We were dream fasted. You and I.

hello ! the name’s adam (he/they) & I’m the mun of this blog.

I’m 22, white, trans, and bi. due to life and health in general, activity can fluctuate so this will blog will be more chill than anything, a place to have fun and write!

❝  𝖔𝖍  ,  they’re  true  ,  alright  ⸻  every  bit  of  it  .  i  wasn’t  there  for  all  of  it  …  but  i  saw  the  way  in  which  he  rallied  those  stubborn  spriton  to  take  action  .  you  had  to  be  there  to  believe  it  ,  though  …  naia  tells  me  that  when  they  first  met  ,  he  was  as  unsure  of  himself  as  could  be  ,  ❞  gurjin  explains  ,  and  chuckles  at  his  niece’s  response  in  regards  to  the  atmosphere  .  to  think  ,  this  is  so  normal  to  him  …  and  it’s  been  years  since  he  has  seen  the  drenchen  clan  this  way  ,  the  days  of  war  taking  its  toll  on  their  spirits  in  the  past  .  now  ,  the  swamp  is  alive  with  color  and  music  ,  the  loud  ,  boisterous  laughter  of  various  drenchen  sitting  at  the  tables  of  the  main  hall  jolting  his  own  heart  awake  .

yes  …  this  is  what  sog  should  look  like  …  and  perhaps  with  time  ,  laesid  will  learn  to  embrace  a  full  life  …  but  alas  .  the  life  she  was  trapped  in  all  those  years  ago  was  hardly  a  life  at  all  .  a  quiet  ,  lonely  life  without  the  drenchen  drums  ,  or  the  lively  sups  ,  or  tournaments  ,  or  festivals  …  gurjin  shudders  at  the  thought  .

❝  it  takes  time  to  get  used  to  things  ,  i  mean  …  before  the  war  ,  life  was  always  like  this  ,  ❞  says  gurjin  as  he  scans  the  large  room  ,  the  sound  of  drenchen  drums  drowning  out  any  opportunity  for  him  to  be  heard  by  naia  at  the  head  table  .  their  father  notices  the  wave  of  his  hand  first  ,  waving  back  with  all  of  the  enthusiasm  of  a  grandfather  awaiting  the  company  of  his  son  and  granddaughter  ,  motioning  for  them  to  join  them  .  ❝  i  assure  you  ,  little  lass  …  what  you  call  ‘sup’  was  survival  .  now  that  you  live  with  your  people  ,  you’ll  learn  what  living  truly  is  …  one  step  at  a  time  .  look  ⸻  there’s  your  grandpa  bellanji  over  there  ,  and  maudra  naia  and  amri  …  let’s  join  them  ,  shall  we  ?  ❞  he  inquires  ,  offering  his  hand  for  laesid  to  take  should  she  need  it  .  

he  knows  she  is  not  a  little  childling  anymore  ,  but  gelfling  sups  could  overwhelm  anyone  not  accustomed  to  them  .  for  some  gelfling  still  ,  they  preferred  eating  sup  at  their  own  homes  rather  than  joining  the  sup  around  the  drenchen  hearth  ⸻  and  yet  he  has  known  nothing  but  the  community  sups  since  he  was  a  little  boy  ,  sitting  on  one  side  of  his  mother  and  father  with  naia  ,  pemma  ,  and  eliona  .  it  was  ,  after  all  ,  a  requisite  ⸻  one  that  offered  him  no  choice  .  it  was  tradition  for  the  maudra  and  her  family  to  sit  at  the  head  table  for  every  supper  ,  and  in  doing  so  be  united  with  their  people  .  after  all  ,  if  laesid  is  to  one  day  succeed  naia  ,  then  this  ,  too  is  something  she  must  learn  …

survival. 

   laesid supposes he is right. in this thra, where gelfling thrived and lived without the worry of the ancient and evil skeksis, life was bustling hallways and wrestling in mud pits. it was a song around the hearth and falling asleep on your father’s lap. and yet survival was the life laesid had known, eating whatever smerth-staba deemed safe, cradled in the trunk of a tree rather than familiar warm arms, lulled to comfort by a steady heartbeat.

  gaze falls to the head table — family. it was supposed to be hers. fingers flex but hand lingers at her side, unable to wave back or take the hand offered. what happened if she acknowledged them? what happened if she let herself in and had to learn the pain of loss in the same breath?

❝  𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑  𝖒𝖊  𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙  𝖎𝖙  .  naia  and  i  have  been  trying  to  fatten  him  up  forever  now  ,  but  he  looks  just  as  much  a  stick  -  bug  as  when  i  first  met  him  ,  ❞  says  gurjin  ,  turning  to  lead  the  halfling  childling  down  to  the  main  hall  where  the  drenchen  people  (  and  some  beloved  guests  !  )  would  have  their  sup  .  last  he  checked  ,  the  musicians  were  taking  their  places  ,  and  the  vast  table  was  set  ,  a  separate  one  lavishly  set  for  the  maudra’s  family  and  special  guests  ⸻  speaking  of  kylan  ,  he  and  rian  of  stone  -  in  -  the  -  wood  have  come  from  their  forest  home  to  join  them  .  it  is  sure  to  be  a  wonderful  evening  indeed  !  

❝  he  always  struggles  when  he  comes  here  ,  but  he  never  protests  .  the  people  of  the  plains  are  very  different  from  us  .  nevertheless  ,  naia  has  informed  the  cooks  of  our  spriton  friend’s  …  tastes  ,  ❞  he  says  ,  exchanging  a  smile  and  greeting  or  two  with  the  fellow  drenchen  they  encounter  on  their  way  down  ,  heading  in  the  same  direction  as  them  .  ❝  well  …  are  you  excited  ,  little  laesid  ?  i  can  imagine  this  new  way  of  living  is  a  lot  to  take  in  …  ❞  he  inquires  after  a  spell  or  two  ,  stopping  just  before  the  entrance  to  the  main  hall  .  

   “a stick - bug with a large set of lungs, if the story of his song travelling across all of thra is true.” laesid was not often a sceptic - her research and experiments often fell into the unknown, all with risks and rewards that would not have been believed otherwise, but the idea of a few petals managing to change the tide of the world ... no, it wasn’t scepticism. laesid just couldn’t decide whether it left her in awe or fear at the power of the song and its teller. 

𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃, and so she was a part of it. Jen understands her fears, her worries; if the Crystal failed, her life would wither away as well. Thra would call her back home as it had no life to give. But as Jen gazes at the Crystal, its bright white glow illuminating the chamber, he can’t help but think… If only I could heal her, too… 

He places a comforting hand upon her shoulder, turning her to face him before pulling her close in an embrace, holding her to his chest. 

❝ I hate to see you so broken, u’ua’nath. Is there anything I can do? ❞

  the hug is not entirely unexpected  — kira would have initiated it herself had jen not gotten to it first — but a warmth settles on the gelfling’s chest all the same, arms moving to wind around the other’s waist. long ears twist in concentration, searching for jen’s heartbeat. slow, steady. it was a comfort.

𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖏𝖎𝖓’𝖘  𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙  𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖙  is  to  chuckle  and  shake  his  head  .  he  opens  his  mouth  ,  and  says  :  ❝  the  only  way  you’ll  learn  this  is  by  being  a  part  of  it  .  ❞  but  the  moment  those  words  leave  his  mouth  ,  he  realizes  how  hypocritical  they  feel  coming  from  him  .  after  all  ,  past  the  comforts  of  that  first  greeting  and  reunion  with  kira  ,  he  has  hardly  said  anything  to  her  .  what  could  he  say  ,  when  the  ones  who  had  raised  her  as  a  childling  were  there  to  greet  her  ?  even  he  could  see  that  he  heart  was  more  comforted  by  their  presence  than  his  own  .

and  so  he  ,  too  ,  watches  .  wishes  .  does  kylan  feel  this  same  way  ,  he  wonders  ?  does  rian  ?  well  …  he  supposes  the  mystics  are  long  gone  now  .  if  they  were  still  around  ,  would  jen  too  prefer  their  familiar  love  ?  after  all  ,  for  all  of  these  twenty  trine  ,  he  has  known  only  their  presence  ,  his  and  kira’s  own  families  existing  only  in  story  ,  no  different  than  jarra  -  jen  .  they  could  never  comprehend  the  depths  of  the  fallen’s  suffering  ⸻  not  the  suffering  they  endured  under  the  garthim  or  the  skeksis  ,  but  the  suffering  under  the  cruelty  of  time  ;  of  absence  .  they  could  never  make  up  for  those  twenty  trine  .  he  can  tell  ,  even  with  kylan  ,  rian  ,  and  jen  ⸻  that  they  are  meeting  each  other  for  the  first  time  .

no  different  than  mere  friends  .

gurjin  takes  in  a  deep  breath  .  for  a  moment  ,  he  had  forgotten  how  to  breathe  ,  having  steeped  himself  so  deep  in  thought  .

❝  listen  …  i  know  the  feeling  .  i  should  be  happy  ,  seeing  kira  again  …  but  i’m  not  .  ❞

    “you didn’t know her.” the statement is just that, a fact spoken. there is no cruelty or admonishment — only a clear understanding. those that should be their family lingered in the hall below. they were not strangers, no, but laesid could not claim to know enough about them to consider them friends. but what was a friend to the gelfling? laesid had befriended the bugs, had spent hours tucked into the dark roots of a monster’s tree that no longer existed. a monster tree the ancient gelfling hated. “you didn’t have time to feel beyond indifference.”

                           @thraborn​​ ⸻ plotted starter . 

𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕  ,  𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖋𝖚𝖑  𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖍  from  his  nostrils  as  gaze  catches  the  familiar  ,  if  not  pitiful  sight  of  young  laesid  in  the  distance  ⸻  and  yet  an  understanding  surfaces  from  seemingly  still  waters  ,  disturbing  them  in  ripples  that  grow  bigger  and  bigger  until  the  atmosphere  is  thick  with  discomfort  .  he  knows  .  he  knows  that  today  is  supposed  to  be  a  day  for  celebration  .  it  is  their  first  time  in  sog  …  well  ,  the  old  folk’s  (  or  the  ancient  one’s  ,  as  jen  and  kira  called  them  )  first  time  back  in  their  home  .  he  knows  that  this  is  not  it  is  easier  said  than  done  when  his  eyes  scan  over  his  surroundings  and  everywhere  ,  there  is  knowing  ,  and  familiarity  .

kylan  sits  with  jen  at  the  glenfoot  ,  grinning  from  ear  to  ear  as  he  teaches  his  struggling  kin  how  to  play  the  lute  .  rian  sits  but  a  pace  away  ,  carving  a  few  gelfling  -  shaped  figures  out  of  wood  .  kira  is  engrossed  in  a  conversation  with  her  podling  family  in  a  language  he  has  never  made  heads  or  tails  of  .  ever  since  they  reunited  ,  there  was  so  much  more  to  say  between  them  than  what  she  could  ever  say  to  him  ⸻  her  own  father  .  seladon  doesn’t  talk  about  it  ,  of  course  .  it’s  so  very  like  her  to  pretend  nothing  gets  to  her  ,  but  he  guarantees  that  if  he  opened  his  mouth  and  gave  voice  to  what  they  both  felt  ,  she  too  would  overflow  .

gurjin  purposely  makes  his  way  up  to  one  of  the  branches  of  smerth  -  staba  ,  the  very  same  laesid  occupies  ,  and  sits  for  a  moment  in  silence  that  spans  a  few  seconds  before  he  finally  finds  his  voice  ,  his  hands  folded  together  upon  his  lap  .

❝  what  are  you  doing  up  here  on  your  own  ,  little  lass  ?  you  know  that  if  you  merely  spectate  life  ,  it  will  pass  by  without  you  .  ❞

FAMILY.

laesid had never given the topic much thought — there had been no reason to. smerth-staba had always been her protector, the thick-yet-hollow trunk and curling branches providing laesid shelter and safety from the dangers that lurked in the bog and beyond. but family was different now that the ancient gelfling had returned. it was groups of gelfling giving hugs to their loved ones, sharing meals and shedding tears, speaking words too fast for laesid to understand. it was jen playing a lute with his father. it was kira scooping up a podling in her arms. it was naia and amri ( laesid’s very own mother and father ) trying their best despite being swept away by the gelfling that needed their comfort.

it was laesid feeling lonelier, longing, more than she ever had before the gelfling returned.

aster  / vapran / 21 / she, they / bisexual / born and raised on the edges of ha'rar, aster came from a hard-working farmer family. and as much as she loved farming, the gelfling truly came to life during the coldest winter days when the lakes would freeze and she could glide over the surfaces, pretending to be one of the fancy, upper-class vapran that had the free time to skate the day away. aster's passions lead her, over the course of a few years, in learning the art of shoe and ice-skate making before becoming a sought-after ice-skate maker in ha'rar.

during the war efforts, aster joins the gelfling forces by making clothing & armour supplies, working under an experienced and talented craftsman.

.....

GURJIN  ALL  BUT  PHYSICALLYrecoils  at  the  response  .

❝  two  days  ?  ❞  he  echoes  ,  yellow  eyes  wide  with  surprise  .  ❝  please  tell  me  you’ve  been  taking  care  of  yourself  in  between  practice  …  you  know  what  expending  so  much  energy  into  vliyaya  does  to  a  gelfling  ,  right  ?  ❞  he  inquires  ,  more  concerned  uncle  than  a  chastising  one  in  this  case  .  after  all  ,  he  is  quite  proud  that  she  has  taken  the  initiative  to  teach  herself  such  a  difficult  skill  …  he  has  been  practicing  since  he  was  a  childling  ,  and  he  is  still  not  at  the  level  of  skill  he  could  be  …  but  alas  .  life  has  gotten  so  busy  as  of  late  ,  what  with  the  restoration  of  thra  ,  and  gelfling  society  as  a  whole  .

❝  well  …  i  have  complete  faith  that  you’ll  get  the  hang  of  it  .  buuut  …  don’t  tell  me  you’re  willing  to  skip  out  on  some  tasty  sup  just  to  sneak  some  more  practice  in  .  i’ll  drag  you  down  to  the  dining  table  like  uncle  kylan  if  i  have  to  .  ❞

    OF COURSE laesid knew what expending a large amount of vliyaya did to a gelfling — it was hardly her first time delving into magical practises. she had inherited healing vilyaya from her mother ( and all the drenchen mothers that had become for her ) and a deep connection to thra, something that had allowed laesid to communicate with smerth-staba all her life. the tree was as much a mother to her as anyone could be.