Are you making it a regular practice to find a place of prayer…a tranquil place that allows you to put aside the distractions of life? Find that place and simply listen…let go of the thoughts that constantly flood your mind. Let go of your personal agenda…simply let go. Be silent…open your heart…and pay attention to the inner voice of God.

Suggested song of the day– “Turn Off the Noise” on the Listen to Your Heart album.
All songs available on iTunes. Click on the link under blogroll to the right.
CDs available by clicking “home” and then the “store” tab.
Have a blessed day!

Paul really didn’t want to go to Philippi.

He and Silas had plans to evangelise known territory in Asia Minor (present day Turkey), where they knew there were synagogues and Jewish communities where they could preach easily,  but every time they tried to turn North and East, the Holy Spirit blocked their way.

They crossed to Macedonia, homeland of the hated Alexander who had imposed Greek culture on their nation 300 years before, only as a result of a compelling vision of a man from Macedonia begging them to come and help him.

Philippi was possibly the most unattractive place on earth to begin a religious mission. It was a colonial city, established by the Emperor Augustus to control that part of the Roman Empire, and populated by discharged veterans from the legions, who were each given a square of land on which to support themselves. It didn’t seem to have much of a Jewish population: there weren’t even the ten adult Jewish males you needed before you could establish a synagogue, so the Jews and the Gentile God-fearers who worshipped with them, gathered by the side of the river to pray on the Sabbath.

The leader among the women who met Paul and Silas there was also a stranger in the place: Lydia came from Thyatira in the region they’d just left. She wasn’t Jewish, it seems, though she was drawn to Jewish beliefs, and worshipped with them. She was probably a widow, and was a successful businesswomen, so was probably quite wealthy. She dealt in purple cloth, which was a luxury item, though since the snails from which the purple dye was extracted were considered unclean to Jews, she was probably not considered someone strict Jews ought to associate with.

But it was her heart that was opened to Paul’s preaching, her household that became the first European residents to be converted to the Christian faith, and her home that provided hospitality to Paul and his companions, and the centre of the church that Paul always remembered with joy and thankfulness. The core from which the Christian faith grew on the continent of Europe was composed of women, outcasts and foreigners.

Paul took a risk in preaching the Gospel and accepting hospitality from these women. Lydia took a risk in opening her home to this group of men. Yet, the strength of her faith showed itself in the hospitality and generosity to these strangers. The Letter to Timothy says such hospitality is the hallmark of a church leader, and Paul commended this in the church communities he founded.

‘Hospitality’ is an interesting word. The Greek from which it is translated  – philoxena – is composed of two words meaning ‘love’ and ‘foreigners’ – it it literally love for strangers. The Latin root of our word hospitality, ‘hostes’, also means ‘stranger’.

That tells us ‘hospitality’ is not about having a nice time with people like ourselves. It is about offering safety, comfort, nourishment, security, healing and friendship both to those who are different and alien from us, as well as to those who are like us. This was an absolute obligation in the world of the Old Testament; to fail to offer security and sustenance to a stranger was the worst social offence. It is this, not gay sex, that Sodom and Gemorrah were condemned for

We Christians offer hospitality because that is what God in Jesus offers to us; we have done it as ‘hosts’ (another related word)  in hostels, hospitals and hotels throughout the Church’s history; and it is what the best Christian communities continue to do today.

The readings from John and Revelation also speak, in their different ways, about hospitality. What is on offer in the Gospel passage is healing. The story speaks of Jesus going to a place where the sick gather, all hoping to to be healed by some sort of magic. He picks a stranger at random, and offers him true healing. The person who is healed is not particularly deserving, he doesn’t express faith in Jesus, he doesn’t even seem to be particularly grateful for his healing. It certainly doesn’t appear to provoke faith in him.The miracle demonstrates the generous, indiscriminate character of God’s grace. This story show that it is not true that faith is a precondition for healing; God doesn’t only reward those who have faith. on the contrary, God’s hospitality is offered to all, even the undeserving.

Revelation speaks of a God who accepts the hospitality of humankind, coming to live among them in a renewed Jerusalem, and then, in that holy city, offering hospitality to every race and people. The picture it paints is of a renewed creation: the tree of life stands at the centre, and the river of life flows through it, reflecting the situation in the Garden of Eden. In a parallel with the Gospel story, those who find sanctuary there are offered healing through the leaves of the tree of life.  There will be absolute security for everyone within the city, with no darkness to provide cover for wrongdoing. It will be so secure that the gates will never have to be shut to keep out attackers. It is portrayed as the place of perfect hospitality, where everyone is comfortable, befriended, secure, healthy and at home.

There is no need for a place of religious hospitality in the city, because the presence of God and of the Lamb pervades the whole. Until that consummation comes, each of our churches is called to be a microcosm of that heavenly city in our own towns and communities. How can we be that city and offer that community?

As you wait to move into your new church building, it’s a good question to ask yourselves. How can you offer safety, comfort, nourishment, healing and friendship to both committed members and strangers? How can your church community and your worship be more welcoming to the friendless and the newcomer, in both practical and spiritual ways? Perhaps, like Philippi, this area doesn’t look like a very easy place in which to do mission; but God has a task for you here, just as he had for Paul.

Like Paul’s mission to Europe, the new chapter in this church’s life you are about to embark upon will be a continuation of the old. There will be things you will continue to do, like Messy Church, and hosting meetings for younger and older folk; but the new premises may also offer opportunities to open your doors to welcome other groups, with different interests and different needs, to feel at home as your guests.

But, as citizens of a democratic nation, we all have an obligation to offer hospitality and healing in the name of God, to those far beyond our local communities. John’s vision of the heavenly city in Revelation sees it as a place of security and refuge for all nations, and our Christian calling is to do that through our votes and making our opinions felt, as well as through our practical activities.

John’s vision of a hospitable world is a vision of hope, and also a challenge to the ways in which we fall short of this ideal. In so many ways, our world has developed a culture of suspicion and inhospitality. But, one of the obvious characteristics of Jesus’ first followers as they sought to live out the Gospel was hospitality, reflected in feeding the hungry , inviting strangers into their homes, and serving and praying for the sick, the widow and the orphan . What might be the present day equivalent of those? Perhaps  global debt relief and removal of unjust trade restrictions;humane and just immigration laws and fair treatment of ethnic and other minorities; freely available equitable health care and social services?  For those of us who seek to follow Christ, our vote, and our voice in public debate against those who would deny them, could be a significant influence in creating a more hospitable world.

As we draw to the end of the Easter season, we are reminded again through our readings that the new life unleashed through the resurrection demands that we share God’s love in practical ways. Last week we were shown how the first apostles included those who were once considered unclean in the covenant community. This week we are shown how they offered and accepted hospitality and healing in different and not obviously receptive situations, and so laid the foundations for what would become Christendom, the centre of the world wide missionary activity of the Church. Our calling as Pentecost approaches is to do the same, to welcome in and offer healing and comfort to all, without distinction, and to do our best to create the community and safety of the heavenly city wherever we have influence on this earth.

Lydia awaits,
baptized at the riverside;
she invites us, “Stay.”

At Thayati’ra,
we sleep atop purple goods,
feed on simple breads.

“Strong heart, it’s farewell.”
He’d have liked you, my sister,
as I, most beloved.

Back at Sam’othrace,
I think of her, still smell her;
she is not like me.

© Carlos Chagall, 2013

Written by Rachel Kiley

Introducing DARCY!!!!

So Lizzie’s mom has been “freaking out” because the future husband of one of her daughters (she doesn’t care which) has gone off to the airport to bring home a “harem full of women”!

Mrs Bennet (played by Lizzie): There are prostitutes and teenagers and probably not-so-distant cousins!

Lizzie (played by Lizzie): And you want me to marry this guy?

Mrs Bennet (Played by Lizzie): Have you not been listening to me? He’s rich, handsome and single!

Apparently Mrs B has taken to driving by Bing Lee’s house (five or six times), spoken to his neighbours, stolen his mail …completely normal things! And now that Bing Lee and his chauffeur driven car are at the airport receiving untold number of women (oh right, 500), Mrs B fears her daughters have lost all chances of marrying the man. Eh, one of them that is. I’m sure even Mrs B wouldn’t advocate polygamy just to get her daughters married off.

At this point of the reenactment by Lizzie, Lydia sneaks in to topple Lizzie off her seat and snap a picture of her in pretending-to-be-mom-getup.

But Lizzie gets over her annoyance fast because Lydia has news.

Mom had sent her youngest this time, to snoop on Bing Lee, on her way back from Marie’s (probably her friend). And now Lydia can accurately inform us that there was only one girl with Bing Lee! Who also happened to be gorgeous. A little further detective work –

Lydia: So I talked to Marie, who texted Ben, who called his cousin…

– and she found out that the girl’s just Bing Lee’s sister. Just his sister!

Lydia: Holla!

Yep. So good news for Mom. But did Lydia catch a glimpse of the elusive Bing Lee? Is he cute?

Sadly no. Just the back of his head.

Lydia: I tried! He’s like a ninja.

But she did catch a glimpse of someone else. Another man!

Lizzie: Wait. Like, frollicking in the meadows, holding hands another man?

Lydia protests that he’s a friend – an incredibly hot, incredibly rich piece of mancake – who went to school with Bing Lee.

Which, Lizzie cheekily points out, proves nothing. So did Lydia find out this “ambiguously sexually-oriented ‘mancake’s’ name”?

Ah yes, in fact she did!

Hold your breath everybody…

…

Yeah, so we know it’s Darcy. And Lizzie is not impressed even though the guy does share names with a character Colin Firth played – you know the one!

Lydia: …in that chubby Zellweger movie?

=D Heh. Yeah.

I have finally completed my drawing of Jackson and Lydia. Took my at least 3 hours to do.

Please could you share this amongst your friends and family. I would really appreciate it!

I really like the outcome of the shading technique. I hope you all like it too!

Please could you comment on this piece. I would love to hear your thoughts regarding the final outcome.

Thanks for reading my blog!
Hope your all well!

I am working on a drawing of my favourite US TV couple – Jackson and Lydia from MTV Teen Wolf. Unfortunately, Colton Haynes left Teen Wolf to pursue other projects. So I can’t wait to see how this relationship turns out

I still got loads to do on this drawing such as finishing off the detail and adding shading etc.

But please let me know what you think of it so far. I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions.
Thanks!

Today.. I reshoot.

Lol.. First time I was so dissappointed with myself that I asked for a reshoot
(which lydia so awesomely aggreed to) the very next day. \o/
And thank Victor for being the awesome saikang and mosquito bait.. Lol!

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It was information and interesting and gave the pupils an idea of what GCSE’s and experience they need to get on the course they want.

You can’t beat having real people coming into school to inform and inspire our young people.

Related articles

• How To Become A Teacher (degreeify.com)
• Secret Teacher: I can’t bear the way my school treats students like statistics (schoolsimprovement.net)

A certain woman named Lydia, a worshiper of God, was listening to us; she was from the city of Thyatira and a dealer in purple cloth. The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul. (Acts 16:14, from the first reading on May 5)

God leads us to the unexpected.  And what is unexpected is Lydia.  Maybe it’s a nickname, since she’s from the region of Lydia, but it is how she will be always remembered.  She would have been an outsider among the Roman elites living in Philippi – yet serving that elite clientele as a dealer in purple cloth.  Such cloth from Thyatira was very expensive – and at times restricted by law as to who could wear it.

Paul was looking for a synagogue but found a place of prayer.  Does this mean there were not 10 men to make an official synagogue?  Or did Paul never make it to the synagogue?  Did Paul assume, when he found these women, that this is where the Spirit led him?  Perhaps he only stopped to ask for directions and suddenly their polite conversation leads to a deep discussion of Jesus and then it is revealed that in this unexpected place the Spirit was at work, for God opened her heart to Paul’s message.

It is a tricky thing following the Spirit.  It requires that we be always open.  But it bears fruit: Lydia becomes the patron of the church in Philippi.

And clearly God felt no compunction because she was a woman.

Always the unexpected.

When I was younger, around five, I lived in a house my grandfather owned, on my mom’s side of the family. I will call this the yellow house. As it was a small house, and technically only had one bed room. The mud room, which was in the back of the house, and was a pretty good size, was turned into a bed room for me and my brother Jason. Jason is younger than me; he is the son my parents wanted.  Not to say they did not want me, but he was always more like them, then I will ever be.

If you were to pull into the driveway of this house, you could pass my house, and it continued on pass a row of apple trees, which made up a very small orchard. The other side of the drive was a cow pasture, which belonged to a neighbor.  Once you were past the apple trees, you came to a trailer in which my Aunt Debbie and Cousin Bo lived from my dad’s side.  Bo is a year older then I am, and during our teenage years, we would both live with our grandmother. Some could say he is like a brother to me.  His father passed away before he was born. I will never forget the day we went to visit the grave site after he got his license. It was the first time he had ever been there.

On the right side of this house, was a small ranch house that was owned, and lived in my Aunt Juanita, and my Uncle Jennings, from my mother side.  They had 3 boys Robbie, Randy, and Kevin. One more house down, my grandmothers sister, lived.  They had a small pig farm. Behind the trailer that was behind my house, and my aunts, and uncles houses, were miles and miles of woods.  Needless to say I grew up, in a small community, surrounded by family, friends, and religion.

One evening, NBC was showing King Kong (the first remake); they were showing it in two nights, splitting the movie into two parts. I remember I was in kindergarten.  I remember this so clearly, that it is almost seems like it is not real.  My Aunt Debbie, wanted to watch the movie, and invited us down to her trailer to watch it with her. Now that I think back on it, I think she was scared to watch it alone.  Towards the end of the second night, my father tells us that he was tired, and was going to back home, and go to bed.  The movie finished, and my mom, my brother, and I started the walk home.  An apple falls from the tree. Then another apple falls from the tree and then another one. Then out of nowhere, and ape jumps out of the tree. So here is my mother, my brother who was 3 at the time, and myself, who was 5. We just gotten done watching King Kong, and here is a monkey. We all screamed, until we realize that it was only my father.  He was dressed in a monkey suit, and had climbed an apple tree, and waited on us.

Sometime shortly after that, my father got a 55 Chevy. It was black, with flames on the side. It was your typical hot rod. One night my parents decided that wanted to go for a ride.  This was very common. I remember us driving around and my mom and dad talking. Every once in a while, I would be part of the conversation, but it was a rare thing.  It was early in the evening, and the sun was just setting.  I remember Journey – Who’s Crying Now was playing. Needless to say I did not know the name of the song or artist until I got older. To this day every time I hear the opening piano to the song, I get crept out. (Just a little bit) We were driving around pretty aimlessly, when my father realized we were close to Jamestown. This meant we were close to Lydia’s Bridge.  What is Lydia’s Bridge you may ask? Lydia’s Bridge is where are local ghost hitchhiker resides. It is under a bridge US-70. I think every town has some sort of story, or legend. The one I always heard growing up, was Lydia and her prom date crashed under the bridge, because of a bad storm. They say if you go past the bridge around prom season, you will Lydia. She will be hitchhiking, trying to get home. If you stop and pick her up, and go to the address she gives you, she will disappear by the time you get there, never able to get home.

The road that went up under the bridge has actually been moved, and there is a new bridge there now. However you can still pull off to the side of the road, and walk to the original bridge on one side. The other side of the bridge is covered in woods, brush and vines that cover the entrance. My father went down to the original bridge as a teenage boy along with his older brother to party, and hangout with some of their friends.  As it was told me, on more than occasion, my father and uncle, and their friends were all drinking, and listening to music. They even had a bonfire going up under the old bridge, when a smell started to fill the chamber. At first they did not notice. The smell of perfume got stronger, and stronger. Then from the other side of the bridge, the side that was covered in vines, they saw a light. It was faint at first, but got brighter and brighter.  By this time, everyone had stopped, and noticed not only the smell, but the light. It being night, and the fact they had it was the haunted bridge, they all took off running, scared half to death.  When they reached home, they told my grandfather, whom I have been told was a very “realistic” person. He did not believe in ghost, UFO’s or anything of the like.  He did not believe them for even a minute.  The three of them went back to the bridge.  When they got there, the bonfire was out and still smoking slightly.  They did not see or hear anything. When they turned around to leave however the perfume hit them, and then they all saw the light.  My grandfather was convinced that someone was playing a joke, and looked best he could but was unable to find anything. So he did what any realistic person would do. He called the cops.  After he called the cops, they drove back out to the bridge, and waited for the cops.  Once the cop got there, they all walked back to the bridge. The cop was telling my grandfather, how they get these calls a few time a year, and that it is always nothing. My grandfather told the cop what had happened.  And wouldn’t you know it the same thing happened again.  They managed to get to the other side of the bridge, but by the time they reached the other side, the smell and the light was now gone.

I think the first time I heard this story, was the night in the car, with us driving around.  I was shocked that my father had almost seen a ghost. I was young, and this scared me.  Within a few minutes my father stopped on the side of the road. He was pretending he saw someone. I did not see anyone. As he got out of the car, he continued to talk to this invisible person, asking her if she needed a ride.  I remember telling my mom, that I thought he was joking.  However my father opens the back door of the car, and pretends that this ghost gets in. My brother really did not understand what was going on. I still maintained that my father was joking.  However that soon changed as he continued to talk to the ghost.  I tried to get in the front seat, but my father would not allow me, saying there wasn’t enough room.  This is when I started to cry.  I remember that he pulled in front of house, and was asking her if this was her house. “Oh no, it isn’t your house “then him pulling off, to find her home. In the meantime my brother and I were cowering to one side of the car, praying that this Ghost we could not see would soon be gone.  We finally ended up at a road off of Groometown road, which was in walking distance of my grandmother’s house. The road was a dead end. My father stopped at the end of the road. Got out of the car and let the ghost out of the car. I remember him acting like she had disappeared when he did this.  We finally pulled off, with the ghost gone. I also remember him trying to bring her back, but saying things like “oh, we were just at your house, where did you go Lydia?” My mom finally interjected, and the ghost was gone.

After writing this all out, I realized that my dad was somewhat og a dick. I joke around, with my kids sometimes, but I would never terrorize them, like my father did us that night.  So yeah I wonder where I get my love of horror from. I think it is a way to remind myself that some things are not real, and that being scared sometimes is OK.

Written by Margaret Dunlap

Things that Mr Bennet enjoys:

Lizzie (proudly): I made a chart! =D

Lydia (peeping into her sister’s room) : Nerrrd.

Lizzie: Get out!

(Chases sister out.)

Lizzie ponders how such distinct individuals as her parents ever got together. To illustrate her point she states the example of what her father did earlier that week.

Mrs Bennet has been asking him to visit their new neighbour all week, insisting that he must introduce their daughters, but Mr Bennet had steadily refused. Then when he did meet the often-discussed Mr Bing Lee while he was getting his membership at Mr Bennet’s club, he kept quiet about it till Mrs Bennet gave up and declared she’s sick of the whole thing and never wanted to hear the name Bing Lee again.

Which is when he decided to share his news…

Lizzie has a hard time believing that her dad actually talked about his daughters at all. So with Charlotte’s help she tries to imagine what such a meeting between the two men would have been like.

(What I want to know is how anyone manages to be a rich, successful medical student.)

The imaginary Mr Bennet does his duty and lists the merits of his three daughters.

Mr Bennet (Charlotte, in a hilarious monotone): My Lizzie is getting an advanced degree in mass communication which dooms her to a life of unemployment so she could use a rich husband like you.

Bing Lee (but actually Lizzie): What if I’m looking for something more in a trophy wife?

Mr Bennet (in Charlotte’s best salesman imitation): Well her sister Jane is quite the fashionable beauty and would be stunning on your arm. And word around campus is that my youngest, Lydia, is a bit of a slut.

Which is when Lydia (totally not eavesdropping) decides to intercede. (Yay, Lydia!)

Is it any wonder these two don’t connect?

So next week their family friends, the Gibsons are “marrying off one of their daughter” which does not improve Mrs Bennet’s mood since all of her daughters remain single. But as Bing Lee is a friend of the groom, here was an opportunity to finally see the man’s face!

And that’s what we look forward to in the next episode. Also, hopefully, a better sign off…

So in the second episode we already see what I love about this series. They didn’t follow the canon by depicting Lizzie’s opinion of Lydia as wise and right. Elizabeth of the 19th century novel was worried about the social consequence of her sister’s heedless behaviour. And in those times the consequences truly were grave. Lizzie of the 21st century has no such excuse. The consequences here are more personal – how it affects Lydia’s self worth, for instance – but all Lizzie can see is irresponsibility and behaviour that she deems below herself. I liked that they gave her flaws beyond her unfair assumptions about Darcy. It rounded her character off for me.

The original Elizabeth had a sister she already saw as a lost cause at fifteen. At the end of the novel we see that Kitty, who was seventeen, was more tractable and therefore given a chance to improve herself. But for that Lydia had to be kept away from her. By the last page, Lydia had been effectively separated from her family and no one really gave much thought to her personal happiness, which Elizabeth knew was dubious at best. I’m not saying Elizabeth was thoughtless, she was simply a product of her time. Also her influence on her headstrong sister had never been very great since Mrs Bennet always took Lydia’s side and encouraged the weaknesses in her youngest daughter’s character.

LBD so far has given us a slightly different family, where Lydia is headstrong and maybe ‘wild’ but not stupid and their mother at least seems to be equally critical of all her daughters, though Mr Bennet seems to be as indifferent a father as ever.

Till next time, people!

In what seemed like only an instant, Selene was standing outside Skuldafn with Odahviing.

“Oh!” she exclaimed with a start.

“Welcome back, Dovahkiin.”

“How did I get here?”

“You simply appeared, no doubt sent back from Sovngarde by the gods. Your Thu’um is the greatest, Dovahkiin. I owe you all allegiance, and I await your command.”

“Then take me home.” She climbed onto his neck, and he took flight.

As they passed the Throat of the World in the wee hours of the morning, they were joined by at least a dozen dragons.

“Land here for a moment, my friend,” Selene requested, and Odahviing flew low over the mountain and came to rest before the Word Wall, where Paarthurnax sat peering at them. The other dragons landed on the rocks surrounding the wall and began to chant.

“Alduin is fallen!”

“The mighty overlord vanquished!”

“Alduin is fallen!”

“The Dovahkiin his slayer!”

“Alduin is fallen!”

“His Thu’um is silenced!”

“Alduin is fallen!”

“All hail Dovahkiin!”

“Greetings, Dovahkiin,” Paarthurnax said amicably.

“Greetings, Master. It seems we’ve gained some allies.”

“You speak true. Not all dragons will be your enemy now, Dovahkiin. Many have turned from Alduin and have come to learn the Way of the Voice. I fear many will falter, however.”

Selene turned to face the other dragons. “Hail, friends!” she called. “Remember this day, the day you were freed of the World-Eater’s tyranny. Follow Paarthurnax, not as a master but as a mentor. Prove to the world that dragon, man, and mer can live in harmony; but know this: if you cause harm to man or mer, I will vanquish you.”

“All hail the Dovahkiin!” they chanted.

Selene turned back to Paarthurnax. “I can’t promise others will be as forgiving as I am, especially the Blades. They sent me to kill you.”

“The Blades are wise not to trust me. We were made to dominate. The will to power is in our blood. You feel it in yourself, do you not? But which is better: to be born good or to overcome one’s evil nature through great effort?”

“That’s why I’m giving these dragons a chance and why I won’t harm you. I don’t expect the Blades to ever reach this peak, but just beware.”

“I will, Dovahkiin. If you need anything from me, I will be here. I do so hope to see you again.”

“And I, you. Goodbye, Master.” She turned to Odahviing, who waited nearby. “You ready?”

“Let us leave this place.” She climbed on the red dragon’s back; he nodded to Paarthurnax and then took flight.

“Will you go back to Paarthurnax?” she asked when they were on their way back to Dragonsreach.

“I will endeavor not to cause harm to you and yours, but I will not go to Paarthurnax. The teachings of the Way of the Voice are too strict. I will go my own way. But if you ever need me, you need only call, and I will come to your aid.”

* * *

Only Vignar and a few guards were on the Great Porch when Odahviing dropped her off just after dawn. She said goodbye to Odahviing and approached the jarl, who grasped her shoulders.

“You did it, Dragonborn! A true hero. The world owes you a great debt.”

“I’d settle for a tankard of mead and a nap,” she replied with a chuckle. “Any idea where my husband is?”

“They’ve been keeping him busy at Jorrvaskr. I’d try there.”

“Thanks, my Jarl.” She dashed through the palace, down the stairs, and up to Jorrvaskr, where she met Brynjolf coming through the door. He threw his arms around her and picked her up, and she hugged him tightly. “I missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too, although the Companions wouldn’t let me sit around and fret.”

Selene looked around and saw Lydia, Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela standing on the steps down into the mead hall; she was surprised to see Karliah with them. “Karliah? What are you doing here?” she asked the Dunmer as she reached out to hug her.

“Are you kidding? I came as quickly as I could.”

“We all felt it when you went to Sovngarde,” Brynjolf told her.

“You what?”

“The Nightingales and the pack. It was as though a presence we weren’t really aware of just disappeared. It felt as if you had died.”

“Oh, my.”

“When I felt you disappear, all I could think of was getting to Brynjolf,” said Karliah. “I went through the Twilight Sepulcher, found a horse to steal, and came right here. You were back in Nirn before I made it.”

“We knew when you killed Alduin, too,” Farkas mentioned. “At least, we think that’s what it was. There was this big rumble of thunder across the whole sky, which was completely clear. Not long after that was when we felt you again.”

“And how did you handle my disappearance?” she asked Brynjolf.

“Not well,” he admitted.

“Don’t worry,” said Farkas. “We kept him real busy while you were gone.”

“They did. They trained with me a lot and got me good and drunk.”

“The two most important things in the life of a Companion,” Lydia said with a smile.

“You look tired, sister,” Aela noted.

“I am.”

“Get some rest,” Karliah instructed her. “I’m staying at the Bannered Mare. Come find me later and we’ll celebrate.”

Selene and Brynjolf bid farewell to their friends and headed back toward Breezehome. Several people stopped them along the way to offer their congratulations. They finally made it to the house, and Selene dropped her bow, quiver, and knapsack on the floor with relief. Then she reached for her husband. He took her in his arms and held her closely, and she laid her head on his shoulder and relished his touch.

“You feel so wonderful,” she whispered.

“I thought I would never hold you again.”

She pulled back and kissed him, opening her mouth to his and drinking him in, moaning softly. She pulled off her gloves, and he helped her out of her cuirass; then she tugged on his tunic and slipped it over his head. Boots and breeches were discarded as well, and they lay down on the rug and embraced each other. Selene reached between his legs, and Brynjolf gasped as she stroked him. “No teasing today,” she pleaded, “I just want you inside me.”

She lay on her back, and Brynjolf knelt between her legs and slipped inside her. She played her hands over his muscular back and bottom and moaned, the heat growing with every thrust. He whispered words of love in her ear and urged her to scream for him, driving harder and more insistently into her until her moans became cries of pleasure. Ecstasy surged through her, and she dug her nails into his back and moved in tandem with him as his moans escalated to match hers. Her climax was still pulsing when he released inside her, throwing back his head and crying out her name. Selene held him as he rode the wave of rapture until he finally relaxed. He lay on top of her, breathless and spent, and Selene stroked his back and kissed his cheek. He rose up and placed his lips on hers.

“I love you, wife,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” He moved off and lay on his back, and Selene curled under his arm and laid her head on his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was hypnotic, and she found herself drifting. “We should probably move upstairs,” she said with a yawn. “I think I may fall asleep.”

The next thing she knew, she was in bed, dressed in her small clothes and Brynjolf’s tunic, and he was asking her if she wanted anything to eat. She was so tired, she barely even looked up. “I’ll eat in a little while,” she muttered. “I’m not ready to get up.”

And so she slept. She was vaguely aware of Brynjolf sitting next to her, lying down from time to time, and occasionally offering her a drink of water, but she was so tired, her body so heavy, that she wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep. After what was surely all night, she finally opened her eyes and sat up.

“I was starting to think you were going to sleep forever,” Brynjolf said. He sat next to her, book in his lap.

“Why? How long did I sleep?”

“Four days.”

Selene’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

“I figured you needed to catch up on all the rest you missed since you started out to defeat Alduin, so I just let you sleep. Karliah left a couple of days ago, saying you were in good hands and she needed to get back. I think she just missed Rune. Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

She followed him downstairs, where he cooked scrambled eggs, and they sat at the table with the eggs, some bread, cheese, and dried beef, washing it all down with warm mead. Selene ate everything he put in front of her and still wanted more. She got up and dug through the pantry, produced a couple of apples, and ate them as well.

“What now?” Brynjolf asked as she finished the second apple.

“Well, I desperately want a bath. After that, I think we should go to Windhelm. The moot is a fortnight away, and Ulfric will want to prepare. Besides, we have a house to break in. We can rest and relax there for a few days before we have to leave for Solitude.”

“Do you still want to give Lydia and Vilkas Breezehome?”

Selene nodded. “They go back and forth between here and Jorrvaskr, and I know it’s inconvenient for them. We’re hardly ever here; we can stay at Jorrvaskr when we’re in town and leave the house to them.”

“Sounds good to me. We can talk to them about it today, box up our things, and leave for Windhelm tomorrow.”

“First, I have plans for you.” She took his hand, pulled him up from his chair and led him back up toward the bedroom.

Brynjolf sighed heavily. “That’s all you want from me. I’m nothing but a sex toy to you.”

Selene giggled. “You’re so full of shit.”

He stopped and pulled her to him. “You haven’t said that in a long time. I missed it. I missed you.”

“I won’t go away again.”

“I don’t mean just the last few days.”

“I know what you meant. I didn’t even realize I had pulled away, but I won’t shut you out again. I promise.”

* * *

It was just past lunchtime when the Windhelm guard let Selene and Brynjolf into Hjerim for the first time and handed Selene the keys. Jorleif and his men had done an excellent job cleaning and furnishing the house, and she was glad. She didn’t have the time or the inclination to decorate a house where they would only spend a small portion of their time. Everything looked great, but they didn’t spend a lot of time looking around. Brynjolf’s query, “Where’s the bedroom?” ended their tour, and they spent the rest of the day and night breaking the new bed in.

Selene couldn’t get enough of her husband. Alduin had preoccupied most of her time and energy for months and hadn’t left room for much else. But the World-Eater and the baggage that came with him were gone now, and she found many hopes, dreams, and pleasures that had been set aside beginning to catch her attention again. Although she had never stopped loving Brynjolf—nowhere near it—she found herself falling for him all over again, and he was doing the same. They flirted, teased, and played, and they made love like they never had before. It was with great reluctance that they got up and dressed when morning came.

Claiming no interest in what would surely be a day of “political crap,” Brynjolf stayed at the house when Selene left for the Palace of the Kings. When she walked out the door, she found her guard had been joined by two others. A pair flanked the door, and the third stood at the top of the steps leading down to the walkway below.

The one who had let her in yesterday—Wyl, she thought his name was—nodded. “Good morning, Stormblade.”

“Is all this security really necessary?” Selene asked, assuming they had increased the guard simply because she was in the house.

“I’m afraid so, my lady. Oslaf will escort you to the palace, and you’ll be briefed there.”

Oslaf, the guard on the steps, drew his war axe and remained extra-vigilant as he led Selene to the palace. She noticed that security was heavy around the Shatter-Shield house as well. At the palace, she found the guard had also tripled. Selene wasted no time getting inside to Ulfric, who paced back and forth in the war room, arguing with Galmar and Ralof, who was wearing the bearskin uniform of a Stormcloak officer.

“We have already postponed the moot once,” the jarl growled. “I’ll not request to put it off again. Besides, it’s too late. How many have already left for Solitude?”

“Then we’ll track them down on the road,” Galmar declared.

“It’s not just the jarls,” Ralof reminded the housecarl. “Every noble in Skyrim will want to be present for the coronation.”

“It’s too dangerous for Ulfric to leave the palace at this time!”

“Staying at the palace didn’t stop this attack, now, did it?” said Ulfric. “We’ve been through this before, Galmar. You know I refuse to hide behind the palace walls.”

“What happened?” Selene broke in.

“An attempt was made on the jarl’s life last night,” Ralof told her.

“And now Galmar wants to postpone the moot again,” Ulfric added.

“Ralof?” Selene asked.

Ralof shook his head. “Too much has already been put in place. I believe with a change in our security plan, we’ll be fine.”

“I’m not willing to take that risk!” Galmar bellowed.

“It’s not your choice,” Ralof replied firmly.

“He’s going to be more of a target when he becomes High King anyway,” Selene pointed out. “You’ll have to get used to incidents like this and last-minute changes in strategy.” She looked quickly at Ralof. “Wait, are you Captain of the Guard?”

Ralof smiled proudly. “Promotion.”

“Don’t change the subject!” Galmar blustered.

Selene smiled at Galmar. “You are in such a state! Take a breath; calm down.” She turned to Ulfric. “I’m assuming this argument has been going on for several hours?”

“You’re correct.”

“And there’s no point in my trying to talk you into staying here?”

Ulfric glared her in the eye. “None.”

“Do you trust Ralof to keep you safe?”

“With my life.”

“It just might come to that!” Galmar shouted.

“Then that’s what it will be.” Selene sighed with frustration, and Ulfric raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you think I should stay.”

“You’re right in saying staying here isn’t as safe as Galmar would like, but there will be so many people in Solitude.”

“That won’t change if we put it off another half a year.”

“No, it won’t. I trust Ralof with my life, too, so Ulfric, if you’re set on this, you’re the jarl, and we’ll obey.”

“Damn it!” Galmar snarled, storming from the room.

“Did I miss something?” Selene asked. “He’s even more worked up than usual.”

Ulfric looked over at Ralof, who nodded and left the room, and then back at Selene. “Galmar took an arrow for me yesterday.”

Selene’s mouth dropped open. “An archer got all the way into the palace?”

“To the training yard wall.”

“He didn’t look hurt.”

“He wasn’t, not badly. His armor took the brunt of it.”

“But there’s more to it.”

“Dagmar has been pushing him to retire.”

“His wife? She’s never pushed him to do anything.”

“Aye, she’s kept so quiet all these years, half of Windhelm didn’t even know he was married, but now she speaks. He turned sixty a month ago, and she insists Galmar is getting too old to defend me and himself properly.”

“I’ll bet yesterday’s events went over well in the Stone-Fist household.”

“I believe she suggested that if he couldn’t protect me here, he couldn’t protect me on the road.”

“But he did protect you here.”

“It doesn’t matter; I’ve made my decision, and they will both abide by it. We will go through with this.” Ulfric paused and studied her face, weighing his words. “There is something else I need to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

“I’m to wed at summer’s end.”

The announcement hit Selene like a punch in the gut. For a moment, it was as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. When she did draw breath, it came in the form of a sob, and then tears started streaming down her cheeks. Ulfric wrapped his arms around her, and she laid her head on his chest while she wept. No coherent thoughts went through her mind, only sadness and loss. When she had thoroughly soaked his tunic, she came back to herself and realized what she was doing. She pulled back, not meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I reacted that way. I guess even after all that has happened, I still tend to think of you as mine.”

He reached out and raised her chin gently. “I am yours,” he confessed, gazing into her eyes earnestly, “and I always will be. But I’m a practical man. You married another, and I need an heir.”

“I understand, Ulfric. I really do, and I want you to be happy. The news is just very fresh. Who is it?”

“Nilsine Shatter-Shield.”

“That explains all the guards around her house. I like Nilsine; she’s a sweet girl. So she’ll be going to Solitude with us?”

“Aye.”

Selene nodded and stepped back. “I, uh, know you probably want to discuss the moot, but I need some time, Ulfric. I’ll be back later today.”

“Take your time, Selene.”

Without a word, she turned and left the war room, heading back to Hjerim to get her priorities straight.