#withywindleswriting

[withywindleswriting]

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[withywindleswriting]

“A Long & Quiet Darkness”

Chapter 25 - “Letters Home”

on AO3

The morning saw two very concerned-looking Dwarves staring at a small roll of thin parchment that had come to them by way of raven from Erebor. The very same bird which was now hopping about on the stone terrace outside of their room quietly muttering to itself, having finished off the last of their breakfast tray. Fili and Frerin bent over, foreheads touching, like two worried dwarflings as they read the words in Inanda’s elegant script:

My most beloved Frerin, I am saddened to read your homecoming is to be delayed. I can only say how relieved we are to know you are only held over in Dale, and not come to some harm or misadventure. Kili and I will have only each other’s company until your return. We shall try to be good. Your Ûrzudel, Inanda.

And underneath that in Kili’s careful printing was:

Fili Ukrad, we miss you so much and hope you come home soon. Inanda and I are friends now and she is teaching me things. Please come back soon, Kili.

Zacharia stopped his work to read over their shoulders. “You are fucked.”

Fili sat up and glared at him. “Thank you for that.”

Frerin nodded without looking up. “I agree, we are fucked.”

“Because they are friends?” asked Paavo from his bed.

“Because we have lost all control over the situation,” Frerin waved the parchment at him. “See this? They wrote their letters on the same piece of parchment. That means they did it together.”

Oin chuckled where he was reading by the window. “You two are outnumbered.”

“How are they friends?” Fili asked his cousin in desperation. “When did this happen?”

“I don’t know!” Frerin glared at the parchment. “When they were doing… Omega... things?”

Paavo laughed. “But isn’t that a good thing?”

“No!” The two blonds stated together.

[withywindleswriting]

[withywindlesdaughter]

Okay - so I like discovered an error that runs all the way through “Darkness” and now I need to decide how to fix it.

Writing is hard!

[withywindlesdaughter]

I have all this backstory and exposition to write but really I just want to write porn 

[withywindleswriting]

A Long & Quiet Darkness - “The Towers of the Sun” 

[withywindleswriting]

A Long & Quiet Darkness

“The Towers of the Sun”

Chapter 23

They were led through the trees, having to dismount and lead their ponies through the trees. The others were camped in a clearing not far from a small stream. They saw to their ponies and then threw down their bedrolls next to each other. Dwalin dug through their packs for smoked meat and cram while Nori went to inspect the prisoners.

They were bound and gagged and tied around the base of a large tree. He found them to be ragged and tired-looking, no doubt having been marched with prejudice along the road by the members of the patrol. Of the four of them, only one would look him in the eye. He knelt down in front of that Dwarf and spoke to him. “I don’t know who you are, but I know your kind and I think you know mine.” He opened his hand to reveal a triangular steel dagger the size of his palm. He started rolling it through his fingers like a coin, the firelight dancing off of it in the darkness. The prisoner’s eyes followed it. “We are going to have a lot to talk about, you and I. You tell me what I want to know, the quicker you hang. You lie to me...” The blade paused in its journey. “Well, that’s a much longer talk.”

The prisoner’s eyes looked up and past him as a large hand clasped his shoulder. Maybe it was the well-built knuckle-dusters adorning that hand, maybe it was the fierce-looking Dwarf it belonged to, but Nori watched as beads of sweat started rolling down the other Dwarf’s forehead.

“Come away now,” Dwalin said. “You’ll have playtime later.”

Nori followed him back to the fire to eat. They were fresh from the road so they volunteered to take first watch so the others could sleep. With the fire banked low and the ponies dozing the night was quiet. They watched from opposite sides of the camp, where they could see each other through the trees. In the long hours Dwalin thought about what was going on in Dale. Lea and Realf had told them about the ambush and the injuries to the others. That was a tough break. Dwalin had pulled enough patrols in his time to know how quickly things could turn to shit. He had even done a few years on Long Patrol beside Thorin. That had put a bug right up Thrain’s ass - to see his son and heir heading out for dangerous territory, not to return for months.

Now he trained the next generation - specifically the heirs to the throne. After his younger son returned to the stone Thrain had refused to allow Thorin to go out on patrol. But it was an unavoidable duty for Fili and Frerin. More like a happy respite, now that he thought about it. Frerin was a smart lad, more than capable of ruling after Thorin. He had a lovely Omega Princess at his side and Nori’s reports left little doubt about the prospect of Dwarflings should they bond. And he had Fili behind him. The entire situation was fuck-assed backwards if you asked him, which nobody did because an argument with Dwalin never ended well.

After about four hours they woke the twins and stretched out on their bedrolls. Nori draped himself in a languid fashion across Dwalin’s left shoulder, causing him to snort with amusement. “Yer gonna fall asleep like that, ain’t ya?”

Nori wiggled down until he was comfortable. “Um-hmmm….”

“My arm’ll fall asleep.” He pulled the blanket up around them.

“Um-hmmm….”

The rest of the night passed uneventfully and Dwalin woke to a mouth full of red hair and a distinct tingling in his left arm. “Yet like a damn cat.”

Nori sniggered. “You like cats!”

“Not when they sleep in my mouth I don’t!”

[withywindleswriting]

Untitled Wolf Story Pt 2

The blond man looked out the window of the wooden two-story farmhouse that he called Home and sighed. Outside in the yard between the house and the barn his son stood halfheartedly moving some gravel around with the spade he was holding, deep in thought. His son with his honey-colored curls and his mother’s blue eyes. He was a good boy - smart, strong, helping around their small farm, good-natured to friend and animal alike. He fit in well here, in this pack, on this land, dark earth in his hands and a dimpled smile on his face. But now he was restless, discontent and for no good reason.

No, he knew the reason. That far-away gaze at the gate down the road. He had been like this since Spring Gathering. He was old enough to take an interest and now he thought of little else. The first to volunteer to run to town or go out on patrol, he had seen someone but who that someone might be he was being uncharacteristically closed mouthed about. His father could only love him and give him his space. He walked downstairs in time to help set out supper on the table, his large extended family stomping in from evening chores, drawn by the smells of food. He watched aside as the young man kicked off his work boots, washed his hands in the vegetable sink on the back porch and came inside to help.

“All the cows get in okay?” he asked.

The younger man nodded. “Everyone’s tucked in for the night.”

On nights they got all the work done early the pack usually sat up playing cards or board games, or, if it were hot, shed their skins and go for a run.

“Going to be a big moon up tonight,” the father mentioned casually. The son looked for a long moment out the kitchen window, then gave a noncommittal shrug and went back to what he was doing.

Supper was Mara’s excellent pot roast with carrots and potatoes, collard greens and home-baked bread, followed up by berry pie. All-in-all a very satisfactory affair. The young man didn’t join in the jovial talk or offer to play cards as he normally would have. Instead he ate steadily and focused on his plate, as if he would find the answer to some unspoken question within. His father caught some of the others casting gentle glances at him, knowing the forces that drove all young hearts in their own time.

When the meal was over and the dishes all washed and put away and the pack settled into their happy routine the man watched his son step out alone onto the back porch, strip off his clothes, change into his true form and slip off into the darkness. A man with brown hair and a gentle smile came up behind him and placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder. “And he’s off.”

The blond man smiled not a little sadly. “And so he is.”

Through the dark landscape a young wolf with tawny fur and light eyes snuffled about the borders of his family's land, looking to see if any of the neighboring packs had been by lately. They often crossed paths, sometimes venturing through each other’s borders on errands or to socialize. The small pack living next to them did not cross over, instead marking their boundary lines with vigor. It was here he had come to search since Spring, when he had caught a glimpse of luminous dark eyes at the Gathering, a young Omega carefully guarded by his family, and found himself tumbling in out of control. He had looked for him in town, on runs to the feed story or to visit Ori at the library, but he remained a ghost, a glimpse, the faint scent of a hunt gone by. It had been a very frustrating two months.

So now here he was again, following the stream that marked the boundary, picking his way through the low-lying scrub, picking up the scent of rabbits long since tucked into their burrows. The moon hung heavy in the sky, casting a lilting, silver glow over everything while the crickets sang their song to the lazy water. He paused to do a little scent marking of his own and finally turned for home, huffing out his disappointment to the breeze when a deep-throated howl made him freeze in his tracks. He stood as if rooted, listening. They were on good terms with all their neighbors, but still, a young wolf out on his own was no match for a rival pack should his appearance turn out to be unwelcome.

Listening intently he could just make out the individual voices rising together from just over the ridge. There was a little deer path leading across the stream and up the slope and for a moment he considered taking it for woven in with those was a voice that sounded just as lonely as he felt. It was the voice of longing and it called to him. He stood as still as the surrounding stones, ears up and eyes searching for signs of movement on the ridgeline - ready to bolt if anyone came across it but secretly hoping that they would.

The other voices faded away and only that one voice carried on, sailing across the darkness it was sung for him and him alone. He was stiff-legged, vibrating, heart leaping about in his chest. The call faded off and then there was silence. Against his better judgement and everything his father had taught him he was compelled to step up and raise his own lonely voice to the wind, singing his song to the stars and the moon in hopes that it would be heard.

And the other voice responded, weaving and dancing across the night, two souls connecting the stars until the moon glowed with their energies until the other voice ceased abruptly. He waited, restrained from running by the scent of many wolves drifting down on the wind. He raised his hopeful voice twice more but no response came. Finally he turned with a sigh and trotted towards home, firmly resolved to return the next night and every night thereafter until the other voice returned.

And up on the ridge a young wolf with dark fur reluctantly followed his pack towards their home. He chanced to glance backwards a few times until his mother trotted up next to him and mouthed him gently. He would return. He did not know how, but he would return.