Head empty just vague notions of writing a fic/ficlet/oneshot that's just Rye and Dirk (and maybe Sholto) if they didn't make up so quickly whenever they were vaguely contesting each other and 'Willing and Able' by Noah Kahan
Did this mean — could it mean — that the little nutshell actually had the power to grant wishes?
His heart pounding with excitement, Rye fitted the halves of shell together and wished fiercely for something to eat. But when he pulled the halves apart again, there was nothing to be seen inside.
the title written in gold on the front cover seemed to wink at him slyly. 'The Three Brothers'. No wonder that title had stirred him when he first saw it! The coincidence still gave him a strange feeling. How could he have forgotten he was one of three?
THE THREE DOORS
The Third Door
Ch 11 The Pit
I really loved this scene on first read bc it was it's the first time we see Sholto (not Shotlo, as I learned while writing this) break from his smart-ass persona and I just think that's nifty.
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Shit. He should not have brought Rye here.
Sholto watched the color drain from his brother’s face as Rye looked through his strange little device. Rye must have realized what a foolish hope it was to think that Sholto had a plan. There was no magic solution, no easy fix to all their problems. Just the massive, indifferent ocean looming over them.
If he could wave a magic wand and transport them both home, away from all this, he would. But obviously, that was impossible.
Sholto had refused to admit it to himself, but he had no plan. He had no clue what he was doing when he found his way here, when he impersonated a guard, and especially when he brought Rye to see the horrors of the Dispatch Area. He had hoped his brother’s restlessness would finally simmer down after being shown the reality of the situation, but instead it had broken him completely.
“Oh Rye, I am sorry!” he blurted out. He scrambled for an apology, the words rushing out of his mouth like a tsunami crashing on the shore.
“Fool that I am! I should not have allowed you to hope. Dirk would have known better. He is good with people. I am not. But that is no excuse…”
Rye’s breath relaxed. Sholto was confused – he had not expected his outburst to be of any comfort. Nevertheless, he would take what he could get. He grasped his fingers around Rye’s shoulders.
“Come. We will go back to the cell,” he murmured. “We can release the captives, and give them a fighting chance.”
But Rye did not budge. Instead he turned to Sholto, blabbering about his bag of tricks, insistent that it held the solution. The fire in his eyes alarmed Sholto. It reminded him of Dirk.
Although Sholto was still hesitant to believe that his absence had lasted a full year, it was obvious that Rye had grown up. He was braver, more ambitious.
But his youthful naivety still remained. Whatever powerful mechanisms sealed this door shut, there was clearly nothing to be done about it.
Sholto argued with him: how could he possibly think his bag of tricks could open the door? But when Rye hissed defiantly that Sholto was wrong, Sholto was reminded of many late night arguments with his mother. He heard his own defiant confidence in Rye’s strained whispers.
So when Rye slammed the golden key against the door, he was not shocked. After all, it was exactly what he would have done.
When it actually worked – that’s when he was surprised. The door’s seal broke and it cracked open. Sholto froze, saved only by Rye grabbing his arm and jumping as the tide rushed in.
For me, the endlessness of The Three Doors Trilogy lies in the nostalgia of it all. These books will always feels like home to me, and I relate so deeply them. Lisbeth has always reminded me so much of my mum, I haven’t got a dad around, and as the youngest with two older siblings who are more charismatic and academic than me, Rye has always been me. It’s scary growing up and rereading, realising I’m now older than Rye. When I had read this series for the first time, I looked forward to when he and I would be the same age. I don’t know what Rye’s future holds. I don’t know what his life would be like at 18. But every time I open up The Golden Door again, and I smell those aged and worn pages, it feels almost like the first time. It is peace, it is comfort, it is nostalgia, it is home. This series holds such a special place in my heart, and it always will. This little community means so much to me, even if I’m not around all the time. And to me, that is what makes it endless. ♡
[The crystal] was strong enough to show Rye that he had been right. He and Sonia were not the first people to have taken shelter in the goat house.
THE THREE DOORS
The Golden Door
Ch 12 Nine Powers
