silent mountain

The flower from the logo!

Found in Hyrule Ridge on Satori Mountain, near the Mogg Latan Shrine – look for a small pond with a cherry blossom tree. 🌸

The two had been traveling together for almost four years.  The bitter sandwing had warmed up to Citrus.  Citrus’s curiosity towards Mamba had blossomed into a love.  They were both very close now, they knew each other’s stories.  They knew what the other had gone through and why they acted the way they did.  They climbed to the top of the mountain silently, just in time for a beautiful sunset.  Mamba gazed at the cloudless sky and unfurled her wings.  Citrus started to turn pink (a color of happiness and love for rainwings).  Mamba looked her in the eyes and smiled a bit.  Citrus scooted a bit closer.   “I think i’m in love with you,” Mamba whispered in her deep, raspy voice.  “Yeah me too,” Citrus replied.  This wasn’t going as she pictured, but she was still happy.  Mamba wrapped a wing around her and pulled her closer.  “Wow, that was such a romantic reply,” Mamba chuckled.  Citrus elbowed her in the chest.  “Shut up I’ve never done this before.”  Mamba laughed and leaned into her.  They watched the last bits of the sunset together and forgot about the rest of the world.

Certain as the Sun VIII


~The next part will be more interesting, I promise~

I called out, again and again into that deep, dark void but was still being met with nothing. Nothing but silence. Feyre had closed herself off, had shut down completely. I couldn’t get a read on her emotions or thoughts no matter how hard I tried.

I lifted my head to look at her, but she wasn’t there. In a panic, my eyes searched all around the bed and when they didn’t find her there, they frantically searched the room. Cassian was gone, the guards were gone, the only person that remained was Tamlin. He was stood with his back to me, his arms crossed behind his back. He looked perfectly at ease as he studied something upon the wall.

“Where is she?” I rasped. “Where the hell is she, Tamlin?”

I waited for an answer, but it appeared he wouldn’t give me one. The only thing he did was turn to me, stepping slightly to the side so that I could see what it was that had captured his attention on that wall.

What I saw made me want to vomit.

It was Feyre, beaten and broken, deep purple bruises and flaming red cuts along every inch of her naked body. Her hair was matted and tangled, her body limp—

She was dead. The realization hit me so thoroughly, I actually jumped back as if someone had struck me. That was why her eyes looked so lifeless, why her neck was bent at such an odd angle, why she was missing certain limbs. With the realization came the reality that I had not seen at first glance.

Feyre?

This time I noticed the difference when I called out to her. There was no void, no darkness, no silence, just…nothing. Nothing.

I looked to Tamlin, whose face was like stone. As if the sight before him did not stir his soul at all. “This is what should have happened to her in the beginning, Rhysand,” he said calmly, “Clare Beddor should still be alive and well. The girl did nothing. Nothing at all to deserve what happened to her. It should have been Feyre who was beaten and bruised and broken so, so thoroughly. The two of you should never have even had the chance to begin whatever relationship you had. It seems only right that Feyre finally pay what was owed.”

Many nights had I sat up and pondered what would happen should Feyre die and I still live somehow. The thought was ludicrous because I had already vowed that I would do anything, anything to prevent that from happening, even if it meant laying down my life, my Court, everything I owned. Mor and Cassian believed that my response would be to pillage and kill and wreak havoc like hell’s never seen. At the time, I had agreed with them. But when the question came to Amren and Azriel, they’d both looked at me with eyes I couldn’t quite understand and said, “No. I don’t believe you will be angry, Rhysand. I think you will be too empty to feel anything else.” At the time, I’d disagreed and been quite repulsed that they’d think my immediate reaction would not be to avenge my mate.

But sitting there, on that bed, looking at my mate’s dead, broken body…they were right. I felt nothing. I was nothing. They had been right, for I was so overflowing with that emptiness that I could feel nothing else.

I am nothing. Feyre is dead. My mate is dead. I am nothingIamnothingnothingnothing…

……………………………………………

I woke up drenched in sweat, unable to take in a full breath to calm myself down. The covers that now felt like hands smothering me, strangling me, were quickly kicked off the bed, and my eyes roamed around the room—Feyre’s room— for any sign of her, but finding none.

Where are you where are you where are you?

Without a second thought I jumped out of the bed and proceeded to search every single square inch of the house for her. She had been here, hadn’t she? This was where she belonged, where she wanted to be. Here, in Velaris. Home. Why wasn’t she home?

Panic held me in its icy grip, and the thought struck that perhaps I hadn’t awaken from a dream, but a vision…a warning of what was to come…

My wings tucked in tight, I rushed to the nearest balcony, not taking even a heartbeat to consider before plunging off the edge.

☽ Feyre ☾

I had barely dozed off to sleep, Tamlin’s breathing having evened out long ago when I felt an emotion so earth-shattering, I sat straight up in the bed.

Pain, and agony, and despair, as if all hope had been lost. No hope for salvation.

Rhysand.

“Feyre?” Tamlin’s voice cut through the night. My heart like a steady drum in my chest, my palms sweating, and all I knew was that I shouldn’t be here, here in this bed with this man who was not my mate, whom I did not love. I should not be in this house that was not my home, surrounded by people who did not seem to care whether I lived or withered away into nothing.

“I’m fine,” I rasped, “Just another nightmare.”

Feyre?

“I’m going to go get some fresh air.” I left a quick kiss to Tamlin’s cheek, my dinner threatening to make a sudden reappearance as I left the bedroom, walking down the hall and out those front doors to the flower garden that took up much of the Spring Court grounds.

The night was quiet, crisp, cool. I looked up, and the stars seemed to simmer  and glistening in time with the deafening panic that could only have come from Rhysand. From my mate.

I reached out for his mind, so, so many miles away and came face to face with a solid, impenetrable wall. His mind was completely closed off to me, and hard as I tried I could not get him to open up even just a window for me to reach him.

I decided to change tactics. Brute force was obviously getting me nowhere. So I trailed a comforting hand down that wall, emitting night and shadows and stardust, became the lights that shone proudly in Velaris, the citrus scent that was him

Rhys, it’s me. It’s Feyre.

And it was as if those words had unlocked some piece of him that would always be tied to me. One by one, bricks from that impenetrable wall began to crumble and fall, slowly, so slowly until there was an path large enough for me to slip into his mind.

Snow-capped mountains and bright stars were so close, I felt I could reach out and touch them. I looked down, my eyes—Rhys’ eyes— sweeping back and forth, searching desperately for something.

It took a moment to process that I was seeing what he was seeing, that I was not only in his mind, but I had become him.

Where is she? Where is she? She has to be here. She has to be—

And then I realized that what I was looking at came from an aerial view. Rhys was flying, soaring above Velaris, above my home. But he was headed out, away from the city. To the south. As if…

No…no he wouldn’t possibly do something like that.

Rhysand wouldn’t fly to the Spring Court to retrieve me, risking everything—his home, his court, his family, his life, for me…right?

I didn’t want to believe it, and yet I was looking at the proof. Rhysand was flying like a bat out of hell towards the Spring Court, not risking winnowing in case they’d still be able to track him.

I knew I had to stop him before he made it too far, before he made a potentially fatal mistake.

Rhysand.

He faltered, nearly stopping dead at the suddenness of my voice.

Feyre?

Yes. What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?

I had to get him to come to his senses. He couldn’t form one coherent thought amongst the panic.

Where are you?

Still tucked safely away in the Spring Court. Where else would I possibly be?

There was silence for a few moments, and I watched as he flanked right, headed towards a cliff that jutted from the side of a mountain. Silently, he landed, eyes sweeping back and forth over the endless mountain range before he said, Are you hurt?

No. I promise, I’m okay.

A gush of earth-shattering relief. A few moments of silence.

It was just a nightmare, then.

What was?

Another brick slid away from that black, impenetrable wall, inviting me in. I made sure I was still tethered to myself, that I could find my way back before I was swept away into his mind.

Flashes of memory came at me, so fleeting I could hardly understand them.

There was Rhys and Cassian standing in Tamlin’s study, the three of them holding a conversation. Then me, sweeping into the room and kissing Tamlin soundly as Rhys and Cas were forced to stand by and watch. One moment I was standing beside Tamlin like another pretty piece of his furniture, the next I was on my knees, guards surrounding me.

More words passed between them, and that was where the flashes became more patchy, though every detail vivid.

Me being whipped and beaten, then forced to sit on a bed. Rhysand and Cassian distraught at whatever ultimatum Tamlin had given them. And the most disturbing thing was Tamlin looking utterly pleased at the pain and agony on their faces.

The next part was so stomach-churning, I nearly had to tell him to stop. But I felt a whispered caress, a steadying touch.

I watch in horror as Rhys walks over to the bed, undressing himself fully before joining me on it. Through his eyes I see my face, tears slowly dripping off my chin, blood dribbling from my split lip, and the scars on my back from the whipping…

And yet it was as if Rhysand did not see any of it—or saw it, and did not care, for he worshipped my body despite all of the scars.

Everything goes black for a half heartbeat, and then Rhysand is searching for me. He looks over to where Tamlin is standing, stepping aside to reveal my mutilated, lifeless body.

Rhysand…

You’re truly fine? You’re not hurt?

No. I swear I’m okay.

I miss you.

The longing in his voice was enough to make me seriously consider returning to the Night Court now —damning Tamlin and the King of Hybern and anything that has to do with them— just so I could return to his side.

I will return soon. I swear it.

Good. I will be able to rest much easier knowing you’re here and not in the damned Spring Court. Although I’m sure, Feyre, darling, you’re making all their lives quite the living hell.

He chuckled, and I’d give anything to ensure that I’d hear it again.

Hmm. You know, I do have quite a gift for it.

Yes. One of your many talents.

I laughed. One of many? I don’t quite know if I agree, but I do believe I have one talent that stands out amongst the rest.

A raised brow. Oh?

I said nothing, only sent an image that I knew would send his blood boiling.

Perhaps it will make my absence a bit less unbearable if I promise to reenact that little image?

On the contrary, I think it has only convinced me that I do, indeed, need to take a visit to the Spring Court.

My eyes flew heavenward. You wouldn’t dare.

A wicked smile. For the chance of you putting that pretty little mouth on me, I just might.

Go to bed, Rhysand.

He chuckled again, one that sent my toes curling.

And then a soft, midnight-kissed breeze swept through, lifting my thin nightgown and whispering against my skin, setting every inch of me on fire.

Goodnight, Feyre.

I growled. Insufferable bastard.

His only response was a quiet, wicked laugh.

I returned to the bedroom, furious at that phantom wind that Rhysand had no doubt sent as payment for the naughty image I’d sent him.

I slipped silently beneath the covers, my blood still roaring in my veins.But try as valiantly as I might, I could not stop the longing in my chest for a place of lavender-kissed winds and star-filled skies.

Powerful - Jaime Lannister (Part Two)

After losing his children, his family, he couldn’t lose you. However, leaving with you also meant angering an already testy Queen. Cersei had turned vile with her new found power; her heart tormented by the same loss that plagued Jaime himself. Whatever path he chose lead to danger; but whatever path he chose also shone with the hope of possible love.

Part One

Originally posted by diver5ion

The halls of the Red Keep had become all too familiar to Jaime’s eyes. He longed to ride West, with you beside him, and pay a visit to Casterly Rock. After all that had happened, Jaime thought he deserved a rest from the horrid politics of King’s Landing. Let Qyburn aid his sister in the trying times to come while he returned home.

Jaime’s desire to go home was soon replaced by a different want. He looked up at The Mountain, who stood outside Cersei’s door. From the open spots for his field of vision, the pale purple skin surrounding the late Gregor’s blood shot eyes was visible. Under the creature’s gaze, Jaime tried his best to seem unintimidated.

“I wish to see my sister,” Jaime said strongly. Silently, The Mountain moved away from the door and let Jaime push through. As he glanced around the room, Jaime saw no sign of his beloved sister anywhere. Papers were scattered on her desk; letters and pleads alike. Jaime looked over his shoulder briefly, his eyes landing on The Mountain, who loomed in the doorway.

Turning away from the desk, Jaime walked out towards the balcony. He stood in the entrance when he saw his sister looking out to where the Great Sept of Baelor once stood. A chill ran down his spine at Cersei’s reflective silence. Burn them all, the Mad King had said. His long lasting order had finally come to fruition.

“All of our enemies,” she whispered, “gone in one spark.” Jaime shook his head and Cersei turned to face him. Her green eyes were serious, yet joyful all at once. “The Targaryen girl will fall. She is young and foolish. As mad as her father if she thinks she can walked into a lion’s den unscathed.” Jaime smiled at his sister’s ferocity, but knew that The Last Dragon still posed a threat to Cersei’s new found power.

“She has the backing of House Tyrell and the whole of Dorne. Does that not frighten you in the least?” Cersei stiffened at his words, holding her chin high. Jaime looked her dead in the eye, waiting for her answer. A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ would tell him more than a lengthy conversation. His sister’s eyes narrowed at him, as if challenging him.

“They are no threat to us,” she said coldly. Jaime’s blood ran cold. Cersei without fear was perhaps more dangerous than when she was cornered. It was the Mad King, the man Jaime killed, that feared nothing. That fought and killed without thought of the price.

“No threat to you,” Jaime corrected. “What of the North, the Stark bastard doesn’t frighten you?” Cersei stepped towards him, her face a mere inches from his own. Jaime clenched his jaw, fighting against the closeness.

“All the Knights in the Vale don’t scare me,” Cersei hissed. “For I am the Queen of The Seven Kingdoms. I have nothing to fear.” She leaned closer, reaching a hand up to trace his jaw. Before she could place her lips on his, Jaime backed away.

“A ruler that acts without fear is no leader at all. Aerys feared only the voices in his head.” Cersei’s gaze enflamed at his words. Jaime had only seen such angry in her eyes when Tyrion was on trial for Joffrey’s murder and when he aided in his little brother’s escape. Her hate had turned her inside out and dressed her in darkness.

“How dare you speak to your Queen, your sister, like that.” Jaime frowned but didn’t move any further. Silence fell over them, neither of them wavering.

“How dare you speak to Y/N as you did,” Jaime countered. “She has been loyal to our family for ages. She mourned our children at our your sides, mourned our father. Despite it all, you treat her like she’s nothing to us.”

“She’s nothing to me,” Cersei seethed, “it is you she cared for, not I.” Jaime let out a breath, knowing Cersei’s words were true. Y/N tolerated his sister, cared for her only to make things easier for herself; not a true friend. Cersei hardly ever had any friends, even as a child.

“She is a trusted ally, nonetheless,” Jaime responded. “To make sure it stays that way, I will be accompanying her to the Westerlands.” Cersei’s nostrils flared with rage at his words; and for the first time, Jaime took pride in her fury.

“Go then,” Cersei spat, ‘go and wed her at Casterly Rock. Bed her and make heirs with a vassal house girl.” Jaime felt his blood boil at her words towards you. He turned away, taking long a long stride towards the door before Cersei called out.

“If you have any love for me, any love for our lost children, you will stay in King’s Landing at my side.” Jaime stopped and turned to glance over his shoulder. His eyes locked with his sister, but he didn’t see the woman he loved. She would be nearing the gates of King’s Landing by now; he had to go if he were to make it in time.

“I loved my children,” Jaime said sadly, “my greatest wish was to be a father to them. But you, and your thirst for power, doomed them before I had the chance.” Cersei swallowed hard, but Jaime continued. “My love for you faded when you murdered the people I was sworn to protect. You killed our son’s wife and he died due to grief. Your hands are just as bloody as my own.” With that, Jaime stormed out of Cersei’s room and down the hall. His gold, Lannister armor clinking as he left Cersei in her dark gown; the desire to be hers fading from his heart.


You gently patted your horse’s neck, it’s soft fur hiding the strong muscle underneath. A few smallfolk filled your cart with armor and swords, for the ranks of men in the West. While this trip was a supply run, it doubled as a diplomatic mission to deal with House Lefford. The Golden Tooth castle was home to the unruly house; they often quarreled with House Lannister despite being under the lion’s boot. The Riverlords still held a fighting spirit.

“She’s a fine beast,” you turned your head and your heart skipped a beat. Jaime stood before you, his head cocked to the side with a soft smile on his features. Your thoughts of the ordeal at hand passed when you met his eyes. You walked up to him, looking up at him earnestly. “I hope that there is some way you can forgive all the times I looked over you. I wanted to tell you that I-”

You silenced him by wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms found a resting place around your waist, holding you close to his larger frame. Jaime buried his face in the crook of your neck, closing his eyes. After a long minute, your arms fell and your hands held the back of his neck. Jaime moved, leaning back to stare into your face.

“I have loved you for years, Jaime,” you whispered. “There is nothing to forgive, nothing at all.” The corner of Jaime’s mouth quirked upwards at your words. “I shouldn’t have made you choose, that was wrong of me.” you had more to say, things you wanted to make clear, but now it was your turn to be silenced. Jaime’s arms tightened around your waist, pulling your body flush against his own. His left hand moved up to your face, his palm brushing against your cheek. The tenderness in his warm touch made you melt.

“A woman should never apologize for being strong, for being powerful.” You smiled up at him and Jaime’s eyes said it all. He brought your face to his, capturing your lips in his. You hummed into kiss, your eyes shutting instinctively. The kiss was all you had dreamed of, the years of imagining what it would be like did not do it justice.

When he parted from your lips, you longed to return back to that moment; but Jaime seemed to have other ideas. He moved his hand back from your face to your middle and lifted you onto your horse. You smiled down at him as rested his hand against your hip.

“We have a long ride ahead us, my lady. We should be going.” You frowned, wishing to kiss him once more but you were high up to reach him. Jaime seemed to note this and grabbed your hand. “Once we reach Casterly Rock, there will be more time for that.”

“Yes there shall.” Jaime grinned at you, bringing your hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of it, a lingering kiss. When he pulled away, there was a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“And as the Lord of Casterly Rock, I will need a true Lady. Perhaps there will be time for a wedding as well.” You felt heat climb to your cheeks, blushing a  deep red. “Would that please you, prove it to you?”

“It would, ser Jaime,” you teased. “Yet, don’t think for a moment I’ll surrender to being simply your wife.” Jaime shook his head with a grin on his lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my darling.” Jaime walked over to his dark stallion, hopping on it’s back. He knead it gently and the horse rode up next to yours. “You join the ranks of the mighty Lannister women and they will hear your roar.”

You smiled and kicked at your horse, sending it forward. You started after the cart of supplies. Soon, Jaime followed suit, happy to be rid of the Red Keep and the dark memories that still cling to the crimson bricks. He glanced over at you, smiling at you; and if he had ever been happy, it would be in that moment he was happiest.

anonymous asked:

Yoooo mind (no pun intended) if you could make an aesthetic bard- I mean, board for a Lord of Void who has interests in pumpkins, drawing, the seaside, caverns, mountains, and dark, silent nights? Thanks in advance!!!

Aesthetic Bard, oh you sly dog anon.

I hope you like it!!

Whatever You Imagine

Pairing/s: Thorin x (human!fem)reader

Setting/Timeline: The Quest to reclaim Erebor

Warning(s)/Genre(s): Fluff

Word Count: 821

The Hobbit, the Durins, and Any of the Company © J.R.R. Tolkien
Context © me

Based on my imagine.

If interested, listen to the song here.

A/N: Again sorry if this is kinda crappy

The Hobbit tag list: @sdavid09, @igotanaddixon, @fizzy-custard, @life-is-righteous, @kittenwritesstuff, @fromthedeskoftheraven

Masterlist: HERE

Originally posted by middleearth2asgard

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood

Part 2 - The Wayfaring Stranger

“Whatever you imagine
Can one day come to be”

You’ve known the song with all your heart, the song of your childhood is what you and your father would call it; the song that taught you how to believe, how to be brave, and how to be courageous. 

“There are dreams to awaken
Roads to be taken
Follow them and they will set you free”
 

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