CROSSING PATHS [Closed]

“I personally prefer to walk but I though you may be more comfortable with a pony at least for the first leg of our journey.” 

Walking over to the horses Rhaweth let her fingers brush against the the strong rough hairs, wondering what the journey ahead may bring.

“Forgive me for asking you this …considering we will be travelling till morning do you have any weapons on you?”

She was still saying a silent hello to the pony, but started slightly at the mention of weapons.

“I-... Yes. D’ye think we’ll be needing ‘em so soon? I’ve had my fair share of trouble, mind. And I’ve always felt safer having this with me,” said the young lady, pulling from the sheath on her hip a dwarven knife that was certainly older than she was. She watched it catch the moonlight for a moment, almost lovingly, before tucking it away again.

“I was taught how to use it, if you’re worried about that.”

“Starry Night” costume, 1926

From the Hillwood Museum

nosferatuinblue

Le Guerno, Brittany, France by Rad Wollf

The Empress's New Wine Boy///Ancient Rome AU

She knew there was a very good reason why the guard was circled around her like a wreath, but there was no cause to suffocate her. He was carrying a jug of wine, not a venomous snake. Besides, they were ruining her view.

“Cyprianus,” she said, flicking her fingers at the guard who was blocking most of the cute boy, “let him through.”

He stepped aside just enough, and finally, she could feast her eyes. He was fixated on the stream of deep red, looking distinctly nervous. She was charmed by his shyness, and could barely suppress a silent giggle as she looked him over. He was, indeed, quite lovely. She hadn’t seen his equal anywhere in the Empire. It brightened up her day considerably, and she decided then and there that for the rest of her visit, no one else would do. He would pour her wine, or no one would. Content in this decision even before it had been shared, Anna smiled at him.

“His face is sweeter than the wine,” she said in Greek, knowing he woudn’t understand her. It was just as well, he looked self conscious enough already. But surely he spoke Latin; this place had been part of the Empire since long before her reign had started.

“What is your name?”

The guards separated like the red sea upon hearing statements issued in Empress Anna’s dulcet, foreign tones. They were tall and imposing brutes clad in metal and flowing, crimson cloaks like machine men - faceless drones, grimaces like masks meant to ward off enemies. Just looking at them made Nuno nervous, he was more accustomed to the wispy and frail than thick and muscular.

And then he saw Empress Anna.

Every legend of her beauty and majesty, distilled into a single elixir, would be bitter and dull compared to her marvelous reality. His eyes were frantic upon baring witness to the Empress, lounging in her lavish throne. He saw the light shine off her golden curls, the depth of her eyes, the curve of her large, round tummy beneath thin layers of silken robe. There was so much presence to her, he found himself thinking, he had never seen a living creature that existed quite as much or in the same way as Empress Anna.

She seemed to be not of this world, and in his moment of spellbound rapture he dropped the wine jug, which shattered upon hitting the ground.

“Oh, Gods,” he said in panic as he dropped to his knees, sifting through the alcoholic puddle to gather up pieces of broken crockery, “I beg your forgiveness, oh great and beautiful - I mean, uh, bountiful Empress Anna.”

In his panic he stared at the ground and hyperventilated, before gathering the breath to look up slightly and whisper, “Nuno is my name, my Imperial Highness.”

Anyone would’ve been able to read the look on his face. The Empress was no exception; she was quite amused by it, and encouraged him with a smirk and a stare through long eyelashes. And then-…

He looked so utterly terrified that she almost felt badly for giggling.

“Oh! No, no- leave someone else to get that,” she laughed. Anna rose- her guard spread out in front of her as she stepped forward- and strode over to where the spindly, nervous wine bearer stood.

“Nuno.”

She liked the way his name felt on her lips.

“You are forgiven. But my cup is still empty,” she said with the same impish look on her face. She turned to the nearer servant she’d snubbed before.

“You! Give him your jug.”

While the other wine bearer hurried to do as he was told (and yet another servant came to clean up the spill and broken pottery), Empress Anna turned back to Nuno and lifted a gentle hand to his beautiful face. Pale fingers trailed down a perfect jaw. Right at this moment, she didn’t care if he smashed every jug in the whole Empire. He was gorgeous. A gift from the Gods to sweeten her visit here. She looked at him with soft eyes, and spoke kindly.

“Try again. As many times as you need. I wish no one else to fill my cup.”

Wandering the countryside by Angela

The White Council (Extended Version)

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Source

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  “ Upside down? ” 

  It doesn’t seem to be the first time she’s done this, Pippin thinks to himself as he glances up at her, and he’s not in the least bit surprised. He could have proclaimed her an honorary Took with all the trouble she gets herself into. 

  “ It worked juist fine when I did it sideweys lest time! ”

“Sideways? But then, how d'ye get the thing inside?”

She freezes when she hears a door opening somewhere nearby.

“Nevermind,” she whispers, “just finish quick! We’ll have to go out through the window.”

              open

   “When I was a kid, my dad used to try an’ make me feel better     about being called a geek by sayin’ that bein’ smart was useful     in the real world and that in 10 years all the popular kids with C     averages would be workin’ for me.”

Murray clenches his fist and glances briefly at the confused and  poorly worded e-mail he just opened on his phone screen. Why do corporate people use so many exclamation marks? What  are they, seven?

   “Yeah, that’s not true. My dad was a liar.”

“When I was a kid, Granny used to try to make me feel better about being called ‘weird’ and various epithets based on the size of my arse by saying that some people were just little shits. She was right. I could roll us a joint while I listen to you complain, if you like. Or just listen to you complain,” she said, slouching down a little.

“Either way. Here for you.”

Haunted morning 131/365 by Ute Reckhorn

4th century CE Roman gold bracelet depicting sea life. From the Metropolitan Museum of Art.