sentinel pine

I’ll Be Good - Part 1

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 2

Summary: You’re an old colleague of Natasha’s who finds herself face to face with the Winter Soldier on the wrong end of an Avengers’ op.

Warnings: swearing (honestly shocked I haven’t sworn already), mild violence

Word count: 1700 (is it lucky that my first post is 1700 even?!)

Author’s Note: I have had a spectacularly awful day and have decided that I might as well let my b.barnes tumblr go down with the ship. So I’m posting my first ever attempt at a fic. I have written 3 parts and stared at them with trepidation for a week. Pt 3 is my fav., so I’ll post at least that much unless you all tell me there are enough self-indulgent non-writers out there and I need to stop now.

Tags: is this a joke? why the hell do I even have a tags section? I can’t believe I’m doing this…
@marvelatmytrash because you’re a lovely human being an Imma need your encouragement (or to gently put me out of my misery)
@thedragonblood because you once posted for your followers to tag you and I’m sorry, be careful what you wish for.

Here goes…


This was a pretty simple mission. The interrogation last week had been fruitful and the small team were now en route to the drop off site. It was an illegal weapons trade, their goal was to stop it and capture the leaders. They had the most adept team available and it should have been simple – Clint was pilot and as usual the tactical eyes in the field. Bucky and Nat would take out the security, clearing a path for Steve to apprehend the organizers. Routine.

They landed in a heavily wooded area a mile from the site of the deal. The four of them left the jet and started making their way in when a long-range shot skimmed a nearby tree. As the team ducked for cover, Natasha examined the fresh wound on her left arm just inches above a very similar scar she had obtained a few years earlier. “Shit,” she mumbled thinking If that was Y/N, that was a warning shot, and Y/N won’t be so generous with the rest of my team.

Keep reading


lady moon, master bowman, tipped in darkness

held

         a sad wind settles in the body

pale with winter-meet,

                             wetpine, riverflesh, birdvoice

who is this beside me? the moon, the moon,

the wounded heart of riders, the dark curl of

their tenderhooves


I wane, 

touched by the tenderness of wildflowers,

the sentinel sigh of pines  


hunting, birth, a darker death


there helen lingers in the fields with the rhetoric

of a wildbird, the burr of a lathe  


the nocturnal penance of a dove

voice of herbs & sugar


meanwhile, hounds howl, whole with horizon,

preying far from the river-road


where darkly dressed figures scavenge for stars

amongst the legacy of empty heaven


such saffron, such moonflower

such mother-sick bittersweet wetness


(arrow of my wound)

                                      (another partition)

(lily ash) (bell-jar)

                                    (angle of descent)


my words are sick and must be fed to

                                                   the owls

Arya and forest symbolism

I love how various elements of nature are often connected to Arya. Water, earth, moon and acorns are some of the said elements of nature that symbolises life, adaptability, feminity,fertility, change and strength in Arya’s storyline. Now apart from these things, there is one other element of nature that I think is equally important in Arya’s storyline. And that element is forest. So in this post I’ll make an attempt to focus on the symbolism of forest.

At Harrenhal, we see Arya finding reprieve in the godswood. She loves the smell of pine and sentinels and the feeling of grass under her feet. Now the Godswood at winterfell is described as dark and primal, and we know that the one at Harrenhal is even larger than the one at winterfell, so it can be imagined as a small forest within the castle grounds. Here Arya practises her waterdancing among the trees and sometimes she climbs up these trees and ‘dances’ in the kingdom of leaves.Also we have seen Arya spent most her time in ACoK and in ASoS travelling through forests.

Further, I would like to point out these lines from the featherbed song:

Tom winked at her as he sang “ And how she smiled and how she laughed, the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him, no featherbed for me .”

Here it feels as if Tom is referring to Arya as ’ the maiden of the tree’ or as the ’ forest lass’ and finally when she warges into Nymeria, we find her roaming through the woods of Riverland with a huge pack of wolves.

Now in literature 'forest’ can take various symbolisms. As vegetable life thrives in forest, it is often seen as a mother figure. It provides shelter to the animal kingdom and livelihood to man. It is in close relation with the Earth and is said to provide protection to those who need it. In druid mythology the forest is said to be offered to the Sun as a bride and so here it is viewed as a young maiden. It also symbolises mystery, danger, darkness, wildness, sensuality and depth of emotions.

In Arya’s storyline the forest mostly provides protection. Like think about it: Nymeria seeks refuge in the woods after being told to run away by her mistress. Arya herself travels through them to prevent detection and the BwB lurks in the woods to hide from Lannister soldeirs. And does this aspect of the forest not tie up beautifully with Arya’s personality? Arya provides food for her pack. She is often seen to offer the shelter of winterfell to her friends. She also tries to protect them from harm. The forest also acts as a contrast to the comforts of home . And a major part of Arya’s storyline is about finding her way back home.

Now I don’t know if I’m right or wrong but I really find this to be very interesting.

where woodsmoke daubs night’s 
swollen joints,

torchglint goes lewd with halo
and fox shrinks back to past’s bramble

what moon has drained the blood
of your cheek?

ringed in the sentinels of pine and
willow ,
                 inescapable voice

clinging with bloodroot and asylum

my suffering shames me ,
poisonous abjection
                              unerring arrow

what can you keep of the past but this?

we prepare the field, bedlam fair and
lunar-mouthed

blackbird’s beats bloodwing, the mouth
of beloved
                 cannot be forgotten

the soul enters

here in the silver, wintering itself

dusk pools over
             slumen, doze, slumber

for it was just her hands,

angel
                                     to angel

which first held me