Standing Steady in the Storms Ch. 33-34

Worries About the Kingdom

Notes:

Sorry....this is a lot to approve 😅😥

A song I attributed to Sara in Part II: Shattered is "Stand By You," by Rachel Platten. It fits the situation very well^^

*****

After they arrived back at Castle Rysen following the "incident" at the Farmers' Market — Leeli insisted on calling it the Incident even as Sara tried her best to stop her from doing so — the girls headed for the kitchen. Nia was there, and they promptly gave her the butter. Sara quickly excused herself, saying she was going to check on Evnia and Elquinn and visit with Janner. Leeli felt a little twinge in her heart. She knew it wasn’t so much visiting as sitting by his bedside, silently begging him to some back from where he had lost himself.

As Sara walked out of the kitchen to head upstairs, Nia began the task she had wanted to complete that morning, baking butterbread. 

Leeli glanced between Sara’s retreating form and her mother, trying to decide what to do. As she got several bowls from the cupboards, Nia said: "Leeli, if you’re going to stand in the kitchen, then why don’t you get out a few ingredients for me?"

"Not at all," Leeli said quickly, her mind now decided for her. She went over to the pantry to get the flour, yeast, salt, and every other ingredient Nia would need to make the butterbread. She had been making it for years,and memories of baking day from the time Leeli was very little and they were still living in the cottage in Glipwood were etched into her mind.

"Thank you, dear," Nia said as Leeli fetched everything. She began combining ingredients of all sorts and as each one was used, Leeli put the remaining amounts of it away. Nia liked to clean as she went, and Leeli had adopted her policy. Rather, she tried to. It was more difficult when she was baking with Thorn.

Once everything was mixed, Nia and Leeli separated the dough into blobs that they would bake into loaves. They covered them and left them to rise while they sat at the kitchen table, waiting.

"Now," Nia said as she visibly relaxed. "What is troubling you? You were distracted the entire time, and you're never distracted, Leeli."

Leeli sighed. Sometimes it was frustrating that her mother was so perceptive. She hadn’t wanted to worry her, but it seemed as though Nia was going to make that impossible. Questions had already been flitting through her head. Was the issue one of little importance, or did it need to be addressed at the next meeting of the Council? Did the mayors of the Anniera towns need to be aware of the unrest, or did they should they ignore it? 

If things had been as they were almost two months ago, Leeli would never have even considered these questions. But since the week after Janner and Kalmar had disappeared, Nia had begun training her to rule the kingdom. It was an unnerving thought, and Leeli had tried to forget about what she was really doing as must as possible: she was being groomed into a queen in the event of her brother’s death. It had only taken one meeting of the Council to tell Leeli that she had no desire to be queen for more than one reason. She had had to address them on the state of crops, revenue, population, prosperity, and a thousand other topics she couldn't remember and had to rely on her mother’s extensive notes for. 

By the end of that nerve-wracking meeting, Leeli understood why Kalmar could not stand the formalities of kingship. It was a nightmare.  

Finally, after making Nia wait for far longer than she should have had to for an answer, Leeli spoke. "There were two men at the Farmers' Market," she began, deciding it was a matter her mother should be aware of. They could decide together whether or not it was worth the Council's time and energy.

"And what did these men do?" Nia prompted her.

Leeli took a deep breath. "They were criticizing the Kingdom, Mama! Saying that we are falling apart because our King has disappeared and we have no idea where he is. And then,” her eyes became hard and angry. “They started condemning Janner, saying that he was a failure of a Throne Warden.” Nia pursed her lips in concern. “These were visitors from Skree, Mama. Skree. What happens if they take that word back to Skree, back to Kimera, Torborro, Dugtown, Glipwood, and a hundred other towns? The Green Hollows know and have even been helping as by sending out reconnaissance ships for weeks, but they’ve always been tight-knit with Anniera. Even when we revealed what happened more recently, with only Janner returning rather than both he and Kalmar, they accepted it. They didn't criticize us or Janner or anybody. They understand how Anniera functions and the ends a Throne Warden will go to in an effort to protect their charge. They know that Janner fought to the fullest extent to rescue Kalmar and it grieved him when he failed. They sympathize with us, though. They get it.”

“And Skree most likely will not,” Nia said softly as she rested her forehead on her hand. She glanced over at the bread that had now risen. “Let's think about this while we’re kneading, alright?”

Leeli nodded and took one of the bowls with sticky dough inside and began punching it and folding it, listening to the air squeeze out with a sigh and the lovely smell waft off into the room. She put her anger and frustration into the kneading, and by the look on Nia's face and the force with which she punched the dough, she was doing the same.

“I think,” Nia said with a grunt as she kneaded the dough. “We shouldn’t put too much thought into it.”

Leeli looked at her sharply. “Mama, are you sure? Those men could very well—”

“Those men,” Nia interrupted calmly. “Cannot do anything if the Maker does not allow them to do so. And I know that Anniera is worried. We are all worried. I would not doubt it if the same thoughts voiced by the men have entered the Annierans' minds. I'm sure others have even spoken them aloud. Perhaps in the privacy of their own homes, but thoughts are thoughts. They're rather difficult to control. Thoughts spiral more than they should and cause pain. I think we see this better than most. Look at what thoughts have done to Artham years ago and Janner now.” Nia gave her a bittersweet half-smile and stroked a wisp of Leeli's blonde hair that had come undone from its braid. “But despite this, making the Council aware at the next meeting is a good idea. As much as I doubt the Annierans will be so harsh, considering what Janner did for them seven years ago, doubts are a very real thing and they will appreciate being addressed and reassured.”

Nia moved to put the lumps of dough into bread tins so they could bake in the oven.

Leeli nodded but paused halfway through the third one, cocking her head in confusion. “Mama,” she said slowly as she pushed a bread tin filled with dough into the brick oven. “What reassurance do we have for them?”

Nia stood behind her, holding another bread tin. She placed it inside next to Leeli's loaf and shut the heavy iron door. “I pray the Maker will give us some before the next meeting,” Nia replied softly as she wiped her hands on her apron. “I pray that He does.”

***

“Leeli and I went to the Farmers’ Market for butter earlier. Frankle ate it all, and Mama was so angry. Baxter just sat there, watching as Frankle was scolded.” Sara shook her head and laughed a little at the memory. “Mrs. Hendra asked about you,” she added more quietly. “She wanted to know if you were alright. I told her you were mostly fine. But I think we both know that’s not true,” she added as she looked up from Evnia’s face, set in the look of the lovely serenity of sleep. If she opened her eyes, they would be green. A peaceful green that knew no worry or fear. They were the same green as Janner’s eyes, almost a gray-green that was deeper than emerald, in a way. They were eyes that showed every emotion that rolled through them, and in them was written the truth, even if the truth was not being said. 

Sara shifted her position so that she was sitting on one leg that bent underneath her, and allowed the other to dangle off the side of the bed. She cradled Evnia in one arm while she held Janner’s hand with the other. 

Sara knew he wasn’t seeing her or hearing her, but she knew he felt her. She could feel him relax just slightly when she touched him, his eyes grew a shade lighter, and his breathing slowed. 

“Artham hasn’t been able to get you to drink much today, has he?” Sara asked, forcing a resolved tone into her voice to mask the fear that really resided there. One of the hardest parts had been convincing Janner that he needed to eat and drink to stay alive. Artham was sometimes able to get enough fluids in him, but food had been a challenge. It was bad enough that Janner had been a little under-nourished when he came back from...wherever he had been. Now, though, he wouldn’t eat at all. 

It wasn’t even that he was always sleeping. In fact, Janner was almost always awake, per say. He was only trapped in a deep, dark cave in his find that he refused to force himself out of. 

Physically, though, he was here. In Castle Rysen. In a room adjacent to her own. Sometimes he was laying down underneath the bedclothes, other times he was on top of them, wrapping his arms tightly around his drawn-up knees as if it was the only thing keeping him intact. 

“Janner," she whispered, as she cuppsed his cheek. Sara wondered if it was her imagination, or if he was really leaning into it, just a little bit. “I love you.”

There was a quiet creak behind her, and Sara whipped her head around to see Artham coming through with a bowl of some sort of liquid in his hand. Broth, she guessed. “It’s been working better than anything else,” he said quietly as he took a few steps closer. By the tone of his voice, she guessed that it really wasn’t working well at all, but it was better than nothing.

Sara nodded as Artham pulled up a wooden stool that was beside the bed. He placed the bowl of broth — henmeat broth, by the smell of it — on a little side table and slowly began coaxing Janner into a sitting position. Then Artham dipped the wooden spoon into the bowl and brought it cautiously to Janner’s lips. But he wouldn’t open his mouth. 

When Sara glanced at him, she saw that his eyes were wide with fear and darted back and forth frantically. He tensed, locking his muscles without knowing that he did so. Artham noticed it, too. He did nothing, though. He set the broth back on the side table and took Evnia from Sara’s arms. 

She glanced up at him in surprise. 

“See to him,” Artham whispered. “I know where his mind is and right now I could help him, but you can too. He loves you, Sara."

Sara hesitated momentarily but then went forward, placing her hands on Janner’s shoulders as she smiled sadly. “I love you, Janner Wingfeather. Nothing can change that. I will love you for the rest of my life. Please, be still.”

She watched as Janner visibly relaxed, slowly loosening the tension in his body. “That’s good,” she said softly. She took his right hand in hers and rubbed the scar on his palm gently. “Will you eat this? Please,” she added, picking up the bowl of henmeat soup. 

Janner’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, a single, solitary moment that passed so fast, Sara almost thought she imagined it, he was present. In that short moment, he nodded. Then he was back inside again. Still, he nodded! He had actually responded to her for the first time in...well, two weeks. Has it really been that long? 

As she spooned the broth into Janner’s mouth though, feeding him as though he was a young, sick child, Sara felt her heart breaking. When would he come back? What if he never came back?

“I came back,” Artham whispered unexpectedly, as if he had known her thoughts. “Janner will, too.”

Sara clung to that hope with every fiber of her being.

*****

Notes:

So now you may understand why they can't exactly take Janner into town to look at the puppies. It's because he's sort of...physically incapable of it. I know that wasn't super obvious before since I hadn't gone into specific detail about it in the actual story...but basically this sort of thing has been going on for two weeks 😬

I promise, the next chapter is much less of a downer^^

An Adorably Gentlemanly Escort in the Green Hollows

Notes:

I'll give the same notes I gave my AO3 readers^^

This chapter was originally TERRIBLE. I mean, it was actually, legitly TERRIBLE. Originally, it was a really, really dry walk-through of Castle Throg with nothing interesting. Now it has that (but it's better since it's not the whole chapter) but there's also some Theeli in there, because those two are just adorable^^

And I must give credit where credit is due. The chapter is good because two of my AO3 readers asked me to put more fluff into the story (I promise, it's innocent, very light, nothing heavy at all), and one of them is obsessed with Theeli, lol

*****

“Kalmar, I believe it is time to give you a tour of Castle Throg,” Amrah said as they finished breakfast. 

Kal looked up at her in expectation, not surprise. He had looked at her in surprise many times in the past two or so weeks, surprise that she was the “leader” the runway Fang had spoken of, surprise that she did not want to kill him, surprise that she had bothered to put together a room for him, surprise at the gorgeous art supplies, surprise at the quality of the food at Castle Throg, — the food really was phenomenal. Kalmar wasn’t sure if it was because he had eaten virtually nothing except diggle meat, plonkfish, and random berries that had occasionally made both him and Janner throw up. But thinking of Janner made his heart ache, so he pushed it aside — and, of course, surprise at Amrah’s kindness.

 At least, he thought it was kindness. Kalmar was still a bit wary of her, considering the fact that she had Fanged hundreds of people, including men, women, children, and himself. He was sure she was plotting something. The words, “I will set brother against brother, High King against Throne Warden,” were too menacing to ignore or unhear. 

“Why now?” he asked instead, hoping that something near aloofness would clue her in on the fact that he didn’t exactly want to see a tour of the place where Ouster Will had made his home for Epochs and where horrendous experiments on people and animals alike had been carried out.

Amrah sighed. “Because, King Kalmar, this is a good time for me. I have nothing to do today and neither do you.” She got up from the table and walked out of the dining hall. She turned around just before exiting. “Well are you coming?”

Kalmar rose wordlessly and followed her, wondering what in Aerwiar Amrah could possibly have to do on other days if she was not Fanging people constantly. 

***** 

Leeli stood on the deck of the Annieran Windwhistle, bouncing up and down on her toes excitedly. She had been watching the Dark Sea of Darkness all morning since she had spotted the first hills of the Green Hollows at dawn. They had only been a tiny speck on the horizon then, but they had been there. And they had grown larger by the quarter hour.

Traveling to the Green Hollows from Anniera was not an odd thing, in fact, it was one of the most common trips an Annieran or Hollish citizen would make. In fact during the past two months — if life hadn’t been so crazy —  Janner and Kalmar would have both sailed to the Green Hollows for various meetings and regulations several times. 

 Before, Leeli hadn’t understood much more than a phrase or two of the concepts that Janner and Kal, well, mostly Janner, Kalmar was still trying to avoid the numbers and facts, discussed regularly. Now, though, she was actually understanding it all. It was a strange thing, understanding those facts. Leeli would have never dreamed that there was a need to really grasp everything that was happening in Anniera, the Green Hollows, and Skree, and how every country was affecting the other. Now she did, though, and it made her a little uncomfortable.

This would be her first visit in the past two months. Normally, she and Thorn took turns coming to see each other. She would go to the Green Hollows and stay for a few days and then he would come to Anniera. That was how it had been for a while. When Janner and Kalmar went missing, though, Nia had immediately become concerned that Leeli would also be swept away in a storm never to be seen again. Leeli had to admit that her mother’s concern had been slightly irritating and had frustrated her a good deal, but she had said nothing. The situation had been too dire for complaints about disruptions in schedules. 

Janner had been back for three weeks, though. No fierce storms had been seen for days. Added to that, there was a conference in the Green Hollows that someone from their family needed to attend. Nia was hesitant because she had stayed home for the past few years, making sure everything stayed in order in Anniera while the boys had been off taking care of the formalities. Artham was wary because he felt obligated to stay with Janner. Sara felt the same. Arundelle could have gone, but she thought she was a bit too “removed” from the current line of Wingfeather royalty to represent them at an important convention. 

So that left Leeli. Leeli, who was being trained to handle the responsibilities of queenship, should the worst happen and Kalmar not be found. Leeli, who was fervently hoping that she would not have to speak in front of the Clansmen and women. She knew she would probably have to, though. 

The upside to all of it was that she was going to stay with the O’Sallys. Biggin had a guest room that was “right nice and perty” as he had said several times. And, of course, the O’Sallys meant Thorn. 

About a half hour later, the Annieran Whistlewind was docking. Leeli already had her small bag in hand and her whistleharp in its case, slung behind her back, when the gangplank was laid down. 

“Leeli! Over here, Leeli!” she heard. 

A huge smile spread across Leeli’s face, and she did her best to keep from laughing aloud. While walking down the gangplank, she caught sight of the bearer of that voice: the lanky, dark-haired, puppy-eyed, bouncing-bean love-of-her-life. 

Thorn. 

Leeli barely resisted the urge to run toward him, knowing the “real” reason why she was here. She was supposed to at least look professional, and unfortunately dropping her things right there on the dock and racing over to Thorn so he could grab her hands and they would spin around in a giant circle before bolting towards the Houndry so he could show her all the new puppies and she could play her whistleharp for them and him and then—

“Do you want me to get your bag for ya, Leeli?” Thorn asked her, unexpectedly close. 

Leeli jumped a little in surprise. “If you want to,” she said, a bit shyly. He took the small bag from her hand and held out his arm so she could hold onto it.

Leeli looked at him for a second and then burst out laughing. Thorn, spunky, grammarless, dog-loving Thorn was trying to play the gentleman! She smiled and held onto his arm anyway. 

As they walked across the dock and toward the town of Ban Rona, she simply couldn't resist teasing him. “Well, Thorn, you are acting very much the gentleman this afternoon. What’s going on?”

Thorn looked at her very seriously. “Leeli, I’m supposed’ta be your escort to the council meetin’. I can’t let ‘em think my girl’s got a sloppy, uncouth person escortin’ her.”

Leeli laughed again. “Thorn, that’s very sweet of you, but where did you learn the word ‘uncouth’?”

Thorn’s smile grew wide. “Oh, Mister Oskar taught me it. I told ‘im that I wanted to impress you an’ the clans, so he told me some words ta use and how ta use ‘em! He’s a real good, I mean, really good teacher.”

“In that case, Mister Thorn O’Sally, the sophisticated speaker,” Leeli paused to see if he knew what “sophisticated” meant, and by the understanding look on his face, she guessed he did. “I think Mister Reteep did a very good job.”

*****

Over the course of the tour, Kalmar found himself walking past many doors that Amrah did not open, saying they were "unfinished" or "not worth seeing." These rooms were the ones that sparked the most curiosity in Kalmar's mind. What lay behind those doors? The remains of Ouster Will's experiments? Forbidden items that had been stolen by Gnag and the Fangs during the oppression? A dark, endless chasm that you could fall down, with no way to reach the surface again?

Definitely the last one, Kal thought, grinning to himself. It sounds like something Gnag or Will would make.

Well, maybe that wasn't the most likely, but it was the most interesting. 

Amrah showed him random little things, telling him about how certain rooms actually connected to others and that there was an article that ran above the entirety of Castle Throg, and if someone got into that attic, they could pass over everything above them. 

“This is a room I’ve been dying to show someone for years,” Amrah said as she led Kalmar down a stony staircase. It was dark and damp, barely lit by dim, weepy candles. Dankness, moss, and the smell of mold filled the air. Most people would have hated it. 

Kalmar loved it. He felt an urge to touch every crack in the bricks, test every pressure point, find some sort of secret passage — because in a place like Castle Throg, there just had to be secret passages. 

Yet even as he felt his adventurous side kicking around inside his brain, dying to get some sort of action, Kalmar reluctantly reigned it back. He knew he was in a strange place with a woman with an evil history who was literally holding him prisoner. Of course, she was trying to mask it and convince him that Janner was evil in the process, so that obviously made it an even worse situation. 

Kalmar guessed that the main flaw in her plan (whatever that plan actually entailed) was him. He felt guilty about Galya, Sara, and her baby’s death to the point at which he wasn’t about to blame Janner for exploding. 

At least, I don’t think I do, Kalmar thought, hesitating mentally. 

“Well, are you coming?” Amrah demanded, standing at the bottom of the steps.

Kalmar started a bit and took the last few steps. “Uh, yeah, sorry,” he mumbled. 

For a second, there was a glint in Amrah’s eyes that bordered on something between irritation and anger. Kalmar shivered at the glance. It was another reminder that Amrah was not who she pretended to be. He stepped down into the cellar-like area. It was freezing cold away from any sources of heat like fireplaces, and Kal hadn’t thought of bringing any sort of coat or jacket with him.

“This is my favorite room in Castle Throg,” Amrah announced as she lit a torch on the wall.

Orange light flooded over the room, and Kalmar blinked in surprise at the sight before him. He wasn’t even quite sure why it surprised him. It was logical that Castle Throg — or any castle, for that matter — would have a room like this deep within its belly. 

The entire room was lined with armor, weapons, shields, and every sort of defensive equipment imaginable. Swords, spears, bows, arrows, short swords, daggers, lances, flails, round shields, flat shields, and so many other things he could not name glinted pale orange and yellow in the torchlight. The sight of it took Kalmar’s breath away. It had been so long since he had touched any sort of weapon — at least, a real one. He supposed he had handled Janner’s sword on the island, but that had mostly just been to clean it and keep it from rusting after being doused in seawater. Janner would have done it himself, but— 

Kalmar shivered at the memory. Seeing his brother looking half-dead and covered in blood was a sight he desperately wanted to forget. 

He forced himself back to reality and saw Amrah walking over to a table where a collection of swords lay. “I think this one would suit you,” she said softly. She handed the sheathed sword to Kal, and he took it hesitantly. He glanced up at Amrah warily, but unsheathed the sword all the same. The silver steel glinted golden in the torchlight. Kalmar relished the feel of a blade in his hand once again. He parried once, thrusting the sword out a little. 

He caught a glimpse of pleasure on Amrah’s face and once again wondered what her act was. Kal pushed it aside though. He had a weapon in his hand, and it felt wonderful.

***** 

“Leeli, are you sure you needa do all this readin’ and researchin’ before the meetin’?” Thorn asked her as he trailed along behind her like a sad puppy. 

Leeli sighed and turned to look at him. “I don’t really know what exactly I need to do before the meeting,” she said softly. “But I know I want to be prepared and make a good first impression. If worst comes to worst and—” Leeli found herself unable to voice the words that came to her mind: and Kalmar is dead and I have to take his place on the throne. “And things don’t go the way I’d prefer them to, this could be an important meeting,” she said instead.

And if the Maker did allow them to find Kalmar again, then at least this would be a chance to show the Hollish clans that Anniera was standing steady through this tumult.

“Alright,” Thorn said dejectedly. 

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Leeli told him, even though in her heart of hearts she desperately wanted and needed him to stay with her.

The shocked expression that flew onto Thorn’s face was almost enough to make her laugh out loud in the midst of all the shelves of thousands of books and readers who were trying to focus in silence. “Leeli, do you really think I would leave you here alone? I can’t do that — I’m escortin’ you, remember? That means I gotta go wherever you go, even if that is ta the library that I’ve only been in one other time, and that was ta find out how to be a gentleman right proper.”

Leeli smiled at him and slipped her hand into his. “Thank you, Thorn,” she whispered. 

“Can I help you two with anything?” Leeli and Thorn both jumped and turned around to see Madam Sidler standing behind them. 

“Uh,” Leeli said, glancing around. “Thank you, but we’re fine.”

“Really fine,” Thorn nodded fervently. 

Madam Sidler clasped her hands. “Well, if you need my help, I’m always here.” Then she faded back to wherever she had been before. 

“Does the lady do that sorta thin’ a lot?” Thorn asked.

“Actually, yes. And it’s rather unnerving for just about every person in this library.” A large man whose white hair had finally managed to disappear altogether so he couldn’t even think about using it as a combover stood at a bookshelf, organizing several volumes. 

“Mister Reteep!” Leeli exclaimed, greeting her old friend happily. Oskar was just as round as he had ever been but somehow managed to never get rounder or look any more aged. 

“Hello, Lady Leeli. And Thorn, the Gentlemanly escort.” Oskar winked at him. Thorn beamed with pride. 

Leeli smiled at the sight of the two of them “secretly” sharing information. It wasn’t the first time Oskar had tried to do such a thing, but she loved to see the old man trying anyway. “How are you doing, Mister Reteep?”

Oskar adjusted his spectacles and smiled. “I am surrounded by books and couldn’t be happier. But the same is not true for your family. In the words of Gergatrand the Adventure-Seeker: ‘Things are not as they should be across the Sea. I have a feeling something — or someone — is missing.’”

Leeli looked at Oskar for a few seconds. She felt Thorn’s hand on her shoulder — not a normal gesture from him, but it did not seem strange to her — and found comfort in it. She smiled sweetly at Oskar. “We’re working through it.” She hated to tell Oskar what had happened to Janner. They had always been so close, since Janner was a little four-year-old who had already decided he was in love with books. Their old friend didn’t need to know what was really going on. “Anyway, it was nice to see you, Mister Reteep,” Leeli said as she dragged Thorn out to the library’s front door, waving all the while. 

When they were outside, Leeli sat down on the steps, resting her chin in her hands. Thorn lowered himself to sit beside her. “Why’d you do that, Leeli?” he asked. “We were havin’ a talk with Mister Oskar an’ then you just left ‘im.”

Leeli sighed. “I know. And I feel terrible about it. But, Thorn, I just can’t bear to see people I know look at me like they do back home.”

“An’ how do they look at you?” Thorn asked her.

Leeli shifted. “You know, like they pity me because of what’s happening to my family. No one in the Green Hollows really knows the true severity of the situation back home. They think that Janner’s mostly fine, just a little shaken up. They think we’re all worried but that we have it under control. They’ll be surprised when Janner isn’t with me at the meeting and ask why he isn’t there. And I’m not really sure if I have any sort of answer for them.”

Thorn was silent for a few minutes and simply sat there, drumming his fingers on his knee. “Leeli, if I know anythin’ about people who’re in charge, they don’t like ta take the time ta learn secrets ‘bout everyone. They wanna get down to what they’re doin’. I think it’ll be fine. Don’t worry. An’ remember,” he said, eyeing her with his sweet brown eyes. “Ima be there with you. An’ we’re gonna have a grand time.”

Leeli smiled at him. “I think we will.” she whispered. “And, thank you, Thorn.”

“Anythin’ for you, Leeli.”

*****

Notes:

I just felt like this couldn't truly be a WFS fanfiction unless Oskar made a cameo appearance. I mean, seriously: I can't not include the funny character who's literally voiced by Andrew Peterson, right?

We are nearing the beginning of the end of Part II: Shattered 😁