Posts Tagged 'oh this is so perfect!'

m, fenris?


M – When
it rains/snows/storms

Minrathous, Seheron, Kirkwall
– all warm climates with a sweltering sun, and air that hisses and sighs with
heat. This is what he knows, and vehemently prefers, when faced with the

In this case, the alternative
is Ferelden, known for two things: an over-abundance of mud, and a population
of dogs to outnumber its people. But as far as Fenris can see, the only
abundance of anything is the white, unpleasantly cold substance that has kept
his wife in high spirits for the better part of their journey south.

His youngest sits on his hip,
a solid and warm weight where everything else is cold. “Da,” she says. Then,
points. “O.”

“Snow,” he agrees, with a
sigh. “Yes.”

“Ma,” she says then, and he follows the line of her gaze towards
where Hawke is trying – and succeeding – in shoving snow down her brother’s
trousers. For his part, Carver is doing a good job yelling loud enough to
attract every highway bandit in a mile’s radius, but neither of them seem to
find the noise at all excessive.

Another sigh. “Yes, that is
your mother. And your uncle.”

A snowball flies across the
path, hitting Hawke square in the back of the head, and she whirls to find her
son falling over himself with laughter.

“And your brother,” Fenris
adds, and feels, suddenly, like a stranger in his own family. Nearly two
decades in Kirkwall has not managed to knock the Fereldan from either of their
bones. Even his eldest – born in the Anderfels, perhaps, but raised in
Kirkwall, is romping through the snow like he was born in it.

A small touch of cold against
his nose, and he looks up towards the grey skies, and the snowflakes drifting

“No,” his daughter says simply, tucking her face against his
scarf, the brush of her dark hair prompting him to press his cheek against it. Then,
as though uttering it with enough insistence will convince the weather to change its ways (and
considering her heritage, the thought is not implausible)


“My sincerest sympathies,” he agrees, gaze following his wife as
she hoists their son up by his armpits, to toss him into the nearest snowbank.
“What say you we go back home to Kirkwall, you and I?”

“Wall,” she agrees solemnly,
and despite the snow seeping into his boots, Fenris finds a smile.

From across the path, Hawke
looks up, scarf tangled with her hair and cheeks flushed from the cold, and her grin ten years younger. She’s so much more than her place of origin, but the frozen
earth has turned something soft within her; has made mellow a countenance that
the city has spent years hardening. It might just be nostalgia, but he doesn’t begrudge her this sliver of happiness, even if he can’t find it in himself to understand it.

And, “You will grow to love it,” he says, even
knowing she can’t yet grasp the meaning of the words. But she is his,
and this he knows, as she will one day realize –

That the things which at
first seem inconceivable (a mage, the mother of his children; freedom, when he’d forgotten such a thing existed), might one day make all the sense in the

Blogger Gatherings!

Click the button for reports from the 2010 Spring Blogger Gathering, hosted by Linett of Nimrodel!

Berethron of Brandywine hosted the 2010 Summer Blogmoot.

The Winter Blogmoot was held on December 4, 9 p.m. EST at the home of Telwen of Silverlode.

Next up: The Spring Blogmoot of 2011 shall return to Nimrodel with Tuiliel (Whart, aka user-1027520) hosting! Linett is looking forward to another local moot!



Navigation by WebRing.
This site is a member of WebRing. To browse visit here.

Blog Stats

  • 16,950 hits

RSS LOTRO Calendar

  • An error has occurred; the feed is probably down. Try again later.

Twitter Updates

RSS Ranna Plays the Flute!

  • An error has occurred; the feed is probably down. Try again later.