Thwap Talk

Notes: • Once again, please tell me if it seems choppy or rushed. • This chapter is purely Arthundelle. 😊 • But… things are going to start happening….probably in the next chapter or the one after. • Yes @Rhu (the Iggiest of Feathers), so many things in this chapter are references to The First Breath of Spring. lol I hope you like how I used them and I also hope you don’t mind because otherwise I’d be seriously plagiarizing… • Previous chapter Chapter 4-The Memory Tree Artham shook his head and smiled as his brother rounded a building and went out of sight. He glanced down the street toward the Illing Inn and then toward the ocean. He pulled in the reins and began making his way down the street toward the Inn, but then that nagging nervousness began tugging at him again. He tried to push it away, but it just wouldn’t leave. Groaning in exasperation, he decided to give into it. Turning back, he kicked Shasta into a gallop and retraced his steps, then followed a cobbled path that led off the street and toward Sir Kadru’s manor. After about ten minutes, he was in sight of the manor and saw Esben dismounting and shaking hands with Sir Kadru, then going safely into the house. Artham let out a puff of relief and headed back into town, scolding himself for being so edgy. As he rode back into town, his train of thought returned to where it had been that morning, the council meeting. He shook his head with annoyance, telling himself to just focus on what was happening right now. If there really was a problem, he’d deal with it later. And now, he thought, I have arrived at the Illing Inn. He smiled and reined in his horse, then quietly took Arundelle’s mare from the Inn’s stableyard. He led both horses to the front door, and after a second, knocked loudly and decidedly on the front door. “Yes? Oh, why hello, Artham! Won’t you come in?” Mrs. Illing opened the door and greeted him warmly. Artham smiled and said, “I’d love to, Mrs. Illing, in fact it’s rather hard to refuse that offer because I can smell something wonderful in there,” Someone was running down the stairs. “But can you call Arundelle for me? I would like to steal her for a few hours.” Mrs. Illing laughed and looked at Artham with a knowing twinkle in her eye. “Of course, dear.” She turned into the Inn, but then Arundelle swept down the stairs and called, “I’m here!” She made her way quickly toward the door, meeting Artham’s eyes with a smile that once again awoke that strange, terrifying, delightful feeling in him. She paused by the Mrs. Illing, putting a hand on her elbow and asked, “Do you need me for anything else right now?” “Oh no, dear,” Mrs. Illing said, giving Arundelle a quick hug and shooing her out the door. “You two lovebirds go enjoy the day.” Artham stiffened for a moment and felt his face turn hot, but then laughed a little awkwardly. “Thank you, Mrs. Illing,” he said. Mrs. Illing smiled and closed the door behind her. Artham turned and bowed to Arundelle. “I have come to steal you away, my lady,” he said, kissing her hand with a flourish. She laughed and curtseyed to him with mock seriousness. “I have been waiting all the day long just to be stolen,” she said, letting him help her onto her horse. She paused and turned to Artham, surveying him skeptically with a little smile. “Where are we going, Throne Warden, and how have you escaped your ward?” “To the first question, my dear Arundelle, I can’t tell you because it’s a surprise. To the second, I have disposed of him properly without neglecting my duties.” “What took you so long to get here?” Arundelle asked, tilting her head. Artham grimaced. “I’m sorry I was so late. Let’s just say…I was delayed on the way by a crowd of our friends.” “Oh…” Arundelle laughed sympathetically. “But thankfully it appears you have survived.” They rode together, enjoying the beauty of the sunny, windy winter day until they were almost outside Pennybridge, on a road that led to almost everywhere. “Here is where we stop,” Artham said, helping her gently down and tying both horses to a nearby fence. “Let’s go take a walk on the beach.” They walked side by side in the sandy fields of coarse grass, talking and laughing, occasionally reciting poetry to one another, or when Arundelle broke into song, Artham accompanied the ethereal beauty of her high, sweet, strong voice with his own deep, warm tones. For a while, she slipped her hand into his, setting his heart pounding and his fingertips tingling. After a while, the sandy grass began to be dispersed with black stones and different types of scrub and brush, and Artham realized they were nearly there. He turned and smiled at Arundelle, soaking in every detail of her appearance, the wind blown hair that the sun tinted with red gold, her clear, bright green eyes, her rosy cheeks that seemed to glow above the warm brown of her coat, and her arm curving toward him because of the hand resting in his. He drank in every detail and let it distract him from worrying and fill his heart with joy. “Can you guess where we’re going?” Arundelle gazed around her and then in the direction they were wandering. She laughed. “I think I can, Artham. But why-” “Just wait and see,” he said, interrupting her question. They walked together for a while until the hill dropped off into the ocean in a cliff to their left, and the grassy sand was completely replaced by black boulders and scraggly bushes. “Here’s where you close your eyes,” Artham said, leading her now by both hands. Arundelle closed her eyes and laughed. “Artham, I know where we’re going, why can’t I look?” Now Artham laughed. “Be patient and you’ll see!” After a few minutes of going steadily uphill, Arundelle felt Artham let go of her hands and move a few feet away. The sea salt breeze was stronger now, and she could smell the fragrant spice of fallen leaves crushed underfoot. “Go ahead and open your eyes now,” Artham said, his mind now completely untroubled by any of that week’s previous events, but instead full of happiness that was specifically because of Arundelle, and that seemed to spill out into all the world. Arundelle opened her eyes and placed a hand over her mouth but letting out a little laugh of delighted surprise. They were where she had expected; her favorite place in all of Anniera, the thick, ancient tree that dipped over the side of the cliff, overlooking the sea. It had become a sort of tradition between them, that every time Arundelle’s family was in Rysentown or Pennybridge, they would come here together. Artham stood leaning on his broad shoulder awkwardly against the tree, his hands placed restlessly on the thick trunk, watching Arundelle’s face, grinning when he saw her surprise and delight. What had surprised her was the blanket laid out in the jagged shadow of the tree, and the almost overflowing picnic basket. “Artham, did you get all of this ready for me?” She asked, her eyes shining as she took a few steps forward and sat down on the blanket, her green skirt spreading out on the blanket. “Who else do you know who would have?” He asked her as he sat down beside her. “But why?” She asked, leaning away from him to better see his face. “Happy Birthday, Aru,” he whispered, thrilled at the new wave of surprise that washed over her face. “But my birthday is next week,” she said. “And I’ll be in the Hollows then. I still wanted to celebrate with you somehow.” Arundelle smiled and gazed out at the ocean, perfect contentment written on her every feature. “Thank you,” she murmured as the wind played with her hair, tossing it and making it flow out behind her. Artham didn’t answer, but moved the basket between them, where Arundelle caught sight of a folded piece of crisp white paper. She picked it up and glanced at Artham. “Why don’t you find out what that says?” He asked as he began unpacking the basket. She unfolded the paper and began to read out loud. “Four years ago, this was your secret place. Secret, filled from your heart With beautiful lonely grace. Three years ago, you dared to share it with me, And somehow it became mine too, Since the willow tree.” Artham averted his eyes and busied himself with clumsily setting out the food, trying to hide the smile on his face while she read, but stealing constant glances at her, trying to read her thoughts. “Two years ago, I waited here, Knowing you wouldn’t come, And wished that you were somewhere near. Last year, you and this place stayed the same, While my life was rewritten and changed. And after the storm had gone, it was here that I came. This year, I want you to know, That we’re still with each other here, And will always be, despite what winds may blow. Next year, is a place I cannot see But I know we’ll be here Together by our tree.” Arundelle looked up at Artham with shining eyes. “Thank you Artham. Someday, I’ll come to live in Rysentown, and we can come here all the time.” She rested her head on his shoulder with a joyful, content sigh. Someday, someday, someday, Artham’s mind echoed. Someday, his heart whispered back, Chapter 4-The Memory Tree      Artham shook his head and smiled as his brother rounded a building and went out of sight. He glanced down the street toward the Illing Inn and then toward the ocean. He pulled in the reins and began making his way down the street toward the Inn, but then that nagging nervousness began tugging at him again. He tried to push it away, but it just wouldn’t leave.      Groaning in exasperation, he decided to give into it. Turning back, he kicked Shasta into a gallop and retraced his steps, then followed a cobbled path that led off the street and toward Sir Kadru’s manor. After about ten minutes, he was in sight of the manor and saw Esben dismounting and shaking hands with Sir Kadru, then going safely into the house. Artham let out a puff of relief and headed back into town, scolding himself for being so edgy.        As he rode back into town, his train of thought returned to where it had been that morning, the council meeting. He shook his head with annoyance, telling himself to just focus on what was happening right now. If there really was a problem, he’d deal with it later.       And now, he thought, I have arrived at the Illing Inn. He smiled and reined in his horse, then quietly took Arundelle’s mare from the Inn’s stableyard. He led both horses to the front door, and after a second, knocked loudly and decidedly on the front door.       “Yes? Oh, why hello, Artham! Won’t you come in?” Mrs. Illing opened the door and greeted him warmly. Artham smiled and said,       “I’d love to, Mrs. Illing, in fact it’s rather hard to refuse that offer because I can smell something wonderful in there,” Someone was running down the stairs. “But can you call Arundelle for me? I would like to steal her for a few hours.” Mrs. Illing laughed and looked at Artham with a knowing twinkle in her eye.       “Of course, dear.” She turned into the Inn, but then Arundelle swept down the stairs and called,       “I’m here!” She made her way quickly toward the door, meeting Artham’s eyes with a smile that once again awoke that strange, terrifying, delightful feeling in him. She paused by the Mrs. Illing, putting a hand on her elbow and asked,       “Do you need me for anything else right now?”       “Oh no, dear,” Mrs. Illing said, giving Arundelle a quick hug and shooing her out the door. “You two lovebirds go enjoy the day.” Artham stiffened for a moment, but then laughed a little awkwardly.       “Thank you, Mrs. Illing,” he said. Mrs. Illing smiled and closed the door behind her. Artham turned and bowed to Arundelle.       “I have come to steal you away, my lady,” he said, kissing her hand with a flourish. She laughed and curtseyed to him with mock seriousness.       “I have been waiting all the day long just to be stolen,” she said, letting him help her onto her horse. She paused and turned to Artham, surveying him skeptically with a little smile.       “Where are we going, Throne Warden, and how have you escaped your ward?”       “To the first question, my dear Arundelle, I can’t tell you because it’s a surprise. To the second, I have disposed of him properly without neglecting my duties.”      “What took you so long to get here?” Arundelle asked, tilting her head. Artham grimaced.       “I’m sorry I was so late. Let’s just say…I was delayed on the way by a crowd of our friends.”       “Oh…” Arundelle laughed sympathetically. “But thankfully it appears you have survived.” They rode together, enjoying the beauty of the sunny, windy winter day until they were almost outside Pennybridge, on a road that led to almost everywhere.      “Here is where we stop,” Artham said, helping her gently down and tying both horses to a nearby fence.          “Let’s go take a walk on the beach.” They walked side by side in the sandy fields of coarse grass, talking and laughing, occasionally reciting poetry to one another, or when Arundelle broke into song, Artham accompanied the ethereal beauty of her high, sweet, strong voice with his own deep, warm tones. For a while, she slipped her hand into his, setting his heart pounding and his fingertips tingling. After a while, the sandy grass began to be dispersed with black stones and different types of scrub and brush, and Artham realized they were nearly there.        He turned and smiled at Arundelle, soaking in every detail of her appearance, the wind blown hair that the sun tinted with red gold, her clear, bright green eyes, her rosy cheeks that seemed to glow above the warm brown of her coat, and her arm curving toward him because of the hand resting in his. He drank in every detail and let it distract him from worrying and fill his heart with joy.        “Can you guess where we’re going?” Arundelle gazed around her and then in the direction they were wandering. She laughed.        “I think I can, Artham. But why-”      “Just wait and see,” he said, interrupting her question. They walked together for a while until the hill dropped off into the ocean in a cliff to their left, and the grassy sand was completely replaced by black boulders and scraggly bushes.       “Here’s where you close your eyes,” Artham said, leading her now by both hands. Arundelle closed her eyes and laughed.        “Artham, I know where we’re going, why can’t I look?” Now Artham laughed.        “Be patient and you’ll see!” After a few minutes of going steadily uphill, Arundelle felt Artham let go of her hands and move a few feet away. The sea salt breeze was stronger now, and she could smell the fragrant spice of fallen leaves crushed underfoot.        “Go ahead and open your eyes now,” Artham said, his mind now completely untroubled by any of that week’s previous events, but instead full of happiness that was specifically because of Arundelle, and that seemed to spill out into all the world.      Arundelle opened her eyes and placed a hand over her mouth but letting out a little laugh of delighted surprise. They were where she had expected; her favorite place in all of Anniera, the thick, ancient tree that dipped over the side of the cliff, overlooking the sea.       It had become a sort of tradition between them, that every time Arundelle’s family was in Rysentown or Pennybridge, they would come here together. Artham stood leaning on his broad shoulder awkwardly against the tree, his hands placed restlessly on the thick trunk, watching Arundelle’s face, grinning when he saw her surprise and delight. What had surprised her was the blanket laid out in the jagged shadow of the tree, and the almost overflowing picnic basket.       “Artham, did you get all of this ready for me?” She asked, her eyes shining as she took a few steps forward and sat down on the blanket, her green skirt spreading out on the blanket.       “Who else do you know who would have?” He asked her as he sat down beside her.      “But why?” She asked, leaning away from him to better see his face.       “Happy Birthday, Aru,” he whispered, thrilled at the new wave of surprise that washed over her face.             “But my birthday is next week,” she said.      “And I’ll be in the Hollows then. I still wanted to celebrate with you somehow.” Arundelle smiled and gazed out at the ocean, perfect contentment written on her every feature.       “Thank you,” she murmured as the wind played with her hair, tossing it and making it flow out behind her. Artham didn’t answer, but moved the basket between them, where Arundelle caught sight of a folded piece of crisp white paper. She picked it up and glanced at Artham.        “Why don’t you find out what that says?” He asked as he began unpacking the basket. She unfolded the paper and began to read out loud.       “Four years ago, this was your secret place.  Secret, filled from your heart With beautiful lonely grace. Three years ago, you dared to share it with me,  And somehow it became mine too,  Since the willow tree.”       Artham averted his eyes and busied himself with clumsily setting out the food, trying to hide the smile on his face while she read, but stealing constant glances at her, trying to read her thoughts.  “Two years ago, I waited here, Knowing you wouldn’t come, And wished that you were somewhere near. Last year, you and this place stayed the same, While my life was rewritten and changed. And after the storm had gone, it was here that I came. This year, I want you to know, That we’re still with each other here, And will always be, despite what winds may blow. Next year, is a place I cannot see But I know we’ll be here Together by our tree.”  Arundelle looked up at Artham with shining eyes.        “Thank you Artham. Someday, I’ll come to live in Rysentown, and we can come here all the time.” She rested her head on his shoulder with a joyful, content sigh.        Someday, someday, someday, Artham’s mind echoed.        Someday, his heart whispered back, someday soon.  * * *      As the sun began its slow descent, Artham and Arundelle rode home together in a peaceful silence, and the whole way back Artham thanked the Maker for Aru, for the beautiful day, for everything. But as they neared the Illing Inn, Artham turned toward Sir Kadru’s manor and concern flitted across his face. Arundelle noticed.        “What’s wrong, Artham?” She asked worriedly.        “I’m having one of those days when my Throne Warden instinct decides to drive me crazy.” Arundelle looked at him with a question in her eyes.       “I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, but there’s no reason for it! I wish I didn’t feel this way, I hate it!” Arundelle nodded, then turned to him, pulling her horse in.        “Artham, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over my life and my years of friendship with you, it’s that the Maker never lets anything happen without a reason. He made you Throne Warden, and…and that’s a scary job, Artham. If he gave you that instinct, don’t reject it! He made you sharp and strong, and gave you that feeling. Maybe someday you’ll need it.” Arundelle realized she was frowning and smiled at Artham.         “I’m sorry, Artham. I’ve been thinking about that too much lately.”         “It’s okay.” After a moment, Artham spoke again, softly, almost in a whisper. “I just wish today could last forever.” Arundelle smiled.        “Me too,” she said. “But, ‘The sun keeps burning time, the precious thing I thought was mine.’ So I’ve decided to enjoy every hour of my life to the fullest. And oh, Artham, today was perfect. I’ll always remember it. The other thing I’ve decided to do is just topray, pray hard, that when the hard times come, because they always do come at sometime or another, the Maker will give us the strength we need.” 

So I kinda have writers block for both stories . . . I know what has to happen in Singing Stones and what I want to happen in Warden's Daughter (Lia trying to have a conversation with Peet). But I'm not sure if I just lost motivation at the moment, forgot how to write, life's too busy, or I'm just full blown stuck. If y'all have any ideas on where to go or how to-brain lag- um, write it or whatever, please tell me. (I need a better starting point than just before we get a story) I mean, unless Warden's daughter skips to the Dragon Day Festival and I can use the book more, my brain needs help braining. And it definitely needs some assistance in Singing Stones because I'm trying to do it how Esben saw it and would rather not go to Artham or someone else's perspective. (well, maybe Arundelle's.) Ideas for either story would be liked. Please comment any ideas no matter how strange they may be.

Leeli stirred the pot with a smile on her face, but inside she was a confused mix of emotions she didn't completely understand. She was upset at her grandfather for being mean to Peet, annoyed at her Mama for all the secrets she was keeping, worried about Janner's confusion and Tink's thoughtlessness, and not sure what to think about the two girls suddenly dumped into her life along with a boogle of other problems. Having sisters might be nice. More girls than boys. But will they fit with us? Rebekah was her age, and Gracie was Tink's age. We sure don't need another Tink, she mused, but she seems more talkative than impulsive. Glancing over at Gracie, she realized that Gracie wasn't living up to that currently, she seemed quiet and withdrawn. Was something bothering her? She looked over at Rebekah, who she already knew she liked. Rebekah was watching the dinner preparations from a seat on the bunkbed and was trying to get Leeli's whistleharp to make a whistling noise. Leeli grinned. She’d given Rebekah the harp knowing it would be amusing to watch her try. Rebekah seemed stubborn, and Leeli knew she’d stick with it for a while. She wasn't trying to be mean, she just knew that most people couldn't get a squeak out of it due to the complicated way it worked. She didn't remember learning how to do the whistle tongue fold, but she had seen her brothers try and fail to make it, and her grandfather had refused to try it! Mama knew how to make high-pitched noises, and a few scales, but wasn't good at it at all. She had taught Leeli by giving her songs to memorize, and telling her when she was out of tune. Leeli thus knew that Rebekah would probably be trying for quite a while before giving up, as she seemed very persistent, and she was right! Rebekah had her brow furrowed and was deeply concentrating on it, oblivious to the world around her. Then, she got up, walked over to Leeli, and held it out with a questioning look while gesturing for the spoon. Leeli handed her said spoon, and then showed her the complicated shape her tongue made when she played. Rebekah then lifted her lip showing her tongue, and attempted to make the shape. After a few tries, she made it well enough to make a squeak. Leeli smiled even wider as Rebekah's eyes widened at the novel feeling of the air forming a whistle in her mouth, and then narrowed in concentration as she took the whistleharp from Leeli, handing back the spoon, and started squeaking around, trying to figure out what the fingerings were. Tink, who had been slumped in the corner looked up startled and said "Wow! She can make noise on your whistleharp Leeli! She's really squeaky though!" Gracie frowned at that but didn't say anything as she went back to her duty chopping totatoes. Leeli on the other hand scathingly remarked, "At least she can make noise!" and that was the end of it because the soup was ready. Tink was full, but that wouldn't last very long before he felt hungry again. He was a little tired, especially because today had been very confusing, from following Peet to his treehouse that morning to being arrested and having their barn burnt down because the Fangs thought they had jewels or something and then escaping because Peet had knives for fingers and then they were arrested again because Zouzab was a traitor and then escaped again because a girl HIS AGE had a sword and SCARED THE ENTIRE FANG ARMY!!! So yeah, he was a little tired, but he was full, and safe with his family, and sorta having an adventure! He looked around for Gracie, wanting to talk to her about what she had done earlier, but when he found her she was eating her soup, spaced out. Then Janner asked Nia a question: "Where are the jewels of Anniera?" Interested, Tink followed this up with a "Yeah, can we see them?" Nia smirked, leaned forward, and said "Are you sure you haven't already?" Confusion plain on their faces, the three Igiby children leaned forward, eager to learn what their mother meant... ...Nia had a gentle smile on her face, yet tears welled in her eyes as she realized the significance of what she had revealed would have on their life. Sniffing softly, she turned to the children and smiled at the wonder clear in their eyes. "I wish you could have seen it! Anniera was beautiful, especially in the spring. If your uncle isn't too crazy, he will be able to tell you a little about what it was like." Satisfied her children were occupied with their gifts, and had no more questions about their heritage, she glanced over, suddenly remembering that she had two little children to make welcome and to care for. Rebekah was sitting beside Kalmar, looking at the pictures in the dusty sketchbook, eyes soft with wonder at their beauty. She was still clutching Leeli's old whistleharp, and Nia guessed that Leeli would let her keep it as her own. Glancing over at Gracie, Nia quickly dropped the cloth she was holding and quickly strode over to the eleven-year-old. Gracie was huddled in the corner, hugging herself tightly, and was shaking with either fear or adrenaline; probably both considering what had happened that day. Nia cautiously wrapped her arms around her and picked her up, carrying her over to the low bunk bed. She then wrapped her in a blanket and held her tightly, singing along to Leeli's tune, and rocking her gently. Gracie slowly relaxed: breathing slower and muscles releasing, and soon after, her head fell off of Nia's shoulder onto her chest with a small thud. She was fast asleep. Rebekah had had her eyes on Nia from the instant she picked Gracie up, and when Gracie dropped off, she visibly relaxed, obviously glad her sister was asleep. Nia laid Gracie down on a pile of blankets in the corner, and Rebekah stepped over Leeli and Tink and closed her eyes on the floor beside her slumbering sister. Ok... My headcanon is that a whistleharp is extremely hard to play due to the fact that you make the whistle sound with a complex fold of the tongue and that all the notes are out of order... don't ask why. Sorry to everyone who wanted to see Nia tell them their heritage!!! I didn't want to copy it all from the book. Did I show that panic attack well? Chat GPT gave me advice, but I want human advice as well.