its 5:23 AM time for some early morning headcanons
• Pony sleeps like an angel, lil snores and her eyes kind of stay open a lil bit and Rin feels blessed she let him sleep over
• Shishida will tell you is bc Rin has really bad night terrors and trusts Pony to bring him to reality quickly
• Setsuna constantly sleeps over with Yui or Kamakiri, Kamakiri more so; you’d think she’d get tired of playing with Kamakiri’s plaster dinosaur figures, but never
• Awase never sleeps. he stays up playing Style Savvy, please dont judge him
• it’s 2:45AM, Kuroiro’s up and getting ice cream from the fridge for his early-morning lactose flagellance
• 2:47AM, Rin walks in for water
• “wait kuroiro arent you lactose intolerant” [incoherent screaming as Kuroiro grabs a handful of ice cream and stuffs it in his mouth]
• Honenuki and Kamakiri both wake up with copious amounts of drool and it sucks bc they keep having to replaced their pillow cases
• Shoda sleeps in a weird position
• its like sitting crosslegged to do a butterfly but leaning forward and resting your head on your feet
• its weird
• Reiko always wakes up at exactly 4AM, which she swears is the doing of an otherworldly being
• turns out she wakes up at 4 to check up on Kuroiro
• lucky that bc Kuroiro’s on the bathroom floor, trembling because of eating ice cream at 2:45AM
• Rin fell asleep next to him, trying to help out a little bit
• Yui is called in, she’s experienced in medical procedures
• “you’ll be okay though, aside from another hour or two of raging stomach cramp, nausea, and possible vomitting, so stay here“
• Monoma wakes up with really bad bedhead and has to use the bathroom
• 5:34AM, bathroom is dark, he walks in, trips over something
• or someONE
• SURPRISE ITS KUROIRO
sometimes i get really messed up thinking about Erebor.
it’s hugely vast - Thorin says there are “halls upon halls beneath the mountain” and i imagine it stretches vertically as well as horizontally, so like lots of levels climbing upwards and downwards and just a HUGE amount of square footage, an entire city (perhaps larger than Minas Tirith) literally carved out of the interior of a mountain
on that note, travel around Erebor must be facilitated by something. what if they use goats or ponies? imagine little carts, coaches, etc., driven by dwarves and transporting dwarves and visitors from point A to B, ex: the residential level is the main level but the market is three levels below - no one wants to haul groceries by hand up miles of stairs/ramps and damn like, who has enough hours in their day for all that walking? draft animals it is then. (for that matter, oxen could also be involved, in which case they would need cows to keep supplying offspring to be turned into oxen, and that means some dwarves could be dairy “farmers”).
which brings us to… what are all these pack animals eating? hay would be easy enough to purchase from Dale or other neighbors but then it needs to be stored. and if there are lots and lots of load-bearing animals needed for everyday life in the mountain (and also for mining operations, lots of material to be hauled there) then that’s a LOT of hay and other feeds needed.
so maybe the dwarves have something akin to a pasture somewhere in the mountain, high up, with an entire exterior wall made of glass or a similar transparent substance that lets sunlight in and creates sort of a giant greenhouse or cold frame, so they can grow grass year round for the ponies and goats and cattle to graze. otherwise hay expenses could be astronomical.
i don’t know. just. Erebor everyday life stuff. fascinating.
There was a shadow in the far-left corner of her eye. He’d been there for as long as she could remember. She’d been trying not to look at him for just as long. She didn’t know what would happen if she looked. She only knew that whenever she came close, she was overwhelmed with a sense of all-consuming dread. The shadow wanted her to look at him, but that only increased her certainty that she shouldn’t.
She knew that he wanted her to look at him because he’d told her. He hadn’t started talking to her until she was twelve.
“I don’t know why you won’t look at me, Princess,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ve been waiting, haven’t I?”
The Princess did not reply. She did not even deign to acknowledge that she’d heard him. She thought that acknowledging him set a bad precedent, and started down a slippery slope toward looking at him. Setting firm boundaries was important.
He was quiet, most of the time. Maybe he thought that if he didn’t say anything, she would forget he was there, and look.
“If I was going to do something bad, wouldn’t I have done it by now?”
When she needed to look to the left, she closed her eyes first, and turned her whole head. The Court thought that it was charming, and looked demure.
“I didn’t need to tell you about that loose step, you know. I could have let you fall. Wouldn’t I have, if I was bad?”
Her sleep was dreamless, and so there could be no shadows.
“You’d be lonely without me. You’ll never know how terrible it is, to be alone.”
She didn’t speak much in crowds, for fear that she’d lose track of whose voice was whose. The Court thought that she was shy.
“You really don’t have anything to cry about. You’re a Princess. Everyone loves you. Doesn’t that make you feel better?”
When she was sixteen, a man who wanted her to marry his son gave her a fairy pony. It could stand in the palm of her hand, with a coat made of moonlight and a mane of sunbeams. Its eyes were all-seeing, and it spoke only truth. She waited until she was alone to try talking to it.
“Is there something in my eye?” she asked.
“No,” it said.
“Are you asking it about me?”
“Do you think there’s something in your eye?” the pony asked.
“I thought there was,” the Princess said, “but it must be in my head.”
“Most important things are,” the pony said, “including your eyes. I’m not actually all-seeing, anyway. I’m just very observant. I’m not sure why he told you that, when it was never going to hold up. You’d think the moonbeams would be enough.”
“So there might be something in my eye, still?” she asked.
“Could be,” the pony said. “You’d be better off asking a witch. I’m just a pony.”
“You’re a very nice pony,” she said.
“Thank you,” it said. “I’m very handsome.”
“You are,” she agreed. “Is his son nice?”
“No,” the pony said. “He says you look like a chipmunk. I think he said it in front of me on purpose. I think he was hoping I’d tell you.”
“I would never say something like that,” the shadow whispered. “I think you’re perfect just the way you are.”
“I know I have buckteeth,” the Princess told the pony, “but I think they add character.”
“They do,” the pony agreed.
“You’re really very pretty,” the shadow whispered.