dead poets and pets headcanons! their childhood/family pets, favourite animals, and what pets i think they would actually 'end up' with

neil perry

have you seen thomas perry? have you heard him speak? neil did not have a childhood pet. i think he really wanted a dog as a kid, but after a while of his father refusing, he would resort to asking for a fish or a hamster. his father's answer did not change absolutely adores the welton dog and always tries to sneak him treats and headpats and hugs and kisses and- he's just full of love yk he also seems like a fan of rodents? like guinea pig, hamsters and such,, he absolutely gets a dog after welton [more in todd's section]

todd anderson

the andersons bought jeffrey a cat for his fourteenth birthday it's a korat, his name is benjamin and he's a huge jerk -to everyone but todd. so it's more of todd's cat than anyone else's. todd loves cats overall, he enjoys how they just are, and finds their presence calming. once he moves out he takes benjamin with him and literally no one tries to fight him on this. also i think later in life he and neil would get a therapy dog to help todd deal with his anxiety, and neil with his trauma/depression. every once in a while one of the poets might feel down too, and todd's more than happy to let them 'borrow' the dog i feel like he would find arachnids fun, but his parents find them gross, and neil's is afrad of them, so he wouldn't ever have one

knox overstreet

idk why, but overstreets just feel like a crusty white dog named coco family. also his younger sisters have a rabbit! also i think him and charlie both used to do horseback riding as kids, as some sort of summer extracurricular?? anyways, yes, his family bought him a horse,, which is a totally standard thing to buy your child. he's not all that into horseback riding anymore and would let his siblings have the horse knox definitely loves dogs, and would have a golden retriver methinks just has that vibe

charlie dalton

his family have a bengal cat which he loves. he manhandles the shit out of that bastard and the cat doesn't really mind. the cat's name is orion, but really? it's Bastard. also his family owns horses and there's at least one that charlie dumbass-proofed (basically got it used to tolerating him as he does increasingly dangerous things around it) (idk if that's actually possible, i don't know anything about horses other than they look kinda cool) (idk why but the visual of charlie riding a horse like a skateboard cannot escape my mind i simply had to share). definitely a dog person, though he doesn't strike me as a guy that would actually have a dog? at least just on his own, he could have one with someone (a bf maybe? a bf named steven meeks even?,) he loves dogs, but having a whole creature depending solely on him is not a good idea.

gerard pitts

dog person. obviously he just seems like a guy that would enjoy going on long runs it's bc he's tall with long legs and what can make a run better? a dog he had a childhood dog that was already pretty old when he was born.. anyways! they got a him a german shorthair to celebrate him graduating middle school totally not bc he was heartbroken he probably wouldn't try and relocate the dog once he moves out just to not stress him out he might get a turtle though, he looks like a turtle guy

steven meeks

meeks' family has a miniature poodle. she's very well trained and steven deff treats her very politely. like- 'hello, would you like a treat, ma'am? of course, just do a spin first please?,, there you go, thank you :)' <- no babytalk or anything like that, he seems like a guy who just talks to animals like they're human all the time overall, but he's extra polite to her he feels like a,, calm dog person. like he enjoys their energy and likes having an excitible furry friend, but doesn't run around them or like match their general chaoticness also i feel he might get a gecko <3 just a lil' guy to sit on his shoulder while he studies/works <3

richard cameron

my lifelong hc for cameron's family is that he has some grandparents and cousins living on a farm, that he spends half of every summer with, doing typical farm things,, like caring for farm animals,, like cows,, and with that comes 'cow person' cameron headcanon he has his favourite in the herd for sure that he's just best friends with :) she has huge eyes and she listens to him rant, she's the best obviously one cannot simply own a cow as a pet, and since they're his favs he would probably opt out to not have any pets. scratch that i just thought about him having a chicken as a pet and am endlessly amused by it. he has a pet chicken

Oc Asks Game: 2 and 23 for all of your MCs? If that's ok?

Whew! Okay, let's see...

Tea, coffee, hot chocolate or other?

Carewyn: Coffee! Like her good friend Talbott, she's a coffee addict to the extent her other half Orion tries to wean her off of it. Her favorite blend is a caramel macchiato, but she'll also drink it black in a pinch.

Jacob: Hot chocolate. Jacob is a chocoholic and he'll never pass up a good hot chocolate.

Lane: English Breakfast tea.

Erik: Coffee, black as his soul. LMAO just kidding. 🤣

Ana: Good old-fashioned milk, specifically skim, since it's what her mum raised her with in a misguided attempt to help "curb" her weight. She also loves orange and (thanks to her boo Charlie Copper's influence) lemon mimosas.

Farid: Juice!! This boy loves juice, especially orange juice, though he also becomes very fond of pumpkin juice while staying at Hogwarts. Also green tea and almond milk.

Ru: They'll drink most anything that isn't too sweet (they really don't like chocolate, for instance), but in the mornings they tend to like apple juice best.

Ed: Any kind of sweet coffee brew, especially if it's got lots of foam. He actually becomes rather fond of trying out new brews at Muggle coffee shops just for kicks, though one of his favorites so far is the white chocolate mocha. He also loves hot chocolate, especially white hot chocolate.

Desi: Tea! Earl Gray tea is her absolute favorite thing to have in the morning, alongside a French croissant.

Eli: Butterbeer, though after moving to the States and living as a Muggle, he also became very fond of root beer and Coca Cola. (Eli honestly has never had much respect for what drinks/foods belong to which times of the day, especially given how bonkers his schedule can be with rehearsals and the parties he'll stay up all night for, so yes, he will drink soda "for breakfast," so to speak.)

(And Jackson and Bat are here!)

What is your character’s favourite food and who cooks it best?

Carewyn: Potato crisps! Walkers makes good ones.

Jacob: As mentioned before, chocolate! As a kid he loved Cadbury eggs and Yorkie Bars, but as an adult traveling the world, he falls in love with Richart and Ghirardelli chocolate.

Lane: Pikelets! She learned how to make them at home early on and she's always loved making them for her bairns Carewyn and Jacob.

Erik: Cinnamon coffee cake! He also likes Red Hot candies.

Ana: Fresh bread, right out of the oven. Her favorite kind is German brown bread.

Farid: Curry! All kinds. One of his favorite recipes to make himself is a lamb curry with chopped apple, onion, potatoes, and golden raisins, as well as a bunch of spices.

Jackson: Crepes, specifically with strawberries and powdered sugar! He's become very fond of making them in the mornings for both himself and Monty.

Bat: This is going to sound so cliche if you know about Bat's love of Christmas...but figgy pudding. No one can make it like his mum used to!

Ru: Aaaaaaapples. This water horse will eat most anything, but they love apples. Apple pie and apple turnovers are their friend -- it doesn't take long for their other half Estrid @thatravenpuffwitch to figure this out, so she'll sometimes surprise them by going to the market and picking some up from time to time.

Ed: Cheesecake. Ed loves most pastries, but cheesecake is his OTL and it doesn't matter how cheap it is, he will always indulge in some. When he first tried Mrs. Weasley's cheesecake, he went very quiet as he ate the whole thing without stopping and he was grinning and flushed like a happy schoolboy for the entire rest of the day, he was so happy.

Desi: Croissants! Though while traveling she also tries and takes a liking to cornish pasties.

Eli: Custard. He also takes a liking to Jello, pudding, and meatballs, while living in the States.

OC Ask!

11/3/20 - i’m working on my “The Clash: London Calling” review!

ich arbeite an meinem “The Clash: London Calling” besprechung!

Cybertronix and accents

So, Cybertronix does have different dialects, most notably those of the colonies, the “founder’s tongue” of the old city-states where insular cultures have created their own version of the planet wide language, and the half code/half dialect junker talk, incredibly mutable and diverse, sometimes practically a foreign language to a junker from just the other side of the same city. Different dialects are still all Cybertronix, and mostly mutually intelligible, but they contribute a lot to perception and personality.

This means, of course, I’m gonna assign human accents to represent the vibes of a character’s speech.

(by the way, if you’re worried that I’m just taking a grab bag of random foreign accents and throwing them around, I’m not. Most of these accents I’ve heard from real people before, usually other uni students or roommates. I’m not just relying on stereotypical media portrayals and bad voice acting, I’m drawing on personal experience and associations with fond memories of my international friends.)

-40′s/50′s American Television Actors Accent: bog-standard “proper” Cybertronix, which of course is mostly just Iacon, Praxus, Polyhex, and Altihex. Upper class society in Rodion also sound like this.

people who sound like this: Orion Pax, Minimus Ambus, Arcee, Blackarachnia and Deadlock but very rough around the edges. Shockwave affects an accent like this to be more acceptable to his audience in the Senate. The Grand Architect technically has this accent, but the most striking thing about his voice is how impassive and intimidating he sounds, rather than his pronunciation.

-Posh Snobbish British Schoolboys Accent: much of Vos, where the higher you go, the more upper class you are, and thus the more posh and snobbish you are.

people who sound like this: Starscream, but he affects a heavier accent than he had as a middle class child. Skywarp and Thundercracker have mostly dropped theirs. Brainstorm, Perceptor. Slipstream has a very posh accent.

-German, But Like Specifically A Bavarian Accent: Tesarus, Helex, and parts of rural Tyrest. A strong, “noble” accent left over from a huge united empire prior to a united Cybertron, still considered a mark of a member of the backbone of society.

people who sound like this: Predaking, Tarantulas, Fort Max, Tailgate, Dion.

-German, But Like Specifically A Westphalian Accent: Tesarus mostly, with some communities in Stanix and groundside Vos. Considered rougher than the more “cultured” version above.

people who sound like this: Blitzwing, Makeshift, Jhiaxus, Shockwave when he gets too emotional or tired and forgets to stay upper class. Forestock also tries to drop this accent, but a lil less successfully.

(I’m also imagining some mix of Standard American German and Pennsylvania Dutch accents to be an in-between blend of standard Cybertronix and thicker Tesaran-style dialects.)

-Swiss French Because I’ll Be Damned Before I Willingly Give Anything Of France To Any Character Of Mine, Even An Accent: Tyrest and some of Praxus, also Crystal City. Lovely and charming, supposedly a mark of someone graceful and benign.

people who sound like this: Councilmember Tyrest, Skyfire, Terminus although he’s lost much of his accent. Prowl, Bluestreak, Smokescreen in his natural voice but he often obfuscates his accent.

-That Brooklyn Or Jersey Accent Where You Pronounce It Like Joizee: lower class Iacon, Polyhex, and most of Rodion. Sometimes called the junker’s accent (which is terribly inaccurate), folks with this accent aren’t going to be lauded by the upper class anytime soon. Full of slang and euphemisms.

people who sound like this: Rumble and Frenzy, Ravage, Powerglide, Swindle. Nightracer, Bludgeon, Wheelie, and Red Alert all have a specific version of this that marks them as junkers. Springer used to, but he’s started copying Prowl’s accent now. Hot Rod to a small degree.

-An Absolute Ace Aussie Accent: Carcer! Which, much like Australia, started as a penal colony that then turned into a regular colony and then a nation proper. It’s younger than the other colonies, and far from Cybertron, so they’re considered kind of backward and stupid, which means anyone with their accent is often automatically dismissed.

people who sound like this: listen I need you to imagine Ariel speaking like Steve Irwin but about to punch a croc instead of wrestle it. Also Obsidian.

-Brazilian, But Like Specifically Recife Accent: Tyger Pax, thickest in the city itself. Very animated and vibrant, super expressive, sometimes criticized for being loud, but it’s also very fun to listen to.

people who sound like this: Jazz, Alpha Trion but he sounds like he’s faking it, First Aid. Rosanna has been touring Cybertron as a pop star for long enough that she needs to deliberately practice her accent to keep it.

-Brazilian, But Like Specifically Southern Accent: Velocitron! Not only is the accent notable, but the speed at which they speak is very distinctive. They gotta say Everything Right Now Immediately.

people who sound like this: Moonracer, Swerve, Blurr (but he’s got a stutter too), Override, Knock Out.

-Portuguese, As In The Country, Which Is Different Than A Brazilian Accent: Eukaris! They speak very casually, unhurried, like a nice warm evening around the dinner table with family.

people who sound like this: Lickety-Split. I haven’t decided who else is from Eukaris yet.

-Sort Of Yiddish, Sort Of Polish, Sort Of Greek, I’m Thinking Specifically Of One Tricultural Friend’s Accent: Much of Tarn, a few parts of Kaon, and bits of Helex. Not wildly different from standard Cybertronix, but strong and heated and very opinionated, a good accent to be angry in.

people who sound like this: Cogman, Wheeljack, Lugnut, Megatron though he’s lost some of it.

-Russian, Not Evil Movie Villain Russian, Just A Real Russian Accent: Kaon and a good half of Tarn. They are very precise with what they mean, but not so much with the grammar and order of their words, which means their precision communication is often lost on outsiders.

people who sound like this: Strika, Damus, Wasp.

-Very Sweet, Folksy Ukrainian Accent: Devisiun! On a colony where everyone is born with siblings, most folks also adopt a pattern of speaking with or over people, especially with family and people they know best. A Cybertronian will consider a Devisian rude for talking in the middle of their sentence, but that’s a normal conversation for a Devisian! They’d consider it rude if the Cybertronian didn’t start responding to them in the middle of their sentence.

people who sound like this: Jetfire and Jetstorm, complete with finishing each other’s sentences.

-Korean Accent, Which Is Actually Closest To The Original Primal Vernacular: Caminus! They held on very tightly to their roots as a colony founded directly by one of the first Primes, so they’ve preserved a version of the first language that, while mutated by usage over the megavorns, is still closely connected to the tongue of the ancients.

people who sound like this: Windblade, Chromia, Firestar, Flareup, Nautica, some people swear Maccadam has a hint of this accent.

-Deep Southern Redneck Bumpkin Drawl From Down On The Range Accent: the moons! Luna 1 and 2 have very similar dialects, and very thick country drawls.

people who sound like this: Ironhide, Cosmos, Bulkhead, Kup uses this one because he picked it up on an early visit to Luna 1 and liked it so he keeps it.

Writers of Literature

Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde (16 October 1854 – 30 November 1900) was an Irish poet and playwright. After writing in different forms throughout the 1880s, he became one of London's most popular playwrights in the early 1890s. He is best remembered for his epigrams and plays, his novel The Picture of Dorian Gray, as well as the circumstances of his imprisonment and early death.

Wilde's parents were successful Anglo-Irish intellectuals in Dublin. Their son became fluent in French and German early in life. At university, Wilde read Greats; he proved himself to be an outstanding classicist, first at Dublin, then at Oxford. He became known for his involvement in the rising philosophy of aestheticism, led by two of his tutors, Walter Pater and John Ruskin. After university, Wilde moved to London into fashionable cultural and social circles.

As a spokesman for aestheticism, he tried his hand at various literary activities: he published a book of poems, lectured in the United States and Canada on the new "English Renaissance in Art", and then returned to London where he worked prolifically as a journalist. Known for his biting wit, flamboyant dress and glittering conversational skill, Wilde became one of the best-known personalities of his day. At the turn of the 1890s, he refined his ideas about the supremacy of art in a series of dialogues and essays, and incorporated themes of decadence, duplicity, and beauty into what would be his only novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray (1890). The opportunity to construct aesthetic details precisely, and combine them with larger social themes, drew Wilde to write drama. He wrote Salome (1891) in French while in Paris but it was refused a licence for England due to an absolute prohibition on the portrayal of Biblical subjects on the English stage. Unperturbed, Wilde produced four society comedies in the early 1890s, which made him one of the most successful playwrights of late-Victorian London.

At the height of his fame and success, while The Importance of Being Earnest (1895) was still being performed in London, Wilde had the Marquess of Queensberry prosecuted for criminal libel. The Marquess was the father of Wilde's lover, Lord Alfred Douglas. The libel trial unearthed evidence that caused Wilde to drop his charges and led to his own arrest and trial for gross indecency with men. After two more trials he was convicted and sentenced to two years' hard labour, the maximum penalty, and was jailed from 1895 to 1897. During his last year in prison, he wrote De Profundis (published posthumously in 1905), a long letter which discusses his spiritual journey through his trials, forming a dark counterpoint to his earlier philosophy of pleasure. Upon his release, he left immediately for France, never to return to Ireland or Britain. There he wrote his last work, The Ballad of Reading Gaol (1898), a long poem commemorating the harsh rhythms of prison life. He died destitute in Paris at the age of 46.

Eric Arthur Blair (25 June 1903 – 21 January 1950),  better known by his pen name George Orwell, was an English novelist, essayist, journalist, and critic. His work is marked by lucid prose, awareness of social injustice, opposition to totalitarianism, and outspoken support of democratic socialism.

Orwell wrote literary criticism, poetry, fiction, and polemical journalism. He is best known for the allegorical novella Animal Farm (1945) and the dystopian novel Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949). His non-fiction works, including The Road to Wigan Pier (1937), documenting his experience of working class life in the north of England, and Homage to Catalonia (1938), an account of his experiences in the Spanish Civil War, are widely acclaimed, as are his essays on politics, literature, language, and culture. In 2008, The Times ranked him second on a list of "The 50 greatest British writers since 1945".

Orwell's work continues to influence popular and political culture, and the term Orwellian – descriptive of totalitarian or authoritarian social practices – has entered the language together with many of his neologisms, including Big Brother, Thought Police, Room 101, memory hole, newspeak, doublethink, proles, unperson, and thoughtcrime.

William Cuthbert Faulkner September 25, 1897 – July 6, 1962) was an American writer and Nobel Prizelaureate from Oxford, Mississippi. Faulkner wrote novels, short stories, a play, poetry, essays, and screenplays. He is primarily known for his novels and short stories set in the fictional Yoknapatawpha County, based on Lafayette County, Mississippi, where he spent most of his life.

Faulkner is one of the most celebrated writers in American literature generally and Southern literature specifically. Though his work was published as early as 1919, and largely during the 1920s and 1930s, Faulkner was not widely known until receiving the 1949 Nobel Prize in Literature, for which he became the only Mississippi-born Nobel winner. Two of his works, A Fable (1954) and his last novel The Reivers (1962), won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. In 1998, the Modern Library ranked his 1929 novel The Sound and the Fury sixth on its list of the 100 best English-language novels of the 20th century; also on the list were As I Lay Dying (1930) and Light in August (1932). Absalom, Absalom! (1936) appears on similar lists. His first published story, "A Rose for Emily", is one of the most famous an American has written.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens (November 30, 1835 – April 21, 1910),  better known by his pen name Mark Twain, was an American writer, humorist, entrepreneur, publisher, and lecturer. Among his novels are The Adventures of Tom Sawyer(1876) and its sequel, the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885), the latter often called "The Great American Novel".

Twain was raised in Hannibal, Missouri, which later provided the setting for Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. He served an apprenticeship with a printer and then worked as a typesetter, contributing articles to the newspaper of his older brother Orion Clemens. He later became a riverboat pilot on the Mississippi River before heading west to join Orion in Nevada. He referred humorously to his lack of success at mining, turning to journalism for the Virginia City Territorial Enterprise. His humorous story, "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County", was published in 1865, based on a story that he heard at Angels Hotel in Angels Camp, California where he had spent some time as a miner. The short story brought international attention and was even translated into French.His wit and satire, in prose and in speech, earned praise from critics and peers, and he was a friend to presidents, artists, industrialists, and European royalty.

Twain earned a great deal of money from his writings and lectures, but he invested in ventures that lost most of it—notably the Paige Compositor, a mechanical typesetter that failed because of its complexity and imprecision. He filed for bankruptcy in the wake of these financial setbacks, but he eventually overcame his financial troubles with the help of Henry Huttleston Rogers. He chose to pay all his pre-bankruptcy creditors in full, even after he had no legal responsibility to do so.

Twain was born shortly after an appearance of Halley's Comet, and he predicted that he would "go out with it" as well; he died the day after the comet returned. He was lauded as the "greatest humorist this country has produced",and William Faulkner called him "the father of American literature".

Joseph Conrad Józef Teodor Konrad Korzeniowski; 3 December 1857 – 3 August 1924) was a Polish-British writer regarded as one of the greatest novelists to write in the English language. He joined the British merchant marine in 1878, and was granted British citizenship in 1886. Though he did not speak English fluently until his twenties, he was a master prose stylist who brought a non-English sensibility into English literature.He wrote stories and novels, many with a nautical setting, that depict trials of the human spirit in the midst of an impassive, inscrutable universe.

Conrad is considered an early modernist, though his works still contain elements of 19th-century realism.His narrative style and anti-heroic characters have influenced numerous authors, and many films have been adapted from, or inspired by, his works.

Writing in the heyday of the British Empire, Conrad drew on, among other things, his native Poland's national experiences and his own experiences in the French and British merchant navies, to create short stories and novels that reflect aspects of a European-dominated world —including imperialism and colonialism —and that profoundly explore the human psyche. @maamdoralakwatsera

hayden’s multilingual muses: a masterlist.

the only exclusion i made for this list is that it is common knowledge that demigods can understand the language of their godly relation.

*note: native languages are italicized!

late update: 01.28.24

acid green (desc): binary & english fluently.

aeron poindextor i (pjo): norwegian & english fluently; learning mandarin chinese.

anakin di angelo-solace (pjo): english fluently; learning italian.

asph carpenter (pjo): english fluently; able to call upon any language through his father.

casper westergaard i (desc): english & danish fluently.

ceader simmons (pjo): english & french fluently.

daxx (misc): english fluently; has translation software to understand & speak other languages as needed.

fane anderson (desc): english & american sign language fluently.

forest fitzherbert (desc): english and german fluently.

graham legume (desc): french & english fluently.

halcyon olwen (desc): pixie & english fluently.

jace valencia (pjo): spanish & english fluently. can speak & sign all languages if spoken to him first (explanation).

jakke gleipnif (misc): slovak, spanish, & german & english fluently; american & slovak sign languages fluently.

javan desmond (pjo): italian & english fluently.

jeckson killgrave (misc): german, english, & french fluently.

keir campbell-foster (misc): french, english, & spanish fluently.

khya porter (desc): english fluently; learning french.

mills parker (pjo): english fluently; learning spanish; a few asl signs picked up, but no grasp on grammar.

myrick mouse (desc): english fluently; spanish picked up.

orion gothel (desc): english fluently; learning german.

rhis erebusdóttir iv (pjo): danish & english fluently; learning french.

rowan rolfe (desc): middle english & modern english fluently (though he never uses middle english).

theo porter (desc): english fluently; learning french.

tris capulet (pjo): english & french fluently.

vanta black (misc): english, spanish, & all other known languages fluently.

zak necrodopolous (misc): english & old zombie tongue fluently; american sign language shakily (it gets the point across).

zayne mckellen (desc): french & english fluently.

11 Questions Tag - Part III

Thanks to the lovely @starzablaze @captain-timetraveldreamer @readinglikewildfire  for tagging me!

1. Favorite smell? Cinnamon 2. Music preferences, and recs, if any. I have really eclectic music tastes and like a tonne of stuff. 3. If you were a famous personality, what would your most celebrated quote be? I don’t tend to remember the memorable stuff I say 😂 4. Favorite weather and favorite season. 15-20 degrees Celsius and Spring 5. Favorite beverage? Tea! (yorkshire tea) 6. Name 5 of your hobbies. Traveling, writing, bullet journaling and regular journaling, people-watching and reading of course. 7. What do you do when you’re sad or royally pissed? I answered this question for sad in Part II so I’ll just say what I do when I’m pissed. I don’t get angry that easily but when I do I need to vent because I’m hate confrontations and I’d always rather calm myself down then start fights. 8. Ideal s/o Intelligent, kind, caring, honest, funny and thoughtful. 9. Moon or stars? Why? Stars because you can almost always seen the moon but the seeing the stars is more special. Also, there’s a meteor shower (The Perseids) every year for a few days around the time of my birthday so every single year since I was little I’ve sat and watched the shooting stars on my birthday with my friends or parents and made a bunch of additional birthday wishes so I’ve always loved the stars. 10. When did you join Tumblr and why? Ages ago! Probably 5-6 years ago I don’t even remember. I had an aesthetic blog first and then got into fandom and just tried out loads of things. I started posting on this blog in March of this year though because I had the biggest book hangover after reading ACOMAF and knew I had to delve into the depths of Tumblr for fanart and fic because I was already trash  11. Eye and hair color + nature? Eye colour - hazel; Hair colour - silvery white (but my natural hair colour is light brown)

1. Dusk or Dawn and why? Dusk! Dawn kinda creeps up on you really slowly but the sun puts on a real show at twilight and it’s pretty hard to ignore. I sit in silence and watch at least 2 minutes of the sunset almost every single day. 2. Are you a tea or coffee kind of person? Tea 3. A story of a mischief done by you in your childhood. I skipped school when I was 9, before I even knew what skipping school was. I hated English class so I convinced a bunch of my friends not to go to our English class which was our last one for the day. We told the rest of our classmates that they were giving out free toys in the school shop so we could leave without being seen and for some reason they believed us and went except for this one girl who stayed behind, saw us leave and told on us afterwards. When the parent teacher conference happened, the parents of all the other kids who had cut class knew about it but my mum was the only one who had no idea because I never told her. Needless to say she was angry 😂 4. If you were given a wish what would you wish for? To adapt to life in Australia quickly and easily and to have fun on my year abroad before I go back home. 5. What do you wish to change about yourself and the world? I wish to be less harsh and critical and demanding of myself and I wish the world was more kind and empathetic.  6. Outdoor attire preferences?(fancy) As in formal wear? Chiffon, satin or silk are my go to fabrics because they kind of flow really nicely over every curve. I like pretty classic cuts, tight at the waist, flowing down and with more of a plunging neckline.  7. Which book character do you want to be your other half and why? I think either Dorian Havilliard, Cassian or Julian Blackthorn. They are all kind, compassionate, intelligent and loyal. 8. What would you do if you were given a million dollars? I’ve answered this in part I so I’ll just skip it now 9. Favourite colour and eye colour I don’t really have a favourite colour but I’ll say blue and favourite eye colour is blue too. 10. If you had to choose between your family and boyfriend, who would you choose? Family. 11. Favourite TV show and rec Friends, Parks and Rec, the Office, Game of Thrones.

1. Do you have any piercings or tattoos, what are they? I don’t have any tattoos but I have 5 piercings: four lobe piercings, two in each ear and a helix piercing. 2. Who is your style icon? Alexa Chung. Emily Ratajkowski. Jane Birkin. Vanessa Hudgens. Orion Carloto. Kate La Vie. (do yourself a favour and look these last two up on insta because they are so fab!) 3. Are you a night shower or a morning shower person? Night shower. 4. What do you study at school if you are at school? If you’re not at school what do you do instead? I’m at university and I study (broadcast) journalism. 5. Do you speak multiple languages? What are they? I’m fluent in English and Romanian, intermediate in French, can understand a lot of Italian and know a bunch of random words and phrases in so many other languages like Spanish, German or Japanese because I love linguistics so much! 6. What do you like most about where you live? I normally live in the UK but I’ve just moved 2 days ago and I didn’t time to see much of the new country where I live now so I’m going to say what I like best about the UK which is the weather. I bitch and moan about it all the time but as someone who’s lived in places where it gets really hot or really cold, the English weather is pretty decent most of the time. 7. Favorite piece of jewellery, why? My pandora bracelet. I’ve had it for 4 years now and worn it every single day. Every charm has been a gift and it has a special meaning to me. 8.  Whats one random fact about yourself? I get pins and needles in my limbs extremely easily. 9. TOG or ACOTAR? UGH! How can I choose?! ACOTAR just because I’ve read ACOWAR last and it’s more recent and fresh in my mind. 10. Do you like fantasy books with a lot of romance or does it not really matter to you? I love romance so I prefer if the book has loads of romance in it but I don’t read books with a romance element exclusively. 11. Favorite color! I don’t really have one but blue I guess.

I tag: @wpbianca99 @cass-ian @cassianandfenrysaremyboyos @highfaenesta @highlady-casandra @ultimaterowan @ships-and-saints @azrielsiphons

1. If you could only do three of these for the rest of your life which would you choose: reading, writing, dancing, singing, watching TV/films, playing sports, travelling. 2. What’s your most prized possession? 3. What’s one thing everyone should have? 4. How do you unwind after a long day? 5. What are 3 pet peeves of yours? 6. If you don’t like a book do you stop reading it or do you persist in the hopes that it will get better? 7. What’s the most beautiful place you’ve seen? 8. What’s a name you really like that you’d use for a character or future child? 9. What’s one thing you wish you had the courage to do? 10. What’s the nicest compliment you’ve ever received? 11. Have you ever done a random act of kindness or had a stranger do one for you?

Annual Seed Catalogue Review Edition the Seventh

Wow! I've been doing this for seven years now. Am I running out of things to say? Is it harder for me (and the seed sellers) to find New! and Exciting! varieties of vegetables? Maybe! Or maybe not, once I get digging. So to speak. Are there a lot more small seed companies, with a wider range of heirloom and open pollinated varieties than when I started? I'd say so, in a big way. In spite of this, the over-all number of varieties continues to drop, on the national and global level, as older seed houses close or are purchased by the big players. So let's buy our seeds from the people who are (still) providing open pollinated seeds, grown by themselves or their neighbours as much as possible. I believe that locally grown seeds are just as important as locally grown food. Varieties adapt to their growing conditions over time, and if they are not grown here, they won't ultimately be as adapted to growing here. There is such a long list of new (to me at least) suppliers this year that I am going to try to stick strictly to new offerings here. (NOTE: I failed.) Don't forget that just about everybody has much more interesting stuff than I can hope to mention - click through and read. I also hope to post another list with my own personal favourites over the years, and who supplies them, later this month. Trends this year seem to be sorghum (continuing the interest in grains from the last few years), lots of lettuce and other greens, and flowers in red and white (guess why!) Also there seem to be extravagant quantities of peppers... there always are, but more lots. This isn't exactly a trend since practically the first vegetable anyone grows is tomatoes, but I have to say, there are A LOT of tomatoes out there. That is all. As ever, don't forget to check Seeds of Diversity's  Seed Catalogue Index.  Okay, let's get started... behind a fold because this is loooong... AgroHaitai: Best Ontario (only Ontario?) seed house with a wide selection of oriental vegetables. I haven't ordered from them but I have heard good reports from other people who have. Marked as new are Purple Sword celtuce (lettuce eaten for the thick stem), Peking strain kohlrabi, Big Leaf edible chrysanthemum, Purple Shanghai F1 bok choy, and Big Round Leaf Malabar spinach. Chuan pole (green) beans aren't new, but look very appealing. Unfortunately, most of their new items (and many of their older items) are F1 hybrids. Might still be worth looking into, especially things not likely to be sterile - F1 hybrids can be a good source of diversity for developing strains of locally adapted vegetables. Annapolis Seeds: This is their 9th year in business, and they have 50 new varieties this season. My eye is caught by Ba-Ye-Qi short-season sorghum, Fordhook zucchini, German foxtail millet, Golden Frills mustard, Gravedigger pea (I've wanted this one for years!), House tomato (yes that's right, you grow it in the house), Jimenez pole bean, Kogigo squash, Nord eggplant... in short, lots of fabulous things. The Cottage Gardener: One of the best of the newer Ontario seed houses. They have some interesting new offerings including Flashback Mix calendula from plant breeder Frank Morton, who also bred another new offering, Jester lettuce. He says it's his "favourite lettuce of all time" and given that lettuce is probably his speciality, that makes me sit up and pay attention. Nash's green kale is another offering from the new wave of vegetable breeders and sounds excellent, being very cold-tolerant. Padron peppers, Perfection Drumhead, and Purple Sprouting broccoli all appeal as well. Alas, the broccoli is not cold tolerant. Scarlet kale, Shungkyo Long Pink radish, and Thorburn's Terra Cotta tomato all strike me as really interesting. Eagle Creek Seed Potatoes: This year brings an updated website and a slightly expanded list of offerings, with potatoes like Rode Eerstelling, Blue Mac from Newfoundland, Arizona, Candy Cane, Carlton, and Pink Fir Apple. If you just can't narrow it down they offer a number of mixed packs on different themes including a tower and container mix. Edible Antiques:Some fun new things here including an owner-bred pepper, Queen of the North. Brighstone beans come with a romantic history, Biquinho pepper look great for growing in pots, Orion chickpeas look good, as do Red Swan beans. Strela Green lettuce looks fascinating - a very old form of lettuce. Greta's Organic Gardens: A very large collection of seeds from an Ottawa area grower. Greta is not listing which items are new, so I will just name some things that catch my eye, starting with Alba Regia Hungarian peppers, Amethyst Cream tomatoes, Grazia arugula, Baklouti Tunisian hot pepper, and Dakota Black popcorn. Fast Lady Northern Southern Pea is a selection from Carol Deppe that sounds like a must-try. H-19 Little Leaf pickling cucumber is a nifty little thing that can be hard to find. Lacinato Rainbow kale is a Frank Morton variety. San Cristoforo peas sound good as does Verdil spinach from German biodynamic breeders Kultursaat. It is apparently ideal for overwintering, which we do. Sand Mountain and White African sorghum fit into the sorghum trend. If you are a smoker (and even as a non-smoker I am kind of fascinated) she has the largest selection of tobacco seeds I've ever seen. If you must do it, grow your own! Harmonic Herbs: Not updated for 2017 as I post this. However, they are an Alberta company with a small but carefully curated selection, including some unusual and attractive items and strong in medicinal herbs and a good selection of seeds and hulless oats and barley. Hawthorn Farm: Things that look interesting to me include Macuzalito beans (a fairly recent farmer-developed variety from Honduras that cooks quickly), Purple Queen bean, April Green cabbage, Cardoon, and Bionda di Lyon Swiss chard. We tried Bloody Butcher corn one year; it grew to be huge and was the most raccoon-resistant variety we have tried. They have Tres Fine Maraichere Endive, Cougar heat-tolerant lettuce, Misato Rose winter radish (wow, check out the photo!), and Mutabile mildew-resistant (yay!) zucchini. New squashes include Lofthouse Landrace butternut, and also Honeynut mini-butternut. Blush, Green Tiger, Napoli paste and Pink Bumblebee tomatoes round out the list. Heritage Harvest Seed: One of Canada's most exciting collections of heritage seeds continues to grow. New this year I see Chevrier Verte and Drew's Dandy beans, Early Thorogreen Lima bean, Bush Crop cucumber, Honey tomato from Latvia, Fatalii peppers, and Mother Mary's Pie melon! Yes, for making pie. Wow. Source of several of our favourite beans, and the very successful Gnadenfeld melon. Hope Seeds: This Nova Scotian company specializes in east-coast heirlooms. New this year they have Acadian heirloom Caribee beans, Joseph Dugas runner beans, and the beautiful Baie Verte Indian bean. There is the Canadian classic Oka melon and like me they have discovered how amazing dried melon can be. Onaway potatoes from Maine are a classic boiling potato that stands crowding in the garden. They have also put together a large selection of seed collections for the thrifty-minded gardener who wants to try a range of things. Ferme Tournesol: Looks like someone had a mania for yellow pole beans last year (I know how it is to be bitten by the bug!) and they have 4 new ones right off the bat: Famille Ferland, Gold Marie, Golden Gate, and Grand-maman Dinel. There is also Mac pink tomato, Ruby Streaks mustard, Sweet Dakota Rose watermelon and Silver Sliver cucumber. Tokyo Bekana is a loose-leaf Chinese cabbage ideal for micro greens - huh! That sounds interesting. Jardins de l'Écoumène: Site is in French and a little awkward to manoeuvre, but new offerings (nouveautés) include Violet Foncé bunching onions - cute! - Guatamalan Blue squash, Adelin Morin tomato, Verdil spinach, and Souchet comestible (chufa, I believe).  Mapple Farm: They tend to stick to a small collection of very tried and true items, but there are some new things too. I see Black Coco and Gaucho beans, Gill's Golden Pippin squash (my fave!), Fisher's Acorn squash, and Montreal Market melon. Don't forget, they have Ken Allan's book on growing sweet potatoes in Canada - a must have if you are rebmotely interested in growing sweet potatoes. They are also the only source I know of for crosnes. And sweet potatoes; they have sweet potatoes. Naramata Seed Company: Not updated for 2017 at the time of posting this. They are also new to me this year, but it looks like they are a small company in the Kelowna area of BC. For 2016 they listed some unusual items such as Zebrune shallots, Wilma rutabaga, May Queen lettuce (the same as May King and recommended!), Ella Kropf and Passion Brune lettuces, Ironbark squash, Sanjaku Kiuru cucumber, and Small Shining Light watermelon (another good one), Kamo eggplant, and a good number of tomatoes including quite a few Italian paste tomatoes. Others that catch my eye include Blue Berries, Haley's Purple Comet, Abu Rawan, Maremenno, and Yellow Trifele. Norton Naturals: Well I take it back about Mapple Farm being the only source of crosnes. They are here too, along with edible daylilies (they all are but, you know; the classic and original), and double Tiger lilies, which I had no idea were edible in addition to being a beautiful garden plant. Those are their non-native plants; they also have native plants: Arrowhead, Camas (Quamash), Groundnuts, Hog Peanuts, 3 different Jerusalem artichokes, Spring Beauty (again, I had no idea it is edible), Meadow Garlic, and Ramps (Wild Leeks). In my experience, if you do not have the necessary fungus in the soil those last will not grow. Worth trying if you have a typical Ontario woodlot though. All these items are available as roots, not as seeds. Some are currently marked out of stock, but presumably that will change with the seasons. OSC (Ontario Seed Company): One of Ontario's older surviving seed houses, they list as new this year a number of F1 hybrid sweet corns, Rosa Bianca eggplant, and Little Gem, Red Oakleaf, Lollo Biondi, Outrageous Red lettuces. I believe that last is actually Outredgeous, which was bred by lettuce maestro Frank Morton. Eldorado Swiss chard has brilliant yellow stems. Snow Crown they describe as the best short-season cauliflower, but it's an F1 hybrid so likely sterile. Potager Ornemental de Catherine: Site is in French. A nice selection of things including Kamo Japanese eggplant, Sucrine du Berry squash, Norfolk spinach (a Canadian heirloom), Grand-maman Dinel beans (ditto), Soissons Vert beans (a classic for cassoulet), and Moranga, a traditional Brazilian squash with a short enough season to grow here. Prairie Garden Seeds: As I post this, Prairie Garden Seeds has not completed updating their site for 2017. However, as they note, they don't tend to change their listings much from year to year. They are the go-to source for many Canadian heirloom vegetables, and are particularly strong in tomatoes and beans, but also in grains - if you want small amounts of many historic Canadian wheats, or indeed all kinds of grains form all over the world. I note that they seem to be out of stock on quite a few items for 2017 but there is still lots and lots of interest there. Prices are very reasonable and amounts generous, but you cannot order online - you must send them an order form and a cheque. It's been well worth the trouble in my experience. Richter's Herbs: I don't see a breakout of what's new, but things that appeal to me include Agretti (salsola soda) an Italian salad herb, Spectrum Red Husk corn, Muncher cucumber, Peruvian ground cherry, Huizontle, Jicama, Tronchuda (Portuguese) kale, Kagraner lettuce, Okahijiki (a Japanese relative of the Agretti), Corvair spinach, Sylvetta, and Teff, and the lovely Gold Ball turnip. Salt Spring Seeds: At 30 years old this year, this is one of the original new wave of Canadian seed houses. They're celebrating with Cascade Ruby Flint corn, Chick pea of Spello, Ed's Red shallot, Nettles - don't laugh; if you don't have 'em you might want 'em - Streaker Naked barley (hull-less as you might guess), and Who Get's Kissed sweet corn. Semences du Portage: Site is in French. New items include Côte de Beaune lettuce, Tante Alice cucumber (we grew it last year and it was a trooper), Westlander kale, Kakai pumpkin (grown for the seeds), Cindarella pumpkins, Lutz Greenleaf beet, and Vermont Cranberry bean. Te-You flowering broccoli (gai lan), Raxe radish, Scarlet Ohno Revival turnip are from last year, but look delightful. They have a large selection of herbs both culinary and medicinal (and just plain pretty) as well as green manures, and a good selection of gardening books in French. Solana Seeds: This Quebec company has a big interest in peppers. In addition to Antigua striped eggplant, Lime basil, and Gold Medal tomato they have Corbaci Turkish peppers, Peach and Zavory habaneros, and Sandia and Sonora Anaheim peppers as new this year. Stellar Seeds:  A small list and new items are not indicated; but you can buy their complete collection for $98! Seeds are all locally grown on their own farm or others nearby in the Kootenays in B.C. Tatiana's TOMATObase: I don't see that Tatiana list new items as such; but there are 1233 varieties of tomatoes available as I type this. Tomato seeds are not necessarily grown this year, but in my experience the year of growth is marked on the packet and as tomato seeds should last at least 10 years if properly stored, you should be good to go. In addition to the largest collection of tomato seeds I know of, Tatiana also maintains the most complete encyclopedia of tomato varieties that I know of. She carries a small selection of other seeds, many for unusual items and with a tendancy towards Russian heirlooms. I believe she is still the only Canadian supplier of Grover Delaney watermelon, which I highly recommend. Terra Edibles: As far as I know the oldest of the new wave of small seed houses in Ontario, many of our favourite varieties were first found here. Cylindra beets are new (to them - I've been growing them and they are great for nice even pickles). Beurre de Rocquencourt beans, Emerite beans, Henderson's Bush Lima bean, and Monte Gusto pole wax bean are new, as is Skunk (Chester, or Flagg). That last is one I've been interested in for a while. It's a large black and white dry pole bean, originally grown by Iroquois in Vermont. Minibel, Old German, Siberian and Teardrop are new tomatoes this year, but they have a very impressive list of tomatoes already - hard to squeeze in more, I guess. They mention White Current tomato and Duane Baptiste Potato bean as being back by popular demand. I think that if Duane Baptiste Potato is not the same as my favourite Deseronto Potato bean they are at least mighty close. Terre Promise: Site is in French. Another vendor that's new to me. Their selection is fairly small but practically the first new thing I saw was Roscoff (Keravel) onions. I've been growing these for a couple of years from seeds I got directly from France with enormous trouble and expense, and I have not regretted it. THEY ARE THE BEST. Rat-Tailed radishes and a mix of Sunflowers are their only other new items. They have a nice selection of beans and St. Hubert (soup) peas, and some unusual tomatoes. Urban Harvest: New (for them) this year is my favourite herb, Summer Savory. Look also for Druzba tomato, Dancing with Smurfs tomato, Montreal Tasty tomato, Lemon Drop pepper, Padron pepper, Doe Hill pepper (and Serrano, and Espelette, and Gold Nugget), Super Zagross cucumber, and Who Gets Kissed corn. Urban Tomato: is a bit vague about newness, but you can sort their offerings that way. From the first couple of pages, then; Multi-Hued quinoa, Musquée de Provence squash, Moonglow tomato, Turkey Craw pole bean, Purple Hopi pole bean. Tomatoes are their specialty, and there is a large selection including White Queen and White Mikado, and Una Heartstock cherry tomato. Wild Rose Heritage Seed Company: This Alberta seed company is a new discovery for me. They have a lot of new beans this year: Derby Bush, Dutch Brown, Light Red Kidney, Oceanis, Orca, Pinto, Red Mexican, Tenderette and Tendergreen. There's also Cosmic Purple and Solar Yellow carrots, Simonet Corn, Sweet Salsa pepper, and Red Kuri squash. You can even grow your own Victoria rhubarb from seed. William Dam Seeds: A long-time favourite of Ontario home and market gardeners; in addition to reasdonably priced seeds they have an excellent selection of gardeners paraphernalia.Their selection of new vegetables is small, and leans more towards F1 hybrids than suits my taste; however their catalogue is, as ever, full of tried and true favourites. They do have new this year Calima French filet bean, Algarve pole bean, Eva pole bean, and Red Volants kale. It looks like Orient Wonder has replaced Farmers' Long yard-long bean. They have quite a few new lettuces; Edox, Susana MI, Leny, Muir, Tropicana, Lettony and Deronda. Some of those are organic and some not. from Seasonal Ontario Food http://seasonalontariofood.blogspot.com/2017/01/annual-seed-catalogue-review-edition.html

Hello!

This is my cat! Her name is Bubbalou (Bub for short) - she’s so cute! I’m reading “The Almost Nearly Perfect People” (Michael Booth) and it’s super interesting!

Hallo!

Das ist meine Katze! Sie heißt Bubbalou (Bub der Kürze halber) - sie ist so süß! Ich lese “Die Fast Perfekten Menschen” (Michael Booth) und es ist super interessant!

27/2/20 - i’m planning an assignment! finally!

ich plane eine Aufgabe! schließlich!

hello, i’m back! my new year’s resolution is to start writing simple captions on my posts in both english and german so i can practice, so keep an eye out!

hallo, ich bin wieder da! mein Neujahrvorsatz ist anfangen schreiben einfache Untertitel am meine Posts sowohl Englisch und Deutsch damit ich üben kann, also pass auf!

(if you’re a native German speaker please note my German is very basic so this was mostly through translating phrases online, any criticisms/corrections would be really welcome! danke schön!)

Cinderelly, Cinderelly, night and day, it’s Cinderelly~... ^.^ Okay..before I jump into the next part of the Cinderella AU, here’s your usual appetizer of random historical/etc. notes!

Although carriages were developed centuries earlier, actual coaches like the kind we think of from Cinderella stories were first developed in the late 16th century in Hungary, specifically a little town called Kocs. (The word “coach” and its alternatives in other languages, such as the German Kutsche and the Spanish and Portuguese coche, are thought to have been derived from the Hungarian kocsi, meaning “of Kocs.”) They then really caught on in the rest of Europe after Queen Elizabeth I of England started using them in the 1580s. The terms “coach” and “carriage” are often used interchangeably, but if one wanted to pin-point the advancements coaches specifically made in contrast to carriages of the past, there are a few differences one can pick out in how they’re built. Coaches generally are four-wheeled enclosed vehicles with doors and/or windows (glass was added in later centuries), and often include a “boot” seat on the outside for a footman and/or luggage to sit on. Coaches also generally have a reputation for providing a smoother ride than previous modes of transport because they’re suspended between the wheels rather than directly over or beside them. After the invention of the coach, one can find carriages (royal ones, in particular) adopting some of these same attributes.

Sadly wheelchairs really weren’t a thing in the 16th century. The first self-propelled wheeled chairs were developed in the mid-17th century and refined in the 18th, with sedan chairs or litters (A.K.A. chairs you carried) generally being used by the nobility prior to that. But there’s no way in Hell I’m not going to give McNully the independence he deserves, so I used a completely anachronistic design inspired by this antique wheelchair I found online, made circa around the 1840′s. Hey, this is a fantasy world anyway, so bleh. :P The flower detailing on the wheel is supposed to evoke an emblem I see being on Florence’s green and gold coat of arms (get it? “Florence?” “Flora?”). You might also notice that McNully has little Snitch-like “wing” frills on each of his buttons! XD

Another fun thing I learned while doing research -- although cloaks were often worn for warmth during the medieval period and beyond, in England during the Elizabethan era, their use was actually actively discouraged and even prohibited, as they were associated with criminals and rebels! Therefore it was common for a lot of English noblemen and women to wear thicker clothing made of wool and accessories like muffs, gloves, and even jackets for warmth instead. I tried very, very hard to find historically accurate examples of period-worthy jackets and capes for women around the time of the Renaissance, and was very frustrated to find a lot of fantasy-esque costume pieces or historical clothing from later eras that were simply mislabeled -- but I did find one lovely recreation of a 16th century wool jacket, so that’s what I used as reference for Carewyn’s jacket in this sketch, though I personally imagine it as a dark red, so as to better blend with her burnt orange and beige servant’s uniform. Bill’s uniform is based off a real castle guard uniform from early 16th century France, though with a much simpler color palette (I see Royaume’s colors being blue and red). Like with McNully’s chair, there’s a crown on the chest of Bill’s uniform, which I see being on Royaume’s coat of arms (“royaume” is literally French for “kingdom”).

In her canon, Carewyn was born when Jacob was nine years old. Although in most of Carewyn and Jacob’s canon post-Portrait-Vault, they end up being only two years apart in age, that’s only because Jacob stopped aging while trapped in a Portrait for seven years. From Carewyn’s fifth year on, Jacob and Carewyn in canon therefore act much more like contemporaries, even though Jacob actually kind of ended up partially raising Carewyn alongside their mother Lane.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here – Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee and I hope you all enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

Every day over the next week, Carewyn met Orion at the gate of the palace of Royaume, and the two would spend an hour or so together. Orion would ask her about life at the palace, Carewyn would playfully respond, and sooner or later, they’d end up getting diverted and talking about something else completely, whether the upcoming Winter Festival, the language of flowers, art, poetry, the meaning of life, music, fencing, or (after seeing a rather beautiful eagle flying overhead) what it might be like to fly. Carewyn honestly wasn’t entirely sure what Orion got out of their meetings besides entertainment, and naturally she couldn’t afford to indulge in such entertainment too long, when she had so much work to do around the castle and she still had to find out where Jacob was positioned. But she had to admit, with the King and Queen having invited Iris over to stay in one of the guest suites at the palace for the remainder of the month, Carewyn didn’t mind having an excuse to stay far away from her cousin. Lately Carewyn had actively planned her days so that she could clean the guest suites at teatime, when Iris would be in one of the foyers with the King, Queen, and Prince on the opposite side of the palace. She did not want a repeat of the other day, after all...particularly since she’d also need time to change out of the nicer, collared dresses she’d wear when spending time with Orion.

Orion, meanwhile, was of course getting a bit more than entertainment out of his and Carewyn’s meetings. Through speaking with Carewyn, he’d sussed out some very helpful information about Royaumanian culture, the dynamics within Royaume’s royal family, and both their and their country’s financial state. One day he told his closest confidantes at court, Skye and McNully, some of what he’d learned...but Skye didn’t react quite as favorably as Orion had expected.

“...I gave Lady Cromwell a copy of the sheet music for ‘No One is Alone’ last week -- you remember the song, of course? And from what I understand, Prince Henri and the castle staff have quite taken to it. Not that I’m surprised -- Carewyn has a very soothing voice. I’m sure she performed it very well. But the Prince listening to the words at all is a good sign -- I even asked Carewyn if the Prince enjoyed them, and she said she believed so. She also found their message meaningful...one of Florence’s best-loved anti-War songs, and one about looking through another’s eyes and forgiving past grievances, no less! That can only be a good sign, for Royaumanians to take heart in it. It surely must have been fate that Lady Cromwell and I collided at the market -- I had a feeling we were kindred spirits, when she came to my aid, but now I am most assured of it. I might hazard a guess that she wishes for peace just as much as I -- for the sake of her brother fighting in the field, yes, but also selflessly for the sake of others, not wishing to see any other person in pain...”

“She sounds like a perfect knight in shining armor,” said Skye, her voice oddly cutting.

Orion looked up at Skye, startled by her tone. Her arms were crossed over the chest of her faded blue linen dress.

“Anything else you want to tell us about the fair Lady Cromwell,” she said rather icily, “or are you actually ready to talk about how you plan to end this War?”

Orion blinked slowly. “...I thought that we were already discussing that.”

“Really?” scoffed Skye. “‘Cause it sounds to me like you were busy gushing over your new conquest.”

“Conquest?” Orion repeated. His confused tone then melted into something more soothing and indulgent, “Oh -- no, Skye...you misunderstand me. I have no interest in courting Carewyn -- she’s just my contact point, with the palace.”

Skye gave a very loud, disbelieving snort. “Ha! Right, of course she is -- that’s why you can’t stop gushing about ‘Carewyn this’ and ‘Lady Cromwell that.’”

“Skye has a point, Orion,” said McNully, though his voice was a lot less confrontational. If anything he sounded almost sheepish. “I mean, about 85% of your report was about Lady Cromwell. You used her name over ten times just in the span of a minute.”

Amazingly Orion’s calm, hard-to-read expression didn’t crack. His hands clasped lightly in front of him.

“Lady Cromwell plays an essential part in this strategy. I’m an outsider looking in, without her insight -- a ship sailing blindly, without the light from a lighthouse to give me direction.”

“A lighthouse for a lost ship -- oh yeah, those sound like the words of someone who’s focusing on winning a war and not swooning over a pretty face,” said Skye scathingly. “Maybe instead of always running off and playing dress-up, you could actually bother to do your duty and go help fight on the battlefield for once!”

Orion’s lips came together tightly, but it didn’t make his expression any less composed. McNully shot Skye an uncomfortable, faintly disapproving look.

“Easy, Skye,” he murmured. “You know Orion -- ”

But Skye didn’t seem to hear McNully. Instead she tore into Orion.

“Face it, Orion -- you just like being treated like a commoner again and being able to make believe that you don’t have any responsibilities or worries...well, guess what? You’re not a commoner anymore! You’re the Prince of Florence -- you reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?”

Orion’s dark eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon Skye’s face.

“Carewyn’s not an unreasonable woman,” he said softly. “I’m certain she would understand the reason behind my secrecy.”

This, if anything, only seemed to make Skye madder.

“Of course she would,” she muttered sourly. “Little Lady Royaume can do no wrong in your eyes, can she?”

She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Orion feeling very resigned and confused. McNully gave a heavy sigh, before facing Orion with a more serious expression.

“She’s overreacting, as usual,” he said, “but she’s still 60% right. It’s risky enough for you to get this close to anyone right now, when your position as Crown Prince is threatened by the likes of Lord Malfoy. He’d frankly love to have something like that over you. But someone from Royaume? The granddaughter of one of the most powerful, wealthy, and feared noblemen in their country? Orion, that’s dangerous.”

Orion leaned his hands on the table, looking down at the map of Florence and Royaume laid out on top of it.

“McNully, I assure you...my objective has not changed,” he said very levelly. “Everything I have done is for Florence -- for peace and balance. I admit, Lady Cromwell is a fascinating woman, and certainly one to be admired...but I spend time with her to gather intelligence I can obtain nowhere else. That is all.”

McNully looked doubtful, but didn’t directly address it. Instead he said, “I understand she’s your eyes and ears inside the palace, and the intelligence you’re getting is valuable...but don’t forget, she isn’t on your team. She’s on Royaume’s. And right now, Royaume is kicking our tail out there, on the battlefield.”

Orion’s dark eyes drifted away from the table as McNully leaned his arms on the table himself.

“It’s getting bad again,” he murmured very seriously. “I know you said the palace of Royaume’s strapped for funds, but somehow or another, they’ve scrounged up enough to get more cannons, and their troops have been moving them around every couple of hours so that our men never know where they’re going to be firing from next. It’s been very effective. Whoever’s been giving Royaume’s King and Queen military strategy lately, they’re a bloody genius.”

McNully clearly was irritated about this, given the flash that shot through his narrowed eyes.

“Your father sent me a request for a counter-strategy this morning. You know it’s likely if the strategy isn’t one he can execute on his own, he may ask both you and me to join him there, on the front lines.”

Orion did not respond. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but there was something oddly detached and avoidant in his posture.

“I know you don’t want that, and you know I have faith in you,” said McNully, “but your strategy is a slow burn, Orion. It requires both patience and time...and we might not end up having as much of those as you think.”

Once again, Orion chose not to answer. McNully sighed again.

“You know I’ll be right behind you in a coach, if you need me,” he said tiredly. “Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion threw on his black traveling cloak and headed back to Royaume not long after, hoping to meet up with Carewyn for an evening stroll. There was a notable chill in the air -- if it got much colder, he thought that any rain might instead come down as sleet or maybe even snow.

When Orion arrived at the gate, however, he was met not by Carewyn, but by KC. She was dressed in a high-necked gown made of black velvet and holding a leather-bound book and a stack of parchment in her arms.

Orion tilted his head slightly to glance at the piece of parchment on the top of the stack, which had several “X’s” scattered over an oddly familiar map.

“Plans to bury some pirate treasure?” he asked pleasantly.

KC gave a lightly amused snort. “No, just military plans.”

Her lightly freckled face then grew a bit more serious. “I guess you’re here for Carewyn?”

Orion had been ready to ask more about the military plans KC was holding, but decided not to circle back to it when she changed the subject.

“Yes. Has she been detained?”

“I guess so...” said KC. Her lips twisted into a concerned frown as she looked out at the darkening sky.

Orion’s eyebrows knit together over his eyes slightly. “You seem concerned.”

KC bit her lip. “Mm...it’s just...well, you see, one of the royal carriages broke down earlier today, when the Queen was riding through the country with Lady Yaxley.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Lady Iris Yaxley, do you mean? Carewyn’s cousin?”

“Yes. No one was badly hurt, fortunately, but the Queen, Lady Iris, and the coachman and footman were forced to ride the horses back and leave the carriage behind. When they got back, they asked the royal carpenter, Charlie Weasley, to go fix it. Charlie said that he probably wouldn’t have the proper tools to fix it here at the castle, so Carewyn offered to ride out with him, so that their horses could drag the coach together to the Weasley family cottage, about forty minutes away. The problem is,” she said with a deepening frown, “they left over two hours ago, and they’re still not back yet. Bill headed out after them on his own horse not long before you got here...he’s Charlie’s brother, so he knows the route they would’ve taken...”

Orion’s dark eyes had narrowed significantly.

“Which road did Sir Weasley take after them?” he asked, his calm voice nonetheless touched with the faintest edge.

KC pointed. “Northwest -- toward the mountains.”

Orion nodded. “Thank you.”

And with this, he turned on his heel and rushed back toward where he thought he might find McNully’s coach. He needed to borrow a horse.

Setting one of the black horses free of the black coach, Orion rode off toward the mountains, his slightly-too-long dark hair flapping freely behind him. The road was well-marked, but it soon veered off into dense woods as it migrated up toward the mountains. Orion had never gone so far west into Royaume before, let alone far from Florence before. Despite himself, he had to acknowledge the beauty of the landscape. The views of the castle below were breathtaking -- it looked as tiny as a toy, and yet the infinite glass windows made it sparkle like some diamond-like beacon in the darkening sky. He wondered if his own palace in Florence looked so beautiful to others, at a distance. As much as he himself hadn’t been raised a prince, it was difficult for him to look at his own palace as anything other than a cage.

As he went further uphill and the sky darkened, it also grew colder. Orion was starting to see his own breath on the air. He thought of Carewyn alone in the cold, perhaps hurt, and had to take several deep breaths to sooth his nerves. He was never in a right state, when he let his thoughts run too wild or his fears chatter too loudly.

Finally Orion caught sight of two familiar ginger-headed men, standing by an overturned coach, covered in mud and missing one of its back wheels. One of the men was the tall, freckled castle guard from the other day who Carewyn called Bill, dressed in his high-collared blue and red patterned uniform tunic and matching white feathered, blue-velvet hat -- the other was much stockier, but no less freckled, dressed in a burgundy-colored tunic and loose brown pants and boots, and he wore his ginger hair in a ponytail not unlike Orion’s when he was at court. When Orion approached them, Bill immediately reacted with suspicion -- Orion explained what KC had told him and asked where Carewyn was, and was incredibly startled to hear her voice coming from over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m down here!”

Orion couldn’t help but feel a flash of concern. He raced over as if to look over the edge, but Charlie lashed out an arm in front of the taller man to stop him.

“Uh, I wouldn’t look over if I were you, mate,” he said, having trouble biting back his laughter despite himself.

He pointed at the broken carriage. Hanging over one of the doors was what looked like the burnt orange and beige skirt of a dress and several wool petticoats.

Orion blinked a few times in great surprise, his tanned cheeks darkening with a faint blush. Bill, however, reacted with anxiety.

“Carewyn!” he shouted over the ravine. “Are you in your underwear down there!?”

“Ugh -- well, I couldn’t very well climb down into this briar patch and wrench this wheel loose in my dress, could I?” Carewyn called back up rather haughtily. “At least my bloomers are slightly akin to the sorts of trousers you all wear.”

“You’ll catch a death of cold out here!” said Bill.

“I’m all right,” Carewyn reassured him. “Ulk -- ugh -- I have the wool jacket Andre made for me on...”

Charlie took a step forward, his eyes moved up toward the darkening sky pointedly so as not to look over the edge as he called down,

“Bill’s right, though, Carewyn -- it’s getting colder by the minute...and it’s getting dark too. Are you sure you can lift that thing up and over all by yourself?”

“Ugh...I admit, it’s a bit difficult!” she called back. “But I think I can manage.”

Recalling Carewyn’s blatant refusal of help in retrieving her horse, Orion -- still fighting back a slight blush -- called over the ravine himself.

“We do not question your capabilities, Carewyn,” he said patiently, “but would you like our help?”

“Ugh -- don’t be silly,” said Carewyn, sounding faintly haughty. “You, Charlie, and Bill would break your necks, climbing down here. And I’m still in my undergarments -- I have no interest in anyone seeing me prance around without proper clothes on, thank you.”

“It’s no use,” Charlie muttered under his breath, “I’ve tried to offer her help for the last hour, but she keeps putting me off, saying she’s fine. I don’t get why she feels like she has to do everything by herself...”

“Probably because she’s always had to, Charlie,” said Bill quietly. His voice betrayed a lot of sympathy and sadness as he exhaled through his nose.

Orion’s black eyes deepened with some compassion for Bill as he called back over the ravine to Carewyn,

“Your points are well made, my lady...but we’d still like to help you.”

“Ugh -- you can help me by leaving me my dignity and not looking over while I’m only half-dressed...ack...”

“Would you accept us doing more than that?”

“Urgh -- I am...sorry to have made you and Bill come out all this way -- but I’m all right, really.”

Bill glanced at Orion out the side of his eye, and then back at the cliff. Despite his distrust of the man, the eldest Weasley was sort of glad he wasn’t the only one who disliked how reticent Carewyn was to accept help.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said earnestly. “I was -- we were worried about you, Carewyn. You and Charlie.”

He and Orion glanced at each other. Bill wished the other man’s expression wasn’t so hard to read. The castle guard tried to twist his uncomfortable frown into a smile that Carewyn would hopefully be able to hear over the edge of the cliff.

“Come on...let’s get you and that wheel up and over so you can get back into your dress.”

There was a silence. Then Carewyn said a bit more quietly,

“...You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Wha -- oh, come off it, Carewyn!” said Charlie exasperatedly. “To hell we do! You think I was mucking about, calling you my pal and saying I needed to figure out a nickname for you? Now let us help you, or I’ll consider making that nickname an irritating one!”

There was another silence. Then Carewyn sighed very loudly and tiredly, and Orion couldn’t help but grin, because he could tell she’d finally given in.

“Oh, all right,” she said begrudgingly. “But I don’t really know how you’re going to help, when you can’t look at me.”

Orion closed his eyes.

“Describe your surroundings, Carewyn,” he said. “Paint a picture for me, with your words.”

“...Well, I’ve gotten the wheel out of the briar patch. I’m trying to roll it back up, but it’s as large as me, and the downward slope and the ice is making it difficult. Plus the wheel isn’t in great shape -- all of its spokes are broken, so there isn’t much for me to push up on, while rolling it uphill.”

“I would’ve told her to just forget it, but it’d be much easier for me to carve a new wheel if I have framework from the old one,” Charlie explained. “I’m already going to have to make the new spokes and hubcap completely out of wood instead of using any gold or metalwork, but it’s still going to take a lot of time...even more so if the old wheel framework can’t be saved...”

Orion considered the matter, visualizing the set-up down below on the inside of his eyelids. “...What’s left of the wheel...is it made of metal or wood?”

“Wood...but there seems to be some sort of metal lining around the rim, held on by nails.”

“That’d be for durability, I reckon,” said Charlie. “Wood alone would get chaffed badly on the ground, moving in a constant circle down cobblestones or over anything rocky.”

Orion opened his eyes and looked over the broken coach. His gaze lingered on the thick leather straps coming off of the front that no doubt would’ve attached it to their horses. Then he abruptly got up, rushing over to undo the straps from the carriage.

“What are you doing?” said Bill, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Orion quickly knotted the long, thick leather straps together with several complex-looking and strong knots.

“Carewyn,” he called over very calmly, “I’m going to lower this down to you -- use the buckle and loop it securely around the inside rim of the wheel, so that it’s tight. Give it a light tug when it’s secure.”

He blindly tossed one end of the rope made out of leather straps over the edge of the cliff. After a minute, he felt a light tug at the end.

“Gentlemen,” Orion murmured to the Weasleys, “I’ll need you to hold this, for just a moment. Carewyn,” he added, as Charlie and Bill both grabbed the end of the makeshift rope and he let go, “I’m going to need you to step onto the wheel yourself and hold on.”

“What?” said Carewyn. “Orion, you can’t lift both me and the wheel -- it’s far too much! I’ll climb up and out myself -- ”

“Not to worry, my lady -- none of us will be doing the lifting,” said Orion serenely.

He led both his black horse and Bill’s chestnut horse over by their reins, and -- taking the makeshift rope from Bill and Charlie again -- he looped the end under the straps of both his and Bill’s saddles. He gave several tugs at all of the connections to make sure they were tight and secure before mounting his horse.

“Sir Weasley, if you would assist me.”

Catching onto Orion’s idea at last, Bill rushed forward so he could jump up onto his own horse.

“Mr. Weasley, you may want to have your hands ready to help Carewyn climb out when she gets close to the top,” said Orion over his shoulder. “Sir Weasley, together now.”

With a lot of effort and strain, the two horses were able to lift Carewyn and the broken wheel up and out of the ravine. Once Carewyn was out, all three men averted their eyes so she could put her dress back on. Once she was suitably redressed in her orange-and-beige dress, snood, and dark scarlet wool jacket, she, Bill, and Orion helped Charlie secure some makeshift posts he’d carved out of some nearby tree branches under the broken coach so that their four horses could lift it up off the ground and help support it without its second back wheel. Then the four hobbled the coach up the mountain the rest of the way to the Weasley family cottage.

The home of the Weasley family, affectionately nicknamed “the Burrow,” was built up against the side of a hill. Attached to the house was a large farm with sprawling pastures and short, rustic wooden fences. Its roof had clearly been patched up multiple times over the years with whatever kind of wood was on hand, making it resemble a patchwork quilt.

When the group arrived, Bill and Charlie’s youngest sibling and only sister Ginny immediately ran out to greet them -- she’d seen them coming up over the horizon and was beyond thrilled to see that it was her eldest brothers. Bill and Charlie’s teenage brothers Percy, Fred, George, and Ron soon followed along after. Fred and George -- who were identical twins -- were quick to crow that Charlie had brought them an early birthday present (namely, the coach), and Percy scolded them that clearly it was for work and they should let it alone. Orion and Carewyn ended up staying back at a distance, both faintly baffled by the amount of warmth and noise emanating from the seven siblings as they chattered amongst themselves, constantly stepping on each other’s feet and interrupting what everyone else was saying. Neither of them had ever encountered a family quite like this before. When Bill and Charlie’s parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, emerged from the house, however, Molly very quickly bustled every last one of them inside, including Orion and Carewyn.

“In you go, the lot of you,” she said in a forceful, but very warm tone of voice. “You all look like you need some supper-- ”

“Oh -- no, Mrs. Weasley,” said Carewyn very quickly, “I couldn’t impose -- ”

“Nonsense, dear!” said Molly, as she took Carewyn’s hands and led her inside. “Why, you’re positively freezing! To think, you came all the way out here without a proper muff for your hands...”

“I had to help Charlie with the carriage,” Carewyn said, her eyes drawn away awkwardly rather than looking at Molly, “I couldn’t hope to have my hands free, using a muff...”

“Then both of you should come inside and get warm,” said Arthur, startling Orion with an amiable clap on the back. “Any friend of Bill and Charlie’s is a friend of our family.”

Carewyn had never been the subject of such coddling and generosity before in her life. Her mother had always taught her to treat people with respect and compassion, of course, but she had been a soft-spoken and understated person, and their family life had always been very quiet. And of course at the Cromwell estate, it had been less modest and quiet, but far less affectionate as well. Never had she ever visited such a loud, crowded, and faintly uncomfortable place that still nonetheless felt like a home, full of warmth and love.

Even Orion found himself feeling a bit unsettled by the Weasley family’s overwhelming hospitality. He’d been in plenty of unruly, crowded, and loud settings like this before -- but none of them had ever been quite this...well, jovial. It made it so that Orion yearned for peace, quiet, and returned distance, and yet also couldn’t help but marvel at the positive vibes that rippled off of this family and how much they could give, despite clearly having so little. When dinner was served, Orion had to politely decline a bowl of beef stew because he didn’t eat meat, and Molly Weasley immediately handed the bowl off to Ron so she could set about making Orion his own plate, piled high with cheesy mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms, and roasted cauliflower seasoned with garlic and chives.

The Weasley family and their guests sat in an uncomfortable, messy half-circle around the large brick fireplace, laughing and talking as they ate. After supper came the dessert of hot, fresh apple dumplings, and after dessert came some hot tea and scones. After all, said Molly Weasley, having guests over was a rare treat, so they were going to celebrate appropriately. Neither Carewyn nor Orion could remember ever having felt so full in all their lives.

As everyone enjoyed their scones and tea, stories and songs were swapped around the fire. At one point in the evening, twelve-year-old Ginny -- who was perfectly thrilled to have another girl around, for a change -- begged Carewyn to sing for them. Apparently Bill had told his family all about her lovely voice. So, with some encouragement from Charlie, Arthur, and Molly, Carewyn bit back a broad, amused grin, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

“Mother cannot guide you...now you’re on your own.

Only me beside you -- still, you’re not alone...”

Orion had thought to himself that Carewyn must have done the song from his youth proper justice while singing for the Prince, but hearing her sing it in person, seeing her smile at him and her eyes sparkle as she did so...it was a completely different matter. As before, Orion felt all of the tension in his shoulders ebb off of him, as easily as dirt was washed away in warm water. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, tilting his head a bit so that he could hear her better, as his breathing and heart rate slowed. Even with his eyes closed, he could hear a smile in every word Carewyn sang...even when she likely wasn’t smiling at all, he thought. How could she be smiling, when lines like “sometimes people leave you half-way through the wood” and “people make mistakes -- fathers, mothers” rang with such emotion and pain? Was that pain visible on her face? Orion thought not, given Carewyn’s sense of grace and composure...but he heard it, all the same. He felt it -- her heart, aching with a kind of deep, blazing empathy Orion had never encountered in anyone else before.

When Carewyn came to the end of the song, Orion opened his eyes at last. The Weasleys all clapped, delighted, but he barely heard them as he turned to Carewyn.

“...That was remarkable,” he murmured.

Carewyn smiled. “I’m glad you think I did it justice.”

“Mm,” said Orion. “I’ve...never heard anyone drown like that, before.”

Carewyn couldn’t bite back a laugh. “Perhaps I didn’t do it justice then, if I sounded like I was drowning...”

“You were drowning in the words’ meaning,” corrected Orion. “Enveloping and submerging yourself in them -- allowing them to pull you in and take your breath away.”

He smiled, his black eyes very soft upon Carewyn’s face.

“It was...very moving.”

Molly’s face spread into an indulgent smile as she reached forward and patted Carewyn’s hand. “It was absolutely beautiful, dear.”

“Orion’s right, Carewyn,” agreed Arthur. “Your feelings really came through. I could tell the words mean something to you.”

Carewyn offered a polite smile, even as her eyes drifted away. “...I suppose they do.”

“It sounds like a lullaby, sort of,” mused Ron. “Even if it talks about your mother not being around.”

Ginny tilted her head toward Carewyn, Ron’s words prompting concern.

“...Do you not have a mother, Carewyn?”

The rest of the family went very quiet -- some like Percy shot Ginny warning looks, while others like Molly and Ron couldn’t help but glance at Carewyn in similar concern.

Carewyn’s gaze had drifted off onto the fire. Although she was turned away and her face was stoic, however, Orion could see her eyes rippling like turbulent ocean water, before she closed them solemnly.

“...I had one,” she answered softly at last. “She died when I was twelve.”

“Was she sick?” asked Ron, very hesitantly.

Carewyn bowed her head and gave a single, silent nod. Everyone in the room knew what that meant. The Plague had swept through both Royaume and Florence several times, over the span of the War -- one of the worst years was about nine years ago now...probably the same year Carewyn had lost her mother.

Orion’s black eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly upon her face. Molly looked like she wanted to envelop Carewyn in the biggest hug and was only holding back the urge because of her husband’s tight, reassuring squeeze to her hand.

“Oh, you poor dear,” she murmured.

Carewyn raised her head at last, her expression once again touched by a small, resilient, pretty smile.

“It’s all right,” she said gently, her eyes only briefly grazing each of the Weasleys’ faces. “I’ll always miss my mother...but I’m getting along all right. And I still have Jacob.”

“Your brother?” asked Percy, and Carewyn nodded.

“He left for War the same day he and I moved in with our grandfather,” Carewyn explained.

“Your brother must be quite a bit older than you, then,” said Orion.

Carewyn glanced at Orion out the side of her eye, smiling slightly. “Nine years older, yes. You know...you actually remind me of him, a bit.”

Orion raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

Carewyn was forced to stifle a giggle behind her hand. “Jacob is also the sort to do things in his own clever way. Only he’s a lot more aggressive than you -- and more talkative, and arrogant, and overprotective...”

“And uglier,” inserted Fred.

“And smellier,” added George.

“With a long crooked nose and ears like a bat’s.”

The younger Weasley siblings were all laughing now. Carewyn had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggling.

“No!” she choked. “I don’t mean it like that! He’s wonderful, really. He’s just...well, an absolute idiot about how to interact with other people. He’s completely brilliant, mind you -- he could give you whole lectures about anything from geography to mathematics to physics...but coming up with spontaneous gifts for no occasion at all, just based on someone’s interests? He’d need some prodding, to do something like that.”

She smiled at Orion, who couldn’t help but grin fully in return.

“It was truly nothing at all, Carewyn,” he said. “With your love of music, it felt like that song would be something you would appreciate.”

Arthur glanced at Orion curiously. “Where is that song from, Orion? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I learned it as a boy,” Orion answered. “I would hear it sung outside the window of the workhouse, sometimes.”

Molly looked very troubled. “Workhouse? Orion dear, you don’t mean to say you grew up in one of those terrible places?”

Orion felt Carewyn’s gaze on him. When he looked back at her, her almond-shaped blue eyes were rippling with concern as well, though much gentler and more empathetic than Molly’s. He tried to offer her a smile.

“Let’s just say the words spoke to me as well, at the time,” he said lightly. “Not just to me, either...all of the boys there, one way or another, were where they were because of other people’s ‘terrible mistakes.’”

Orion’s gaze drifted down to his own hands as he lightly clasped them in his lap.

“...The War doesn’t touch you the same way here, but...the closer you are to Florence...the more the reality of it hits you in the face, every day. Even when you’re not on the battlefield itself -- even when you’re just at the border -- you, and the ones you care for, run the risk of getting caught in the crossfire. And on the border of Florence and Royaume...in those towns where it’s hard to tell where one country starts and another begins...tensions are like gunpowder. One spark from the tiniest match can set it ablaze -- can make everything implode, and force you to start all over again.”

His face was unreadable, but his black eyes were endless, rippling with the recollection of the fire and smoke -- the red and blue colors of Royaume, on the saddles of horses -- the life leaving his mother’s eyes -- his own heavy, terrified hyperventilating...

He closed his eyes and took several very deep, measured breaths before continuing.

“In such a place...one can find people desperate enough to want to lash out at others, to avenge their pain,” said Orion solemnly. “But there was one sweet old woman who owned a flower and herb shop near the workhouse. She’d had to rebuild her establishment several times over the years, and from what I understand, she finally had to leave town not long after I did...but every time she caught wind that the army was coming to town, looking for new recruits...she’d sing the song just loudly enough that we boys could hear it through our window.”

He absently played with the crudely carved circular charm on the cord around his neck in one hand.

“And although there were those who still enlisted afterwards...many others did not.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened.

“‘While we’re seeing our side,’ ” she sang again, more softly, “‘maybe we forgot...they are not alone. No one is alone.’ ”

Orion’s lips spread into a smile as he looked at Carewyn, his black eyes rippling gently as he nodded.

“So it’s against the War, then,” murmured Charlie. He glanced at his parents, who both looked concerned.

“Did that woman with the flower shop give you that?” asked Ginny curiously, indicating the charm around Orion’s neck.

“Yes,” said Orion. “She gave it to me one night when I tried to run away, to soothe my nerves. Its effects wore off by the next morning, but I’ve never really had the heart to throw it out.”

Percy sputtered, looking very pale. “Th-then she was a witch?”

“Whoa,” said Fred and George, looking almost too eager.

“Did she turn all the army into pigs?” asked George.

“Did she lure you in and try to cook you in a soup?” said Fred.

Orion smiled indulgently. “Of course not -- ”

“Well, thank Heavens for that!” said Molly, shooting the twins a very reproachful look. “Magic isn’t something to make fun of, you two -- it’s frankly a wonder you weren’t hurt, dear...”

Orion frowned. “There was no danger, Madam Weasley, I assure you.”

“No danger! Orion,” Molly scolded him indulgently, “I applaud your courage...but nature has its own way of things, and any magic that twists it out of shape is more dangerous than it’s worth.”

To the Weasley family’s surprise, Carewyn actually spoke up.

“Mrs. Weasley, men tend fields, plant seeds, domesticate horses and dogs...treat illnesses and injuries...cut hair and wear makeup and put on heeled shoes to make ourselves appear taller. Would that not also be twisting nature’s intent?”

Molly actually faltered somewhat. “Well, yes, but...that’s very different from magic, Carewyn! Magic is...well, it’s wild. Uncontrollable.”

“It’s untamed chaos,” said Arthur more levelly than his wife. “A kind that’s done a lot more harm than good.”

“But it still can be used for good,” said Carewyn very firmly. “And if it has that potential, why must we treat it as though it and all of its users are inherently reprehensible? If magic can be used to save lives, or heal the sick, or even just calm a scared boy down after something horrible...”

She glanced at Orion out the side of her eye.

“...Then it seems to be like any other weapon or tool, or even any other person -- something that could protect or hurt.”

Orion felt like his heart was being flooded with warmth, and his entire expression melted with pride and something like affection as he stared at Carewyn.

She truly is a woman to be admired. The memory of Skye’s irritation and McNully’s warning rippled over Orion’s mind and he found himself faltering. Admire...yes. Anyone could grow to admire such a woman, couldn’t they? To respect and esteem her...to...grow an attachment, to her... Even I? Could I...?

The Weasleys exchanged uncertain looks amongst themselves.

“Come to think of it,” said Ron thoughtfully, “wasn’t there that old myth about fairy godmothers who grant you wishes?”

Fred brought an arm roughly around his younger brother’s neck and put him in a rough choke hold. “Aww, ickle Ronnie wanting a pwetty new dress?”

“‘Oh fairy godmother, I just gotta have a new dress for the Winter Festival!’” said George in a high-pitched squeal.

“Geroff!” growled Ron, as he pulled free.

“Oh, but that would be fun!” sighed Ginny. “Dancing at the Winter Festival, in the prettiest dress you’ve ever seen...you’re going to the Festival, aren’t you, Carewyn?”

“Probably not, Ginny,” said Carewyn gently, “I’ve got so much work to do...”

“Oh, but you have to!” whined Ginny. “The Festival’s tradition! Right, Orion?”

“So I’ve heard,” Orion said modestly, “but I’m afraid I’ve never attended a Winter Festival either.”

“What?!” said all of the Weasley children except Bill in thoroughly aghast unison.

“It’s the biggest celebration of the entire year -- ”

“Everybody in town will be there -- ”

“ -- well, aside from the noble tarts -- ”

“ -- but hey, who needs them?”

“Everybody makes the best mince pies and hot apple cider -- ”

“There’s dancing and singing and games and gift-giving -- ”

“You just can’t miss it -- ”

Before long, they’d completely gotten off the topic of magic all together, so the Weasleys could tell Orion all about the Winter Festival. Carewyn took the opportunity to start carrying dishes into the kitchen so that she could help Molly clean up. While she did so, Bill pulled her aside.

“Carewyn...can I talk to you? Alone?”

Carewyn blinked, but nonetheless put down the dishes she was carrying and followed Bill off into a secluded corner.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in concern.

Bill bit the inside of his lip, his brown eyes drifting over in the direction of the fireplace where the rest of his family was sitting with Orion.

“Carewyn,” he said slowly, “who is that man, really?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit together. Bill ran a hand over the undone collar of his tunic absently.

“He’s hiding something, I know it. And I’m sure you see it too. He dodges questions he doesn’t want to answer, and as much as he’s even told us tonight about himself, he never gives important details. He lived near the border, but he didn’t mention what town he’s from. He lived in a workhouse, presumably after losing his parents, but he never said what he lost them to.”

“Those things might not be easy for him to talk about, Bill,” Carewyn said softly.

“Yes,” said Bill in a bracing voice, “but he also hopped the walls of the palace, completely ignorant of how tight royal security is and why, has enough time to chase after you most every day, and gets paints from people he can’t identify and learns songs from people who, from the sound of things, practice witchcraft.”

Bill crossed his arms. He clearly was trying to be considerate to Carewyn’s feelings, but couldn’t hold back his concerns.

“Look, I...I understand you like the man. And I understand why -- Ginny and the others seem to have taken to him pretty well, too. But there’s no reason for someone to hold back that many secrets, unless they’re up to no good. He could be a cad, or a criminal, or maybe even something worse. Judging by his stance on magic, he could even be a magician himself...”

His brown eyes narrowed slightly upon Carewyn’s face.

“I’m just...worried about you, that’s all,” he said lowly.

Carewyn considered Bill for a long moment. Then, reaching out a hand, she gently took hold of Bill’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Bill...I understand how you feel. And I’m grateful, truly grateful, for your caring. I hardly deserve it, and it...it means a lot to me.”

Bill frowned deeply, ready to say something, but Carewyn cut him off.

“But believe me when I say that people don’t just keep secrets because they mean to do harm. Sometimes -- for some people -- they’ve had to learn to hide themselves and shield their hearts...so much so that even when they encounter good people, it’s hard for them to let their guard down. Sometimes they’ve known so much pain that, even though they’re kind people, they’ve numbed themselves to a degree, just to protect themselves. Lied so much...that it becomes second-nature. Or worse, lie because they don’t know who they can really trust...because so many people have hurt them that they don’t know what trust even feels like anymore.”

Bill’s expression lost some of its edge, though it still looked wary.

“...And if he is a magic user?”

“Then he’s one of the good ones,” said Carewyn firmly.

Bill still looked a bit unsure. Carewyn squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly, her eyes resting there instead of on his face.

“Bill, my brother is only alive, thanks to magic.”

Bill was startled.

“The Plague swept through our whole house,” said Carewyn lowly. “First the landlord and his family -- then my mother...and then Jacob. We were living hand-to-mouth, and I didn’t have anyone else to go to...so I went to the Cromwell estate.”

Bill’s brown eyes became a little smaller, darkening with grim understanding.

“...You went to your grandfather.”

Carewyn nodded. “He disowned Mum long ago, but he was still our family, so I thought he might be willing to help us. He agreed to take Jacob and me in and nurse Jacob back to health, so long as we paid back his generosity. Grandfather then tracked down a witch who could cast a spell to save Jacob’s life.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed. “Lord Cromwell hired a -- ?”

“Do not repeat this, Bill!” Carewyn said very sharply and urgently. “To anyone, do you understand? No one.”

Her eyes then softened visibly, becoming grimmer and sadder.

“Jacob was dying. There was no other option.”

Bill looked like he was in pain, just hearing this second-hand. He swallowed, and then gave a nod.

“So that witch saved your brother’s life,” he said quietly.

Carewyn nodded, her eyes full of emotion despite the stoicism of her features.

“The spell she cast bound Jacob’s life to Grandfather’s will. Jacob was brought into the house on a stretcher just after dawn, and within a half-hour...he was up on his own two feet again.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. She could still remember Jacob’s blazing, relieved smile as he barreled down the stairs and threw his arms around her, cradling her like a baby.

“My Wyn -- my sweet Wyn -- ”

Not long after that, though...Jacob’s arms were yanked away -- all of him was yanked away -- held back by Blaise and Claire and Pearl’s husbands, who all had work to together just to restrain Jacob as he fought to reach her, screaming and raging like a mad man --

“WYN! NO! GET OFF OF ME -- WYN! I WON’T LET YOU -- CAREWYN!”

Carewyn opened her eyes, the soft longing fading from her face completely and leaving a much more stony expression behind.

Bill himself, however, looked more troubled than ever.

“You said your brother left for War the same day you and he arrived at the Cromwell estate,” he whispered shakily. “Do you mean that, right after saving your brother’s life...Lord Cromwell immediately sent him off to War -- all while knowing how few men return home alive?”

Carewyn’s lips came together tightly.

“Grandfather sent him to the front, so that Jacob could start paying back the debt I owed him,” she said, her voice very soft and oddly distant. “After all...a man who wouldn’t die, so long as he willed it...would make an excellent soldier.”

Bill looked horrified.

“Then...” he whispered, “...then Jacob’s only alive because your grandfather decides whether he lives or dies? You only know your brother’s still alive after so many years at war...because Lord Cromwell is bound to him through magic, and he’s holding his life over your head?”

Carewyn withdrew her hand from Bill’s shoulder and turned away.

“Carewyn...that’s monstrous!” said Bill, and he was unable to keep his voice from rising. “I didn’t even know magic could do something like that -- but -- but that’s nothing, compared to...”

He couldn’t restrain himself. He actually threw an arm around Carewyn and pulled her into a hug from behind. The small ginger-haired woman stiffened like a startled cat.

“Bill?”

Carewyn looked up at him -- were those tears, in his eyes?

“Have you...never told anyone else, about this?” Bill murmured.

Carewyn tried to turn around, her blue eyes welling up with regret and pain. “Bill...”

She brought a hand through his hair, trying to soothe him the way she used to for Jacob.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I -- I didn’t mean to upset you -- I only wanted to explain why I’m not scared of magic...please forgive me.”

Bill closed his eyes to try to hold back both his righteous anger and his tears.

“Forgive you?” he repeated in a choked voice. “For what, trusting me with the truth?”

“For making you worry unnecessarily,” Carewyn said forcefully, trying to ignore how uncomfortably her stomach was squirming.

Bill opened his eyes, looking both flabbergasted and more upset than ever. “Unnecessarily?”

He roughly grabbed both of Carewyn’s shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

“Now you listen here, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said, taking on the sort of tone he only ever used with his younger siblings when they were being rowdy, “you may get to decide if you want to interact with me or not, or rely on me or not, or accept my help or not. But you don’t get to decide whether I worry about you or not. And from here on out...”

Bill’s brown eyes were blazing with resolve.

“...I’m going to worry about you. Because I hate the thought of someone feeling like anybody else worrying about them is somehow a problem.”

Carewyn was left speechless.

Bill’s face broke into a broad smile through his tears. “Until your brother’s back from the War, Carey, I’ll be looking after you for him -- no arguments, no dismissals, no saying you’re fine on your own. Got it?”

Carewyn looked at Bill, perfectly stunned. Then her gaze fell away toward the floor.

“...It sounds like...I really don’t get a choice in the matter, then,” she whispered.

“Nope,” said Bill, grinning broadly.

Carewyn was unable to fight back the weak smile prickling at the sides of her lips, nor the emotion flooding her eyes, even as she kept her face turned away.

“...And I suppose ‘Carey’...is a suggestion of a nickname you plan to give Charlie, for me?”

Bill’s eyes sparkled fondly. “Well, every one of my siblings has a nickname, in case you haven’t noticed.”

The Cinderella AU is back, and...ahhhh, my babiiiiies. *dissolves into a pile of happy goo*

The Winter Festival presented in Royaume is most strongly related to the celebrations for Saint Nicholas in French provinces such as Lorraine, which are held on December 6th and include lots of music and a parade led by Saint Nicholas (or Pere Noel, as he’s also called), the French alternative to Father Christmas and Santa Claus. Florence’s holiday likewise resembles Italy’s Feast Day, which is hosted on December 8th. 

Back in the olden days, dancing wasn’t just done for fun -- it was considered a standard form of socializing. Prior to the 19th century, it was far more common for Europeans to dance in large groups that then switched partners frequently, as opposed to being locked onto a specific partner, and this applies to both formal gatherings and more informal ones. Strict pair dancing really came more in vogue in the early 1800′s with the German waltz, so during the Renaissance, one could expect to see a lot more swapping of partners at parties than one generally sees in the modern era. There were couple dances at that time, of course, such as the lavolta -- they just weren’t as popular as dances like the waltz became at formal gatherings later on. Country dancing, or dances performed at informal gatherings, was generally seen as more lighthearted and easy for people to join in without being expert at it, while court dances, which were generally saved for more formal events, were much more performative and choreographed.

Carewyn’s dress in this sketch was strongly based off of this absolutely gorgeous dress, which was inspired by real Renaissance artwork.

Previous part is here – whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy! xoxo

x~x~x~x

With the arrival of winter, Carewyn found herself busier than ever. The King and Queen of Royaume had ordered that the palace be fully furnished with holiday cheer, so Carewyn and the rest of the staff soon had their hands full, putting gold-trimmed garlands around every banister and decking every hall with holly and ivy. Carewyn wondered how in the world the King and Queen could afford such finery when they still couldn’t seem to scrounge up enough funds to have the proper tools and supplies in stock for their staff, let alone to give them proper food rations -- but from what Bill and Charlie told her, this wasn’t too uncommon.

“It’s like this every year,” said Charlie, sounding very surly. “The royals and the court always pig out on the most sumptuous feasts, and then we have to pay for it after the fact. Just you wait until New Year’s -- the Queen always likes hosting a huge masked ball to ‘start the new year off right’ and the nobles end up leaving the worst messes behind...”

Bill sighed. “I don’t think it’s all selfishness on their part, really. I think it’s to try to lift the Prince’s spirits, more than anything. You know he isn’t allowed to leave the castle grounds...and I’m sure he no doubt hears all about the Winter Festival and all the other celebrations in town around this time of year, from the staff. The holiday season can’t be that much fun, when you’re forced to sit and watch from the sidelines...”

Andre did indeed seem to be in a forlorn mood. Whenever Carewyn caught sight of him walking through the palace gardens with her cousin Iris, he seemed to always be looking away, off into the distance, while Iris tried to engage him in conversation. Carewyn couldn’t help but feel sorry for him -- as much as his parents clearly were spending beyond their means, it seemed to be largely so that they could try to shield him from the War going on outside. It wasn’t a good decision, Carewyn thought, but a slightly understandable one...and more importantly, Andre himself had no hand in either the staff’s struggles or his own captivity.

One day Carewyn was polishing the floors in one of the guest suite, singing the song Orion had given her for the second time that day, when the partially ajar door was very quickly shoved open. Carewyn looked up just in time to see a ruffle of bed curtains, as if someone had leapt onto the guest bed and drawn the curtains so that they were hidden from view.

Carewyn opened her mouth, ready to ask who was there, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice echoing down the hallway outside.

“Your Highness?”

Iris?

Carewyn frowned deeply. She heard heels clapping down the hall, and sure enough, her brown-haired, slender cousin came into view through the open door.

Iris caught sight of Carewyn inside the guest suite, and her confused expression instantly turned ugly.

“Have you seen the Prince?” she demanded.

Carewyn raised her eyebrows innocently. “No.”

“Well, if you do, tell him that Lady Iris is looking for him,” said Iris waspishly. “And see that you don’t speak to him either.”

“I don’t quite know how I can tell his Highness that you’re looking for him, if I’m not allowed to speak to him,” said Carewyn rather coolly.

“You know full well what I mean,” Iris snarled under her breath.

Eying the almost completely polished floor, she rather pointedly strode right through the part Carewyn had just finished cleaning, dragging her heels to leave long, streaking footprints through it.

“Prince Henri might like using you as his little dress-up doll, but don’t think it means he actually likes you,” she whispered coldly. “Why would a prince ever be interested in a servant girl with no dowry or prospects?”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed upon the streaks on the floor before flitting up onto Iris’s face with a very stony look. She was very tempted to remind Iris that she had no interest in kissing up to the richest man that would have her, and that a man and a woman didn’t have to be romantically interested in each other to engage in conversation...but, honestly, she didn’t see much point. She wouldn’t be able to soothe Iris’s jealousy no matter what she said, and Carewyn quite frankly liked the thought of Iris leaving far more than to try to make her feel better.

Satisfied that she’d gotten the last word, Iris picked up the skirts of her lavender brocade gown and strode quickly from the room and down the hall in search of Andre.

Carewyn remained on the floor for a moment, waiting for the sound of her cousin’s footsteps to fade away. Then she slowly rose to her feet, walked over to the door, and closed it, before she got back down on her hands and knees so she could start cleaning the part of the floor Iris had slid her feet through.

“Andre?” whispered Carewyn without looking up. “Is that you, hiding in there?”

There was a rustle. Then the bed curtains parted, to reveal Andre sitting on his knees on the bed.

“You knew it was me?” he murmured.

“I thought it might be,” said Carewyn, offering him a small gentle smile even though she didn’t fully look up from her work.

Andre looked almost guilty. “...Thank you for covering for me, Carewyn. I don’t mean to insult your cousin, I just...need some space.”

“It’s all right. It can be draining, not to have any time to yourself, even when you are around people you like. And really, I didn’t lie -- I hadn’t seen you, however much I thought I might know where you were,” she added with a wry smile.

Andre tried to smile, but it came out rather forced and faded very quickly. He glanced from Carewyn to the closed door and back.

“...Does she always talk to you like that? Iris?”

Carewyn paused in the work and looked up. Andre’s face was twisted in a very troubled frown.

The maidservant returned her focus to the floor so as not to look at him, scrubbing at a particularly dirty streak.

“Not always,” she said mildly.

Sometimes she says worse things.

Andre’s eyes narrowed slightly, becoming sadder still. “Carewyn...I had no idea. I mean, I understand your mother was estranged from your family and your father skipped town, but...Iris is your cousin. Even if she’s nobility and you’re not, the way you talked about your family, I thought...”

He trailed off. He felt incredibly foolish, for not having questioned whether Iris and Carewyn’s relationship was really that good. KC had even complained about her mother trying to matchmake her with Carewyn’s cousin, Arsen Dupont, hadn’t she? Did that mean that all of Carewyn’s family talked to her the way Iris did?

Carewyn, however, was very stoic in her response. “Please don’t judge Iris based on how she speaks to me, Andre.”

Grandfather would be furious if I were the reason Iris didn’t marry Andre. The only reason that Iris and Andre shouldn’t marry should be Iris herself, and her own stupidity.

“Good people don’t have to get along with everyone, not even their own family. The way Iris speaks to me is just as much my own doing as it is hers -- and truly, her words are just words. They don’t injure me. If you enjoy her company, then you mustn’t judge her too harshly for something like this.”

Judge her harshly for other reasons.

Andre didn’t look very comforted. He adjusted himself on the bed so that he was sitting on the edge with his feet on the floor.

“...To be honest...I don’t really enjoy it that much,” he muttered.

Carewyn looked up again.

“She’s amiable enough, I suppose,” said Andre uncomfortably, “but...well, I was curious to meet her because it sounded like she enjoyed fashion and might have some good ideas for me to try out. And she had a few -- I mean, I still don’t think ash gray suits you at all...but I ended up finding a rather nice shiny pewter fabric for your shoes, and -- well, you’ll see it when they’re done. I think you’ll like them. But even with that...it just feels like, a lot of the time, she’s only saying what she thinks I want to hear, rather than what she really thinks! Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike flattery -- but I already get that all the time at court. Especially around this time of year...”

He looked down at the floor, his shoulders dropping as he rested his arms in his lap.

“I have plenty of servants and subjects and...well, people who only want to be around me for my crown,” he said dejectedly. “I guess all I was really hoping for was...”

“A friend.”

Andre looked up at Carewyn in surprise. She’d put down her rag on the edge of her bucket, her eyes full to the brim with compassion.

Within seconds, the Prince’s face had burst into a delighted, relieved expression.

“Yes! Oh, I’m so glad you understand, Carewyn. Erika always says I shouldn’t complain so much...and I know she’s right -- I have a lot to be grateful for. It’s just...”

“You can have a lot to be grateful for and still be missing what you need,” said Carewyn very primly. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to do more or be more. It’s how you express that feeling that matters.”

Andre cocked his eyebrows curiously. “Express it?”

Unable to meet the Prince’s eye straight-on, Carewyn fixed her ponytail so that some of the hair coming out of it was restrained again.

“Well...to Lady Rath’s point, complaining about a problem, or wishing it would go away, never really solved anything. My mother used to say that ‘dreamers never make a dream come true’ -- if you want something to happen, then you need to act on it, not just sit around and wish that things might change.”

That’s why I can’t just sit back and wait for the War to end so Jacob can come home. If he’s out there on the battlefield, in pain and alone, I need to find out where and figure out some way to reach him.

Andre considered this for a long moment. At last his face split into a huge, blazing white smile.

“You’re right! You’re absolutely right, Carewyn...”

He leapt off the bed, bent down to get down on Carewyn’s level, and grabbed both of her shoulders.

“Will you go to the Winter Festival with me?”

Carewyn was taken aback. “What?”

“I’ve never been, not even once, even though I’ve always wanted to,” said Andre, his eyes bright with excitement. “Of course we’d probably have to be sneaky about it...but the courtiers will be plenty occupied all night here, with Mother’s ball. There are plenty of times I’ve been able to sneak out of the ballroom and no one’s ever found me, even when they were actively looking. I have the perfect purple brocade doublet I could wear...and I’m sure your new shoes will be stunning with the dark blue velvet gown I made for you...”

“Andre,” said Carewyn, a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm, “hold on. Brocade and velvet...those are hardly things to wear outside the palace, if you don’t want to be noticed.”

Andre blinked. “They’re not?”

“No,” Carewyn said very firmly, her eyes narrowing reproachfully as she slid out of his grip. “Only people of status and wealth wear those materials. People in town wear cottons, linens -- wool -- and they’re far simpler than even the uniform I’m wearing right now. You and I would stick out like sore thumbs, especially since all of the nobility will be at the Queen’s Ball. I doubt we’d last more than five minutes in town before we got caught.”

Andre deflated visibly.

“...I see,” he said, disappointed. “If only I’d thought of this sooner...I could probably have made us something else, if the Festival wasn’t the day after tomorrow...”

Carewyn bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t love the thought of going against the King and Queen’s wishes, and of course spending time with Andre was uncomfortable considering she was supposed to stay out of Iris’s way, but...well, she agreed with Bill. It had to feel pretty rotten, to be stuck on the sidelines, watching everyone else have fun and longing to join in, during the holidays. Carewyn had never really gone to the Winter Festival as a kid since her mother didn’t like large crowds and she’d preferred spending quiet time at home with her and Jacob...but Andre clearly wanted to go to the Festival so badly...

“...I could...always go pick something up, in town,” Carewyn said slowly, her eyes lingering on Andre’s shoulder rather than his face. “I’m supposed to be meeting a friend at the castle gate around noon...I could always convince him to walk with me to look for some festival clothes for both of us. Then you could always tailor what I bring back, in case it doesn’t fit correctly...”

Andre looked like Carewyn had just presented him with a unicorn for a Christmas present.

“Oh, Carewyn...you’re absolutely brilliant, that’s what you are! Don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of money -- buy whatever you think is best -- ”

And that was how Carewyn got roped into going to the Winter Festival. But really, she knew she couldn’t in good conscience let Andre sneak out on his own...and despite herself, her heart was much too gentle for her to even think of trying to tell him not to go, however much trouble she knew both of them would be in if they got caught.

All the more reason to make sure we don’t, she told herself.

When she met Orion at the gate that day, she told him she had some shopping to do before the Festival. Orion had quirked an eyebrow when she had him hold up several peasant-worthy outfits over himself so Carewyn could examine them, but Carewyn refused to tell him who she was shopping for, merely that he was around Orion’s height.

“Can I take this to mean you’ll be attending the Festival after all, my lady?” Orion asked, his eyes trailing over her face with some interest. “I believe you told Ginny Weasley that you’d be too busy.”

Carewyn avoided his eye as she took the outfit he was holding from him and placed both it and a forest green and white dress she’d found on the counter so she could pay.

“I am -- but I’ve opened some time in my schedule for it all the same, at least in the evening.”

Something flickered in the back of Orion’s eyes. Was it curiosity, or was it disappointment? “The gentleman you’re shopping for must be someone special, for you to reschedule your plans.”

Carewyn couldn’t fight back a proud huff. “He’s special only in the way that he needs help, and I’m the person who can give it.”

She took the clothes from the cashier and started heading out of the shop. Orion followed along behind, his black eyes running over her face even while she refused to look at him and narrowing ever-so-slightly.

“...I see.”

Andre was pleasantly surprised by what Carewyn had brought back for them. Although yes, they were made of far less expensive fabrics than he was used to and lacked decoration, he was very pleased with the colors. He’d mentioned having a purple doublet before, so he wasn’t surprised she picked that color of tunic for him, but he was very happy when she picked out some very handsome emerald green trousers trimmed with gold embroidery to go with them, as well as some tall black leather boots with gold buckles. Andre hadn’t really put purple and green together much before, but he really liked how the shades looked together. Carewyn’s dress, however, he did make one large alteration to besides just the fit -- adding a rather pretty trim to the front and back of bodice and the bottom of the skirt made of thick silvery linen ribbon. (He claimed that it was to help the dress better blend with her new pewter gray silk slippers, but Carewyn also just suspected he couldn’t help himself, seeing how plain the dress she’d gotten was.)

The night of the Festival, Andre went down to the Queen’s Winter Ball. After going through the motions for a half hour or so to throw off suspicion, Andre slipped away, and -- after quickly changing into his peasant clothes -- met Carewyn by the gate of the palace. When he got there, he found Bill, Charlie, and their little sister Ginny waiting just across the street, ever so “casually” looking away from the castle wall as Carewyn carefully opened the gate and she and Andre slipped out. Once the gate was closed, the three Weasleys swooped down on Carewyn and Andre, Charlie grabbing Andre’s arm and Ginny grabbing Carewyn’s, and the group flooded into town to meet up with the rest of the Weasley clan.

From the moment they arrived, Andre looked happier and more laid-back that Carewyn had ever seen him. Carewyn couldn’t help but feel like just walking around the Festival, surrounded by ordinary people who had no idea who he really was, made this the best day of the young Prince’s life...and she had to admit, as much as she could take or leave parties, his enthusiasm was infectious. When Ginny suggested they go dance, Andre was absolutely thrilled at the thought of learning how to do a country dance, and pressured Carewyn to show him how. Carewyn hardly thought herself the best choice for this, but found it difficult to say no, seeing how excited he was. Once Carewyn, Charlie, Andre, and Ginny jumped into the fray, though, she did find herself having fun. The steps were actually pretty easy to follow along to, especially compared to the sorts of court dances she’d always seen her older cousins practicing at the Cromwell estate, before any private balls they were invited to.

It didn’t take long, though, for someone to spot Andre. In the middle of one of their dances, a hand came from out of nowhere and snatched a hold of the back of the Prince’s purple tunic, pulling him back out of line.

“Hey!” yelped Andre. “What are you -- ?!”

He looked up, to see the rather tall and foreboding frame of his fencing instructor.

Andre gave a very weak smile. “Aha...hi, Erika.”

Erika’s expression was very stony. Carewyn, Charlie, and Ginny immediately hopped out of line and over to them. Standing right behind Erika and dressed in a sapphire blue cloak that obscured her elegantly trimmed linen dress was KC.

“Lady Rath!” said Charlie with his best attempt at a winning smile. “KC! What a nice...surprise! Heh...”

KC raised her eyebrows coolly. “Hello, Charlie...Carewyn.”

Bill had rushed over too, sensing trouble.

“It’s not their fault, KC,” said Andre quickly, “I can explain -- ”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said KC, her arms crossing as she looked at Andre. “We know full well it isn’t their fault.”

“I say it is,” said Erika rather bluntly, her eyes flashing dangerously at Carewyn and the Weasleys, “considering they encouraged it.”

“It isn’t their fault because they wouldn’t have felt able to say ‘no’ to the Crown Prince of Royaume, even if they’d wanted to,” KC pointed out logically.

Andre suddenly looked very guilty. He glanced from the Weasleys to Carewyn, almost silently asking if he’d pressured them into any of this. Charlie, in response, spoke rather forcefully.

“Well, frankly, we did want to! Andre deserves a fun holiday, for once. Reckon it’s a helluva lot better than that stuffy old ball going on up there.”

He jabbed a thumb behind him in the direction of the palace.

“The Prince’s safety is more important than a fun holiday,” Erika shot back coldly, “as are the King and Queen’s orders. You’d do well to remember that, Weasley.”

“Erika, please,” said Andre desperately. “No one from Florence would dare come this far west of the border...and even if they did, none of them would recognize me, dressed like this. And you said it yourself, KC, it’s likely they won’t attack our forces anyway until after the 8th -- that’s when their winter holiday is, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” granted KC with a frown. Her voice became much more thoughtful as she added, “Though if they wanted to be really clever, they’d strike on or the morning immediately after a holiday, when everyone’s got their guard down...”

Carewyn faced Erika with as much conviction as she could, even though she was completely eclipsed by the taller and stronger woman’s shadow.

“I realize the Prince’s safety is important,” she said in a very low voice, so as not to be overheard, “but if there truly was anyone who meant to target him, wouldn’t they be more likely to look for him at the Winter Ball, rather than here among the peasantry? And considering that the palace is only about five blocks away from here and he’s in the company in one of the castle’s most capable guards,” she nodded in Bill’s direction, “and both his combat instructor and our army’s chief military strategist...I’d say that he’s quite well protected.”

Erika gave Carewyn a beady look.

“People say you’re nothing like your family, Cromwell,” she said rudely, “but I think they’re full of it. You’re just as pretentious and fawning as the rest of them.”

She nonetheless released the back of Andre’s collar.

“I’ll stay for two hours only,” she muttered to him sourly. “When I go, you go.”

Andre beamed from ear to ear.

KC and Erika weren’t much for dancing, but they did loosen up in time, while sitting with the rest of the Weasleys and enjoying some of the fresh sugar-dusted crepes, mince pies, cocoa, and coffee. Before long as well, Andre had mastered the art of the country dance. Ginny was thrilled to have someone else who was just as excited to dance as she was, and -- bless her heart -- the twelve-year-old treated Andre with the same amount of cheer and respect as she probably would’ve anyone else, just like her brothers did. She even ended up giving Andre pointers about how to do the dances better. Carewyn soon found herself getting pretty tired, but Ginny, Charlie, and Andre all kept pulling her back into line with them, and she bit back her exhaustion if only to see them smiling a little longer. It had been a really long time since she’d been able to make anyone smile like that, while doing so little -- it made herself feel that little bit better about herself, and made her stand just that little bit taller.

While dancing to a particular song, the woman playing the fiddle sped up very abruptly, changing tempo. Soon everyone was rotating in chaotic, joyful circles, switching partners constantly. As to be expected in country dancing, a few people made mistakes that they had to correct, but nobody really cared. One mistake, though, was Carewyn losing her footing and tripping over her skirt. The new gray silk shoes Andre had made for her, as lovely and comfortable as they were, were more like slippers than any proper outdoor footwear and didn’t have great traction, so she would’ve fallen right off her feet if someone hadn’t suddenly appeared behind her and caught her with an arm gently looped around her back.

It was Orion. He was dressed in clothes that were nicer than usual, but still modest, including some brown suede boots and a handsome forest green doublet that ended up being the same shade as Carewyn’s dress, though he still lacked the high-collared undershirt one would usually see from a nobleman.

“Forgive me for catching you twice, my lady,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Carewyn couldn’t help but smile. “At least you weren’t hurt after throwing yourself under me this time -- ”

They couldn’t continue the conversation, though, without getting locked up in the midst of the group dance. Carewyn was forced to twirl in sequence, just to avoid another pair moving on through.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Orion suddenly looked oddly wary, like a foal learning how to walk.

“I’m afraid I’ve never done this before,” he murmured, just barely dodging another pair of dancers.

Following the sequence, Carewyn rested an arm lightly around Orion’s waist, steering him in a circle.

“Don’t worry,” she said, as she offered him an encouraging smile. “It’s only a pattern...no one will complain if you make a mistake. Follow me.”

His face betraying some hesitance, Orion nonetheless found himself letting go, mirroring Carewyn in stylized turns and spirals through the dancing crowd.

Orion had come to the Festival because he’d guessed that the mysterious “guest” Carewyn was shopping for was -- in fact -- the Prince of Royaume, and thus this would be the perfect opportunity for Orion to meet him and get a better fix on his character. But even with this goal in his mind, he’d found his inner balance oddly disturbed, when he caught sight of Carewyn. She’d always been a rather pretty woman, but in the company of her friends -- smiling with such pure, undiluted happiness, at the sight of how happy they were -- her blue eyes sparkling with such soft emotion, every time they laughed -- her ginger hair flying free as a flag behind her as she twirled around them...it distracted him. It was an unwelcome distraction, one he was quick to scold himself for, before trying to relocate his center and return to the task at hand. And yet, when Carewyn lost her footing, he found himself once again throwing away his own internal balance and laser-pointed focus in favor of turbulent, emotional chaos...and soon they were dancing, and Orion found himself surfing in that chaos -- relishing that wild, but liberating warmth he felt coming off of her. Was it some magical aura she had, that made him feel like he was dancing with a blazing, soothing fire even as the snow began to fall overhead?

Carewyn Cromwell truly was a remarkable woman, to divert the Prince of Florence’s focus away from his one and only goal...and yet, as Orion danced with her, he couldn’t help but think...oh, if their world could be but a world where they could dance like this anywhere...even in Florence, where everyone knew his face...

When the dance came to an end, everyone clapped, and Carewyn and Orion moved off to the side together to sit with Bill, Ron, KC, and Erika. Erika was very suspicious of Orion from the off-set, finding him way too “pleasant” for her tastes, but Orion wasn’t the least bit offended. If anything, he said with a wry smile, her aggressive aura in some ways reminded him of a good friend of his. After several more rounds, Andre, Charlie, and Ginny finally came to sit down with the others for a quick break.

“Whew! I’m parched,” said Andre. He brought a hand up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Here,” said Bill.

He offered the Prince a stein of apple cider. Andre gulped down about half of it before lowering the stein, his mouth stretched into a broad smile.

“Oh, Carewyn, thank you for this,” he said, reaching out a hand to squeeze hers. “If I’d had any concept just how much fun this was, I would’ve come years ago.”

Carewyn smiled, looking genuinely touched. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Andre.”

Orion glanced from Carewyn to Andre and back. His face was very unreadable, but his black eyes had widened noticeably.

This must be him, he realized. Prince Henri.

The thought was a club to the back of the head, knocking some sense back into him after having gotten so thoroughly distracted. Orion’s thoughts moved very quickly as he watched the two interact.

“I am,” Andre said fervently, his eyes squinting slightly as he beamed. “And I hope you know how grateful I am...”

Something grimmer flickered over his face.

“...I hope you know...Iris was wrong, about how I see you.”

Carewyn was startled. “Andre...”

“I don’t just see you like a little dress-up doll,” said Andre very seriously, as he squeezed her hand. “You’re my friend, and a good one, at that. And for what it’s worth...” he smiled broadly, “...I’d say any royal should be proud, to have you on their arm.”

Carewyn was clearly a bit overwhelmed by the Prince’s complimentary words. Her gaze had drifted down to the table.

“...Thank you, Andre,” she said very softly.

Although her face was demure, her sparkling eyes and voice betrayed some deep, genuine emotion -- and despite himself, Orion felt some warm pride welling up in his chest, at the sound of it. Catching himself, Orion forced himself to return to the task at hand and lightly cleared his throat.

“Forgive me,” he said politely, “but I don’t think we’ve met.”

Carewyn looked from Andre to Orion quickly.

“Oh -- yes,” she said, “Andre...this is Orion. Orion, Andre.”

Andre’s eyes lit up at the name.

“So this is the infamous Orion you’ve been telling me about, KC!” he said, shooting a bright grin over at his cousin.

Orion raised his eyebrows curiously. “‘Infamous?’ I must wonder what she’s told you, for me to have earned that title.”

KC grinned. “Just that you saved Carewyn from a bucking horse, pulled her out of a ravine, and climbed over the castle wall twice just to visit her.”

Ginny’s freckled face lit up. “Orion, you did all that? That’s so romantic!”

Both Orion and Carewyn immediately tried to correct the record, but no one seemed to care much. Andre was laughing most of the time.

“Are you well-traveled, Orion?” asked Andre. “Judging by the way your doublet is distressed, I’d guess you’ve been to the Islands in the Southern Sea -- I’ve only seen such fabrics as imports.”

“I’m...afraid I haven’t, actually,” confessed Orion. “Though I have been to the Southern Sea.”

Florence’s castle was actually positioned on the shore, right by the sea. It was one of the few things Orion could say in its favor, even though there were times it made him long to cast off and never return.

Everyone seemed interested in this.

“You have?” said Charlie eagerly. “What’s it like?”

“Did you sail on a ship?” asked Ginny.

“Were you ever attacked by pirates?” added Ron.

“Nothing that exciting, I’m afraid,” Orion chuckled. “I’ve only seen it, not sailed it...at least, not yet.”

Carewyn’s red lips turned up into a full, pretty smile. “It must be beautiful, though.”

Orion turned to her, his own mouth spread in a grin. “It’s breathtaking. A seemingly endless void of blue that nonetheless sparkles as green as jade and as white as pearl. It’s as translucent as crystal, and yet so deep and mysterious that ships have been swallowed whole by it, and no man could ever discover all of its secrets. Its waves whisper to you as it ghosts the shoreline, and yet it can also roar and ravage like a beast, without warning or mercy. It can hypnotize you, draw you in...make you long to drown yourself in it, while simultaneously wanting it to spirit you away, over the horizon...”

Like your eyes.

Orion caught himself staring in them. Closing his eyes and bowing his head, he forced a soft laugh.

“Forgive me -- I’ve gotten carried away...”

“Not at all,” said Carewyn gently. She rested a hand lightly on top of his forearm. “It sounds wonderful.”

Orion found himself unsure of how to respond to her touch. He’d never really been around a lot of physical affection before, so he was at a bit of a loss of what to do in such a situation. Fortunately Carewyn withdrew not long after, and Orion tried to find his center of balance again by turning his focus back to Andre.

“...I must say, though...your attention to detail is impressive, Andre. I can see why you and Carewyn get along -- she also has an eye for hair and clothing pieces.”

“Of course she does,” said Charlie, sparing a playful smile in Carewyn’s direction. “Carey is our little lady, after all.”

Carewyn shot Charlie an attempt at a sardonic look, but it was foiled by the broad smile that had conquered her face.

“That she is!” Andre laughed.

“A lady with considerable grit, however,” said Bill, his mouth turned up in a wry smile not unlike Charlie’s. “I’ve never seen anyone else climb up onto a mantle, just to reach a chandelier.”

KC looked at Carewyn incredulously. “What? Why didn’t you get a ladder?”

“It wasn’t necessary,” said Carewyn primly, crossing her arms. “I had it under control.”

Orion’s black eyes sparkled affectionately. “I’d say even an experienced soldier in the field would hesitate before climbing over a steep cliff and into a briar patch at the bottom of a ravine...wouldn’t you agree, Andre?”

Andre nodded. “I daresay so! Though I’ve never been to the battlefield myself, or met any soldiers...I would dearly like to, though.”

Orion frowned. “Like to?”

“Well, yes,” said Andre, his tone becoming more serious. “We could use all the help we can get out there...I’d love to feel like I could really help the war effort on the ground, rather than staying at home. Especially when my comfort is built on the backs of those who are hurting.”

Orion’s gaze fell down onto his hands as they clasped together on the table.

“...Your conviction is inspiring,” he said softly. “But believe me...a battlefield is not a place anyone should like to visit.”

Not long after, Erika rather abruptly rose to her feet and told Andre it was time to leave. The group all left the festival together, though Carewyn lingered behind with Orion, so as to try to give Andre cover for getting back inside the palace without anyone noticing.

Once they were alone, Orion once again found himself off-balance. He’d acknowledged before that Carewyn indeed was a person to be admired, as well as a person who could be admired by anyone...even him. He did admire her. He enjoyed her company -- he found her witty and engaging -- he identified with her independence, resilience, and determination -- he was struck by her compassion and utter selflessness. She was like him in so many ways, and yet she was methodical and insightful, as well as braver than a bear, despite her size. Her voice was so soothing, and yet it rippled with a kind of deep passion and emotion that it truly rivaled the deep, dark sea. And tonight especially...tonight, he kept catching himself staring...but none of that mattered. None of it should matter, in the face of achieving peace for Florence.

“She’s not on your side,” McNully’s words returned to him. “She’s on Royaume’s. Just...mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

Orion couldn’t help but feel as though using his head would be easier if he could more easily tell which way was up.

“I’m glad you came, Orion,” said Carewyn. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better dance instructor -- dancing isn’t really my area of expertise.”

Orion’s black eyes sparkled mischievously. “Perhaps we shall simply have to dance again in the future, so that we might practice.”

Carewyn giggled. “Somehow I doubt either of us will be attending any grand balls in the future.”

Orion’s amused gaze softened as it trailed over her cold-kissed pink cheeks and along the snowflakes clinging to the ginger waves cascading down her back.

Carewyn tilted her head, her lips twisted up in a wryly questioning smile. “...What?”

Orion looked away quickly.

“Forgive me -- I merely...don’t recall ever having seen you wear your hair down before. It’s...different.”

Carewyn brought a hand through her hair absently. “Mm...yeah, I guess it would be. I don’t wear my hair down much, but...well, I figured for a casual event like this, it wouldn’t be a problem...”

“It’s no problem at all,” said Orion. He kept his tone as level as possible, even though he felt a flush creeping up his neck. “I was just thinking it was appropriate...to see you letting loose with your friends, the same day you chose to wear your hair free...”

He came to a stop, and Carewyn stopped too, turning around to face him properly. Orion reached out his hand and -- very tentatively -- took hers, holding it between their chests like a gentleman.

“...You should be allowed to feel like that more often,” Orion murmured. “Free.”

Carewyn scanned Orion’s face, her eyes lingering on his before dipping into the corners of lips. Orion felt his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He wanted to kiss her hand, but...did he dare?

“She’s not on your team.”

“You reckon little Miss Knight-in-Shining-Armor would take kindly to that, when she finds out?

“Mind that you use your head as well as your heart, all right?”

It was just too much. Orion couldn’t think, whenever his thoughts got too loud. Closing his eyes, he took several deep, measured breaths. Only once he’d brought his heart rate down did he open his eyes again.

“I should go,” he said at last, his voice coming out much more calmly than he felt.

His eyes flickered down to his hand holding hers again, but he’d already lost his nerve. He released her hand, even though his hand felt like it had chilled as soon as the contact was broken.

“...Good night, Carewyn.”

He turned to go.

“Orion.”

Carewyn’s hand enclosed over his. Orion stiffened, his heart pounding full-force once more, and he turned back around to face her, just as she raised his hand up to her own lips and placed a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Orion stared. She raised her head with a smile, releasing Orion’s hand with a kind of muted confidence even despite the pinkness of her cheeks.

“Until we meet again, Mr. Freeman.”

With this, she picked up her skirts and darted away up the street, in the direction of the palace.

Orion stared after her. He stared long after she was out of sight, his galaxy-like black eyes staring at the swirling snow without even seeing it. He tentatively took his own hand, trailing his thumb over the place her lips had grazed...and despite all judgment, despite all rational thought, he found his lips turning up in a smile of their own accord. He’d never felt so light and so off-balance in all his life -- was this what it felt like, to glide on a bird’s wings? And yet he knew, despite the weightlessness he felt, it was instead indicative that he’d fallen.

In the midst of using her to get intelligence about her kingdom...in the midst of him following the strategy he’d laid out to get the end of the War he wanted, by learning their weak points and using them to soften others to him...Prince Cosimo Orion Amari, heir to the throne of Florence, had fallen head over heels in love.