#lady archivist

From a distance, Aihren could see Ruby. The gesture is very sweet, and they returned it without thinking about it too much at first, as they were prone to do (the lack of thinking that is). But then...

Three???

Folklore Prompts II Accepting

Send 🌋 and my muse will blurt out the first thing that comes to mind when they see your muse | Accepting

Ruby's hand made contact with Aihren's rear and it bounced back, as expected. They felt their face flush, and they bit their bottom lip to suppress a grin.

Seven days ago Galahad only knew he must have a father, out there somewhere living abstractly. His aunt had announced he would be coming in the blunt, cold way she might have commented on a sister’s dirty hem or novice’s unwashed hands. 

Galahad waited three days for his father’s arrival, wondering if he’d shine like the sun or the moon and counted what he knew of him on his fingers. He was a notorious pagan raised by demons underwater. He loved the High King and High Queen to excess. He was the worse kind of braggart who could always prove his own boasting. 

But he did not shine when he came. They looked alike but the great Sir Lancelot never looked him in the eye. But he did speak. He told Galahad he had not come to keep him. He told him of the Old Ways, how he’d been raised on Avalon and Tailtiu’s courts there. The Seelie and Unseelie in the North, the Tylwyth Teg, Aos sí until Galahad’s head swam with all the branching courts that made up the Fair Folk. Most of all his father told him stories. Stories of his mother’s people on Avalon and the court of Camelot. 

And while he still didn’t look him in the eye on the last day he told him to remember the stories, for the druids on Avalon had taught him and knew for a truth that every race from ants to gods fed upon story in some way or shape. But the fair folk most of all. This was all Lancelot explained he felt he could give his son for now. For he had been raised a good Celt and had wanted to do fulfill his obligations and acknowledge his son even if he couldn’t love him. For that much at least he was sorry, so terribly sorry but he hoped someday Galahad would understand why. Then he told him to not be afraid and was gone. 

Do not be afraid. And he wasn’t, not of the castle. But in the shadows of that strange castle he saw something move. Do not be afraid. But as she came into the light he was afraid. 

stop right there! this is the good writer gecko! I've come today to alert you that you're a skilled writer, and you may not know it. Keep an eye out for those nice sentences you've made, citizen. We don't want you missing out. That's all, carry on.