Well, it happened. And now, there is no sleeping to be had at the treehouse. Of course, for an Elda, sleep is not quite necessary - it is replaced by meditation, eyes open, and rest. Neither of those things are easy to achieve either, though, with a newborn dictating the schedule ( Read more... )

It's been two weeks. Jack knows because Jack's been counting. On the pillars of his bed, not too far from the ballroom, he started making a notch every night. Some were crooked, he has to admit. Anything involving a knife, that happens where you're solidly drunk, is bound to be a problem ( Read more... )

She was resting quietly - a friend was to visit, as indeed Angelique has been bedridden for a long while now. She's in fact been expecting the labor to start every day... for a month ( Read more... )

There have been rumors about an event - a tourney, wherein men would fight to show their greatest might, and ladies would cheer them, and grant them their favour if they did well ( Read more... )

The time has come for works to begin. Ned is waiting for words from Captain Reynolds, who told him he would find more workers, but he did in fact begin to amass his forces. First comes digging: if the home is to withstand the elements, its foundations must be solid, merged in rock ( Read more... )

On the last night of the old year, a change has come over the main rooms of the mansion. Decorations have been hung, bowls of confetti stand ready, noise makers and party hats are scattered throughout the rooms. There are tables laden with food, ranging from light snacks to rich desserts. Other tables hold drinks, from enough bottles to make any ( Read more... )

It has taken time for this to happen, for the Dark Lord to gather it all, his influence of that which is not Arda but close enough to it, that which he hates about all else for the light of it remains a beacon ( Read more... )

Ned has been very quiet, of late. His days are spent looking after his children, those who've grown and those who've yet to be born.

But this morning, his mind is on Westeros, and those children still unaccounted for. Bran. Rickon.

Snow falls slowly, covering the land, flat and hilly alike, and he whispers to himself, winter has come.Nostalgia ( Read more... )

Summer. The weather is perfect, in the eyes of Temeraire at least, for swimming! The great black dragon is happy to swim about in the lake, splashing and occasionally snapping at and snapping up the fish that swim in the deeper parts of the water ( Read more... )