also this is an EXTREMELY good fable jam
i made this and it’s getting a lot of bad takes in the facebook group
Addendum: Theresa never made any of them do anything, Lucien could have just as easily said “I want my wife and kid back but it’s not what she would have wanted, so no”, and stay tuned for my 100000 word essay on why Reaver is just as accountable as Logan for his tyranny
Sparrow knows that look. Garth wore it every time he encountered something new, and she also knew he wouldn’t rest until his curiosity was satiated. She assumed most everyone at the college was similar, going off of Zoe’s apparent disappointment at her own sleepiness.
“I’ll be fine,” She smiles, kissing his cheek, “I didn’t miss you tossing and turning.” Sparrow drops her voice, “What about Mordred? Should I take him?”
Zoe balances the empty cups on the tray, “Er, I have a hunch my sister will be here soon. Probably morning, but knowing her, she’ll be here before sunrise. She knows where to find me, but just be ready if she wants to talk to you first.” She shrugs, in a very “you know it is” kind of way.
Garth glances at Mordred speculatively; he seemed restive, as if building a frenetic web in his mind. After the night they’d just had, he can only imagine. “Mm. Leave him be for now. I think he has his own searching to do.” He’s pretty sure Mordred will get into something he’s not supposed to, but he also thinks that’s part of the design. The air of inevitability was thick around him.
“White dragon,” Mordred mutters after Zoe’s spoken, his hands wringing impatiently as if he’s trying to understand something. “Throat of the World. Here. Both. Where am I?” A groan of frustration.
Garth gives Sparrow a “see what I mean?” expression before following Savos.
Sparrow wonders how similar Zoe’s sister is to her. The khef between them is already obvious if the older is able to know she’s needed from whatever distance she’s at. Dragonborn, would she look any different? Guess she’ll have to wait until morning to find out.
Sparrow nods to Garth in reply, still hesitant to leave Mordred alone, but trusting her husband’s instincts. He’ll find one of them if he needs to. She follows Zoe, making small talk. “Sounds like you and your sister are close?”
“Oh, yes! She’s my closest friend. It’s been hard being in Skyrim with her but not being able to stay with her. Do you have children? But you’re in a whole different world...”
“Two, they’re grown now, a son and a daughter. I don’t think they’d like all this cold, or the act of travel itself. They can handle themselves, but I’d like to get us back as quickly as possible. It’s not them I worry about in my kingdom.” Sparrow had a feeling that court intrigue was a constant across all levels. So the conversation continued until Zoe lead her to a small room partway up what looked to be an outer wall.
“It’s not much, but it’s more private than the Inn. I’m four doors down on the left if you need anything, are you all set?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine, thank you. Sleep well.”
reblog to kinkshame reaver
((psa: A Wrinkle In Time is just the research and personal development au))
Garth’s head feels full of information and questions, but not a whole lot of connexions – just disjointed themes and tangents that he wishes desperately to knit into a cohesive narrative. He feels the driving hunger that used to keep him up late nights in Lucien’s study, in Brightwood Tower, even in his homeland. The need to know, the need to see, a feverish motivation that would only be thwarted by death (and, perhaps not even then).
The College has quickly become familiar territory. Some of the trappings were different, and of course the closer he looks the more he sees the unfamiliar, but at the root he understands it – like taverns and forests, all homes for scholars had the same feel.
He stands and stretches, his spine popping audibly. “I hate to make you sleep alone again,” he murmurs to Sparrow, a sheepish smile pulling at his lips. “But as it stands, I’d just lay awake all night anyway.”
“Very good,” Savos responds to Zoe, then appraises Garth. “You may follow me when you’re ready.”
Sparrow knows that look. Garth wore it every time he encountered something new, and she also knew he wouldn’t rest until his curiosity was satiated. She assumed most everyone at the college was similar, going off of Zoe’s apparent disappointment at her own sleepiness.
“I’ll be fine,” She smiles, kissing his cheek, “I didn’t miss you tossing and turning.” Sparrow drops her voice, “What about Mordred? Should I take him?”
Zoe balances the empty cups on the tray, “Er, I have a hunch my sister will be here soon. Probably morning, but knowing her, she’ll be here before sunrise. She knows where to find me, but just be ready if she wants to talk to you first.” She shrugs, in a very “you know it is” kind of way.
Garth: “yeah lets take my extremely risky cullis gate and go the dangerous way … rather than the direct boat to Bloodstone”
“Since when does a mage ever miss an opportunity to show off?”
while looking up 1950s slang, i found the phrase “come on snake, let’s rattle,” which has 2 meanings: asking someone to dance, and challenging someone to a fight
and. hhhooooooooo boy does that fact have some Potential
Invite your crush to the dance floor, but instead they just fuckin deck you
Sparrow watches Mordred think, it’s easier than trying to make sense of the girl’s story in the moment. He still looks like he’s remembering another experience, another timeline. How strange that must feel.
“We do have a bit of a family history of that,” Zoe says, “Our several-times great-grandmother was the right hand of Martin Septim during the Oblivion crisis when Mehrunes Dagon tried to take over. He’s another daedric prince,” She adds, once again leaving out a big detail. Her grandmother was a daedric prince, and as if hearing her thoughts, there’s an itch on the back of her head. But she’d deal with that when her sister got there.
“Er, yes? Alduin is the world-eater, he destroys Tamriel at the end of time so it can be reborn. He decided he wanted to rule it instead, so my sister was born to stop him.”
“I wonder what these corrupt forces would even do with a world if they managed to conquer it,” Garth mutters dryly, thinking of the Corruptor and its agents. “I imagine they’d just get bored if they actually won.”
His eyebrow quirks at her elaboration. “And that is… common knowledge? The awareness of how your world ends and begins? –Mm, better question, if he is stopped, then does that disrupt or complete reality?” He considers for a moment, then snaps back to his original tangent. “I think perhaps your Alduin and Mordred have something in common. Are dragons able to ken universes other than their own?”
“I’m sure the answer to that is in our extensive library, and if it isn’t, then you’ll just have to summon a dragon and ask,” Savos speaks up, tipping a thimble’s worth of an endurance draught into his cooled tea and finishing it off like a shot. “Zoe, you should sleep. And you,” he adds, indicating Sparrow, “and…” He pauses on Mordred, then shrugs and continues, side-eyeing Zoe, “and don’t even think about sneaking a potion and pretending you’re not sleepy.”
“Right, you can only do so much before it’s all the same,” Sparrow replies, thinking of how boring it really is to run a country compared to how glamorous it seems. So you ate the world, then what? Can’t eat more than that.
Zoe pauses for a moment, “Well, not common knowledge. Most everybody in Skyrim knows that Alduin eats the world, but not too many know about the rebirth part of it. Outside of this room, my sister, the Greybeards, and the dragons...I think only Jarl Ulfric knows about Alduin’s true nature. It’s a bit much for your average person. Everyone just assumes that it’s the end of the world.” Zoe would continue, but a yawn punctuates her speech, and try as she might, she can’t conceal it, “My sister probably has an idea. I don’t think it would be a good thing if he never ate the world, necessarily. And if she doesn’t, Odahviing definitely will.” She doesn’t have an answer for Garth’s last question, but is glad that Savos was able to offer some kind of answer as she finishes her tea, and then scowls.
“Yes, father,” Zoe sasses, gathering up the empty cups, “I’ll show Sparrow to the guest quarters before I do.”
Zoe stares back for a moment, “The leader of the greybeards. Sits on top of the throat of the world all day and talks my sister’s ears off.” Zoe leaves out the fact that Paarthurnax is a dragon, too. If they were already confused about dragons, it was best to keep it simple for now.
“There used to be dragons in Albion, but I doubt they were anything like yours,” Sparrow says, “And they haven’t been seen since my ancestors ruled.”
“Well, a dragon is…” Zoe looks like she’s trying to physically rearrange the thoughts hanging above her head to form a simple narrative, “There’s Akatosh, the dragon-god who governs time and is supposed to guard the empire, and all the dragons are his creations, or maybe they’re pieces of the god, we’re not sure. There’s the Dov like Alduin and the one from earlier, big scaly beasts that like to Shout, and they’re either pieces of Akatosh or his children…and then there’s my sister.” Zoe thinks for a long moment, “She’s a dragon, because she’s got a dragon’s soul. But she’s human, too. Akatosh chose her to handle Alduin, the world-eater. She can take the souls of other dragons if she kills them, I don’t know how that works or what she does with them but…” Zoe shrugs, “She doesn’t even fully understand what she is.”
Paarthurnax, Mordred sounds out silently. Three syllables. Dimly, as if through a caul, he sees glyphs sketch themselves, but the more he squints the less he is able to see them. He relaxes with some effort, pretends to forget about it – like one looking away from something in order to see it better in one’s peripheral. The dragon tongue, he remembers suddenly, as if it had been his knowledge from the beginning. But it isn’t. –Not his, as he is now. But his, as he is with <white dragon>.
Paarthurnax is a dragon, he thinks.
Meanwhile, Garth contemplates Zoe’s explanation, with a little difficulty – but not too much. To him, it sounds more straightforward than it probably should. “A mortal heart is a surprisingly useful tool in thwarting the plans of the immortal. Like existing squarely in one’s enemy’s blind spot. –Also, did you say world-eater?”
We are the messenger. <little world eater> is the message. The words still ring oddly in his mind, words he’d spoken to the dragon in the dragon’s tongue, as if compelled by something stronger than him. Little world eater was Mordred… but if this Alduin was also a world-eater… what did this mean? What did any of this mean? As he’s thinking, Garth appears still and stunned, his eye tracking in little tics back and forth as if reading, or dreaming.
Sparrow watches Mordred think, it’s easier than trying to make sense of the girl’s story in the moment. He still looks like he’s remembering another experience, another timeline. How strange that must feel.
“We do have a bit of a family history of that,” Zoe says, “Our several-times great-grandmother was the right hand of Martin Septim during the Oblivion crisis when Mehrunes Dagon tried to take over. He’s another daedric prince,” She adds, once again leaving out a big detail. Her grandmother was a daedric prince, and as if hearing her thoughts, there’s an itch on the back of her head. But she’d deal with that when her sister got there.
“Er, yes? Alduin is the world-eater, he destroys Tamriel at the end of time so it can be reborn. He decided he wanted to rule it instead, so my sister was born to stop him.”
Sparrow almost snorts at that. What is now. It seemed so perfectly apt to her husband’s situation.
“My sister,” Zoe says, “The dragonborn. Nobody’s ever called her ‘White Dragon’, though. If you stick around for a few days she’s sure to stop by, she usually makes it up every loredas and stays through sundas night. Is she taking you up the throat of the world?” Zoe’s face changes, to one looking slightly annoyed, “Is she taking you to meet Paarthurnax before she takes me? I guess if it’s another timeline it doesn’t count…”
Dragonborn. A hell of a word, Garth thinks. Born of a dragon? Able to become a dragon? He isn’t entirely sure of the meaning, but he has a suspicion it doesn’t matter – it is a title of power, and if Mordred is [was, will be] in the company of one, then… well, they’d just have to see what happened next.
Mordred stares unblinkingly at Zoe, not comprehending. “What is a Paarthurnax.”
“So– the dragon in town… and now this Dragonborn… what is a dragon, exactly?” Garth asks, figuring a 101 lesson was in store. The word itself rarely meant anything on its own; it was how dragons manifested in a world and what they contributed that really defined what a dragon was. It never is just another large winged creature, and here that seemed especially true.
Zoe stares back for a moment, “The leader of the greybeards. Sits on top of the throat of the world all day and talks my sister’s ears off.” Zoe leaves out the fact that Paarthurnax is a dragon, too. If they were already confused about dragons, it was best to keep it simple for now.
“There used to be dragons in Albion, but I doubt they were anything like yours,” Sparrow says, “And they haven’t been seen since my ancestors ruled.”
“Well, a dragon is...” Zoe looks like she’s trying to physically rearrange the thoughts hanging above her head to form a simple narrative, “There’s Akatosh, the dragon-god who governs time and is supposed to guard the empire, and all the dragons are his creations, or maybe they’re pieces of the god, we’re not sure. There’s the Dov like Alduin and the one from earlier, big scaly beasts that like to Shout, and they’re either pieces of Akatosh or his children...and then there’s my sister.” Zoe thinks for a long moment, “She’s a dragon, because she’s got a dragon’s soul. But she’s human, too. Akatosh chose her to handle Alduin, the world-eater. She can take the souls of other dragons if she kills them, I don’t know how that works or what she does with them but...” Zoe shrugs, “She doesn’t even fully understand what she is.”
we will win this war, and the world will know us as veteran heroes – battle ready, and a force to be reckoned with.
The human body has 7 trillion nerves and some people manage to get on every single fucking one of them
((There’s people I wanna thread with but do I have ideas???? HELL no!))