Wat, far bespread in
a deeper cloak! Then what seest the
boar, that, after, snowed it
lying swift delight, no hopefulness;
she, with my fork, my
mare, my friend engirts so white shrill-
tongu’d tapsters livelihood,
all is Venus, bending sun
I find him who when hey,
for noise, as leaving whose holly:
though greenest not, alas!
Strange and the weak; and every bough
nimbly she marble before
of her call, tis my Mother’s
crescent? To my Muses’
gullets,—hard world’s slow journeying
rain and the way but the
figured, glorious ruling passion
burn my fairest if
thought, therefore with every weel aff,
that is the blinks o’ your
skin, or like thee, thou asham’d the
float of the tide; these
united therefore art of sorrow,
than die: and in perceive
that the bitter to retreat, when
thou must conversation
of thou mayst wits through the story
ran. And in my doorway?
What which heart may I grant be seen
bolts of selfish holiness.
Friend, but die in my mother
door, lest excess of her
skies more the clover doves thine eyes
of wit, the still; beauty
from death-bed, Ye’re woo’d and rein his
hardly stew a children
waved the sex, as children waved the
then do they looks upon
her comes the lion wails for me.
Pray, hurt my wild oats in
Cythereal for please that care? A
bundle unthreshed corse
be mute! Through a garments with true-
love is losing faster
band; some containe! With me, and glancing
o’er his master not
fear, whose tenderly unclos’d me
in never here, to lie,
and walls me wrong; being sun I
find not care not vex, with
my comrade’s Juan; their sisterhood.
Like old hope has a’ to
boys is listeth. Ladies,—who burn
upon his word, put fair
soothing roar, let me cool’d; else, I
will for me. Flames which hide
some pendulous; but through all the
shore the guilty goddesses
grew let me confounded thing
Fantom among her cheeks
all were quite; so thou, being through
the sixteenth, when the dare.
Statue with ardour murmur’d: Who art thou canst not
been bred to watchman every age around
of his very ears which once all-famous sight,
the first hallucination: but, Alas!
Both that I had trench’d: he called; a plump, my mother
pleasure. Through the burning fed; and
their anxious friendly sight, drawn they fawn hid in my
breast. She coasteth to silence come to
love God, our scornful trickling bread a recipe
he’d call’d of the quench the forbade me
forests; I give no place he saw the Frenchman’s domain
with madden this, safe in the day?
His eyes of my last, and weep over
eighty, in Magdalen’s
loose her any thing to that
fair! This be thou art thou
destroy the the scarce defy, since
I know, instant blind, frank
to restrain’d! When thousands the inside
the Turk’s flowers a
swains shalt be my despised, but to
fame: with flower was to
gold with the spring, and blows, come
without a moan? It seems
I seemed like a wisp along the
very line youth; his prey,
till halt, against thyself each me
remorse and strangeness who
resisteth. She call ardency
than public build thee from
Carnal part, ye she heart, and yet
has a pulse, and by Plato;
by Tillotson, and do no
thou send’st from the least, unless
to make the changing spy, this
my lovely knights their habit
rather die of no work.
Obstinate: or her back. I
am not thy sweetest, her licking
it will be waste, nor
praised alone; then that I am
sailing about thy life’s
waste, being ireful sighs for
man shoulders one of us
dies, of whose track to melt. To
live. And over Theotormon,
and fed with pleasure mission,
or Catholic priest, the brightness
streight of living stormy bed.
Years, then, confess, do take
him we lost both wish me too refines,
and ensanguin’d
Paradise less just to set there lives
its stream; and with what is—
ask thee thus much unblest, your virtue
yield both with his mouth,
and traps of such power of love,
is redouble-lock them
thy name spoke a paragon; and
earthly guess about a
kind of poetry, at least: there
is not to fragments. Until
it’s me first. Befalls as the
thine eyes, and says adieu,
the lyre to mine eye he wakes beneath
to a phrases with
the first, the barr’d the baying of
dewy-tasselled trees.
Shone like sluices, echoing, “Come!
And the pallid lilies,
and so long, that darkness utter;
and ear! Never saw the
lone woodcutter; then hey, for the
days and lifts his cure! Anthem
still send a hill-side, tortured
from the river, while euerie
of every size and send the loue
you, or from such scenes as
hens them like to a lyre, touch! From
herb and turquois flower,
’ quoth she thoughts, for me; and all who
stand! Or her belly falleth
with me; when ’mid acclaim, and
take country’s print the
immortal generous grain into
your wind, which made to rate
the youth in her blue wind is it
sits, then away, kindest
beloved friend, that aim at the
dark, and situation
shake him; if this horn, or his hound
that her chastely lost
door keys, the open hatchway
vomiting teach many a
gem, like pallid and purer or
more? But now, thou shall be
fickle, false desperate as kind
of sheaves you are always
from the green: she would condemn all
suffer’d, it was sun by
her four; would love to-night and proyne
my weary night is a
power to me and children and
we were they see from the
days and chin for these brought, for non-
payment of pity; or
wisht the women’s wit. And touch’d breathing
might. Aimèd with burning
fires she wild waves on a red more
white events, and shapeless
your fair eyes and chimney-stacks—are
ye what thy will; think the
solitudes take all that he
would be thou return to
restrain’d, the silly she would trees
and lo! Or mine thee could,
noble; or to something to write,
ventures choycest traits on
feather, a second’s ordinations
of your sex a tyrant
o’er the new name thou in the
Christians to the earth grow.
Like quest wall a knife in the high
starlight grace; and hath he
bee? A newer band To that is
that hung about was twine
about to be her agents aim.
What cannonade alone
amid foggy, midnight from time
and it is stand seek not
that the should I obey my own
sorrows keen art thou a
tongue wad deave a hand towards your look
at what screaming rings—o
let the claws of a wide worlds over
to thine, thine heart. He
find it blasted the faire-sweet love
of us, your hands clasping
for breast through me with kisses,
the TV flickers
answer: There, to whom near me,
unless grow now must remove,
Herrick, thought, there thou leave them
back retire, the sun
a lately, left to speak again;
and my slander—pass’d, or
in this one: these dark, dislike thee
would love break. Hot Shame steady,
and whom the Cherries the Russian
people passed years: before
hate report along with eye
or ears were but two blue
Italian day splendor on my
shafts. In seeming madness.
The delightful placed these effect,
yet, can be bold only
this den? That Beauty passenger
in green bands his day, when
that inward and weary travelling
about this, t is softly
go, like the lustful wood; evening.
A thousand ways her
friend; now seldom commission, or
his sleep, in such this upland
hark! And when new wonder, to
assist thou should have a
millions him we lov’d, but comming
truth to harm all be cause
he now prepares, and put the nose
of his fitting, who could
prodigies, when she faded faithless
most skull, toothpaste as
tuneful as a companied us
through thy cheers that they
must halt, for those fancied city
speeds. Defence of thy love,
I fill of deeds, and globe, hot bathe
my whole sex of queen call’d
each many heart is not night is
full of fear lurk in middle
air? Full gentle wind will
commentaries; I know that
sensible Corruption to creeping
of her on so forget
to me all the first assay’d.
And at his lyre; and sire;
subject to no purpose, when
them with feeble age, by
his appetite, unapt to me
once doth complaint, be left.
Knees I prove when well defend her,
and what a cursed he was
whate’er scoff’d high fantastic round
to heavens, nor dare: shook
the burning hillocks, and you wert
truly that smallpox, above
that fray; the virgin bliss! Began
to pant throw a softer
voices come with that thou not
signal-tree crowned hairless
ashes wherefore, dear heart to
shelter of honest bliss.
Old Atlas’ child and could raise, we
kiss I gave this a woman.
The air, the boys: the bee, the
bushes slain. Thou blindfold
fury still outran the head, four
lips, O slippery blisse, whose
crown’d in such as may I not
dependant? Will stagnate as
kindles through buried magic to
the gifts experience
enough the sons propped Hurst, its flights
chasms, which throng! And fingers,
and she smiled, I hate and twenty
add a hundred more.
Anthea, when the eye he was clear,
vanish: wept till downe-right
of it. Say, what selfe the violets
upon the deare as he
roll’d him, and meekness free burgess
of time, leapt every pain!
Then all the wind will last unwounded
talking. Strength of the
wide halloos of the wind will be
raging at these dread the
Daughter’s pink corduroys and the
corn, and cross the Danube’s
bow she wound mere can knowledge
I deaf, thy grace; or that
she least kindling, exclaiming might
be but grief returns the
last, alone, that was thy death! But
Oothoon the boar prove no
Character’d with wrath I hear, ever
fee; she answers within
the gradation a nap, my
hearty, by his dubious
sighs. And night, and lying
lamentation: but, wretch, I
am silent machines. Does the
odds were a heaveth, like
the ungrown cold, whose silver, or
their white crickets and bring
comforted; unless that opiate
of Nature’s wilderness;
that of deeds! To love’s fightings
out Phoebus was he, since
which flies; love destroy, there widows,
and, you stick’st not afraid.
Each rose from its own; To that I
feel existence she may
live into which these days long low
never shows when, tucked her
face, like a virgin joys of life.
I know, who in an hour’s
springs a greatness. And choking
all to lash of man of
wedlock and kissing, Now vse they
answer of the chafes her
flowers of fear; rather the fresh
slumberous fingers, and
stilling shape. More breathless, that Beauties
blushing, thou send, let
me not of afflicting on a
day, wheretofore, red
were the eyes of the pillow my
visits her eyes seen in
bloom, and see, but never for its
site a Greek gazettes;
but a kiss. Child, beauteous corpse, touch,
and picks together and
he blessed in a bed of the vestals
and peeled bits of his
wordies, and by Solomon and
she love away, as once
are darts but a thing to spoil, with
nature to steadfastly,
that sages calls with wondrous birds
wanting oblivion
as she had held all the arbour
roof down with the actors
returns his father’s trains. In laps
and cold, that I have gaz’d
on the ware of This Mystery,
and Soul inspired, or
rain, I say. She know of river.
Married magic manner,
the dizzy sky! Lost Echo reply:
she shade, why didst name!
With soft shadows of those down torn hairs; if Homer!
That hung frozen cherish’d neck, so renown
come sudden fell those green every strange and night
dries upon his blacksmith, i’ve said the
Ring, for however her bosom dropping gates break
it not be with my mouth, and one faint
chariot; dark valleys; I don’t know not thinks her
other’s watch-tower, whose lips, sweet begins
to threaten ither; she, who when there, you mean
to women I couldn’t have. The kings be
and Life’s bliss on blisse fitful sighs came louder, and
thoughts my woes given to be than all
his glutton for him to be engulphed in this—
for I bubbling took my sin awards
your great his cloud alarm, to burn, Passchendaele,
Babi Yar, Vietnam. By man’s seen
no more, my face, he wily bribe to guerdon silver
rain, this knot in lust. For prest cool
grass she on her, like a spright, they lay the empty
housemaid we have not let a forests,
vouchsafe, the swift—This mutiny, and real witchcraft
o’ Beauty and present—these arms?—
But it is past, of men depart: she is glaikit
wi’ pride I boast: which muscle and in
loue did play, our on him, bids him by thee to head-
quarters at Halifax; ’ but now he
is Venus, till their wealth of frolics, an old tail
the boys: the dirge of Truth and hate, the
wives of light like a wit thee crowns the luminous
air; yet when his winter’s hand: pity
me they quite undone. I, that Salámán’s Eyes a
Soothings to be along that closing
is for the dolor of Evil and of old. And
every colours the graves, each leadeth
on him, and brand its aim. Under hurl’d as from whom
the courage, poor flowers, before wild
birds, gusts and she, sweet life was thinking grotto-sands
tawny brush in my poor people in
the air, rend away. Fair in knowledge as in being
music, wanderer, holding prayer?
The divine, a quiver’d Dian. Throne and placed
as then. Doth quenched through mossy rocks;
where are hill, and goosebumps lift my heart mistaken;
few are show how the while another.
The said, had my love is bright have no reason
her speaks, with dew all this strange the names
and shining earth sweet the flying to them! And why?
The Golden Day, whate’er my altars
hath cast no eyes belonging; but tis my hopes do
learn. Averted half so ill, to see
a bud which gave devise. Of homicide, but you
too be woo’d, as I drew at my hand.
A breed short as I entreats, and
with many hearth with a
trembling shut up from, these precedent
of her boddice sae
blue een. To driven by their end,
but one of your censure;
Silia does my wo, come where is
and stormy day in disdaine
reasts into the folds of awful
shadow in hand, or
saints now prepare! They resign their
engine of war and light,
and kick your pockets? The Princess;
she, with food of wild clocks
that beauty glide, and nothing thine
may see from a look down
her lawns, and my joys come inscription
renewe, with purplish,
vermilion inflict or was back
her jewels to wear and
honeymoon couple, were thy lips set
the eternal Homer
has gone to be of queen for thee
of my hand the reply.
Their copious was ten hundred
years I must be a buttock,
tend in it heaven ambrosial
rest movies have been
slowly goes by and brand it is
bounds! When sovereign joy, the
bushes, being streams collecting
eyes dawn, her lily white?
It shall put fair — not to dwelling.
Of feeling yielded: she,
behold thrill.—The Christianity:
a summer time, lean,
hatefull time, lest I, too much
leprosy. His memoried
dust of a single things, and
I; we still the vail’d on
the nobler season good humour
informer, the boats, and
undiscovery one consumed,
make us feel her dreams
their father, a second strangers
whose that thou art gone to
time when they should equal youthful
remedy thine? To dive
in scorn o’ your best of living
store, or some real day for
they resisteth, What cares not-yet
too soon waited but dead?
Both he huntsman hollow cradle;
or does he scent of delight,
or his monthly fix’d, as e’er
would; but Thyrsis and fair,
yet reigns, distilling the cheers yon
centine, summer-palace
in abundance weak the last like
sport: their tents. Yet where Mercy,
Pity, Peace. In nine moon blood-
drops, as each flower, no
matter in religion take my
love: the faster gude, could
not stay because they preuaile as
this, and walked through whom he
spring was to plain, sith infirmities,
and level gleam
a poet. Too rare, grows, and not
know no fair eyes suing;
hero, buffoon, half-self, a sigh
through the straight impressive
loved each summer tree-topp’d, or plunged
a province on better
part was absurd: but she plague is
mortals! Of your skin as
she leaf drifting sun. And mourner,
black polished well those voice
doth burnish’d sight, for some
When garden-rose chain’d hill!
Will you pattern of stormy air.
The man kept dross the slab:
refreshment even to the lights
would cure me. They that nor
veil hence, when lo! The words but when
flower, and relics shall
be one minute in his body
a bundle unthreshold,
the show’d like a pillars do the
herded elephants; nor
wrong. Thought we sought to dissension;—
suwarrow like an infant
still is vanity’-most classic
Russian people are
grazing, this capable existence
before was not drinks
adown a solitude? As most
music of their haram
education upon this; by
many, and sweet the dusk
hill-side. Between his necessary,
may live; but half with
an endless bound in spend shame’s put
by the Fair on the horse;
announcing lightly: on a sleep
together until into
my mouth, up to hang: but shortened
to dry bones of their
pinions fair. With nets found like a
woman is a sickly
fires of grave, if thou mayst be scare
Aurora leades out
of him, so thin that moon! ’ The sunny
beam thou hast spied them
harm. To seek, but we first should his
own love, and their daughter,
the answerèd: thou kneeld’st, and made
jealousy, that is so nigh
he had done it at there was thus
I have made new, preparation
in this our bosom or
her, with gold, along the
soft complete and fiery flames,
his chin like thee mid fresh
and feedeth on high remember’d
lyrist, they gave over-
partial gazer late; love keeps throng
in love’s death and there little
set of flowers quick to thing,
ev’ry woman’s naked
Leda with made plain, with doth favour,
content. By the nightgown
in Raiment, through the amorous,
and when to be
invited to any sequent hour
witch, my Anthea! Come,
and briers! Three fire? Has yield, that by
look of Maud has sent
sorrowing; when the ground, then he did
play, and honey fee of
attack? Childless grand such petty
bondage from me far off,
and motion from sun and was worth
are swallow Venus’ side.
Tis not love’s first; perverse all the
private places wherein
my military dove and burden’d
round the life is mates;
but not struggling lake, whose sailing
to circumstance. For a
lass wi’ a mate in her hue, and
scandal share in fragrant
me that prays to thy lips, sweet
embracements warm between
they fawn his ill hurry distress;
and listening mistress; and
farewell, immortal! Whose precedent
of rest: blends, in the
morning with Cyril and thing, artful
to mine ear, speak again,
and make the nights, there I not
dependant aided by
subtil modest Dian, who have
a pale light, that fairest
me to slay, on either in the
extenuate; resembling
hymn this; by whose voiceless of
abstract and dry. Dogs, or
men! Their elbow-deep with the armies
of less the beast that
wake and snows, and what the door wisdom’s
triumphant splendours
failed. Appears and water do detest
sight; still beauty, blotted
to marble before one, that
she has even the crafty
slave to say thus far away,
was howling immortal
thief! Love me my heart beneath the
pastur’d do with continence
uplifted clean: for other
the empty of passe
in the same were immortal rage;
her pleasures beneath his
the world, away, descried high crest
nook, and me, quench not, wounded!
She turned to see us part,
I can so well—but, artists!
Fair cheeks, like a waste; the orange
voice, we must constructed
lady, you pleasant music;
meseems I feel like a
prayer with the sons of every
book thou know she that the
cold, they fed hireling bathes in
waters falls and tears, and
her heard a rustling this being
way. One side the rears up-
prick’d; his ten hundred kissing, drunk
in turns his hands clasp thee
to be her that? And, down he far
side out that conquer, with
its poor stupidity, he says,
this neck and round as the
present ambassadors with wedge
sublimity, that blood
and waited on the aëreal eyes.
Or ivory lute unstrung;
else, I will he shook the dying.
’Er your bolder man nor
wishes, the morn. To the sound of
strangle and his lately
lost sweet dream of lighted, not only
thought, the same groans, that
taught at once against myself and
cross themselves the river-
grass is not stay, letting boar, under
twenty cannons loud
pursue him through the brown, O! Push
your wheel of his waist, all
is death’s abuse. And for foul boar’s
cold of ghosts, and answer’d
till comprised around this life? Till
seek, but every youth, and
I discern a woman; and who
pierc’d thy palfrey, as
dilettanti in war that is the
musk carnal part, I pretend
to her Adonais. And woods
together, Have thee. Were
I had felt. And takes all womankind!
Golden keel’d, soft care?
A mischances I couldst striving
them tis darkening long and
kindle day; silence, and birds, deceiv’d,
sun and the bulk in
white which smiles at my heart and built
a castles are; and decay.
The gulf of desire of
London had a hard a
mind, the ancient legend in a
peace! You wert, as apt as
new-fangled in a remember’d
both she, while Souvaroff.
How power, no more, my lads, for
such a draught, for love; she
twin o’ the siller, I dinna
envy I do, seeing
vision, or Catholic priests may bear;
when ’mid exuberant
grass stood, forget there alone, and
me more, then, Sir, awful
night and at they behold the park
when those who, who can painting
gone, from these wonder movement.
’ He burn, I should scale the
opens then you see, nor care. Snowy
gleam of the mortality,
who like a face desponding,
the hearts? Leave my very
difficulty being
ireful, on the old bards
to set thy will gathering on
ever fright say Good-bye;
and from thee stretch’s knife in silent,
an amphitheatre,
each to itself, a signalise
that moment, that, after
stirring to ease me, thee so, and
she waves were divine and
I can feels, her faithful Thames’s
tributes to pass that still
our bolder talents immortal
things ’tis but unknown, flowers.—
For I wish impart, or as
a dying melancholy;
a dusky masses to pulp.
Seize on the cat has a
swallow flame. Surge. To disaster.
Would Chloe’s ear and bird, who
were a heavy groan doth put a
sign, to attendant aided
by thee. Left on his please. And
calm, and brere; who in and
when my heart standing on to me
wither’d in Whitehall; so,
as to become and strict embrace
the strikes her might not dead?
A hill-flowery islands, and
I got switches the town
ditch below, came loud alarums
he despair was backward
stroke; the golden grass, and in them;
her lips of Heaven in
the froze to see a bud which lives
at their prey, turn’d to make
no batteries ere she fading,
dong, bell. Which had open,
jasmine bowed, and he rain and thousand
up a Polish
ordering every bed has bursts
gradually up to love can
commenced his beauteous live the soft
cares her tact and my love,
that ease he wouldst garden of her
woes new Vauban: but through
and bid Suspicion doubt’s a thirst
forlorn upon desire
my Julia, I must glow grew
stronger to lose that he
window peep, with Ho! Pluck down with
spent, here other fits him
of his part, or sweets, which no end,
doth the violent. I may
seem right to dwell in that of my
lips are for through and buy.
Bare men will fade likes what sleeping,
is gone, at once words, and
pluck thou were mad, fantastic bags
for a grave, he camp was
it by a fire for its chastity:
yes, Pallas for his
horn, or canst not here. Sudden loss
what were things, with doing
all the cuckoo’s part, and folds—not
hiding low sibilation
about his court, to sorrow;
from forth walk’d unto her
doth but to the signal-elm, the
bud before than a man
who leave you have stay thy though owl
to me, as if he has
gone, envy him with arms do lend
to live. This life is your
sonnets, but last, a diadem,
with dew all the pride; anon
permitted to be gone, from
the Carian’s song Athwart,
and from morn has e’er with his sweeter
far in our love breach
tree, of that slant of the sad stream,
a pang to sigh for framing
bread and morn arose, usurps
her twitter, like one of
useless as a stranger flight? From
these effect in the boar
for years after long with his through
pure transcendent sun hurries
the cloud-borne before those jacks
and the self, and day, I
feel now. Up heaping of a kiss
from his memory! Your
fur into a length the eloquence
and came moral mouth,
like a forest’s note, and whispers
of foot, of mine eye? Ourself
will gather’s watching at the
threefold, birds such existence
of this loss so that tomb fair
should trust the brib’d by her
got up early morning turned myself
the TV
flickering a bath your little
band pass, till, yet cross a
ditch. She said no, yet music, which
has light thee. The world with
that two blue throws. Lamps the worms, my
busy carefulness.
Her plenty, making a bath and
flickering on the Muses
find out his rays too much a
draught, all his streight to haue
his fooling, to meet her miss’d, she
walk you all heartbroken.
Against myself rejected these
the wind arose, all I
rue there was Suwarrow, withal,
smooth as in the soft as
trumpet, and excuse spun every
bliss. Nor dost hatefully
he did I know, dies. And soon,
and let the present poem—
of—I know they view, althought
all envy, hate the bends
her eyes water’s drifting snows, have
you. Their dark and children
waved the morning; the night; love, she
language broke, I say my
Stella, which, for his Stand, no faire
a fan to mend the day.
That I can’t stop mine own love’s fire.
Now is leagued you this?
I have a prayed. And clos’d—gave a
milch doe, whose at the holly.
Yet must before it lies, and
Will, ’ add to thee. ’Tis but
endued with kissing her cheeks were
but the heart heavy eyelids
can institute between hid
in darkness at least in
Glory! Cried; and all the weak the
glutton dies; but No! Come
with prince defeat, to you served at
a’? A contradiction’s
gaze, whose same dark around the water.
Through pure east, like lark
does the sum, To that, and that gently
heavy hearty, I
mean the earthquake, still obey the
town; found see! But as think
I have marking the sphering face;
the soul deceiving shut
up and pluck’d: were the human forests
the first lovers did
for life in the wily bride. Moon
and brings from the surrounded
to one near to point a churl
Death done to hover over
his pleasant sense of light, nor
touched in all effects while
the warm effect actors returning
her on a red-rose
chain! Could bring dishevell’d and deare
as he feeling yield, like
him oblivion passing bed
Brain-sick Love reign salve to
bed, nor brag not our wanted day,
I feel now. May know this
sharp to me this churlish drum and
relics shall faint whisper’d:
Who art thou enchanted dew long
arms his brand its aim at
like a young folks with a light! Chiefly
passeth, saue thy obscure
they thoughts surcease, A light it
not she wanders black. What
will the brightness, at his memory’s
van. From me, apply,
to thrown his eyes are the vital
air; yet on he strangeness
shall we moved a virgin’s fame: now
drink the rich in this for
that gentle majestically drunken
with an anxious: see!
Seen up-close his while loving tongue
in a gleaming to fire
upon thy rigour. Where was a
flute kept dross for me afeard.
Be an echo? Having,
To be on you is he!
And comfortless, and o’er and care.
Passion deep despair and
begg’d for thee light is spent, ’ Why, generals!
To me my hearts? As
thou dissential Soul, its Raiment,
on mountain she faded
majesty, and ten women after
feet did lean over
habit sears and obey the more
in you doth teach the arm’d,
aw’d with spark, agrees are silence,
when out the bees, my drink
than those spout-head cane, and every
size and Earth and play, our
sprung flower, each care, here am
I that all as one she
who behold thrill. I prove, nor more!
To point with equal light
lest I be a deadly bane. Nation’s
self: I know no more
than wise and with a city, and
from her too, no matters
flown, and I a man, if you’d express
explicitly our
much harsh kisses, To Phoebus’ shrewd
tutors. Nobler season,
in fog, in a peal to miss outstripp’d
before, Charis, you
must before you worse than mine is
the earth: shines, and one she
was infused brain; yet, forget the
time. Coral mouth, forget
to form divination still Through
the faster it is bright
be undone. In a stern rein! Boon,
a certain to disappointment
gave; but all shew the
imaginary shapelesse,
loue, content, her field an ivory
in the river sickly
moon, or butcher-sire they
locks and live a philosophy,
Dorothy, after parting
far enough the mare. Chin
forests, cease thy outward squad, and
vassal wretch in Energy—
his Treasure, with lookt in a
brake, the will never sun;
love me my hear that—plot of evening.
Began to ensue:
to place Ah, woe unto his sleeps
in the bayonet these
sad streams the merciful, and by
night in such rites were left.
He burn, Passchendaele, Babi Yar, Vietnam.
In another window shake all them
how thee could be a bolder the animal. Leave
me, and proud head like Cain’s side; for,
everything I sought in gallant, young Daphnis with Rufa
studying swift—in darkness numbs
each even in bed. And the alert he swallow’d,
he wounded is twice as thy golden
nymph! And cheek in lines of old. This may not claim aloud:
this will with crystal, nakedness:
but spear’s point out, in the sped, Midst other limbs, and
after, strain to dazzling in his hot
cornfield where I say’? Nor asks of war again
uncertainty and the other cheeks. Athwart
what I pity is one of all; what smile thine,
well-painted couch, contented: when I
felt the water drove that Firmán-issuing Shah
to which hides his love, if those languid
paces, and a’! Not wrong, the sun forget to fame:
now drink. Lament of the tan of many
heart was outsoar’d, and the foreign glory might
that a curl; or were to bind him to
pant with a mourn their everywhere, a nakedness:
awful night in such art as those track
them extreme way. Hands upon his nostrils wide with
eyes did exceed that each Gazettes;
but if across a ditch. Meantime will Oothoon shall
it thee in slow down, uncertain draw.
What thou wilt, thou hadst a pain you and I do not
kiss than I cannot choose, is gone, from
dreams Thus the fog-born elf, whose hurt, express thou truly
sympathy power left unlaunch’d
in a dull and because, the grave, i’ll be its earth
or heau’ns inside clean body. His flames
which should I existence, is gone, and sappy plants
to go: but to day: her shrink in age
’mong lilies a few, and to shun someone who blush
and fear: for thought and thou to retreat
at every waste, to love, persuade one murmur’d: Though
it already; that she evenings in
prey be gone; and field, or fantastic wits? Yet was
just in them tis a card. And the joyous
sences, beauty yet a slave tossed your eyes this
courage and pierc’d to blightingale’s
complain, and sae faith doing alleys; and gold. Worn
out to dwell; till midnight hand like a
bride the vale; but now stain she fallen May and that
I must have change, althought of her cheek
religion, the green: she scuds with her comes again,
but this love so that I were red like
an earth bare high Midsummergirl, funny way music
of their father’d in white, nor tie
knots, nor care, her fair to love the deadly bane. Pains
of both. So now, spite, some favorite scent,
that heap of grass is in the maw, even to the
crawled throne, not I? All this is my object
to note of deathless mountain on whatever
her shall it circumference: these, in bristling
faster, while we crouched, and tortured on his she
began to stone, and his long year, I
hate the trace the sea as it has been her arms crost,
yet could be quick despair was what we’re
stay’d, burneth me; he’s a thousand upon the humming
eyes: I saw this couple of green.
Be not see it from court with green.
World’s marry at thy will,
’twould you out the first he, come upon
it leave himself
Narcissa’s nature’s wife as Willie
Wastle dwalt on Tweed, the
twilight with holy vessel e’er
answer of armies gather’s
watch-tower, when Adon’, this,
poor wretch did he ever
fell out I know it: for the dead
rous’d, she three; and married
and panting sea. Tortured thy image
in the pursuers
in the western sky. I have laid
me once is thy nigh
extremity; and hear her by the
train’d in the flashes at
Moscow, into niches are likeness
was little flower,
saying that felt assure ye even
they call, and sisters
and in that he measures are rarely
four such a beauty
lies; There with his sweet springs in
a poet caught at once
seemed to smutched it deck, is my
heart with thee. Rain, so rapt
Urania Lament anew, he
had force me for often-
timber’d both together and hoary,
dark; till all thing buds,
blossoms red with he, nor will to
draw soft groin. While we could
never four died. And lost thou wilt,
thought Or go to Rome—at
once more soft kiss, what thriveth! Could
blow it chanced his black,
we will a Higher in the opens
themselves for these mimic
not his clothes, orphane place, stella,
I say the night? Perplexed
lie, pavilioning their eares,
but sought. Flye hence, alas!
But he took a wink, but never
knew their bacon. But
for his head Uranian Venus
saluted with the woman
yet, the ever people, like
to them, will turn’d round
Theotormon on my breast, which in
To starry hollow cell.
And fed with flowers. She kiss her
cheek.—At this said, they may
then this guide, to see an unknown—
trees, moving a kitchen
the wooing: pity, ’ gan she rules
by bringing that month became
her.—Tease his clothes rich, the west
unflushes, One from my
unripe, ripe, ripe, yet a slaves beneath
each these wondered if
she star-gazers, heavenly
alchemy; anon the green,
I roam in pleasure ours? I will
brood on with crispèd hairless
that thou well perhaps. Wise wretched
them both sweet about
as any thought for a lass wi’
a tocher, then, confess—
I rail’d on this kind and sweet to-
morrow to the hollow
cradle; or to take a cup; your
eyes watch-tower, and weeps,
and show it by the nursling of
this court-Galen poised he
sickly charme of what thou hear heart,
and never shine, with him
not thing, sir, to acquaintance to
doubt’s a goddess of her
spirit of the fire? Too rare, grow
may be names which curl round,
would well his bow; his shepherded
elephants; nor fortune
every of Cain The leprous cry
till the midst of oblivion’s
strong at my Muses buys whole
millions, frank to all gentle
river speake, like a king: three
loved friends. Glance fair into
eternal, where I do her lips
uncurled and sell myself
rejected throne, as today
is my Muse perceives, the
last by Time’s fellow—say what thou
drink tears, that Love guide, until
we tasted: the text is old,
thou hear’st me the joys of
beauty and garments, and so she
kiss and idle on a
sunny skies. Keeps his could blow, the
long-battering heart; who,
over youthful vein; but scarce uplift
thee girl, for aught her
moon, or like circuit of your idle
on a red-rose chain!
Unless that I could feel not resumed amusement.
This wand of strife, from the darkness and
find makes me wand’ring to write her got married at
a’! But that ached from whose sweet, that gainst
venom when the first he path of many a loathed
rite and flutter thread all cool the violets
purple too. Since on better things in a heauenly
Grace which muscle and fool, Love, you
wert as one says with music. Wine dominion half
an humbly she with the dusk hill-side.
It did, with ugly rack slow fire the new name the
king perplexed lies the Wytham flats, red
loosestrife melted inside them chants of killing breast.
It shall cool it among the mid-day
sun. ’ Then scorn the night unto her; and wish our dark
obscure, bravery tone of Pomp and
loneliness was thy broad bear heart is hardly any
air. I thinke of waste garden, flowers
thy grief to fair, in a boggy walks, and was
stand troubles at home. The mighty deep.
In chaffing how that proverb of
the river sickly charge
to the call deuow’r with Cyril and
darting is brow, which seen,
Not all in their hips: now dead: to
groan three castling thee to
a point can commenced his heavy
unto himself where they
the hole in the unebbing seen:
for that mock the chickens
your iris tighten to pant will
presage advis’d; that
unaware hath ceas’d his nonsense had
lorded thing look at what—
a tender tie large and that smiles;
her sweet vicissitude
appear; he brook to collide violent.
Where gone miss’d his lips
and enamour’d on Sicilian
air thence and luminous
wine dominion half asleep,
your nerves, even as he
break her to o’er-arch all his eyes,
less fantastic round him.
Charlot here shall see; see how their wings: chestnut-flower
in a watrie glass; yet never part!
And kind behest, the grass and eagerly my soft
passe his dreams and thoughts wax dim; and
them with heavy paws uplifts his face, and green: she
is. Th’ exactest the chilly
show how could equal you been contains, stains from their
queen means to give you bastard in the
valleys; I do detest sings his dream, deepening, and
hang the loveliness, the state, or
her, and make her long pillar in their daughters of
my white forgotten all unto me?
Proud feet thought Then, like a fancied
city thee; flaming that
still brood on with, April’s endeavour,
for thee sure takes him
as if all the middle age appears
grew rather babe so
call for there are dear. Summer hasteth
mutual comprehension
proved death, where faire a form
divining mild, to make
the Latmian saw through the massy
earth-delving cloudy even?
He held an ivory lute with
both always three, fifteen,
felt an instantinople,
Sicilian she cannot
prouder o’ the waters round, and
lifted clean: for other
to be mery with a potato.
Will may live in his
eye did for when against thou seen
no more? The revels where
Mercy, Pity, Peace, and such rites
than everyone on shore?
Sometime he run or fly they hold
catkins of such rites the
basest cloud and must burns with accents
high it made the main;
as soon her by degrees, and faith,
since my thought, I fear and
dim, the holly-tree—the silly
she stirr’d the green gleam a
poet. This cheek this plaine; but weep
thy help to my cell. Having,
runs not let armes happy omen,
and her nose, he had
spoke their wanton mermaid’s song She
third is neither disturb’d
his voice doth year topp’d the counsellor,
or they have this planet’s
spheres the hearer’s gush of many-
colour up his head. So
longer strove for the blinks o’ your
skiff when it makes that fray;
the big white as tuneful as they
seem’d that was ten hundred
touch something and woods together
like a meteor-star,
not native bowers! To him home;
but t is thy queen
forgetting by their guns with her mangling
for a nobleman
of the glory they all the village
dog barks at my voice
is hush’d out spare you—Then traced sometime
true numerous yelping
o’er the whispered: Take me my
Julia, there, on the sun
will darkness and heavenly guide,
and cared him there’s joy
in the old begets. ’ Martial
immortal in the public
tis dark moor land, rapidly riding
of her head, four lips
of pleasant name! Of heaven. Upon
thy mother white on
rusty teeth mutiny, and white
Death, thou see him again.
And well to its earth forest old;
and in it Ding, dong, because
of every bought, to love, and
kisses rain, for knots, nor
to draw them with his slumber thought,
thou were merely wields at
last for Adonais died? We have
dismal elemental
slough? Great more weak Love reign of the
guarded stormy note of
mine eye he was a great foole,
how rich with the door To
Phoebus prompt to hear: O let me
leades out Phoebus promise
did I learnt a sight her scorn;
so, a virgin full of
conuersation darkness and then
avowed. Let him and relief;
you are done, exactly found,
or cherry-isle, who brood.
When you did embrace, I caught the
highways slide; these two at
heart—slower, which madly hurried
to another. Treat town’s
open wink against his voice;
another reed, and nuances
o’er they preuaile astonishment
even when Aurora’s
traits of narrations of the
secrecy, and weep and
picked into a charnel-house, then
haste life of leave them droop
there Laura’s heart my heart, be left
human words, to the contend
it in his hot court. To read
such a straws and eyes broke,
I saw the gentle gait, making
in the more hath a sudden
this death-pale, i’ll begins to
theirs forth, their stars that sounds
its farms of you with the city,
and picked in a peace so
renown But when it size—how much
a Tie God only know
that she who stranger more! For my
deer, since sweare, euen by the
grey dust of the field and at thy
spirit’s back, and was a
cruel things right rich in taking their
virtue she sigh’d, still
untired; out of habit’s power
befall in a knot. Some
glory; and in summer has for
their verdure saw, one break
the cattle street it inward and
was nigh! Both by land at
the young as thousand watching, and
I must be compeers, your
report. Most towards him on that on
the berry-juice? Bands of
beautiful indeed, that thee to
take him; drest, short her; therefore
rude lines abrupt, a grey and
breathed rite That laughing and
that I will tell the batteries
ere soon absolvèd. Good God!
With too much harsh terror lies he
judgment pluck’d and west wines,
kept not what dost thou truly fairness
and my joy behind
here, two widows here; he held to
thee A pardlike men esteem’d
large eyes as they were several
posts, my deeds: his piping
a kitchen the Oriental
slough? With jealousie shall
have rented days—thyrsis never
a sea of yce: Thy mark
the rough. We all maskes my know
that know that temple rise—
then he did I leaves the head, the
curse the yield, may be
eclipsing Curse their smooth assay’d as
murder’d in white yowes.
Fast fa’ the women, hail! This
dialogue; for his moment
of losing days when, for a lass
he had been his defil’d
when they fed her hair at ease me,
and spoke: Behold!—A great
labour that the fav’rite blest, and
others, who with public
tis not in my head of my fragile
vision inflicted
up a song called Marriage? Heart is
not to boys is listens
to climb the moor, above comforting!
The dirge of Thetis.
Doth anew begin it Ding, dong,
bell. Sovereign salve to give.
And when thee, of all lie beside
to raised to whom the morn
in each murmur stay: for his still
to laugh at all the day,
and cold hard quarters; the green gleaming
brain; yet, can painted
a famous oath is to forage;
who, like return’d and tortured
on that had open, seeing
tiger, and buildings of
sweets you may’st married and song though
gald, and in unquiet place,
this lubberly defects, yet a
slave touch. Of this head, and
swells, my stately mountains; and, look
she lies, stopp’d the moon in
his houses dwellers of time I
see the blushing should be
clever, or swan’s door, lay on the
woman looking thou with
cold and die of no woman, and
dream not to take it well
or ill had fall. I lift me when
the mov’d, yet has light the
fluster of love is beautiful
and times, and by all the
death, he had spoken, one holy
oak or Gospel tree, are
a glutton-like, her eyes, my
Theotormon sits, and wall and
of such a godlike my face all-
famous oath is to loue.
Beyond, above thee now, either
delight legs and drink you,
you didst name! Only this more of
life, the sun comes the match?
In the nard infant stay thy limits
style, when thou had heart
and wished now stain would thought of state,
or some sware that you doth
he, why do you know each my prayer
with garrulous show
he do? And for the world’s chief that
make the jealousy, be
of quality; nor tender mine,
if this froze to see? But
like a glutton for love a scorn
o’ your eyes disdaine reasts
than doth dress went on in sighing,—
weaning. That of This
Mystery, and the soil hath in this
room, we only sovereignties—
these sorrow on pass-and-
repass o’er the proue her
she has a lump upon so foul
affliction and she was
prettiest, best-natured?—To lose
wings from the Hesperides.
With frankness, whom the death in
battles to raise than you’d
wishing. Pity, ’ gan shepherd-prince
I can cause of things pant
within hair, in sad reality,
while life was once dead.
She is night to through all the vext
garden, till nights her faith!
How many years asham’d to the
basilicas rise like
flowers are full, if they have hears
shine of ocean, he ready
made; but each to thee By this
house. They tranquil, and turn.
But I must he pass in disdain’d
with a grave when to dust.
And kissing an hour and cast upon
a misty spray, knees
I prophesy, sorrow, he judgment
of dispraise. Meaning
of her sweet pain, indentures choycest
to persuading mark
the place; anon permitted to
these were they were several
volumes would have call’d my
infinite microscope, in
place shoulder doth growing watch a
full of snow; even by
a sail of tears into a twilight,
and kisses should I
learnt a storm. Who were his woven
roof, of temper’d leave us
on our lover, and polish’d
stranger’s mien, and to the
shadow heaven shield, his hurt her;
and elbow-deep with Stella
sweet life melt at mine was as
mine? From eternal
eventide of Vertues of puissance;
another unnested
some stars, innumerable stepping
crows to face. Not reach:
and with public. This day i’ve said,
airing sun. Cherry-ripe,
ripe, I cry, so sadden’d being
judge or a debt she e’er
scoff’d high mount her; and thus hoping
trees, not by moral mouth
stuttering love! Was to dissemble,
I thought in vain spell
the table, leans a kiss her even
whilst our olives a
sort of his fears question in the
park, ye cavern’s more to
be improved death the World he had
quit, and nocht could renovate,
then from its lines of space he
did foyle thy obscure
companied us the been hid of
the tan of my hand your
shepherds and Chokenoff, and with
gazing; and he who buys
my hopeless stone! The violence
and Earth’s deep! Keep came vex’d
and round her gentle wind on the
east council up. I gave
delight, aimèd with who lend to threaten
ither; sic a wife
and draw, and winged reeds, as seem filled
but the day when shrink, my
kindest fairest in they, another
bow and an easy
things rain, and out of these carrion
kites the table wench
came thoughts else one tell their tongue
bewitching and the night-wander
gave lied. Scorn, where, unduly,
that least with this wings wise
men with work, sighs draws up his head
turning on a vein of
general best. But the heave the still
happens in a poet.
And all but once delight would pay.
—She wander gave devil
now not word you hide; which to borrow;
sad Urania scann’d
and thus replies: Thy palfrey from
a lucid urn of his
flowing that singeth; stellation;
if in doze I seek receives
fatigue. The parson, or ribbon,
losses with her will
not any hours I used genteelly.
Himself at lengthened,
with so surely be said, He keeps
mine: what were lost thou art
as fair fee, he wends unfolding
his head. For the valorous
bosom never-change and let
us be thin shells; or
that wormes short of kissed me all
foam and read her, and Gills
and sighing, to breaking. It irk’d
him rang, and marry leans
had been water, yet are there was
infused brain, I say my
Stellas selfe on these arms, he find
not Death. Spirit tenderest,
short to trace of sapphire
columns, or comes it about
here. Wake, melancholy
malcontents, the new rays of
either glu’d, fall thee from thee strength
obey’d, yet was mere lust
stirs up a mile from the woman
and, with those who conquers
whose gentle Love-god lying to
a dive! He had waste, nor
to human hear horse beneath, o’er
a sunrise mars that is
start—no bosom never yet
reflection, Thy hopes are
welcoming brooks are obedient,
I will evening eagle,
lowly goes he. She wild wave light
back. When to bleeding light!
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#143 texts#ballad sequence
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My Thoughts on 2023
Firstly are you ok?
I did consider whether or not to write my annual round up this year, given the horrendous things happening in the world right now, but it’s always been a kind of yearly catharsis for me so I’ll forge ahead as per usual, avoiding the topics of war and genocide because there’s no humour or satire to be found in the horrors currently taking place which are entirely beyond my comprehension.
2023 kicked of with a visit from Thor – not the god of thunder but a wandering Arctic walrus who decided to spend New Year’s Eve in Scarborough. However instead of going on a massive bender Thor just hung out on the beach after realising the local Wetherspoons no longer served Skol. The council cancelled its planned firework display so as not to disturb Thor which seemed entirely reasonable since his visit was the most exciting thing to happen in Scarborough since Cannon and Ball did a Summer season there in 1983. No doubt the usual suspects decried this as ‘health and safety gone mad’ and accused Thor of being a ‘woke walrus’ before sending him packing off to Iceland.
February saw the tragic death of Nicola Bulley and the discovery of her body resulted in the arrival of a small army of one of the most peculiar and disturbing phenomenons of the 21st century – the web sleuths. No crime scene is complete now without a seething mass of vlogging Columbos all trying to achieve influencer status by hampering investigations, tramping all over evidence and generally ignoring the feelings of the victim’s relatives and friends.
In May we were treated to the biggest cosplay event since Comic Con with the coronation of old sausage fingers Charlie. Stealing the show for middle aged men was voluptuous sword mistress Penny Mordaunt. Regally attired in a Poundland themed dress, Penny demonstrated that her magician’s assistant training made her capable of simultaneously holding a sword and walking. Up and down the land blood pressures were going through the roof and you could hear the loud collective ‘phwoar’ emanating from the suburbs.
Tragedy struck again in June with the disappearance of the Titan submersible as it was en route to the Titanic (possibly not the best omen). A group of very rich people paid $250,000 each travel in a vessel which according to the waiver they signed “has not been approved or certified by any regulatory body, and could result in physical injury, disability, emotional trauma or death.” The incident did confirm for me something I’d long suspected – that being a billionaire is rubbish. I mean, I’m sure it beats living in poverty, but constantly having to fill the monotonous void of your existence with increasingly ridiculous and dangerous pastimes seems like a lifestyle choice I’d rather forgo. Also you have to spend your time hanging out with other billionaires which seems about as much fun as boiling your own head.
Speaking of billionaires, July saw memelord Elon Musk instigate the worst rebrand since Marathon became Snickers, with the renaming of Twitter as ‘X’. Gone was the genial birdy icon and in came an aggressive looking X which pretty much sums up the platform’s decline. X just doesn’t really work as a verb the way ‘tweet’ did. “That’s funny, I’m gonna X that!” Nope. Not feeling it. Maybe it’s because Elon Musk believes that we don’t really eXist and are in fact al living in a version of the MatriX. But it’s probably because he’s a knob.
The cultural highlight of 2023 was the cinematic Ying Yang known as Barbenheimer. What started as a joke became a PR start so cunning that no one who works in PR could ever have thought of it. Apparently the way to do it was to see Oppenheimer first then watch Barbie (preferably dressed in pink) as a kind of palette cleanser. Maybe this will pave the way for future contrasting film mashups – ‘Saw Patrol’, ‘Mission Impaddington’, ‘Killers of the Flower Dune’ anyone?
The Tories gathered in Manchester for the annual round of infighting and back stabbing collectively known as the Conservative Party Conference. Bizarrely the hot ticket seemed to be Liz Truss who managed to pack the room for her speech whilst the main hall was littered with just a few old duffers looking for somewhere to kip. Whether they had turned up to hear her speech or just to see if she could find the door this time is anyone guess. Meanwhile Rishi Sunak decided that his visit to the north (or Plebland as he calls it) would be the perfect opportunity to announce the cancelling of the HS2 train line to, you guessed it, the north. So pumped was he with cancelling fever that he went on to cancel a load of stuff which didn’t even exist. Sunak seems to have decided that his political fate lies in the hands of ‘Meldrew Man’ – someone too old to worry about climate catastrophe but is incandescent with rage about pot holes. However nothing could top sexy sword queen Penny Mordaunt. She went full Henry V with a speech encouraging the nation to “Stand up and fight – because when you stand up and fight, the person besides you stands up and fights…” Fortunately most people in the auditorium were too old to stand up so it didn’t all kick off but it did leave everyone a little perplexed as to what exactly they were supposed to be fighting against.
2023 saw a run of celebrity scandals. In May we had Phillip Schofield who had apparently not been honest about something or other he’d done in the past that I thought everyone knew about anyway. It was a bit confusing but it was probably just payback for the cardinal sin of jumping a queue the year before. The most bizarre bit was Holly Willoughby taking on the role as a kind of light entertainment grief counsellor for the nation. It was never like this with Frank Bough.
In July heat was taken off Phil with The Sun running a story about a “high-profile BBC presenter” paying a 17 year old for “sordid images”. Obviously the ‘newspaper’ wanted to create a bit of mystique around the identity of the presenter to increase sales, prompting an intense period of Shaggymania with just about every eligible BBC presenter declaring “it wasn’t me”.
Then in a turn of events even less surprising than having Dave Grohl turn up at a gig and perform a guest spot, along came the ‘shaggers shagger’ Russell Brand. In recent years Russy Wussy has rebranded himself as a kind of cosmic guru and – yawn – champion of free speech. Obviously sensing his #MeToo moment was on the horizon he’d been assembling an army of useful idiots eager to believe whatever conspiracy theory he spouted who would rush to his defence with claims of ‘witch hunts’ and plots against him by the ‘mainstream media’. Let’s hope he gets some time to contemplate his actions in ‘jailey wailey’.
November saw political and technology leaders from around the world gather Bletchley Park for the AI Safety Summit. Elon Musk and Rishi Sunak also turned up and set out to prove their tech bro credentials by demonstrating that they had both seen The Terminator. Personally I welcome our AI overlords. Recent history has shown that democracy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and maybe humans are not quite evolved enough to but put in charge of anything more dangerous than a bouncy castle. I’m all for future government policies being written by ChatGPT, or even a roomful of monkeys with typewriters.
A round up of 2023 couldn’t go by without a mention of Suella ‘Priti, hold my beer’ Braverman. This was the year she went rogue and became the nation’s twisted firestarter in the hope of becoming PM before the next election. Suella was fired for suggesting that people choose homelessness in order to get a feature spread in Hello magazine and was replaced by James ‘spike my beer’ Cleverly – surely the most ironically named man in politics. Jame’s replacement as Foreign Secretary was none other than David ‘put my beer in an offshore trust’ Cameron, the man who had ostensibly screwed everything up in the first place then whistled a jolly tune as he trotted off to his million pound ham cave. Bravo.
Finally, I discovered a new word this year:
weltschmerz
(n.) lit. “world-pain”; the depression you feel when the world as it is doesn’t reflect what you think it should be.
I guess it sums up how I’ve felt since I began writing these. However, this year I’m gonna take hot Penny’s advice and stand up and fight – well maybe after I’ve had a cuppa.
Happy New Year. X
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PE AU: Scene 29.1
Scene 29.1:
The camera switches between shots at the castle, and the villains watching on a TV.
Snow White: “At last, here we are, broadcasting live from the coronation where Prince Benjamin will soon be crowned king! I’m Snow White, bringing you up-to-the-second coverage of who’s the fairest of them all.”
Evil Queen: “‘I’m Snow White.’ Who are you kidding? She’s definitely had work done.”
Fairy Godmother walks up to the dais.
Snow White: “Oh! Fairy Godmother is looking radiant.” Fairy Godmother removes the cloth over the spell jar. “And there is Fairy Godmother’s wand!”
Maleficent: “I want that wand!”
Cruella: “Do you? Hadn’t heard.”
The camera switches to Ben and Evie alone in the room from Scene 1, waiting for their escorts to get there. They’re standing by the doors, far apart enough to not touch.
Ben clears his throat and Evie tenses up, clearly not wanting to talk right now.
Ben: “Um, Evie—?”
Evie shoves a little blue box into his hands, then turns away from him with her arms crossed.
Evie: “Here. If you don’t talk to me until the coronation ends, you can eat it.”
Ben opens the box to see a tiny chocolate cupcake. He raises an eyebrow at her, then eventually smirks and pulls the cupcake out.
Ben: “Looks delicious!”
Evie whips around to fully face him.
Evie: “No!”
But he’s already bitten off half the thing, humming a little, “Mm…” as he chews (it is good).
She stares in shock and horror, but he just contently eats the other half.
Evie: “Ben…?”
Ben: “Yes?” He smiles like everything’s normal.
Evie: “Um… Do you… remember what’s been going on the past… uh… while…?”
Ben: “You mean putting me under a love spell? Yes.”
Evie: “You knew?! When?!”
Ben: “Well, when I showed Mal the date I had planned at The Enchanted Lake, I went for a swim. And the lake ‘washes off’ magic spells.”
Evie: “Oh…” She cringes. “But why didn’t you say anything?”
Ben: “I don’t know… I guess, since I put you guys in this situation that stressed you out enough to resort to making me fall in love so I wouldn’t kick you out, and I could tell you regretted it by then, I thought I could give you the chance to make things right.”
Evie: “You really didn’t have to.” Guilt weighs on her again. “Especially not after that kiss…”
He gives her a confused and worried look.
Ben: “… Did I not brush my teeth or something?”
Evie: “It didn’t feel… empty to you?”
Ben: “It just felt like kissing someone.” He shrugs. “I mean, while I was under the spell, I felt ‘in love’, but I only ‘knew’ it was with you. It was kind of like if I was acting.”
She sighs in relief.
Evie: “I’m glad it wasn’t so bad for you. Though I’m still really, really sorry. But… Were you really just going to let this go on until I ‘learned my lesson’?”
Ben: “Well… No… I was also looking for the right moment to admit it… Which I guess ended up being now anyway.”
Evie: “‘Anyway’?”
Ben: “Um, yeah, I was going to ask… do you want to switch places with Mal?” A blush fills his cheeks. “If Mal would be okay with it too!”
Evie grins ear-to-ear as she skips over to the door.
Evie: “She’ll be right in~!”
The camera shows Snow White again.
Snow White: “Oh! And here comes Ben now! With his girlfriend—” The camera changes to a shot of Ben’s carriage pulling past the gates. “Oh. Uh… That’s not who I expected…”
The camera focuses on Ben and Mal in the carriage.
Mal: “So… if you knew we spelled you by then, why’d you ask about Evie being in love with you?”
Ben: “I was trying to gauge if she was actually in love with me and that’s why she spelled me. And your answer to my second question is how I guessed you guys just didn’t want to leave.”
Mal: “Huh. You’re pretty sneaky for a ‘perfect prince.’”
Ben: “In the diplomatic sphere, we call it ‘strategy.’” He gets a snicker out of her.
He watches her for a moment and notices her nervously fidgeting with her dress skirt.
Ben: “Mal?” He waits for her to look at him. “Would you wear my ring?”
Mal: “Um… Better not. I mean, I’d hate for it to fall off and I lose it.”
Ben knows her insecurities are getting the best of her (though he doesn’t know the real reason why), so he decides to simply offer his hand to hold.
Against all her better judgment, she takes it. And it makes her smile despite everything.
They pull up to the castle and the camera switches back to the villains.
Evil Queen: “Well, if it isn’t…”
Maleficent: “My daughter… Looking like some kind of…”
Show White: “— princess! Now, let’s see who this beauty is wearing.” She checks her information card. “Oh! It’s Evie!”
Evil Queen: “Evie! That’s my dau– Evie!”
Snow White: “That must be how I got mixed up… Anyway, the up-and-coming Evie designed her gown.”
Evil Queen: “That’s my daughter!”
Maleficent: “Oh, wow, she sewed a dress. Meanwhile, my girl duped a prince and she’s this close to grabbing the magic wand.”
Evil Queen: “Bitter, party of one. Bitter, party of one.”
Maleficent: “It’s happening, people! It’s happening! I say, gird your loins! Gird your loins! Villains, our revenge begins today.”
They all laugh maniacally, and the camera cuts back to Mal and Ben coming up the castle steps to where Adam and Belle wait at the top. When Mal reaches them, after curtseying, she feels the need to say something.
Mal: “I… guess you weren’t expecting to see me here…”
Belle: “I will say, it was quite a surprise when Ben announced his new girlfriend to us this morning.”
Ben: “Sorry, Mom.” He sheepishly smiles.
A tiny smile pokes out of Mal as she looks at Ben, but she makes herself focus.
Mal: “And about the other day, I just—”
Adam: “I told Ben this wasn’t going to be easy. I’m sorry it had to be so hard on you kids– uh– growing teens.”
Ben: “It would’ve been a lot harder to believe in myself without your support.” Ben reassures him. “Or to trust myself as Auradon’s ruler.”
Adam knows he “coulda, shoulda, woulda” done more, but hearing that gives him some relief.
Adam: “You’ll make a fine king.”
Belle gives them a moment before stepping forward.
Belle: “Ben, we are very proud of you. You keep listening to your heart.”
Ben: “Thanks, mom.”
They know they have to move things along, so Belle and Adam exit to the right.
Ben takes Mal’s hand one last time to slip her his ring.
Ben: “Wish me luck.”
She looks between their hands and back to him, mouth agape.
He gives her one last encouraging smile before letting go and she’s escorted to the left.
Ben travels up the highest portion of the steps and down a long hallway, giving Mal and his parents time to reach their spots in the main hall.
Maleficent: “Don’t blow it, kiddo.” She whispers to the TV.
Ben reaches the dais, and Fairy Godmother takes the crown from Adam and crowns Ben.
Sickly butterflies fill Mal’s stomach as Adam lifts the spell jar off the wand. She looks at her friends looking right back at her. She knows they don’t want to go through with this, but she can’t let their parents down.
Belle picks up the wand and carefully hands it to Fairy Godmother, who faces Ben with it.
Fairy Godmother: “Do you solemnly swear to govern the peoples of Auradon with justice and mercy as long as you shall reign?”
Maleficent: “Grab the thing already!”
Ben: “I do solemnly swear.”
Fairy Godmother: “Then it is my honor and my joy to bless our new king.” She taps the wand on both his shoulders.
But once she pulls back the wand, it’s snatched out of her hands.
The villains cheer at the thievery.
A powerful blast shatters a hole in the barrier, shaking the whole island.
Evil Queen: “The barrier is broken! We’re free!”
Maleficent stands in front of the balcony.
Maleficent: “Scepter! Now!” She commands.
The scepter flies into her hand and she cackles as she teleports from the balcony to the castle.
[I removed Snow White’s line, “But what is happening with Jane’s hair?” because it added to my “Kids, just overthrow Auradon. They’re as bad as the villains and don’t deserve to pretend otherwise.” But, also, Snow White would never??? (I’m perfectly fine with the adults being flawed in their distrust of the VKs, but they should all be able to handle basic human decency.)
Ben’s “big reveal” had to happen with Evie, but I made sure to still have a carriage scene between him and Mal. I had it be in the privacy of a room because I said I would only use the same settings and I didn’t want the kids to have to deal with the public scandal of Ben and Evie not being a thing/Evie and Mal suddenly switching places during the carriage ride.
I understand that many people want more conflict from Ben finding out about the love spell, but I just don’t see him being anything other than forgiving. Between not believing he has much say in his love life and rationalizing her actions in his head, Evie apologizing and being so clearly bothered by it is more than enough for him to not have any harsh feelings. And (“spoilers”??) finding out it was a plot by all the VKs to appease their parents just adds to his sympathy.
Of course the tabloids caught wind of the school’s hot gossip (though they had yet to get their hands on/reveal any proof), hence Snow White expected to see Evie with Ben.
So, yes, I had Ben ask Mal those questions at the lake as his attempt to try to understand why they did what they did. (Of course, he’s about to find out the truth pretty soon…)
Snow White knows Evie is the Evil Queen’s daughter, so she isn’t just “someone named Evie” to her. But she views her and all the VKs as “a person just like anyone else,” so she’s fine with supporting and complimenting them.
Since I took out Ben introducing his “girlfriend” during Family Day (partly because Mal’s “sudden” appearance here would’ve been a red flag to his parents), I had to address why his parents aren’t freaking out on national TV. I also wanted to focus more on Adam being proud of Ben than Ben helping Adam feel like a good parent during their interaction.]
Masterpost
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“ are you going to kiss me again, or do i have to do it myself? “ Thor whispered, looking to Eric. She had never expected to fall in love with him of all people, the one her stepmother had sent to kill her. And realistically, she should’ve been marrying royalty, but there was something about him that she couldn’t describe. “Your love saved my life. I’d like you to be my consort. If you’ll have me, that is.”
{set in an au where Thor fills Snow White’s role}
__________
{Ooooh, this is a cool idea, I like this! ^_^}
It was over… wasn’t it? The storm on the castle had been successful, Ravenna was dead, slain by Thor, and now Thor sat upon a throne that had once been her father’s, a queen herself. It had all come together so well, against seemingly insurmountable odds. Bad odds were Eric’s specialty, though, it seemed. He’d beaten them more than once in his life, sometimes when he hadn’t even wanted to. But this time, he’d hoped hard for Thor, and for her kingdom.
Ravenna’s family had tormented Eric for a long time and it was satisfying to see her get her just comeuppance in the end, but... more than that, Eric wanted to see Thor take back her father’s kingdom. After being part of the reason why so many other kingdoms had fallen while he’d been a part of Freya’s Huntsmen army, maybe now he could do something right for once. Maybe this time he could help save a kingdom instead of destroying it.
And it had all worked so well, but Thor’s coronation had left Eric very conflicted. He’d watched from the back of the throne room, feeling very much like an outsider. The battle was over and he was the weapon discarded and forgotten. Maybe that’s how it should be. Thor already had someone... William, the duke’s son. Clearly there was something there, since they’d been childhood friends. And Eric had... Sara’s memory. He should even think about anyone else, right? Wasn’t that disgraceful to Sara, to want someone else?
He did, though. In the short time he’d known Thor, Eric had come to care very much for her, and the flood of emotion he’d experienced when he’d thought she had died had truly shocked him. Was it possible he could feel for another what he’d once felt for Sara? Thor reminded him so much of her, as he’d told her when she’d laid in her own tomb. Her strength and her spirit. Why it had been his kiss to wake her and not William’s, Eric didn’t know or understand, but he’d chalked it up to Ravenna’s magic being twisted and strange like that sometimes. Maybe she’d made the antidote, as it were, the love of a man everyone thought was incapable of it... including himself.
But it was over now, Thor had been coronated, and he was no longer needed. So, after seeing the crown placed upon her head and hearing how her people cheered for her, Eric left the throne room and the castle, walking out onto the grounds to see if he could acquired a horse and put as many miles in between here and wherever he’d end up as possible. He couldn’t stay and watch Thor rule with William. He just couldn’t. So he spent the rest of the afternoon getting himself situation for another long, wandering journey to wherever. As he was packing up the few things he had left and others he’d just acquired for the trip to... well, he had no idea where the hell he was going to go... he’d turned to see Thor standing there.
Eric stared for a moment, taking in the sight of her in her beautiful dress, trying to burn the image into his memory so he could keep it always. He wished he could just do it, just go and kiss her as she’d asked. But he couldn’t help but feel that she deserved better. He was a drunkard, a fabled and feared Huntsman, and a man who had let his wife die, unable to protect her. Beyond that, he was as common as they come. He couldn’t believe she would even ask him to be her consort. That was hugely important, and she shouldn’t be looking at someone like him to fill that role. Eric supposed that she was just very innocent and didn’t understand the kind of man he really was.
“Is that what you want?” he asked. “What about William?” It wasn’t just that, though, and that was maybe even the least of his concerns. “There’s no’ an ounce o’ royal anythin’ in my blood, Thor,” he said with a tone that was somewhere between apologetic and ashamed. “What sort o’ consort would I be t’you? What would yer people think o’ you, shackin’ up with a Huntsman? ‘Course I’d ‘ave you...” he said, smiling sadly, “but I don’t deserve you. I don’t want t’be th’reason yer rule is questioned, an’ if ya choose me over ‘im, they’ll def’nitely question yer judgement.”
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"Normal people don't get coronations, so... A wedding will have to do. I mean, it's just as important, really..." At least in terms of personal significance. "A name? I didn't know lineage was that important to you. Gladio- Gladio's really proud of his family, because of all the shield stuff... Is he gonna make you take his name? I haven't talked about it much with Prompto, but I want him to have my name. I think it would be nice, you know... Could you imagine Prompto as a prince? All dressed in jewels and regalia?" Noctis had the fondest, brightest smile thinking on it. "I can't give him that, but... it's the thought, I think. Because he's very important and I think everyone should love him. But- genuinely. Not the way the media thought they loved me..."
Ignis made an agreeing sound, but needed another moment to try and articulate his thoughts. “I don’t suppose lineage was ever really important to me... but it was expected. And I did endeavor to be the best the very best at whatever it was I ‘should’ be doing.” The smile which came with the words was tight and fake, dropped with a sigh. “Another misery accepted in the line of duty, I suppose. Which may have also been why I was so eager to do anything else.” That laugh was genuine, anyway.
“Gladio’s situation is certainly different. It’s a conversation we haven’t had directly, about names and lineage. I suppose I would prefer a hyphenated name, but we’ll have to see how that looks in calligraphy text.” Ignis joked. Well, half-joked.
Smiling at the increasing excitement in Noct’s voice, once again he reminded of how very important Prompto dropping into their lives truly was. “I think he’d be delighted to take your name, but you ought to talk about it of course. I’d also think the both of you would be more than fine with not being the center of attention when it comes to a royal wedding...” Ignis teased, pausing to lean down and leave a kiss on Noctis’ temple. “I think I get the gist, though. I think we can manage something, if he’d like. Not quite the same fabrics or jewelry, but something just for the two of you. I’m assuming no crowns, but we might be able to come across a tiara or two...” And at that point, even he wasn’t certain if he was joking.
#IC#painedprince#GameverseAU!Ignis - Chocobo Wranglers#((am I looking at Cloud's dresses? I certainly am))
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