#!!!! them

There is a small shop that sells all sorts of clothing from second-hand, over self made right down to newly bought by the shop (usually because someone ordered it). One day, Jon wants to buy Martin some new gloves because he kept complaining about his hands being too cold when going on walks, and while he finds a good pair, he also sees a skirt.

It’s made from incredibly soft sheep-wool and seems to be hand-knitted, having some light patterns in different shades of browns. Jon stares at it until the shopkeeper asks him if he wants to buy it (and she has a pair of stockings that would look lovely with it, just give me a a minute and I will get them for you, dear), and he says yes.

... @rubyfall​  !

a  moment  of  unequivocal  realization,      like  those  lucie  has  read  of  in  all  the  stories  she  loves  most:       the  part  when  the  heroine  gives  herself  pause  to  recognize  the  feelings  she  has  long  repressed  over  her  dashingly  complex  lover.         it  is  a  time  for  the  pen  to  endow  romantic  fantasy  and  dismay  in  simultaneous  grandeur,       with  a  hint  of  future  resolution  that  shall  only  come  once  all  is  explained  as  it  ought;       as  two  people  equally  confused  that  have  stored  all  their  hopes  in  one  another  must  feel,       for  in  feeling  they  are  justified  of  bitterness  and  betrayal.         in  stories  there  is  hope,       in  poems  there  is  resolution:         but  in  reality  these  events  are  difficult  to  parse,       an  inextricable  mire  of  loyalties  and  disappointments.

this  is  what  lucie  discovers  as  cordelia  tucks  into  herself  in  a  chair  by  the  fire,       its  upholstery  comforting  in  the  orange  glow,       a  familiar  damas  pattern  lucie’s  eyes  traced  in  childhood,         retired  into  her  mother’s  old  room  and  now  befitting  her  intended  parabatai  to  reside  in.         (  daisy  will  always  have  a  home  among  them,         as  her  father  has  said  the  carstairs  shall  have  always  with  the  herondales.  )      cordelia  clutches  a  handkerchief  with  the  initials  c.h.  which  lucie  herself  embroidered  in  a  dainty  and  delicate  script;       a  wedding  present  that  seemed  morbid  at  the  time,       which  regrettably  has  served  her  friend  well  tonight.         i  ought  not  to  have  prophesied  such  a  thing,       she  thinks,       guilt-tinged  and  grieving.         as  though  i  wove  tears  into  the  tapestry  of  her  fate  and  its  sorrows.

THEM!!!!