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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1072643-Ceramic-Game-of-Thrones-Finale
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Horror/Scary · #2284649
Adventures In Living With The Mythical
#1072643 added June 14, 2024 at 12:59pm
Restrictions: None
Ceramic Game of Thrones Finale
          Crash wanted to keep the throne as a Halloween decoration. Valyur said it was tainted and should be destroyed. I agreed with him, but not out of some runistic or gnomish thing but because I just thought it was gaudy. It looked like it had been pulled right out of a Motley Crue video from the eighties. All that was missing was leather pants and hairspray.

          It took Valyur a bit of time to recover his compsure afterwards. I let him cry himself out, though at the time no one understood exactly why or what I was doing. “I’m sorry,” Valyur said then. “You meaties must think me crazy. It’s just you see, Kheid Falkirk was…” he gasped, and bit his lip like he was going to cry again.

          “He was your child,” I finished for him.

          Everyone looked at me. “He’s the only one who called him Falkirk. He’s the only one who treated Khied with mercy, and he had plenty of shots to kill Khied earlier with his pistol, but didn’t ever take them.”

          Everyone nodded in understanding. Kris and Sean helped each other to the door. Zack was lifted by Mitch and huddled along. I slowly pulled myself into a sitting position. “Meaty,” Valyur said to me, “I owe you.”

          I waved a hand at the dust. “That was perhaps the hardest thing anyone has ever had to do. We’re even.”

          Valyur shook his head. “My family has wronged yours. Repeatedly. I will stay here until I make it right.”

          I stood and stretched. Then braced myself against a tree as my bad leg reminded me that it didn’t like all of this work. The gnome, I’ll give him that attempted to hold me up, but it was laughable at best, like a three year old trying to help his drunk father to the couch. “Thanks,” I said, moving my leg slowly. “It will work itself out.”

          “The guys may not want you around,” I said. “No offense, but they just spent time as a gnome against their will. Crash was nearly killed by one. You may bring memories up they don’t want.”

          “Ey! And that’s why I gotta stick around, meaty. Cause they need a good gnome to make up for the bad one.”

          I shook my head, figuring Crash would put his foot down and that would be the end of it. However, Crash seemed to agree. “Besides,” Crash said. “Technically, this is all your fault.”

          We were in the kitchen. Crash had taken a shower and was holding his coffee cup as he stood in the doorway. I glared at him for a moment. “Why is this my fault?”

          “It was your bad joke that started all of this. You’re the one who had to buy a lawn gnome.”

          I gritted my teeth. “It was supposed to be a joke, and it was going to be funny.”

          Crash smirked, “well, if you say so,” he said. “I just think if you want to have weird lawn ornaments, there are better things to get. Like werewolves for instance.” Of course, he’d say that. For Crash, it always went back to werewolves.

          “What about Zack, Sean and Kris,” I asked. “I bet they’d hate the lawn gnome.”

          “What,” Zack asked, shocked that I’d even suggest such a thing. “I love Valyur. Don’t you dare get rid of him.”

          He came in from his bedroom and stepped into the kitchen for a drink before going back to his room. “And yes, Kris and Sean feel the same way.”

          So, that is how we ended up with a blue hatted gnome. He sometimes moves around. He’ll sleep beneath a tree. Garden on occasion, or clean up. The red hatted gnomes, well Mitch still hunts them, but now it’s for sport. Larry doesn’t care of course, that dragon tells us to just leave him some for dinner.

          Things around here are getting back to normal. My leg still hurts but I can walk on it. Crash goes back to jogging with Elouise who said she ‘misses all the good stuff’ when it comes to our adventures. “Next time tell them varmints to wake me up. I’d love to play.”

          Valyur for his effort puts up a brave front. But on occasion he’ll stand beneath the moonlight and weep softly. I can almost hear it in my room, since he likes to stand on the corner at night. I’ll go out there occasionally, and sit with him. Listen to old stories of Falkirk before he turned. “You know he used to love you meaties.” He told me one night. “He liked to sit below the window so you could see him.”

          The way he explained it, Falkirk wanted to help us so badly. I suppose that’s where he went wrong, in a way. You can desire to help someone so much, that you do more harm than good, and you can even end up destroying them. I guess that’s what Kheid’s banishment was supposed to teach him. I do wish he listened when everyone kept telling him that.

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1072643-Ceramic-Game-of-Thrones-Finale