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ghosts-and-blue-sweaters · 3 months

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@monthly-challenge 2024 | “first kiss” (but make it platonic)

Hi yes I’m posting another fic no I don’t know how. Enjoying it though. Artham Wingfeather my beloved.

read on A03

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When Esben bursts through the doors, Artham shoots to his feet and expects the worst. He’d been daring to hope for hours now, keeping a sturdy faith in the Maker’s goodness, and that hope hadn’t once vanished or lessened—even after the sun set and the stars came alive, long after the moon made its journey across the midnight sky, and all the way up to the gentle but brilliant sunrise. He hadn’t lost his hope. He hadn’t lost his faith.

But now, all the hope and faith in the world evaporates like water, leaving Artham with a sick, sinking hole splitting his chest apart. Something went wrong. Something went so terribly wrong. One of them didn’t make it. None of them made it. No one could help. No one could do anything. It’s all over now. No more can be done.

Something went wrong.

Esben spins around, searching wildly. His eyes catch Artham’s and then he stills. His hair is greasy and tangled. There’s tear tracks on his face.

Artham’s breath stops in his throat.

And then Esben laughs—or cries or sobs or shouts, or maybe all of them at once. And Artham’s breath returns; the sinking hole in his chest begins to mend itself. It’s okay.

“How are things?” He asks, which seems far too refined a question to ask in a situation like this, but it’s all Artham can think to say—and he wants to know.

“Great! Perfect, just brilliant!” Esben laughs (it’s clearly a laugh this time) and gleefully runs his fingers through his hair. “Nia’s- she’s as bright and beautiful as ever, even- oh Artham, you should’ve seen her. As surely as I stand today, there’s never been a braver woman in all of Anniera—no, in all the world! She’s just- oh, I don’t know. I don’t know how she managed to do that. I could never, certainly… oh, surely not.”

He shakes his head, a somewhat horrified look coming upon his face, before he looks up, brightening. His eyes are shining like the sea. “It’s a girl.”

And then Artham does what he should have done the moment Esben opened those doors: he races forward, quick as the wind, and pulls his brother to himself, one hand on the back of his head. Esben cries, returning the embrace with shaking arms.

Artham holds on tighter.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, hugging in the middle of a hallway. It could’ve been decades or millennia and Artham would have never pulled away.

But then Esben is bouncing, unfurling his arms from his brother and taking a step back. His eyes are bright like sunlight despite the bags underneath. He looks free. “What are we doing, all the way out here? Come on, you have to meet her! Just think Artham, you have a niece now!” He grins. “How cool is that?”

Artham opens and closes his mouth. Oh. A… a niece. Him. He has a niece now. Oh.

Esben chuckles. “You’re speechless. Y’know, I can always count on having a kid to shut your mouth for a few blessed minutes.” He winks, clearly joking, but Artham barely hears the words.

I have a niece. She’s a girl. I’m an uncle to a girl.

“I-”

“Come on!” Esben hurries forward, taking Artham’s hand like a child and rushing through the doors and into the bedroom. Artham blinks, following blindly.

The lights are low, a quiet and steady dimness that feels comforting. The midwives must have left by this point, because all that remains is Nia, sitting against a tower of pillows in bed. She’s holding something small close to her chest.

Artham gasps. His feet stumble.

Nia looks up; she looks tired, with hair sticking to her face and dark spots under her eyes and lines on her forehead, but Esben was right: she’s as bright and beautiful as ever. There’s a glow that seems to radiate from her whole being, happiness and relief and gratitude all rolled into one. She smiles. “Hello, Artham.”

“Congratulations, my lady,” Artham stutters, because that’s the sort of thing he ought to say to someone who just gave birth. Right? He said it for Janner and Kalmar, didn’t he?

Nia dips her head in thanks, and Artham’s nerves are somewhat eased. That’s the sort of thing he ought to say, then.

“Come on!” Esben urges, dragging Artham forward a few steps. “You have to see her!”

Artham realizes that he and Esben had walked in holding hands, and Nia had said nothing about it. She had only smiled.

Somehow, Artham’s love for his sister-in-law grows.

Esben leads him all the way to the edge of the bed, where he stops and grins so wide it seems his mouth will jump right off his face. Artham stands there dumbly.

“Do you see her?” Esben asks dreamily. “Do you see how perfect she is?”

Artham leans forward slightly, eyes wide as he searches for the tiny thing. Nia smiles and gently tilts the bundle in her arms towards-

“Oh,” Artham breathes. “Oh.”

Because in Nia’s arms, wrapped in a soft blanket, is a baby; an unbelievably small, amazingly delicate baby.

Artham leans even closer, watching the baby’s nose gently flare with silent breaths. Her eyes are shut, her skin is pink, and Artham thinks she may be the most perfect thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“She’s beautiful,” He murmurs, and Nia beams.

“Do you want to hold her?”

Artham tears his gaze away from the baby, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

“Our child.” Nia tilts her head meaningfully. “Would you like to hold her?”

“I-” Artham looks to his brother, feeling oddly helpless.

Esben grins, nodding eagerly. “Hold her. Hold your niece and say hello.”

Artham shuts his mouth, then opens it, then nods.

There’s no need to ask for instruction on how to properly hold the newborn; Artham learned from Janner and Kalmar, and he doesn’t think he could ever forget the feel of an impossibly tiny human resting in his arms, or the immense responsibility it carries—the knowledge that you are the keeper of a helpless human being, all that stands between them and death. It’s a wonderful and terrifying feeling.

Nia carefully moves the baby, a motion so smooth that the infant doesn’t stir. In seconds, the baby has passed from her mother’s chest to her uncle’s hands. Artham doesn’t dare look away from her.

She really is small. Smaller than her brothers when they were born.

A flutter of worry erupts in the Throne Warden’s chest. “Is she healthy?”

“Healthy as can be,” Esben answers, placing a cheerful hand over Artham’s shoulder. “We thought she was small as well. But, the midwives assured us that her size isn’t dangerous, and she’s been content as a thwap in a totato patch so far.”

“But we’re keeping a close eye on her,” Nia adds. “Just in case.”

“Just in case,” Esben echoes, quieter.

Artham swallows. The baby doesn’t even stretch from his hand to his elbow. She is so, unfathomably small.

She makes an equally small noise, and Artham’s eyes go wide as a (somehow smaller) hand reaches out of the blanket, plaintively waving.

“It’s alright,” Artham soothes, voice soft like the blanket the newborn rests in. Using the hand that isn’t currently occupied, he holds out his index finger to her.

She grabs it. Like instinct.

Just like that, her noises cease, and she relaxes amidst the blanket. Artham suddenly finds that he is unable to move.

She’s beautiful. She’s perfect. She looks like the Maker painted each and every detail with the softest paintbrush and the calmest colors. She looks like tiny blue waves lapping at a sandy shore, sea-birds gliding and chirping nearby. She looks like the music notes for the most stunning piece of music.

She looks like a song.

Artham breathes out (though he isn’t sure how) and he thinks he smiles and he knows he cries, because how? How does one experience pure beauty like this, and live unmoved by it? It’s impossible, he believes. It’s impossible.

The baby opens her eyes for a brief moment, blinking and yawning. They are brilliant. If true could be a color, that would be hers.

Artham pulls the baby closer, gazing deep into her face and attempting to memorize every shape of it, and every line. Every single detail.

She’s still gripping his index finger with a gentleness he doesn’t think he could ever deserve. He wants to sob. If he did that, though, then he would probably drop her.

Instead, he dips his head forward and presses his lips to her forehead, wondering at how new the skin feels. She has not yet been weathered and beaten by storms and sun. Artham finds himself grieving the day she will lose this newness, this softness, this remarkable state of being that’s unique to newborns.

He lingers there. He doesn’t know for how long. She is so perfect.

It is in this moment that Artham Wingfeather’s heart shifts, allowing room for someone else to make a home there; a small space, filled with ocean waves and flapping birds and singing. A space for this innocent child that he holds in his arms. A space he will fight to the death for. He will die before this space becomes empty and overgrown, he decides.

“As long as I live, I won’t let anything happen to you,” Artham promises, pulling away and staring into her sleeping face. “I promise. I promise by the Maker’s good hand, young…”

He pauses, and a realization strikes him. He looks up—perhaps for the first time in a very long while—and looks to the parents’ faces, which are both glowing and wet.

“What’s her name?” He asks.

Esben looks at Nia, and Nia looks at Esben. “We don’t know yet,” He says slowly.

Nia smiles. “It will come as the Maker wills it. For now, I am content to call her mine—call her ours.”

Artham looks back to the newborn, taking her in once more; her nose, her ears, her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes, her meager supply of hair. His heart begins to warm like a fire in a hearth. “Leeli.”

The room quiets.

“What?” Nia asks softly.

“Leeli.” Artham smiles, and the fire inside his chest burns brighter. “Leeli Wingfeather. Her name.”

He swallows, looking up before looking back down. “Leeli.”

“Leeli,” Nia repeats, soft like the beginning of a song.

Esben looks from brother to wife, then back again. “Where’s that name from, Artham?”

Artham thinks for a moment. “I’m not sure. It just… sounded like her.”

“Leeli,” The High King murmurs. He sounds thoughtful.

The room is quiet. Then:

“I think it’s lovely.” Nia’s voice is strong through the dimness, and Artham wonders if she has a fire in her chest as well. “Leeli, Song Maiden of Anniera.”

“Leeli Wingfeather.” Esben smiles, nodding his head and shaking water droplets to the floor. “That’s perfect.”

Artham turns back to the child in his arms, and he feels an odd respect for her, despite her unassuming size. She is the Song Maiden—something the kingdom has not had in many long years. Artham instantly knows that she will fill the land with music, and it will be the most beautiful music anyone has ever heard.

He smiles once more, watching her sleep peacefully in his arms. “Hello, Leeli Wingfeather. We’ve been waiting for you a long, long time.”

He smiles wider. “I can’t wait for you to learn to sing.”

#februfluff2024 #the wingfeather saga #artham wingfeather #leeli wingfeather #leeli igiby #Nia wingfeather #esben wingfeather #my post #my stories #yayyyy I finished a fic in time for an event yayyyy

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mayzi33 · 24 days

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******SPOILERS, SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD.*********

I have so much to say I'm afraid my brain might explode. So I'll try to keep calm despite still being at the verge of tears.

When I first started this book series, I thought it would be the usual light, cutesy fantasy about friendship and family. And oh boy, OH BOY WAS I WRONG.

On a side note, something I'd like to point out I noticed, from the first book to the third, the lighting on the cover progressively gets darker. Of course, representing the story itself as the plot gets darker as well. On the last book, it's still dark, but there's a light coming from Janner, Kalmar and Leeli, like they finally reached sunrise after a long, ruthless night. Something i'm pretty sure was said at some point on the books themselves, about no matter how long the night is the day will always come.

Anyways. Back to the topic at hand. As the story progressed, I keep growing more and more connected to these characters, and each chapter I rooted more and more for the Jewels Of Anniera.

I'd like to add that I'm an only child, yet, somehow, I can tell Janner is one of the best eldest sibling characters ever written. My whole life I've only watched siblings around me and their relationship with eachother, especially on the eldest's side, and somehow, Janner reminded me of every friend, family member or random stranger I saw on the streets someday that have siblings.

Janner is such a complex character. He is by no means perfect, but he does have a golden heart. One of the things I was most impressed by was how the author described Janner's feelings, whatever it was the longing for his father, or just feeling burdened by his siblings. And yet, no matter what Janner is feeling, the narrator never invalidates his feelings or antagonize him. Janner is a child, a child who went through a lot. He is allowed to miss a father he never had just as he is allowed to sometimes be annoyed for always having to make sacrifices for his siblings. But one of the things I admired the most about Janner (along with everyone else I'm pretty sure) was his character development. At the first book, he'd roll his eyes at the mere thought of having to look after his siblings and saw them as a burden. At the second book, he learned the hard way how much Kalmar and Leeli matter to him, and how it hurts to be away from them. On the third book, he took pride on his title as Throne Warden and role as the eldest sibling, being devoted to protecting the High King and Song Maiden. And at last, on the last book, he leaves pride aside. He doesn't take care of Kalmar and Leeli because it's his duty, because it's honorable, neither because that's what he has always been told to do. He does it because he loves them above all else, because he finally sees how strong the bond the three of them share truly is, because he feels the blessing the Maker has gifted them, and how much stronger they are when they're together.

Janner is a kind, brave, clever, beautiful boy.

And I will forever believe that they managed to get him the water from the First Well to heal him. I will nor accept any other ending.

Kalmar. At first, the typical goofy, troublemaking sibling, more like a comic relief. But again, OHOHOHO BOY... DID THAT CHANGE.

I definetely did not expect for them to take the turn they did with Kalmar. I could tell that he would have some character arc mainly towards maturing and taking responsability, but I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE LIKE THAT. Seeing that bright, easy-going, smiley little boy loosing his usual joyful personality when he was fanged, slowly loosing his sanity and growing on his self loathing was really something painful yet beautiful to watch. Like Janner, he also had to learn his lesson on the hardest way possible. An extrovert kid like him, having everyone turning their backs on him and looking at him with hatred, and yet, he learned to keep his head high, like a High King. (the phrase "keep your head held high or else your crown will fall" is literally perfect for him.) And most of all, seeing him risk his life to aid a strange cloven, (that turned out to be his father) grant the Hollowsfolk his forgiveness despite everything they did to him, show mercy and compassion to the Fangs despite everything they did, all of these things make Kalmar an inspiring ruler, and leaves me assured that he will be a great king after all.

Now, Leeli, sweet, pure-hearted Leeli. I will be honest, at first I was afraid that they would make her the typical "overly nice and overly fragile female character", but again, BOY WAS I WRONG. (I don't know how many times I will repeat that, I apologize.) At some points in the books, she didn't have as much spotlight as her brother and I felt like she was kind of being thrown aside. But there's always a turn the books take that make her lack of spotlight at first worth it. So young, the youngest of the Jewels Of Anniera, yet she has seen and done so much. Has a bad leg, needed to use a crutch since she was little, yet that literally never stopped her. She strives to keep up with her brothers, and despite his kind personality she shows she can be festy and even scary when she wants to. (I will never forget that moment in the second book where she was yelling at the trolls and fangs and they were actually eager to obey her lol). She hates it when people assume she's weak and often refuses help, proving she's perfectly capable. But at times, she does need help, which shows us all it's okay to have someone to rely on. She was the link between Janner and Kalmar, no matter how much they argued nor how mad they were at eachother, she was always there for both of them and connecting them back together. She may not be able to fight like her brothers, but she found her own strenght. Her music, something that has always brought joy and hope to others turns out to be an ACTUAL weapon. She kicked a Green Fang to defend her puppy, she was the first one to see the pain and kindess through Peet, Nugget sacrificed himself for her showing how her strong her love for others really is, she stopped A FREAKING DRAGON from killing her grandpa, she led an army of dogs, she defeated countless fangs with nothing but her song. One of the best child female chracters I've seen in a while. She is feminine, has her weak points, but she finds her strenght, not in swords, punches or bows but on a whistleharp. I love her so much I can't describe it.

I love all of these kids so much. I am *proud* of them. I know it's a weird thing to say about fictional characters, but these books just make me feel this way. I can't name a single character I didn't connect or feel empathy with.

Nia, such a strong, independent woman, raising her children having lost her husband and kingdom, yet keep her head held high like the queen she is.

Podo, a man who has sinned, takes shame on them, yet shows that sinners can still be good people. Loves his family above all else, protected and took care of them until his last breath, might have been a little rough around the edges, but always showed a soft spot for his daughter and grandkids.

Artham, a broken man, haunted by the shame of loosing his brother, slowly, but surely, healing. Learning to move on by protecting his nephews and niece, making what was once a weakness a strenght.

Oskar, an old man that was always sitting on the library, letting go of his peaceful life and risking his life to accompany the Wingfeathers through thick and thin.

Sara, who was taken from her family, abused and had all her hope crushed, finding her courage back after meeting Janner and taking after him, being a sisterly figure, leader and queen ti billions of orphan children, and helping them find their strenght and fight for their freedom.

Maraly, a rude strander girl who was raised horribly her whole life by her abusive father, finally finding true love and a true father figure.

Everything about this story has touched me. A broken world taken by an evil monarch who turned to be just another broken soul, filled with hopeless people, people who had surrended to the darkness... Saved by three children, who brought light everywhere they went. A boy with scars, a boy inside a wolf, and a girl with a crutch. Kids who one day were mere peasants, the other were the Jewels Of Anniera, and a year later, heroes of Aerwiar.

I've smiled, I've laughed, I've been shocked, I've been scared, I've been mad, I've cried. I have red lots, and I mean LOTS of books. Different stories, different worlds, different characters. Yet none of them has touched me half as much as The Wingfeather Saga.

It has war, tears, bloodshed, betrayals, sacrifices and sorrow. But it also has love, joy, hope, laughter, wonder and light.

This story definetely deserves way more fans and recognition. I hope that with the new animated series (which I'll definetely watch later) it begins to gain more love.

Anyways. I really love this in case y'all couldn't tell already. Have a good day/afternoon/evening.

#the wingfeather saga #janner wingfeather #kalmar wingfeather #leeli wingfeather #the warden and the wolf king #podo helmer #nia wingfeather #book rant #andrew peterson #christianity #underrated books #fantasy books

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