#;; thinking about how she made the great masters turn on each other and the. crucified 163 of them in retribution for the children

[kaerinio]

🐉

[chosonore]

part two | yearning

yearning [noun. a strong feeling of wishing for something, especially something that you cannot have or get easily]

pairing: kamo noritoshi/f!reader

summary: your relationship with noritoshi was like a game of cat and mouse; no matter how hard you tried to escape from him, he would always find his way back to you.

wordcount: 8.2k

content/warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, language, somewhat suggestive, noritoshi is kind of a dick but i promise it gets better so please don’t lose faith in him, we’re somewhat following the timeline of the anime/manga so spoilers ahead!! but what follows afterwards is purely pulled out of my ass lol, lowercase intended [UNEDITED]

a/n: hello, here i am again with a super long chapter ( ˙꒳​˙ ) it is so incredibly messy and i’m so sorry if it gets confusing for you; this just really shows how sporadic my writing process is, i have some guidelines that i follow but sometimes venture off my path when i suddenly get a new idea. nevertheless, i hope you can somewhat enjoy this chapter. feedback or just your thoughts are much appreciated! for those that are waiting for the ~steamy~ content, it is coming next chapter hehe. as always, stay safe everyone (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

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"noritoshi, could you just stay quiet today? i'm really not in the mood," you sighed as you entered the training grounds. the exhaustion from the mission the day before was clinging onto your bones, heavy and admonishingly. the normally exciting sparring lessons seemed dreadful, knowing that all students were to practice today. to practice the balance within the team, utahime had claimed the week prior as she was reprimanding your lack of discipline when it came to noritoshi. stubbornness ran in the family; you refused to back down when someone was hurting your pride. said stubbornness came back to bite you - instead of taking a break to fully recover, you claimed that you would be fine with the help of your reverse curse techniques.

as the days came and went, the yearly tournament slowly approached. after the devastating defeat last year, everyone was on edge and determined to beat tokyo tech. well, that excluded todo, he was just looking for stronger opponents it seemed. noritoshi, on other hand, appeared to be more agitated than usual - if he wasn't barking orders at the other students, he would criticize their fighting styles. you knew he wanted to win the tournament at all costs, to prove himself worthy of the position as the kamo clan head. but he was too rigid about it, rarely accepting help and haughty when questioned. you've been avoiding him as best as you could and of all days, today had to be one where you could not. opponents would be swapped every ten minutes so everyone could practice with another student - facing noritoshi for ten minutes was easy. so you thought. 

"can't promise anything, princess," noritoshi retorted smugly and pat your head like he usually did when he was trying to get a reaction out of you. life always found a way to prove you wrong. for some reason, noritoshi had made it his goal to get under your skin as much as possible on this particular day and it worked. it was childish to engage in this banter but you couldn’t help it. the feeling of not being taken serious by noritoshi had always bothered you. it almost seemed like he wasn’t considering you equal to him, always looking down on you. being stressed wasn’t good, your mother had always reminded you, so it was best to remain calm and collected.

stay calm and collected, calm and collected, you repeated in your head. gritting your teeth, you slapped his hand away and jogged away from him towards todo. at least he'd leave you alone while you were near todo - probably to avoid todo getting mad at him and not wanting to hear about takada-chan again. he was the ultimate and fool-proof shield. the taller male was walking at a leisurely pace in front of you, leading the group as per usual. you caught up to him, slowing down so it didn't look like you just jogged all the way here. away from the menace that was noritoshi. todo glanced at you suspiciously before subtly turning around. a guilty groan left your lips. of course he knew, he always knew. as the unlikely friendship was blossoming between the two of you, you rapidly realized that todo was far more perceptive than he would ever let on. even though he took lighthearted jabs at you, he didn't care enough to intervene; it was a mutual understanding. in a way, you appreciated that he treated you like everyone else, not once had he tried to approach you about your deteriorating relationship with noritoshi.

upon seeing the unlikely pair, miwa speed up as well to join them. even though todo scared her to no end, your presence eased her nerves a little. after all, you weren’t scared to put him back in his place when he was being dramatic. she nudged you gently in greeting, nervously clasping her sword in front of her. "do you think we'll win this year's competition? we've been training a lot, so i hope i can show off some of my skills."

"never say never? even if we lose, it's a good experience to learn from," you replied wryly. while the students of the kyoto tech were strong and coordinated well with each other, noritoshi and you could easily destroy the balance. he didn't know when to stop, persistently pushing your boundaries and you fell for his tricks every time. as long as you could work out a strategy that involved working alone or with a partner that was not him, you'd be fine. your safest bet was to work with miwa since you were both sword users and have practiced together extensively. if noritoshi and you exhibited enough chaos to tear the world apart, miwa and you represented the perfect balance when fighting.

"you're our secret weapon though!" miwa exclaimed excitedly, elbowing you gently. "no one knows you can heal, so we'll use that to our advantage."

"uh…"

"what? don't tell me you-"

"i've asked yuta about advice before," you interrupted her, scratching your head sheepishly. "he's one of the very few people who can use reverse cursed techniques, so i asked him to give me some pointers and how to use it more to my advantage."

when yuta participated in the competition the year before, you were absolutely mesmerized by his level of skills and how he had supposedly mastered them in such a short amount of time. of course you hadn't told anyone that you were talking to him - everyone was still salty about the defeat and would, undoubtedly, have crucified you on sight. truthfully, you didn't understand why everyone was so hellbent about hating the students of your sister school. weren't you all colleagues in a sense? yuta was nice and respectful towards you, always trying his best to explain you how to implement his tips. along the way, you might have developed a tiny, fleeting crush on him but never acted on it. it was only a crush after all and you didn’t feel certain about it not being a mere distraction from your feelings for noritoshi. perhaps it was the way he made you feel, the way he treated you like noritoshi used to before. you couldn't even deny it, you missed your old 'toshi. when you looked at him now, it hurt you, seeing all the traces of gentleness having left him.

"really? you never told me! what is he like? he looked like he was really nice but there were moments where i was really scared of him. well maybe not him but rather… that curse."

"uh, yuta is actually not that scary. he's really helpful and always there for you when you need advice. i think i've improved a lot since we've started talking." you made a mental note to thank yuta again if you got to see each other anytime soon. apparently, gojo had sent him on a mission overseas a few months back and ever since, your exchanged messages grew to be rather sporadic. still, you appreciated that he made an effort to text you every now and then to let you know how he was doing and in turn, also asked about your wellbeing.

"fraternizing with the enemy, i see," noritoshi's voice rang out beside you, dangerously close to your ear. it made you jump in surprise, not having sensed him earlier - your hand automatically shot out to hit him, only for him to catch it in time. you shot him an annoyed glare. beside you, miwa and todo glanced at each other, silently agreeing to ignore the squarreling pair.

"i don't see how that's any of your business."

"it is if it jeopardizes our chance at winning," noritoshi narrowed eyes at you in suspicion. of course he didn't trust you, you were nothing but a mild inconvenience to him. you didn't owe him an explanation, not today and not in the future. any friendship or friendliness between you was long gone. refusing to look into his eyes, you attempted to tug your hand away from him but instead accomplished the exact opposite as noritosh tightened his grip. "what did you tell him?"

"he only helped me with training, that's all! it doesn't concern you anyways so-"

noritoshi was irritated, you could tell. the anger was rolling off him in waves, intimidating even you. why was he so annoyed by the fact that you asked yuta for advice? it wasn't even farfetched - the only other alternatives were gojo and ieiri, both of which you hadn't mustered up the courage to ask yet. wasn't it in everyone's best interest for you to become a great healer? noritoshi would know best - he was the driving force behind your ambition, the sole reason why you worked to the brink of exhaustion just to show him that you didn’t need his help, that you were worthy of a higher rank.

"i don't want you to hang out with the tokyo tech kids, especially not with him."

"wait, what?" you gaped at him in disbelief. "is this just because you have personal beef with some of them? leave me out of this, i just want to improve and you don't get to tell me what to do." with that you shoved the taller male, stomping past the other students towards utahime who was looking at you in disapproval. you missed the upset frown on noritoshi's face as he followed you, wanting to reach out but stopping midway. it wasn't the right time or place to let you know why he didn't want you around them, not yet. seeing you hang out and being relaxed with everyone else but him hurt him, oh how it hurt him. he wanted you close to him, only see him, talk about him excitedly and with stars in your eyes like you did when you talked about yuta. and yet, he couldn't let you know. the only way to keep you orbiting around him was to play these silly games, rile you up and drawing a reaction out of you. it was the only way to make you pay attention to him. and so he did.

calm and collected, my ass, you thought two hours later. of course todo and noritoshi had completely eviscerated the rest of the students with no mercy, leaving everyone in a sour mood. whatever strategy your team would have for the tournament was probably thrown out the window, the two of them would take care of it anyways. not that they would stand a chance against yuta.

“yuta isn’t here?” the disappointment in your voice was palpable. you did look forward to meeting yuta again, thinking that he might have come home from his overseas trip for the tournament. but you supposed getting to know the other students wasn’t too bad, you were interested in the first years and their skills. they certainly looked more approachable than your classmates. miwa told you how todo and mai had met two of them a few weeks prior and promptly started a senseless fight that was then stopped by the second years. it landed them in the water as utahime gave them a lecture - while she didn't tolerate the childish behaviour, everyone else seemed to turn a blind eye to it. noritoshi had scoffed in disapproval upon hearing the news, uttering something about not wanting to associate with dimwits like them. 

"nope, he's still overseas. it doesn't matter anyways, we'll still beat you without him," maki replied with a confident grin, arms crossed as she took in the kyoto tech group of students. regardless, you broke out in a sprint and jumped, engulfing her in a warm hug. while you two didn't talk as much as yuta and you did, you were still friends. she was a source of inspiration to you, a master of all kinds of weapons whom you deeply admired. maki gave you some awkward pats before pulling away to introduce you to the first years - megumi, yuji and nobara. the younger students were wary of you, most likely because of their encounter with todo and mai. you couldn't hold it against them, their intensity and stubbornness was something you had to deal with daily after all. you silently cursed the two brash students before taking a deep breath and extending your hand to the ones in front of you.

“hi, i’m y/n, nice to meet you,” you introduced yourself with a friendly smile, visibly relieved when they shook your hand and introduced themselves. especially nobara seemed to be eager to get to know you, fussing over your uniform and inquiring about your skills. you were glad they welcomed you, not wanting to cause any more trouble than would undoubtedly arise for the duration of the tournament. while megumi seemed to be cautious and more reserved around you, yuuji and nobara already treated you like their friend. subconsciously, you envied them for the wholesome friendship dynamic as it reminded you of what you used to have with noritoshi. the fleeting thoughts left as soon as they made an appearance in your head, disappearing when nobara grasped your hand and pulled you towards the buildings to show you around. unbothered by the reactions of your fellow kyoto tech classmates, you followed her - their energy was stifling and the tournament didn't start until later in the day anyways. it was useless to stay with your group and practice, you'd only overexert yourself.

“y/n.” noritoshi called after you sternly, glaring at you when you turned to look at him - ever since stepping foot into the estate, he was moody and more serious than usual.  it was probably him being tense about the tournament, the spirit to win deeply ingrained in his bones. none of the other students seemed to be bothered by the presence of the tokyo tech students, so why should he? ignoring him, you continued your journey until you felt a force harshly pulling you back by the fabric of your hoodie. intuitively, you could tell it was noritoshi. 

"noritoshi, let me go," you snapped at him irritated, struggling to free yourself from his grasp.

"we have things to discuss, did you forget that?"

"i don't want to," like a petulant child, you gave him an angry look as you stood your ground. tension filled the space between you, tethering on the edge of anger. why was a normal conversation never possible with him? and why did he treat you like a child? you let up when megumi appeared to your side, shooting noritoshi a warning glance as he attempted to remove his hand from yours. even though he didn't know what your relationship was like, he stepped in regardless - you were impressed by him. even if noritoshi remained calm, he was a menace to deal with afterwards.

"she said no, didn't you hear-"

"get your hands off of her." noritoshi growled at megumi, the sudden influx of cursed energy that was surrounding him made all students in close proximity freeze. you couldn't hide you shock either, he had never been this threatening towards someone else. he might push boundaries to the extreme, knowing that he could away with it due to his bloodline and family name but he had never outright threatened anyone that didn't do his bidding. with those words he pulled you towards him, wrapping his arm around your waist protectively. paralyzed, you blankly stared at him. his cursed energy was suffocating you, never had you experienced this amount of pressure. not only that, the unusual closeness set your heart ablaze, burning down the walls that you'd carefully constructed around it.

"you're being ridiculous," megumi challenged the older male, unbothered by the strong pressure. he didn't understand why noritoshi was making a big deal out of this. surely he didn't consider megumi a threat? noritoshi's hold on you strengthened and with panic you realized the blood-red markings appearing on his face, he was being serious, oh god he was going to rip megumi apart-

"hey hey, stop it you two," panda's voice snapped you out of your trance and seemingly noritoshi's as well as he wacked his arm. "you just got here and you're already stirring up trouble, are you not ashamed?"

noritoshi simply scoffed and let you go, his cursed energy dissipating with the movement. the rest of the students were as stunned as you were, no one daring to make another move until the tension evaporated. todo was the only one who looked rather annoyed, smacking the back of noritoshi’s head as he started to tell him off - noritoshi, however, kept walking past him towards the dorms that they were staying at for the week. it was almost like there was steam coming off his head as a result of holding his anger in. nobara gaped at you in surprise, pointing at you accusingly. “i didn’t know that was your boyfriend!”

you spluttered in horror, quickly reaching out to her to try and cover her mouth so she wouldn’t say anything incriminating. “n- no you got it wrong! we’re not together, not at all! i hate noritoshi,” you floundered, hastily trying to set the record straight. nobara didn’t look like she believed you, pushing your hands away while giggling. she wiggled her eyebrows at you, whispering at you about how lucky you were to snag such a handsome guy although she thought that he really didn’t have to overreact like that because megumi was harmless. covering your face in embarrassment, you turned away from her and caught a glimpse of an amused todo winking at you.

“i’m serious, nobara!" whatever whining you did, the two of them didn’t let up, making you wonder what you ever did wrong to deserve this scrutiny. as your last resort you grabbed nobara's hand, dragging her along towards a secluded area in the estate. being the subject of the earlier conflict was already troubling enough, you didn't want the other students to get the wrong idea by her wild speculations. nobara was still giggling when you arrived, pinching your arm playfully.

“c’mon, it’s impossible that there is not something between you! did you see the look on his face? i don’t think he would have cared had it been any other person,” she gushed excitedly, her face lighting up in glee. with no doubt, nobara enjoyed poking her nose in other people's business, seemingly having a knack for sniffing out the hidden. a dejected sigh left your lip. a younger you would have jumped in happiness after finally receiving noritoshi's attention but the present you knew better. there wasn't more to it, you told yourself and yet, a tiny sliver of doubt made its way into your mind. could he really have been so bothered by another male being so close to you? todo didn't count, obviously.

"no, there's nothing to it, i promise. we don't have the best relationship anymore and mostly fight. i mean yeah his reaction was really uncharacteristic but…"

"anymore?"

"noritoshi and me grew up together and were childhood friends. i- i didn't agree with his antics as we grew up and we drifted apart after that and now… hate each other? he’s just unbearable and we don’t get along. everyone at kyoto tech knows that so they’re mostly ignoring our fights. and it’s childish, i know, i know..." 

“are you sure? like super duper sure? because it didn’t look like it to me,” nobara contemplatively rubbed her chin. the wheels were turning in her head, something didn’t quite add up. even at first glance, whatever you said made her feel doubtful.

“trust me, i wish it was different too. i mean i used to like him a lot and it makes me sad and i wish we could at least be civil around each other. but he just makes me so angry,” your ramblings stopped nobara’s thinking - so that’s what it was. normally, nobara really didn’t care about other people’s business but this was too juicy to pass up. how far could she push it to make you realize?

why was the layout of all these buildings so confusing? and why were there so many buildings to begin with? you’ve been wandering around for at least five minutes now and you still couldn’t figure out where the hell yuji’s and megumi’s rooms were supposed to be. they didn’t even have any signs around. at this point, it didn’t matter if it took longer than anticipated - the others could wait. nobara had insisted on having a small get together the night before, to get to know each other and play some card games. you couldn’t refuse, it’s been a while since you just hung out with friends without any quarreling. there was no harm in getting to know you future colleagues, even though your classmates were treating them like criminals. so instead of going herself and much to your dismay, nobara had sent you to fetch the other two students, claiming that you would be fine if you just stuck to the measly sketch she’d made for you. most of the rooms you’ve already knocked at remained empty so you couldn’t be far from their rooms, you concluded.

stopping in front of the last remaining door of the corridor, you took a deep breath. this had to be one of their rooms. slowly, you raised your hand to knock at the door when it was suddenly yanked open, startling you in the process and making you drop the piece of paper you were holding. what you weren’t expecting was coming face to face with noritoshi who looked at you as equally confused. he was the last person you wanted to see today, not wanting to confront him about his actions earlier. you couldn’t wrap your head around it; why had he overreacted in such a way? it wasn’t like you were in danger or in need of protection. for a brief moment, you thought that there was a sliver of strange possessiveness. you couldn’t quite place the emotions in his eyes, it made you shudder.

“oh uh, sorry. i was looking for yuji and megumi and this is very obviously not one of their rooms. sorry again. i’ll take my leave,” you awkwardly stammered, taking a step back. noritoshi’s figure was towering over you and in a rare moment, you felt intimidated by him. perhaps it was the dark look in his eyes that told you that he was not thrilled by what you just told him. before you could react, he swiftly grabbed your arm and pulled you inside his room, trapping you against the door.

“w- wait!” you protested weakly, pushing at his chest until his face slowly came into your vision. you couldn’t help but stare at his lips, watching them move as he was talking to you. your ears were ringing, you couldn’t tell what he was saying. the close proximity was suffocating and yet you craved more, not wanting to let him go.

“y/n? did you hear me?” 

“huh?” snapping out of your trance, you looked at him dumbfounded. noritoshi was frowning at you, slightly concerned about your state as you didn’t answer him. just then you finally got a proper look at him. it was a rare sight; noritoshi wearing casual clothes, a simple oversized shirt and shorts, and his hair down without the bindings. feeling nostalgic, your heart clenched. he looked like his old self, the ‘toshi that you loved dearly.

“i said, i don’t want you around them. i don’t- i don’t like seeing you with them,” noritoshi repeated with a strained voice. he placed his hands beside your head, inching closer to you.

“what- noritoshi, you don’t get to tell me who i can hang out with! last time i checked, we’re not even friends anymore so where do you get the idea that you can do this? what’s the big deal ab-” you didn’t get to finish your sentence when he pressed his lips against yours clumsily. you seized up in shock, not returning the kiss as a whirlwind of thoughts entered your mind. holy shit, he was really kissing you. but you hated each other, so why? why, why, why. when you didn’t respond, noritoshi pulled away in panic, spluttering apologies as he moved away from you. your emotional world was in chaos, all the buried and forgotten feelings for him breaking the dams and flooding your senses until the yearning became too much. you were reminded of the conversation you had with your mother years ago - you still wanted him, missed him. you wanted him by your side. desperately, you reached out, fisting the fabric of his shirt as you leaned up to kiss him. noritoshi caught you in his arms, wrapping them around you as he fervently returned the kiss. he was holding you like he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air, frantically pulling you in. his hands were roaming, discovering the expanse of your body.

his touches left you feeling delirious, high on pleasure. a mewl left your lips, pleading him for something, for more. your hands moved higher, feeling his chest and broad shoulders before you wrapped your arms around his neck. his name left your lips in breathy sighs as he peppered kisses down your jaw, pulling the collar of your shirt to the side to gain more access to the expanse of your neck. suddenly, you were hoisted up and pressed against the door as noritoshi held you by your thighs. you struggled to wrap your legs around his waist, to distracted by his relentless ministrations. by the time he's left multiple hickeys on your neck, you were whimpering mess. noritoshi's breath was taken away at the sight of you in his arms, lips swollen from the kisses, the glossy eyes, dishevelled hair and the hickeys that were slowly becoming more visible. he couldn't understand how carelessly you were letting him proceed when you supposedly harboured a strong dislike for him. nevertheless, he enjoyed it and wanted to savour the moment, ingrain it into his memory so he'd never forget why he was treating you like a nuisance.

a loud knock resounded from the door, followed by someone shouting: "noritoshi? has y/n been here?"

out of sheer shock, you shoved noritoshi away from you and nearly fell as you attempted to detangle yourself from him. he caught you in time, signalling you to stay quiet as the person outside was still shuffling around nervously. you slumped against him limply, letting your head rest against his chest. his heart was beating erratically. it made yours fill with pride as you could tell that you had the same effect on him as he did on you. still, the precarious situation suddenly dawned on you - you'd just made out with your sworn enemy and, yes you used to have a crush on him, enjoyed it very much. and by the looks of it, he would have continued if you hadn't pushed him away. the entire ordeal greatly confused you; was noritoshi just playing around with you? it couldn't be, he had initiated it after all. the cold treatment he usually gave you didn't match with his actions just now. you couldn't get close to him, not when he gave you mixed signals. you wanted someone who cherished you and was always sincere so you wouldn't have to second guess their actions.

"huh, i guess noritoshi's already sleeping. we'll have to check somewhere else, i hope she didn't get lost," the person outside mumbled as you stayed silent. the sound of shuffling was heard, then steps away from the room. you stayed put until you were sure they were gone and gently removed yourself from noritoshi's grip, not looking him in the eyes. he didn’t move, letting you go willingly.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know what came over me,” you apologized with a pained voice. “please forget that it ever happened and uhm, please don’t tell anyone.”

noritoshi’s eyes widened at your pleas, moving to stop you from leaving so he could explain himself to you. “y/n, wait, i can ex-”

hastily, you stumbled to open the door, dashing away from him until the building was out of your sight. you poorly hid behind a tree, sinking to your knees as you buried your face in your hands. what the hell. you just made out with your childhood friend turned enemy. your buried feelings were all over the place and your mind just couldn’t stay still. it messed with your outlook as well as your image of noritoshi, distorting and twisting it until you had to rethink your relationship. maybe all this time, you subconsciously hoped that he would return back to his old self and somehow give you an explanation. never having received closure on the end of your friendship, you would even forgive him for the sake of your relationship. were you this shallow? no, you simply harboured a lot of feelings for him. you weren’t able to tell what his thought process was - was he even interested in you? did he see you like that?

“there you are,” you lifted your head to see gojo walking towards you with his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his pants. you almost didn’t recognize him as he simply wore a pair of sunglasses and let his hair down. “the others are looking for you. what are you doing out here? trouble in paradise?”

“n-no! i just needed some time away from everyone to- to catch my breath,” you exclaimed indignantly and perhaps too hastily you realized when gojo smirked at you knowingly. why did everyone assume that there was anything between noritoshi and you? was it that obvious?

“uh huh. that’s not what your neck says,” gojo pointed out while wiggling his eyebrows and offered you a hand to stand up. “he really doesn’t like any competition.”

“fuck,” you cursed quietly, covering the hickeys with one hand while taking gojo’s with your other and pulling yourself up. it was embarrassing enough to meet one of the teachers like this but it was even more embarrassing to know that your teacher had seen the aftermath of your makeout session. 

“i’m not gonna tell anyone, if that’s what you’re concerned about. although it would certainly be funny to tease little noritoshi,” gojo was giggling and you knew he was greatly amused by the entire situation. it almost reminded you of nobara. you groaned in frustration as you trailed behind him towards the girls’ dorms. you needed to hide your neck so no one would question it or grill you until you confessed; the potential embarrassment was mortifying.

your group strategy was already falling apart when todo suddenly disappeared in the depths of the forest, not caring about your teamwork in the slightest. normally, it would frustrate you a lot more if you weren’t already preoccupied with your own troubles. todo would be fine anyways, the remaining group members could work on a strategy on their own. as mechamaru and mai were discussing, you shot a glance at noritoshi. he looked as deadpan as usual, probably not listening to the discussion as he worked better on his own and it was more or less decided that mechamaru and him would be moving on their own while the others would team up. otherwise, you couldn’t tell whether he was bothered by what had transpired between you the night before. on the contrary, he looked calm and composed, probably more focused on his goal than anything else. and for some reason it bothered you.

when you’d returned to nobara’s room last night, gojo had helped you make up an excuse. while dramatically gesturing around, he’d told them that he intercepted her journey towards the boys’ dorms to recruit you for training, claiming that he wanted to teach you more about reverse cursed techniques. although he saved you from scrutiny and embarrassment, you couldn’t help but feel like he might use it as leverage in the future. it was gojo after all, he was unpredictable. absentmindedly, you agreed to whatever plan the others had schemed and grabbed your sword, getting ready to move to your assigned position with miwa. while you had heard of the other students’ skills, you weren’t sure where to place their levels as there was always room for surprises. underestimating opponents was a beginner's mistake. the bell rang out, signaling the start of the tournament; with swift movements, the group members dispersed and slowly moved towards the "enemy".

in the distance, you could already hear loud explosions - it was probably mechamaru happily blasting away his opponents. you gritted your teeth in annoyance, the blasts were too loud for you to make out anyone approaching you. and as you predicted, someone was taking advantage of the noise to stalk up on you. barely being able to block the blow with your sword, you found yourself opposite of maki who was grinning at you. the challenging glint in her eyes told you that she wasn't going to go easy on you but you welcomed it. it was a good opportunity for you to grow and hone your sword wielding skills.

however, it proved to be more difficult to defeat maki than you'd originally anticipated. in mere minutes, maki had already disarmed miwa, leaving her defenseless and you were hanging on a bare thread. your grip on the sword was weakening, laboured breath making your ears ring. it was frustrating, knowing that after all those months of rigorous practice, you still couldn't win a fight. giving up wasn't an option, at the very least you had to give it your all.

"c'mon, you can do better than this!" maki teased you as you ducked away from the swipe of her spear. it missed you by a hair's width and left you scrambling to create more distance between you so you could heal yourself. maki's relentless hits didn't give you any rooms for it - you really had to learn how to constantly apply it to yourself without losing time. from the corner of your eyes, you could see that miwa had picked up the phone. she was probably calling for help, you thought and dished out another hit towards maki which she skillfully dodged. instead, she delivered another blow to your legs, making your knees buckle from the force. you used your sword to support you and took another breath before you tried to lunge at her. in the distance, miwa suddenly collapsed, making you stop mid-move and took another hit from maki that took all the air in your lungs.

"eyes on your opponent, y/n. you know better than to get distracted in a fight, you could've been killed in a real fight," maki reprimanded you as you coughed heavily, gasping for air as you slowly got back up. you were unsteady on your feet, not having enough energy to even heal yourself. conflicted by whether you should face maki again or help miwa, your eyes were flitting between them. maki took advantage of your uncertainty, dealing another blow to you that knocked the sword out of your hand. as your last resort, you kicked at her feet, trying to get her to fall, only to have her pin you to the ground.

"you're going to have to practice a lot more to beat me in the future," she sighed, picking up your sword. panic welled up in your chest - the sword was the only way you could possibly somewhat win this fight but even subconsciously you knew that it was over. reaching out for the sword in desperation, your vision was clouded with tears. it was frustrating, so so frustrating. why couldn't you be as talented as her? or have fast reflexes like noritoshi? why were you ordinary, not being able to make any progress no matter how hard you try?

"i know but i can't give up now!" you defiantly retorted, pushing at her with all might. "i have to win, i just have to show my skills for once and prove myself, i- i-"

even maki softened up at your heart wrenching sobs, easing up on her grip. you both knew it was over. you were probably already eliminated from the tournament, with no other possibility to redeem yourself. she knew that you tried your best and never once underestimated her but something irked her. it was your motivation, your driving force.

"y/n, there's no shame in losing. that's how you grow, make mistakes and learn from them. you tried your best, it's not easy to stand against me for so long."

"i know but there's- i'm still not where i need to be! look at how much progress the others are making in comparison to me! i've been practicing day and night and still, no one is noticing me. i'm just a measly healer and i-"

"y/n." maki cut you off sternly. "is this your motivation? proving yourself to others? you'll not be able to improve if you keep fighting for others. you need to start working on yourself, for yourself. you don't owe anyone anything. but you have to realize that trying to satisfy other people's needs will only make you unhappy and hinder your growth."

"i'm unhappy with my skills! i keep telling myself that it's okay, that i have a rare cursed technique but sometimes i just wish i had a flashy technique or be as strong as you. i don't want to be looked at as if i need protection, i don't want it! i just-" you hiccuped, sniffling again as you wiped your tears with the sleeves of your uniform. "i just want someone to acknowledge me, want him to accept me as an equal…"

"who?" maki's cold look made you freeze in your movements. you didn't mean to let that slip. no one needed to know that the entire time, you were vying for noritoshi's attention. but she was right; there was no point in giving it your all if it wasn't for yourself. it was a silly, childish dream of yours to be equal with him again. he was far out of reach and you couldn't catch up to him.

"n- noritoshi," you admitted in defeat. maki saw right through you, there was no point in lying. she raised her eyebrows at you but didn't question it further. after all, you hadn't told her about the background story. unless nobara had done so, you wouldn't doubt it.

"i'm not gonna ask you why. but this is my advice, do not fight for somebody else. if you relentlessly work on yourself for your own benefit, you'll see progress a lot faster. your technique might not be flashy but it is powerful, remember that. you're a valuable asset to every team," she concluded and pulled you up, awkwardly patting your back as you still sniffled. maki opened her mouth to tell you some comforting words but froze when another extremely loud boom resounded near the entrance of the estate. your eyes widened at the sudden influx of cursed energy - there was no doubt that a high-level curse had just entered the school grounds. you turned to maki to tell her the news but she'd already moved, pointing to miwa.

"take her to a safe place, you can't stay here! in your state, you wouldn't last against such a strong curse," maki yelled at you as she disappeared in the woods. you scrambled frantically, not wanting to be left behind. while you were useless for the tournament, you could at least still be of assistance against a curse. miwa was still laying on the ground, unmoving. you shook her gently, scared that she was seriously hurt. it seemed like she was just sleeping instead; you were relieved. throwing her across your shoulder, you winced in pain but persisted nonetheless. you had to get her away from here, who knows what curses were roaming around. your senses were flooded with the stench of blood and debris, the pressure of cursed energy, the loud rumbles. you couldn't tell where the others were but you hoped they were safe.

a loud thud startled you and you stopped, ready to draw your sword until realization hit you that it was utahime that was inspecting you. determined, you thrusted miwa's limp body towards utahime. 

"miwa will be okay, she's just sleeping! i'm okay too, don't worry, please just take care of her and i'll check on the others!"

"y/n, don't be stupid! you're injured and in no state to help others." utahime attempted to convince you; you shook her off stubbornly, insisting that you were fine.

"what if the others get hurt? i have to help them or at least warn them!" your resolve was firm and unwavering that even utahime couldn't convince you otherwise. slipping out of her grasp, you sprinted towards the source of the cursed energy. from far away you could already see the damage that the curse had caused. multiple buildings were torn apart, trees dislodged and- were those branches rapidly growing out of the ground? you watched in horror as the branches whipped around, following running figures on the rooftop of one of the buildings. upping your speed, you jumped towards the group to aid them. as you neared them, you could make out inumaki, noritoshi, and megumi fighting against the curse, maki trailing close behind. 

they barely stood a chance against the curse, every hit that they dealt, the curse would come out unscathed. "what's the deal with that curse?" you asked, panting as you joined them, coming to a halt behind inumaki. megumi was yelling something but you couldn't hear him as noritoshi turned to you and shoved you out of the way.

"y/n, what are you doing here?" 

"helping you guys? what the fuck does it look like?" you yelled back exasperated. why was he mad at you in such a situation? they needed any helping hand they could get to defeat the curse. while you weren't useful in fights, you could at least provide continuous healing. noritoshi didn't have any time to reply as the curse lashed out again, dodging it by jumping to the side. you stayed close to inumaki, swiftly healing him when he collapsed from the rebound of his cursed speech. you clenched your jaw, not wanting the others to see that you were slowly running out of energy and strength. next thing you know, a body was hurled through the air, landing near you with a thud. your heart filled with dread when your eyes fell onto the figure, recognizing noritoshi.

"y/n, heal them as best as you can and get out of here! take them to the teachers!" maki yelled out and this time you obeyed, too panicked about noritoshi's state. you were thankful that inumaki had enough energy to run after you'd healed him - hauling noritoshi's tall frame around was already difficult enough but even more so when you were exhausted. as you neared the gates, utahime was already running towards you with a concerned look on her face. you were glad that she was nearby, it meant that gojo and the other teachers were close and could defend you.

"what happened?" utahime worried but you couldn't reply. falling to your knees, you gently laid noritoshi on the ground. the injuries looked bad, there was blood everywhere. you had to stop the wound on his head from bleeding but your trembling hands were preventing you from doing so.

"i- i don't know, i just- i think the curse hit him and now he's unconscious and he's losing so much blood and-"

utahime pinched you firmly, snapping you out of your panic. she was already holding a cloth to noritoshi's temple to stop the bleeding. patting your hand, she told you in a gentle voice: "heal him if you still have enough strength but don't overexert yourself. ieiri will be here soon." 

nodding frantically, you placed your trembling hands on his abdomen and let your cursed energy flow. the strength was slowly leaving your body but you had to save him. you had to make sure he was okay, he couldn't die, not like this. regret was bubbling up inside you; what if this was the last time you would ever get to see him?just as you felt his energy responding to yours and saw his hand moving slightly, you couldn't hold yourself upright anymore. the last thing you saw was utahime reaching out to catch you as you collapsed.

you woke up with a startle, gasping for air as you sat up abruptly. sunlight was flooding the room and it felt uncomfortably hot on your skin. you pushed the blanket back but stopped halfway in your movement. your entire body hurt, muscles burning and screaming for more rest. and yet you couldn’t stay still as you remembered the previous events. how long were you out for? was everyone okay? gritting your teeth, you slowly moved out of the room. again, you were faced with the endless maze that was the tokyo tech buildings and stopped in your tracks, not sure which direction to go. you let out a sigh of relief when you spotted yuji in the distance, waving at him to get his attention.

“y/n!” yuji ran towards you, frantically gesturing towards your room. “you’re supposed to be resting! what are you doing here?”

“is everyone okay?” you croaked, now realizing how dry your throat was.

“yeah, ieiri did a good job of healing everyone! some of us are still resting though and so should you.”

“no, i… is noritoshi okay?”

“noritoshi? oh, you mean the guy with the long hair?” yuji nodded, curiously eyeing you as your shoulders dropped, the stress rolling of them. “yeah, he’s still recovering though. ieiri said that his injuries were probably the worst so he’s not allowed to leave the bed.”

“can you take me to him?” you asked with a small voice, doing your best to muster up a puppy face. yuji sighed, scratching his head sheepishly. you could see the conflict in his eyes, that he was thinking about rejecting your request. in the end, he shook his head in defeat and motioned for you to follow him. a small grin found its way onto your lips - yuji was just too nice, he couldn’t say no when people ask him for favours. the walk to noritoshi’s room was silent, neither of you knowing what to say. you knew it was selfish of you not to ask him about his wellbeing more or visit the others but you just had to see for yourself that noritoshi was okay. yuji stopped in front of a door, pointing at it.

“this is his room. he might be sleeping though… my room is down the hall so if you need me to accompany you back to your room, just call me.”

you thanked him quietly and watched as he retreated. taking a deep breath, you knocked at the door and waited for a reply. a few moments passed before noritoshi’s voice rang out, giving you the okay to enter. gingerly, you opened the door and entered the room. noritoshi was sitting on his bed, reading a book as if nothing had happened. you looked at him bewildered. he didn’t look like his injuries fazed him at all. despite the bandages around his head and arms, he remained calm as if nothing hurt. 

“noritoshi,” you breathed out, taking a seat on the chair near the bed. he didn’t spare you a look, keeping his eyes on the book. “i uhm. i’m glad you’re okay! when i saw you in that state, i was so so scared that i could lose you… i did my best to heal you, i know i didn’t do much but-”

“i didn’t need your help,” noritoshi snapped at you, placing the book on his lap. “i would’ve been fine without it.”

you were stunned. why was he so agitated? after you initial shock, you huffed in frustration. “what the hell, you could’ve died! i was trying so hard to keep you alive and you react like this? i know you don’t like me but even this is a low blow for you!”

“it wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t inserted yourself into everything! you’re not helping anyone, just dragging us down; everything could’ve gone well if it wasn’t for you standing in the way,” noritoshi countered as frustrated, this time actually looking at you. you stared back at him in disbelief. you saved his life and he had the nerve to shot you down like this.

“does it really hurt your ego to admit that i was actually helpful? we were friends at some point so why do you insist on being such a dick? and here i was, finally thinking that we were getting somewhere- for fuck’s sake, we kissed and-”

“leave.”

you stopped rambling. the tired tone in his voice, the deadpan look on his face; he was serious. you couldn’t believe him. tears welled up in your eyes as you leaped from the chair and hastily exited the room, slamming the door in anger. 

you never wanted to see him again.

p.s: yes nobara gave you a wrong sketch of the buildings what about it hehe

taglist: @milkteeboba​

[finalgirlbrainrot]

I have two unpopular opinions 1) if roles were reversed and Dean was the one drinking blood, Dean stans would have excused the shit out of it and even liked it. 2) if none of Dean's trauma was addressed and ignored (like most of Sam's trauma is) Dean stans would fucking riot.

intensely aggressively strongly agree | strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

(sorry in advance, I ranted A Lot)

2) I'm gonna start with this one. YESYESYES I mean dean stans are already constantly unironically whining that dean's traumas never get acknowledged (EVEN THO IT'S LITERALLY NOT TRUE, HIS TRAUMAS ALREADY GET ACKNOWLEDGED MORE THAN ENOUGH. EVERY TIME HE STUBS HIS TOE. EVERYONE IS CODDLING HIM AND ASKING HIM HOW HE'S DOING. HALF THE SHOW IS LITERALLY DEAN MANPAINING ABOUT HIS TRAUMAS - but apparently that's not enough for them, so I can't imagine the uproar if it was actually true). meanwhile sam's traumas either get ignored or they get treated like a fucking joke? well I guess it's just another tuesday

I've also seen a lot of dean stans moaning about sam "forcing dean to talk about his traumas", because apparently sam actually acknowledging dean's traumas and encouraging him to open up about them and being always supportive af because he actually cares is unacceptable (and I'm willing to bet that if he didn't acknowledge them, they'd still complain because sam literally can't win no matter what he does)

but dean ignoring and never acknowledging sam's traumas (not even when he's directly responsible for said trauma) or making them all about himself (mystery spot, hallucifer, soullessness, gadreel possession) or vilifying and victim blaming him (being force-fed demon blood, soullessness, gadreel possession) or using said traumas to justify his actions (hallucifer) or making cruel, disgusting and unnecessary jokes about them ("you had a girl inside you for a whole week" [meg possession] "you know how wrong that sounds, right?" "you've like an episode of teen mom" [gadreel possession - let's talk about how these two in particular are a thousand times more disgusting than the rest since he's actually joking about a violation he's directly responsible for] "smores foot" [bmol torture] "crybaby pie" [cole torture] "you saw the [devil's] john [or butt]?" [the cage] dick of death jokes right, left and center) is perfectly acceptable behaviour

1) again YESYESYESYES. I mean, this isn't even a hypothesis, we already have an extremely similar storyline for dean - the moc - and everyone made excuses for him and glorified him, even tho he was worse than demon blood sam in every possible way

actually I wrote a rant on reddit a couple of days ago about the awful double standards between demon blood sam and moc/demon dean. I'm gonna paste it here because I'm Bitter Af

comparing demon blood sam and moc/demon demon is ironically and hysterically bitter because, logically, no matter how you spin it, s4 sam is much more understandable and easy to sympathize with - both in intentions and actions - and should have the moral high ground, while s9-10 dean was flat out awful and damaging. yet both the show and the fandom crucify sam and treat dean as some poor victim or a great martyred hero who made some great noble sacrifice and I just... don't get it. so let's break it down:

> reason for drinking blood / getting the moc

- sam: exorcising demons without harming the host, thus saving people (which apparently isn't that relevant to dean) and killing lilith, first because she sent his brother to hell and then to stop the apocalypse and because she was an actual threat

- dean: because he couldn't face the consequences of his actions after the gadreel mess and decided he wanted to kill abaddon, who, at that point, wasn't even their problem (she only became a real problem in 9x17, when they learned about the soul harvesting, so unless dean has some sort of prophetic knowledge, he had no reason to take the moc in 9x11) and was a real threat to no-one but crowley

> trusting / working with a demon

- sam: I've already said this before, but ruby was a master manipulator and went to extraordinary lengths to gain sam's trust and even managed to fool every single demon (aside from lilith obviously). as far as both brothers knew, she's done nothing but help them, saved their lives multiple times and helped them save others, fixed the colt for them, was there for sam after dean died, is basically hunted by other demons for helping them, has risked her life for them several times and even got tortured for them and was helping sam to go after the demon who was trying to start the apocalypse. sam had absolutely no valid reason not to trust her. I'd really like someone to look me in the eyes and tell me that, if anyone did everything I mentioned above, you wouldn't trust them

- dean: trusted a demon who they knew is extremely untrustworthy and self-serving and only does what's in his best interest and has screwed them over one way or another every time they worked together and has hurt people they're close to

> level of manipulation involved

- sam: as I already said, ruby was a master manipulator and spent two years carefully manipulating sam to get him to do what she wanted. not the mention everything azazel did to get him there, lilith pushing his buttons at every turn to get him to kill her and the manipulation from heaven as well, who were lying to the boys at every turn

- dean: while crowley was manipulating him, the level of manipulation isn't remotely comparable to the one sam went through is s4. crowley saying “let’s kill abaddon” and pretending to be afraid of cain is not comparable to a plan that’s been set on motion since the beginning of time and crowley wasn't the only one involved in dean getting the mark. cain was involved as well and he wasn't manipulating him (unlike sam, who was being manipulated by everyone involved). on the contrary, he was completely honest with dean and even offered to tell him more about the mark and DEAN REFUSED (like can you imagine how many problems would've been avoided if dean sat on his ass for one minute and listened to cain's warning???)

> actions

- sam: in s4 sam was trying to use something that was forced on him when he was six months old, and that he hated about himself, to do good because he felt like he had to and was literally SAVING PEOPLE and trying to stop the apocalypse, I literally still don't get why he's vilified for it????? in s4 sam killed a total of one (1) person: the possessed nurse and while that was obviously bad, 1) he was clearly upset about it and 2) I still haven't seen one (1) valid reason for why she's any different from the demons dean drained and killed in swan song or from any of the other possession victims they killed with the demon knife or the angel blade

- dean: meanwhile dean was going around murdering people left and right (also another example of fandom double standards: everyone defends moc!dean and demon!dean because "he only killed bad people" - which isn't even true, but let's say he was - and yet, I seem to remember a certain kitsune named amy pond, who was ALSO killing bad people (and not for the lolz of it, but to save her son) and dean killed her and the fandom defended him back then as well. is killing bad people okay only if dean does it?), tried to kill sam, beat cas bloody

> keeping secrets

- sam: keeping his powers and the demon blood a secret was his god given right, since it affected no-one but sam himself and the demons he was exorcising. not to mention, he had pretty good reasons for not telling dean, considering his bigotry, black and white views and judgmental attitude. and yet, he was, and still is, vilified by both the show and the fandom for keeping secrets and dean even punched him for not telling him about his abilities (something in particular about this point that absolutely drives me up the wall: in 4x04 sam accidentally revealed that he knew about what azazel did to him and dean got mad at him for not telling him about it, even tho dean himself found out about it and didn't tell sam and no-one - not the show, not the fandom and not even sam and dean themselves - notices the hypocrisy. they're literally saying that it's okay for DEAN to keeps something about SAM a secret from SAM, but not okay for SAM to keep something about HIMSELF a secret from DEAN. if you don't think that's super fucked up, then I don't know what to tell you)

- dean: no-one says anything about dean keeping the effects of the mark a secret, even tho, unlike s4 sam, lying about the mark directly affected other people and put everyone around him in danger, including sam

> general treatment

- sam: everyone treated sam like a monster in s4, dean straight up called him a monster, told him he'd hunt him if he didn't know him, forced him into a torture-detox that almost killed him, tried to control him and refused to see his point. at the end of s4 sam apologized to dean. in s5 dean repeatedly told him that he doesn't trust him. sam was blamed for everything that happened in s4 and his mistake kept getting brought up even seasons later

- dean: everyone and their mom was coddling him and helping to get rid of the mark. everyone considered the mark to be the problem, not dean himself. sam was unconditionally supportive. dean never once apologized to sam for any of the awful things he said/did to him while he had the mark. sam never once blamed dean for anything that happened in s9-10 and instead placed the blame on crowley and none of the things dean did ever got brought up again

> at the end of each arc

- sam: paid for his mistake by sacrificing himself and jumped into the cage and saved the world and got tortured by the devil himself for centuries

- dean: paid for his mistake by having his mother brought back to life

send me unpopular opinions

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Safe, For Now- Hizdahr zo Loraq x OC

Hizdahr zo Loraq x Kiyara Tallhart

Description: Kiyara is in Meereen with her queen Daenerys, where they meet quite the interesting character in the form of Hizdahr zo Loraq

Word Count: 2k

Note: Hizdahr zo Loraq is usually forgotten but because I am in fact Joel Fry trash, I remember and love him (at least in the show)

Season 4, Episode 6

“Send the next one in,” Daenerys instructed softly. She, Kiyara, Missandei and Jorah then watched as Hizdahr zo Loraq and his manservant entered. 

“The noble Hizdahr zo Loraq begs an audience with the Queen,” the manservant spoke in Valyrian. Kiyara and Missandei glanced at the Queen to see what she’d want. 

“The noble Hizdahr zo Loraq can speak to me himself,” she responded simply, also speaking Valryian. The manservant bowed then retreated, passing by the noble as he came forward and bowed. 

“Queen Daenerys,” he greeted. “Tales of your beauty were not exaggerated.” Daenerys thanked him. 

“Mine is one of the oldest and proudest families in Mereen,” the man continued. 

“Then it is my honor to receive you,” the queen responded coolly. Kiyara’s hands clasped in front of her as she listened to the conversation, attempting to do as Missandei instructed and not to show her surprise when Loraq revealed that Daenerys crucified his father. Her eyes closed when the queen pointed out that his father crucified innocent children, attempting to not think about that mental image.

“My father spoke out against crucifying those children. He decried it as a criminal act, but was overruled. Is it justice to answer one crime with another?” Her eyes opened once again at his question, curious to see her queen’s response.

“I am sorry you no longer have a father, but my treatment of the masters was no crime. You'd be wise to remember that.” 

“What's done is done,” Loraq muttered quickly. “You are the queen and I am a servant of Meereen. A servant who does not wish to see its traditions eradicated.”

“And what traditions do you speak of?”

“The tradition of funeral rites. Proper burial in the Temple of the Graces. My father and 162 noble Meereenese are still nailed to those posts, carrion for vultures, rotting in the sun,” he took a second to kneel before her. “Your Grace, I ask that you order these men taken down so that they might receive proper burials.” 

“And what of the slave children these noble Meereenese crucified?”Daenerys questioned firmly, which made Kiyara look away. “They were rotting in the sun as well. Would you have begged me for their right to a proper burial?” Kiyara finally looked at the man once more, only to see him already looking at her. He finally looked at the queen once she cleared her throat. 

“Your Grace, I cannot defend the actions of the masters. I can only speak to you as a son who loved his father. Let me take his body down. Let me have him brought to the temple and buried with dignity so that he might find peace in the next world.” Daenerys looked at Missandei, then at Jorah, then at Kiyara, trying to silently see their thoughts. After a moment of analyzing Kiyara’s expression, she looked at Loraq. 

“Bury your father, Hizdahr zo Loraq.” The man looked relieved at her words and he quickly stood. 

“Thank you, my queen,” He said gratefully, bowing to her. Once he stood straight, his eyes met Kiyara’s sympathetic ones. Their gaze broke just a moment later and he walked out with his manservant in suit. 

“How many more?” Daenerys inquired tiredly. 

“There are 212 supplicants waiting, Your Grace,” Kiyara answered. 

“212?” The woman repeated, trying not to show her exasperation. She looked at Jorah, who shrugged, before sighing. 

“Send the next one in.”  

Season 5, Episodes 4 and 5

“All men must die. But not all can die in glory,” Hizdahr spoke calmly upon Daenerys, Missandei and Kiyara entering the audience chamber. 

“Glory?” Kiyara repeated questioningly, crossing her arms. The man looked at her with an intense stare before nodding. 

“Why else do men fight?” He pointed out. “Why did your ancestors cross the Narrow Sea and conquer the Seven Kingdoms? So their names would live on. Those who find victory in the fighting pits, will never become kings, but their names will live on. It's the best chance they'll ever have.” 

“Is that what you used to tell men before you set them to butchering each other for sport?” Danaerys questioned calmly, though there was an unmistakable sense of fierceness laced in her tone. 

“Your Grace, today is the traditional start of the fighting season,” Loraq responded coolly. Daenerys shook her head, stating she didn’t recognize this tradition. 

“Traditions are the only thing that will hold this city, your city, together,” he explained. “Without them, former slaves and former masters have nothing in common. Nothing but centuries of mistrust and resentment. I can't promise this is the answer to all our problems, but it's a start.” 

Grey Worm laid in bed, looking asleep. One would have thought that he was if it hadn’t been for Missandei crying beside the bed. Kiyara only let a few tears slip as she rested a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. Daenerys called her attention, allowing everyone to give Missandei a moment alone, and walked into the Throne Room. 

The room was dark save for a few candles. Kiyara stood behind Daenerys and Daario as they stood over the body of Barristan. She turned upon hearing footsteps enter, then watched as Hizdahr walked up to the queen along with two men. 

“I am so sorry, my queen,” he offered softly. “He was a good man.” A few more tears slipped down Kiyara’s face and she turned away to wipe them away, not missing the man's glance at her. 

“Barristan the Bold,’ they called him,” Daenerys spoke after a moment. “He crossed a continent to serve me. He was a loyal friend. And he died in an alley, butchered by cowards who hide behind masks.” 

“We could pull back to the pyramid district, secure it, and use it as a base from which to operate,” Daario suggested, walking over to Daenerys. “Then we clean the city out, neighborhood by neighborhood, street by street, until the rats have nowhere to hide.” Kiyara’s eyebrows shot up at his proposal. That would definitely take a lot of time. Daario glanced at Hizdahr before looking at Daenerys once more. The queen turned to face him. 

“I prefer your earlier suggestion,” she responded. “Round up the leaders of each of Mereen’s great families and bring them to me.” Kiyara’s jaw dropped, and her head snapped to Hizdahr as he stepped forward anxiously. 

“But...I’m the leader of my family,” he pointed out. Daario nodded, and the two men behind Hizdahr grabbed and restrained him. 

“No, Your Grace! I had nothing to do with this. Your Grace!” He called as he was taken away, Kiyara watching in awe. 

“Your majesty, with all due respect, are you sure this is the best course of action?” She asked hesitantly. Daenerys, rather than be mad, turned to her with a kind smile. 

“Of course, Kiyara. These men need to be made an example of.” The woman knew better than to question the queen further, so decided to keep her mouth shut.

Just minutes later, Daenerys, Kiyara, Daario, some Unsullied, and a number of men stood in the chamber, Daario holding a torch. After a few moments, Daenerys turns around and begins walking with Kiyara and Daario following her. Then a chain was heard rattling. The trio turned around.

“Walk forward,” Daenerys instructed simply in Valyrian. The Unsullied lowered their spears at the leaders then began walking forward. That forced the men to move, one man talking in Valyrian saying that she couldn’t do this (though it went unnoticed). After a few moments, they all stopped as chains rattled again.

“Another step,” the queen spoke in Valyrian, the Unsullied and leaders obeying. A chill ran up Kiyara’s spine when chains rattled yet again and a snarl resounded. She watched Daenerys walk through the Unsullied to the front of the group. 

“They will eat you, if I tell them to,” she informed them, still in Valyrian. “They may eat you even if I don’t. Children. Some say I should give up on them,” she spoke as one of the men began mumbling incoherently. “But a good mother never gives up on her children. She disciplines them if she must.” She looked at Daario, who walked over and pushed the mumbling man forward onto his knees. “But she does not give up on them,” she then glanced at Kiyara. “You might want to look away, dear. This isn’t something a lady like you should witness.” 

Kiyara hesitated, glancing once at Hizdahr’s anxious expression before turning away. That was all for naught as she suddenly heard a dragon roar then the man scream and turned to see what happened. The woman covered her mouth in shock, yet couldn’t help but watch in horror as another dragon blew flames onto the leader shortly before the man dropped dead. Daario pulled her close to him and shielded her face right before the dragons took his corpse, tore it in two, then ate it. Kiyara shared a quick look with him then looked over as Daenerys started to speak in Valyrian. 

“Who is innocent? Maybe all of you are,” she looked at Hizdahr. “Maybe none of you are. Maybe,” she rested her hand on Hizdahr’s arm, which made Kiyara bite her lip anxiously. “I should let the dragons decide.” The man didn’t look back at her when he spoke. 

“All men must die,” he said in Valyrian. The other men grovelled before Daenerys, but not Hizdahr. Daario refused to let Kiyara look at the dragons as they continued eating, so instead she focused on Hizdahr, then watched as Deanerys looked over and took in her terrified expression. She silently sighed in relief when Daenerys’ hand dropped.

“Don’t want to overfeed them,” she spoke simply. “Tomorrow perhaps.” She looked at Daario once again, and he took it as his cue to lead the Unsullied and leaders out. “Kiyara, you are excused for the time being, I know something like this is upsetting to see even during such circumstances,” she added. The woman only nodded before Daario spoke. 

“If my lady would follow me, I will take you to your room once we are done,” he offered. Kiyara didn’t care one way or the other but in response, she bowed to Daenerys and walked out at Daario’s side, linking her arm in his. The leaders continued to complain and grovel as they were put in their own single cells of the dungeon. As Daario locked one of the cells, one of the men, looking considerably terrified, practically fell to his knees before Kiyara. 

“Please, my lady,” he begged in Valyrian.

“I cannot disobey My Queen,” she responded simply. The man suddenly grabbed her wrist rather tightly, making her gasp.

“You can put a stop to this. Tell the queen that we meant no harm!” As he talked, Kiyara attempted in vain to get out of his grip, then someone else’s hand shot out to grab the man's wrist. 

“It will do you no good to do this, Manrel,” Hizdahr pointed out calmly but firmly. “Let her go or you’ll meet a worse fate than what ours already is.” The man's grip tightened on Kiyara, which made her worry for a moment before he finally let her go. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“Thank you sir,” she muttered gratefully to Hizdahr as the other man, Manrel, was placed into a cell. Hizdahr had almost no time to respond before he was practically shoved into a cell. He stared at her through the small barred window of his cell door, and she couldn’t help but stare back once their eyes met while Daario locked the door. After a moment, the man realized she was mouthing something. 

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed to him, looking like she really meant it. She stopped as Daario turned around then watched as he looked at all the cells of the prisoners. 

“You men are lucky,” he informed them gruffly. “If it were up to me, you’d all be rotting at that-“ Kiyara cleared her throat before he could finish, making him look at her. 

“Then they are thankful that that responsibility is not your burden, but The Queen’s,” she responded calmly. “They will reap what they sowed in due time. Tonight just let them sit with their thoughts. They at least deserve a moment of quiet for what they just witnessed, like the rest of us.” She knew that he understood that she was talking about herself and he sighed, knowing she was right. 

“Very well. This way, my lady.” Their arms linked together once more and she began leading her out of the dungeons. Kiyara was able to subtly look back at him one last time before they turned the corner, and she noticed him give her a grateful smile. She returned the gesture then quickly looked forward as Daario glanced at her, the two walking out of the dungeon with their heads held high. 

[araitsume]

The Desire of Ages, pp. 788-794: Chapter (82) “Why Weepest Thou?”

This chapter is based on Matthew 28:1, 5-8; Mark 16:1-8; Luke 24:1-12; John 20:1-18.

The women who had stood by the cross of Christ waited and watched for the hours of the Sabbath to pass. On the first day of the week, very early, they made their way to the tomb, taking with them precious spices to anoint the Saviour's body. They did not think about His rising from the dead. The sun of their hope had set, and night had settled down on their hearts. As they walked, they recounted Christ's works of mercy and His words of comfort. But they remembered not His words, “I will see you again.” John 16:22.

Ignorant of what was even then taking place, they drew near the garden, saying as they went, “Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the sepulcher?” They knew that they could not remove the stone, yet they kept on their way. And lo, the heavens were suddenly alight with glory that came not from the rising sun. The earth trembled. They saw that the great stone was rolled away. The grave was empty.

The women had not all come to the tomb from the same direction. Mary Magdalene was the first to reach the place; and upon seeing that the stone was removed, she hurried away to tell the disciples. Meanwhile the other women came up. A light was shining about the tomb, but the body of Jesus was not there. As they lingered about the place, suddenly they saw that they were not alone. A young man clothed in shining garments was sitting by the tomb. It was the angel who had rolled away the stone. He had taken the guise of humanity that he might not alarm these friends of Jesus. Yet about him the light of the heavenly glory was still shining, and the women were afraid. They turned to flee, but the angel's words stayed their steps. “Fear not ye,” he said; “for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here: for He is risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. And go quickly, and tell His disciples that He is risen from the dead.” Again they look into the tomb, and again they hear the wonderful news. Another angel in human form is there, and he says, “Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen: remember how He spake unto you when He was yet in Galilee, saying, The Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again.”

He is risen, He is risen! The women repeat the words again and again. No need now for the anointing spices. The Saviour is living, and not dead. They remember now that when speaking of His death He said that He would rise again. What a day is this to the world! Quickly the women departed from the sepulcher “with fear and great joy; and did run to bring His disciples word.”

Mary had not heard the good news. She went to Peter and John with the sorrowful message, “They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulcher, and we know not where they have laid Him.” The disciples hurried to the tomb, and found it as Mary had said. They saw the shroud and the napkin, but they did not find their Lord. Yet even here was testimony that He had risen. The graveclothes were not thrown heedlessly aside, but carefully folded, each in a place by itself. John “saw, and believed.” He did not yet understand the scripture that Christ must rise from the dead; but he now remembered the Saviour's words foretelling His resurrection.

It was Christ Himself who had placed those graveclothes with such care. When the mighty angel came down to the tomb, he was joined by another, who with his company had been keeping guard over the Lord's body. As the angel from heaven rolled away the stone, the other entered the tomb, and unbound the wrappings from the body of Jesus. But it was the Saviour's hand that folded each, and laid it in its place. In His sight who guides alike the star and the atom, there is nothing unimportant. Order and perfection are seen in all His work.

Mary had followed John and Peter to the tomb; when they returned to Jerusalem, she remained. As she looked into the empty tomb, grief filled her heart. Looking in, she saw the two angels, one at the head and the other at the foot where Jesus had lain. “Woman, why weepest thou?” they asked her. “Because they have taken away my Lord,” she answered, “and I know not where they have laid Him.”

Then she turned away, even from the angels, thinking that she must find someone who could tell her what had been done with the body of Jesus. Another voice addressed her, “Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou?” Through her tear-dimmed eyes, Mary saw the form of a man, and thinking that it was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if thou have borne Him hence, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away.” If this rich man's tomb was thought too honorable a burial place for Jesus, she herself would provide a place for Him. There was a grave that Christ's own voice had made vacant, the grave where Lazarus had lain. Might she not there find a burial place for her Lord? She felt that to care for His precious crucified body would be a great consolation to her in her grief.

But now in His own familiar voice Jesus said to her, “Mary.” Now she knew that it was not a stranger who was addressing her, and turning she saw before her the living Christ. In her joy she forgot that He had been crucified. Springing toward Him, as if to embrace His feet, she said, “Rabboni.” But Christ raised His hand, saying, Detain Me not; “for I am not yet ascended to My Father: but go to My brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto My Father, and your Father; and to My God, and your God.” And Mary went her way to the disciples with the joyful message.

Jesus refused to receive the homage of His people until He had the assurance that His sacrifice was accepted by the Father. He ascended to the heavenly courts, and from God Himself heard the assurance that His atonement for the sins of men had been ample, that through His blood all might gain eternal life. The Father ratified the covenant made with Christ, that He would receive repentant and obedient men, and would love them even as He loves His Son. Christ was to complete His work, and fulfill His pledge to “make a man more precious than fine gold; even a man than the golden wedge of Ophir.” Isaiah 13:12. All power in heaven and on earth was given to the Prince of Life, and He returned to His followers in a world of sin, that He might impart to them of His power and glory.

While the Saviour was in God's presence, receiving gifts for His church, the disciples thought upon His empty tomb, and mourned and wept. The day that was a day of rejoicing to all heaven was to the disciples a day of uncertainty, confusion, and perplexity. Their unbelief in the testimony of the women gives evidence of how low their faith had sunk. The news of Christ's resurrection was so different from what they had anticipated that they could not believe it. It was too good to be true, they thought. They had heard so much of the doctrines and the so-called scientific theories of the Sadducees that the impression made on their minds in regard to the resurrection was vague. They scarcely knew what the resurrection from the dead could mean. They were unable to take in the great subject.

“Go your way,” the angels had said to the women, “tell His disciples and Peter that He goeth before you into Galilee: there shall ye see Him, as He said unto you.” These angels had been with Christ as guardian angels throughout His life on earth. They had witnessed His trial and crucifixion. They had heard His words to His disciples. This was shown by their message to the disciples, and should have convinced them of its truth. Such words could have come only from the messengers of their risen Lord.

“Tell His disciples and Peter,” the angels said. Since the death of Christ, Peter had been bowed down with remorse. His shameful denial of the Lord, and the Saviour's look of love and anguish, were ever before him. Of all the disciples he had suffered most bitterly. To him the assurance is given that his repentance is accepted and his sin forgiven. He is mentioned by name.

“Tell His disciples and Peter that He goeth before you into Galilee: there shall ye see Him.” All the disciples had forsaken Jesus, and the call to meet Him again includes them all. He has not cast them off. When Mary Magdalene told them she had seen the Lord, she repeated the call to the meeting in Galilee. And a third time the message was sent to them. After He had ascended to the Father, Jesus appeared to the other women, saying, “All hail. And they came and held Him by the feet, and worshiped Him. Then said Jesus unto them, Be not afraid: go tell My brethren that they go into Galilee, and there shall they see Me.”

Christ's first work on earth after His resurrection was to convince His disciples of His undiminished love and tender regard for them. To give them proof that He was their living Saviour, that He had broken the fetters of the tomb, and could no longer be held by the enemy death; to reveal that He had the same heart of love as when He was with them as their beloved Teacher, He appeared to them again and again. He would draw the bonds of love still closer around them. Go tell My brethren, He said, that they meet Me in Galilee.

As they heard this appointment, so definitely given, the disciples began to think of Christ's words to them foretelling His resurrection. But even now they did not rejoice. They could not cast off their doubt and perplexity. Even when the women declared that they had seen the Lord, the disciples would not believe. They thought them under an illusion.

Trouble seemed crowding upon trouble. On the sixth day of the week they had seen their Master die; on the first day of the next week they found themselves deprived of His body, and they were accused of having stolen it away for the sake of deceiving the people. They despaired of ever correcting the false impressions that were gaining ground against them. They feared the enmity of the priests and the wrath of the people. They longed for the presence of Jesus, who had helped them in every perplexity.

Often they repeated the words, “We trusted that it had been He which should have redeemed Israel.” Lonely and sick at heart they remembered His words, “If they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?” Luke 24:21; 23:31. They met together in the upper chamber, and closed and fastened the doors, knowing that the fate of their beloved Teacher might at any time be theirs.

And all the time they might have been rejoicing in the knowledge of a risen Saviour. In the garden, Mary had stood weeping, when Jesus was close beside her. Her eyes were so blinded by tears that she did not discern Him. And the hearts of the disciples were so full of grief that they did not believe the angels’ message or the words of Christ Himself.

How many are still doing what these disciples did! How many echo Mary's despairing cry, “They have taken away the Lord, ... and we know not where they have laid Him”! To how many might the Saviour's words be spoken, “Why weepest thou? whom seekest thou?” He is close beside them, but their tear-blinded eyes do not discern Him. He speaks to them, but they do not understand.

Oh that the bowed head might be lifted, that the eyes might be opened to behold Him, that the ears might listen to His voice! “Go quickly, and tell His disciples that He is risen.” Bid them look not to Joseph's new tomb, that was closed with a great stone, and sealed with the Roman seal. Christ is not there. Look not to the empty sepulcher. Mourn not as those who are hopeless and helpless. Jesus lives, and because He lives, we shall live also. From grateful hearts, from lips touched with holy fire, let the glad song ring out, Christ is risen! He lives to make intercession for us. Grasp this hope, and it will hold the soul like a sure, tried anchor. Believe, and thou shalt see the glory of God.

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

14th April >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on John 20:11-18 for Easter Tuesday: ‘Who are you looking for?’.

Easter Tuesday

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

John 20:11-18

'I have seen the Lord and he has spoken to me'

Mary stayed outside near the tomb, weeping. Then, still weeping, she stooped to look inside, and saw two angels in white sitting where the body of Jesus had been, one at the head, the other at the feet. They said, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ ‘They have taken my Lord away’ she replied ‘and I don’t know where they have put him.’ As she said this she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, though she did not recognise him. Jesus said, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said, ‘Sir, if you have taken him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will go and remove him.’ Jesus said, ‘Mary!’ She knew him then and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbuni!’ – which means Master. Jesus said to her, ‘Do not cling to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go and find the brothers, and tell them: I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ So Mary of Magdala went and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord and that he had said these things to her.

Gospel (USA)

John 20:11–18

I have seen the Lord, and he said these things to me.

Mary Magdalene stayed outside the tomb weeping. And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the Body of Jesus had been. And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She thought it was the gardener and said to him, “Sir, if you carried him away, tell me where you laid him, and I will take him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,” which means Teacher. Jesus said to her, “Stop holding on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and then reported what he had told her.

Reflections (7)

(i) Easter Tuesday

In these days when so many people are confined to their homes, those who have a back garden consider themselves very fortunate. We have had some lovely weather and it is very therapeutic to go out into the garden and ‘potter around’, as my father used to say. At this time of the year, gardens are places of new life. Shrubs are coming into bud, grass is beginning to grow and some flowers are starting to show their colour. According to John’s gospel, the tomb where Jesus was buried was in a garden. When the risen Lord appeared to Mary Magdalene near to the empty tomb, she initially thought he must be the gardener. There is some relationship between the work of the risen Lord and the work of a gardener. The gardener tends the ground so that it bears the life of nature. The risen Lord tends the human person so that he or she bears the life of the Spirit. It was only when this stranger called Mary by her name that she recognized his true identity. He was not the gardener; he was the Lord whose body she had been seeking and for whom she had been weeping. The light of the risen Lord’s presence penetrated the darkness of her grief. She would go on to say to the other disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’. Like Mary, we don’t always recognize the presence of the Lord in our lives. She was blinded by her grief. We too can be blinded by grief, or anxiety or remorse or despondency. There was something about the way the Lord came to Mary that made her think that he could have been the gardener. The Lord often comes to us in very simple and ordinary guises, calling us by name, as he called Mary by name. In these difficult days, we pray for eyes to see the Lord’s presence and ears to hear his very personal call to us. He comes to us every day as light into our darkness, as he came to Mary while in the depths of her loss and grief, and he sends us out to say with our lives, ‘I have seen the Lord’.

And/Or

(ii) Easter Tuesday

All of us will have wept at the death of a loved one at some point in our lives. When people who are close to us die it affects us deeply. The sadness of loss is one of the deepest of human agonies. In this morning’s gospel reading Mary Magdalene is to be found weeping outside the tomb of Jesus. Her deep sadness at the death of Jesus has been compounded by the absence of his body. When there is no body to focus our grief the sadness of loss can be even more traumatic. To the question, ‘Why are you weeping?’ she can only answer, ‘they have taken my Lord away and I don’t know where they have put him’.  Into that deep grief of Mary steps the risen Lord. Initially, Mary’s grief blinds her to his presence; she mistakes him for the gardener. When we are grieving the loss of a loved one, we don’t always recognize the Lord’s presence to us initially. Our grief can overwhelm us and isolate us. It was when the risen Lord spoke Mary’s name that she recognized him. The Lord speaks our name too when we find ourselves in a dark valley of grief or in some other form of darkness. We need to be attentive to the Lord speaking our name. He relates to each of us in a very personal way, especially in our darkest moments. He comes to us as he came to Mary to bring light to our darkness and to proclaim the triumph of life over death. From being paralyzed by grief, Mary became the messenger of Easter joy to the other disciples, the apostle to the disciples. The Lord who was transformed by his resurrection had a transforming effect on Mary. The risen Lord can have the same transforming impact on all of our lives, empowering us to become his messengers of the good news of Easter.

 And/Or

(iii) Easter Tuesday

In the gospel reading, the risen Lord asks Mary two questions, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?’ Mary was weeping because she could not find Jesus for whom she was looking. Some of the sadness in our lives comes from a sense of loss, an awareness of unfulfilled longing. We have probably all known that particular form of sadness. We long for something or someone, and because that longing goes unfulfilled, we experience a sense of deep sadness. In the gospel reading, Mary’s longing for Jesus was satisfied. The risen Lord spoke her name, and her sadness was banished as she clung to him. Yet, even in that moment of great joy, she had to learn to let go of Jesus as she had known him. Because Jesus was returning to the Father, from now on he would relate to her and to all of his disciples in a new way. He would be as close to her and his disciples as he ever was, indeed even closer, but in a different way. The gospel reading assures us that, even if many of our longings go unsatisfied, our longing for the Lord, which is our deepest longing, will always be satisfied. The Lord speaks our name as he spoke Mary’s name. Because of his death and resurrection, his Father is now our Father and his God is now our God. In journeying from this world to the Father, the Lord draws us into his relationship with God, thereby making us his brothers and sisters and brothers and sisters of each other. If we open our lives to him and search for him as Mary did, we will come to experience this quality of communion with him and with each other.

 And/Or

(iv) Easter Tuesday

There is a very strong emphasis in this morning’s gospel reading on the weeping of Mary Magdalene. She stood outside the tomb weeping. The angels asked her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ Jesus asked her, ‘Why are you weeping?’ She weeps because she cannot find the Lord. We weep when we lose someone who is significant for us, or when we cannot seem to connect with someone important to us, no matter how hard we try. We search and we cannot find, and, so, we grieve. In the case of Mary, she searched and she found – or, rather, the Lord for whom she was searching found her, as he called out to her by her name, ‘Mary’. We may not always succeed in finding our loved ones for whom we search, but we will always find the Lord if we search for him, because he is always searching for us. He is the good shepherd who calls his own by name. The Lord is calling our name, even before we begin to search for him. Our finding the Lord is always in response to the Lord’s search for us. He came to seek and to save the lost, and we are all lost to some degree. The Lord seeks us out in his love. All we need to do is to put ourselves in the way of his searching love, as Mary Magdalene did. She has something to teach us about seeking the Lord in our pain and loss.

 And/Or

(v) Easter Tuesday

The Easter garden in our church is looking lovely. Several parishioners have contributed potted plants to transform what was a Lenten garden with a desert look into a flowering Easter garden. The gospel reading this morning makes a link between Easter and a garden. John’s gospel from which we read this morning places the tomb of Jesus in a garden. When the risen Lord appears to Mary Magdalene, she initially mistakes him for the gardener. Because Jesus had been raised into a new and glorious life, into a transformed life, he wasn’t initially recognizable by his disciples. He was the same Jesus who had been crucified and, yet, he had been changed. He could no longer be seen in the way other people are seen. It was only when the risen Jesus called Mary by name that she recognized that the man speaking with her was not the gardener but Jesus himself. We too do not see the Lord as we see other people and, yet, the Lord is as present to us as other people are. Indeed he is more present to us than other people are, because he is more alive than anyone else, as he shares in God’s glorious life. The risen Lord calls us by name as he called Mary Magdalene by name. He declares to us as he declared to her that his Father is our Father and his God is our God. He draws us into a sharing in his own intimate relationship with God, because of which we become his brothers and sisters. These are the graces of Easter. This Easter week is a time when we allow ourselves some space to savour these graces and, also, to hear the call that goes with those graces, the call to witness to the risen Lord before others, as Mary Magdalene did.

 And/Or

(vi) Easter Tuesday

In today’s gospel reading, the evangelist traces Mary Magdalene’s journey towards Easter faith. Initially she is weeping at the empty tomb of Jesus. She then saw Jesus standing there but didn’t recognize him, assuming he was the gardener. Then in response to Jesus calling her name, she recognized the figure standing before her as Jesus. She was not yet at Easter faith. She called Jesus ‘Master’, which was the title she had given him before his death, and she clung to him. She had to learn to let Jesus go. He would no longer be with his disciples as he was before his death. He would be with them in a new way in and through the Holy Spirit. Only when she had let go of her former relationship with Jesus could she finally be sent out as a messenger of Easter faith, ‘I have seen the Lord’. At the beginning of the gospel reading, Mary was a disciple weeping for the dead Jesus. At the end of the reading, she was a joyful messenger of the Easter good news. We are all on a similar journey towards a fully mature Easter faith. Part of that journey will involve for us, as it did for Mary, a letting go of Jesus. Mary had to learn that she could not possess Jesus. There was more to Jesus as risen Lord than she imagined. We too have to let go of Jesus as we might want him to be. We cannot possess the risen Lord, no more than Mary could. We can only allow ourselves to be possessed by him who said of himself, ‘I am the Truth’. I have recently been readingBenedict XVI: Last Testament in his own words. Towards the end of this extended interview he says, ‘We cannot say, “I have the truth”, but the truth has us, it touches us. And we try to let ourselves be guided by this touch’.

 And/Or

(vii) Easter Tuesday

At the beginning of today’s gospel reading, we find a very sorrowful Mary Magdalene. She is outside the tomb of Jesus weeping. Not only has Jesus been crucified, but now, in her judgement, some people have stolen his body. When someone dies tragically and the person’s body is not found, it makes the grieving process for loved ones all the more difficult and complicated. The risen Lord was present to Mary in her grief, just as earlier in John’s gospel Jesus had been present to the grieving Martha and Mary in the wake of the death of their brother Lazarus. Yet, Mary Magdalene’s grief blinded her to the presence of the risen Lord. The risen Jesus was no less present to his disciples than he had been during his public ministry, but his presence as risen Lord was of a different quality. He had been transformed through his resurrection from the dead and the mode of his presence to his disciples had also been transformed and wasn’t as easily recognizable. The two disciples on the road to Emmaus did not recognize him in the stranger who journeyed with them. With the exception of the beloved disciple, the group of disciples in a boat on the Sea of Galilee after Easter did not recognize the Lord in the stranger who called out to them from the shore. Now Mary Magdalene images the risen Lord who speaks to her to be the gardener. We too often fail to recognize the many ways the risen Lord is present to us. He can be present to us in the gardener, or in the one who walks with us on our journey or in the one who calls out to us from the shore. The same kind of deep sadness that Mary Magdalene experienced can blind us to the Lord’s presence to us in such dark times. Mary Magdalene recognized the risen Lord when he called her name, when he related to her in a very personal way. The Lord calls out to us by name too; he wants to enter into a deeply personal relationship with each of us. This Easter we are invited to allow ourselves to become more attuned to the Lord calling us by name, speaking a word of light and life into our own uniquely personal situation in life.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  revmartinhogan@gmail.com

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

[faiseuse-d-histoires]

Would you agree that Dany was a tyrant?

Mmmm... Do I agree with the plot D&D gave us? Well, first of all... Nope. Not at all. Tyrant or not, there were a lot of bad writing and incoherences in this. 

Plus, I think you know exactly where I stand. And to add with my own arguments, I think you should read some of the brilliant metas I’ve reblogged. You may find interesting things, told in a better way and more precise than I could do myself.

As for tyrant. Let’s be clear about this, and set a common ground. I don’t know how you define “tyrant”, so I’m going to go with a few definitions.

Did you know that being a “tyrant” was at first not presented as a bad thing in Antiquity? It was not connoted at first with bad ruling and abuse of power. It only meant that power had been taken by force. By that definition, it could fit Daenerys with her invasion of King’s Landing (Astapor, Yunkai and Meeren are more particular cases, as there was a good part of the people actually choosing Daenerys as their leader... but still, it hadn’t been done legally). It was clearly a matter of taking the power with armies.But by that definition, Robert Baratheon was a tyrant. Aegon Targaryen too. And no other house is safe from that definition, even the Starks. Bronn had said so himself: the great families all took their place with brutality and/or tricks. Honor was a thing that had been created when these families actually settled down to think about their policies. 

Heck, even Jon and Sansa could be seen as tyrants, they had seized power at Winterfell from the Bolton with armies! (the Bolton being also tyrants by themselves)

So, in this case, we have a definition which could fit quite a lot of people in Westeros. 

Let’s take the other, which is more employed today, in a pejorative way. 

“A person exercising power or control in a cruel, unreasonable, or arbitrary way.”

Let’s separate Book Dany from her TV counterpart, would you? At this point, they became different characters entirely after a few seasons. 

“A cruel way”:cruelty can be expressed in a lot of ways, and is also linked with the way the others see the act. 

It can be by forcing one’s views on the others for example. But here, until season 8, we’ve seen Daenerys actually trying to adapt in the culture she was set in, even more so in her book counterpart: she ate like them, dressed like them, talked their langage with them. The only thing she disagreed clearly in Essos was the fighting pits and the crucifixion of the slaves, and it was for what? For their brutality and because it was the sign of the oppression of the masters, who were the ones organizing it (no, the slaves did not enjoy to kill each other for their own amusement).It’s not like Viserys who didn’t care about trying to understand the culture he was in, and thought everyone was waiting for him. Had he seized power, he would have been a true tyrant, and Daenerys shows that, when he wouldn’t adapt to the Dothraki’s culture. 

Crucifying some masters was a cruel move, yes, and the TV series really simplified that by seeing most of them were crucified, when in the books, those who were crucified were those who had harassed the most the slaves according to them. It was cruel, yes. But so was crucifying children and men and women, as it had been done so by the masters (oh, tyranny once again. funny).. 

Show Daenerys had always been described as more brutal and unwilling to compromise than her book counterpart. Whereas we see Book!Dany negociating, caring about the people at the point of seeing personnally that sick and/or injured ones are taken care of. Show Daenerys had been more portrayed as a distant figure mostly, and all the things that could show her being politically savvy had sadly been used for other characters, to clearly show she needed to be kept in check, or to show that other characters were good advisors. And that is clearly disgusting. In the books, Dany doesn’t consider she has the right to rule just because of her Targaryen blood and her dragons, and she knows she has to prove herself. She does everything she can for that, sacrifying her own happiness by marrying a Meereen noble. In the TV show, it was described as actually useless, whereas in the books, it had actually had its own role to play. 

“unreasonable, arbitrary way”: well, for that part, everyone can be described as a tyrant. People aren’t always reasonable. Take Show!Sansa with North Independance for example. Why would she directly ask Dany it while they are being at war with everyone? Why couldn’t she wait for a better time, and actually find something to offer Show!Daenerys in return? (ANd no, you can’t count food and armies for King’s Landing as it; food was part of the guest rights and armies had been promised because Daenerys actually set that bargain: “you fight for me, I fight for you.” And actually, is North independance really a way to solve anything in that country? Nope, to survive winters, the North need alliances with the other kingdoms, and the fact that it was united with it as one really helped the trade between the territories.I personnally think she considered that North Independance meant her own independance, which would actually make sense considering her traumas.  

Take Jon at the Battle of the Bastards. Was he reasonable that time? Nope, and he had good reasons not to be: his brother was about to die, and his sister kind of forgot to tell him she had other cards on her sleeve, so they couldn’t create a plan that actually made sense together according to it. And let’s be honest, the Northerners did not raise Jon as KitN because he was reasonable, but because he had Stark Blood, just as Sansa became QitN because her brother accepted she set the North as an independant kingdom (not really reasonable for both of them, don’t you think?)

Also, by all these definitions, Cersei was a complete tyrant. Tywin was a complete tyrant. Joffrey too.  

Daenerys though? It’s much more complex than what you let on.Especially when you have to add for that the cultural and psychological parts, with the Dothraki especially. Did she oppress the Dothraki? No, these ones choose her. The slaves in Astapor, Meeren and Yunkai? No, they choose her (even if at one point, they turned on her. But that was also because of bad decisions that are not included in the books, and propaganda from the masters). It was the nobles in Essos and Westeros that truly had problems with that, because it actually questioned their own tyranny.

Had not Daenerys been strong-willed, she would not have had survived. And that is something that you should always keep in mind while seeing her character. 

 But in the end, I guess it’s like what happened in the War of the Roses and the beginning of the Tudors monarchy. Only those who claimed victory and kept it got to decide what was right and what was wrong. Daenerys was truly seen as a “tyrant” in the bad way in the end because men (and one woman) decided she was.But what was the most important, I think, was the complexity of her character, who had been seriously reduced and trampled on in the last seasons, and the message it gives to women and persons with traumas.

Daenerys deserved better. We deserved better.  

[marginalgloss]

the penknife through the boards

‘...days, even weeks later, he was sitting on the grey pebbles of an island, one of the innumerable cold grey Chonos islands, sullenly training his glass not on any wildly exotic migrant but the commonplace resident blackish (but white-footed) oyster-catcher wading about in search of its living. Farther along there was another, a lacklustre female; and neither betrayed the slightest interest in the other: clearly this was not their breeding season, whatever the snipe might think...He fixed it with his telescope, and there indeed was Jacob looking at him through another and making signs – untimely mirth? Whatever the signs were they were very soon lost as the brig rounded yet another great sea-worn cliff in the direction of Surprise, and Stephen’s attention was at once seized by a very noble sight – two black-necked swans flying steadily south, quite low over the water, so low that he could hear the rhythmic beating of their wings. ‘I cannot just sit here, watching pale-footed oyster-catchers,’ said Maturin aloud. ‘But what other course is open to me?’’

Blue at the Mizzen is the last book that Patrick O’Brian finished before he died in 2000, aged 85. There would be another unfinished novel published posthumously but, having worked my way slowly through this series, I don’t feel I need to read it. By all accounts it ends mid-sentence; I doubt it would contribute much in the way of what is fashionably called closure. As it stands this final book ends on a pleasingly optimistic chord. But there is nothing final about it, no sense of an ending close at hand. The writer Jo Walton has written an excellent series of short blogs on this series, and in her assessment of this one she mentions how it seems like O’Brian would have gone on writing this series as long as he drew breath. It’s hard to disagree. 

With Napoleon out of the picture, the plot here is effectively a fictionalised re-telling of another episode from the life of Lord Cochrane, namely his role in the fight for independence of Peru, and the creation of the Peruvian navy. Earlier novels have mentioned this for some time, and the politics of it are quite complicated, but for the reader it is largely an excuse for an epic transatlantic sea voyage from Britain all the way to the Pacific. By this stage O’Brian’s descriptive writing is not what it was, nor is his pacing, but it’s solid, compelling stuff. The gentle wash of his long sentences, with their curious pedantry, nested sub-clauses and old-fashioned elegance, is never less than charming.

Even at this late stage, the author is setting up characters to play a greater role in future instalments (though of course there would be none). Christine Wood returns to Maturin’s attention and affection, and there is Horatio Hanson, the son of a Duke who is reluctantly accepted by Aubrey as a midshipman. Hanson redeems himself on a number of occasions, almost to the degree of being set up by the author as a sort of apprentice to Aubrey. There’s even some nice scenes back in England with Sarah and Emily where it seems inevitable that we must return to them at some stage to witness another stage in their lives. Here, more so than in the preceding novels, O’Brian really seems to be taking an interest in the younger members of his cast of characters. 

It ends with something of a bang. There’s a big battle, and Aubrey is quite badly wounded in the melee. In fact he comes out of it far worse than in any recent confrontation. But once word of his exploits reaches home, his dream is granted, or at least he achieves that measure of security which he has long craved: he is made a proper admiral. Thus, I imagine, he sails home a hero. (That is assuming Jack survives his wounds. In another version of this story that happens only in my mind, he dies on the long journey home. But I can’t imagine O’Brian ever countenancing such a thing.) 

Maturin has done all right, too; Christine Wood might have refused his initial proposal of marriage, but she does so in such a way that seems to leave it an open question. I imagine a future in which they live together in a sort of celibate, platonic ideal of more-than-friendship, residing perhaps in a quiet wing of the greater Aubrey household. There is a very striking sequence in which Maturin believes he sees a vision of Christine, while riding alone in South America:

‘On the next stretch they passed through an invisible barrier into a thinner, cooler air, and there were his – not illusions: perceptions might be the better word – of Christine again, clearer and sharper now, particularly as she moved across a dark wall of rock. A tall, straight, lithe figure, walking easily and well: he remembered with the utmost clarity how, when she was reading or playing music or training her glass on a bird, or merely reflecting, she would be entirely apart, remote, self-contained; and then how she would be wholly with him when he moved or spoke. Two strikingly different beings; and the delight in her company, as he delighted even in the memory of it, seemed to him essential happiness, fulfilment. Of course he was a man, quite markedly so, and he would have liked to know her physically: but that was secondary, a very remote stirring compared with gazing at this phantasm – this now remarkably clear and sharply-defined phantasm against the rock-face.’

This passage also serves as a fine summary of the relationship between Jack and Stephen. Two strikingly different beings delighting in one another’s company – each entirely apart, alone, yet coming together in movement and speech. This is about as intimate as people can ever get in O’Brian’s world.

***

I’ve now written something about all of these novels. (Unfortunately tumblr does not provide me with a convenient way to list them, but you can find all the pieces by clicking on this tag.) Summarising them turns out to be easy, in a way, because they are so continuous that after a while one blends into the next. They are so very much part of a greater whole that in a very real sense they might as well be part of a single endless manuscript. The final part of it might have been lost but that detracts little from what remains.

These novels are timeless in the sense that when you read them you forget the order in which they were written. There are machinations of plot, but these are mostly incidental. Nothing is allowed to disturb the beautiful essential routine of naval life in the early nineteenth century. Bacon and eggs and toast for breakfast, and coffee. The practice of gunnery in the afternoons, at captain’s expense. Port after dinner and toasted cheese in a silver dish, followed by a duet between cello and violin. There is something comforting about all this. The books are formed around a conservative vision of life which seems alien to life in the twenty-first century. It might even have seemed alien to most people in the nineteenth century. You could say with confidence that these books belong to no time at all. 

It is the opposite to when we call something ‘dated’. When we say something is dated, we mean we notice the cultural residue of the time it was made in the details of its production. Almost all films and popular music are dated because they are reliant on era-specific technology as a means of reproduction. Most novels are also dated, for different reasons. O’Brian’s books are not dated. The first book was published in 1969, and the last book was published in 1999, and you would never know this from reading them. There’s no crack in the text against which we can press ourselves to glimpse the twentieth century drifting by. 

Perhaps there’s a pedantic argument that says this cannot be the case. Perhaps we can find literary techniques at work in these books that would have been totally alien to a reader in the Napoleonic era. This may well be true. But what I mean to say is that these books do better than most in allowing the author to entirely disappear within them. Better to say, in fact, that the books themselves — all twenty-odd of them — speak with a singular voice best ascribed to the books, and not the author. It is as though they wrote themselves until one day they stopped.

But of course they didn’t really write themselves. In the last few years of his life certain facts about O’Brian came to light that were, at best, embarrassing; at worst, a minor scandal. We learned that he left (or abandoned) his first wife and child while the latter suffered from a disorder of the spine. He may have lied about being an intelligence agent and he may have lied about his sailing experience, or at least his did nothing to correct those misapprehensions amongst his fans. His name was not even O’Brian; his Irish ancestry was, apparently, a convenient fiction. Little of this is awful enough to be placed beyond the category of ordinary human failings, though much of it seems strange, or even cruel. But once known it is difficult to forget about. And if Master and Commander was published tomorrow it seems inconceivable that the same author could escape similar scrutiny for so long. 

Today we expect artists to be good people. We need them to be exemplars of quality. We need to admire them. Our expectations for them are higher than they are for politicians or other public figures. It used to be the other way around: the politician would be crucified in the press for cheating on his wife, while artists could sleep with whomever and ingest whatever in the name of expanding the boundaries of the possible. Now, we already expect the worst of politicians. We expect them to lie, to cheat, and even to misbehave in their personal lives, perhaps because we have grown accustomed to accepting the line between personal and professional conduct. But the artist must be always at work. And we want them to be everything we can’t be: happy, secure, modest, successful. With moments of excitement, perhaps, but for the most part we want them to be dependable, capable, calm. We want them to be honest.

All of this is what is so appealing in O’Brian’s novels. Theirs is a vision of a world at work which is also, somehow, a work at rest. It is a very old English vision: the peasant in his field, the craftsman in his shop, the soldier at the gates, and the lord in his tower. All capable, calm, and happy in their understanding of what the world requires of them and how they must relate to it. The ideal mood is of things ticking over under the oversight of a supremely competent leader. An authoritarian? Well, perhaps. Democracy is certainly out of it; revolutionaries and radicals of all kinds are never to be trusted in these books. How much better to be ruled by a benevolent king of some sort. Rule by consent, of course, but it must be a rigid, unspoken sort of consent. 

There is something wonderfully comforting about all of this. To give yourself over to someone else — to put all your trust in your own well-being in the judgement of that person — this is what these characters do for one another. The ship is only the symbol of all that: the thing which endures through ingenuity, in spite of everything, even though it is so desperately fragile. There’s a line somewhere in those books where Maturin remarks that he feels safe within the thick timbers of the HMS Surprise, and a seaman laughs, and says that there are parts of the Surprise so thin you could push a penknife through the boards and find the ocean. It is a haunting image, but a resonant one. The boards are always so thin. 

[julibf]

Jon Snow as a foil to Daenerys

I know that many people here talks about how Jon and Dany lives work in parallel to each other and how they are destined to be with each other, but I want to discuss how they work better as foil to each other.

The relationship between Jon and Dany has been developed pretty much from season 1. Daenerys never had a home and a family, but she had a name, a very important name that brought her some good things and some bad things, but her life was pretty much defined by that name; Jon Snow in the other hand, never had a name but he did had a home and a family that loved him dearly and the relationship he formed in that family and the values his Stark father passed to him did shape him to be the man he is today defining him in teh same way that Daenerys name defined her. One was defined by a name, the other by the actions of his Stark family.

Daenerys in season one marries Khal Drogo and becomes a queen, now she has servants and subjects, she has handmaids to wash her and care for her, she has slaves and all the luxury that comes with being a Khalessi; Jon Snow in season 1 leaves Winterfell to join the Nights Watch, as we know he starts workign as a steward for Lord Commander Mormont, Jon is literally cleaning toilets, changing sheets and following orders from Lord commander himself and others members of the Nights Watch.

Later Daenerys goes to conquer cities in Essos, she is literally forcing Meereen to take her as a Queen using force and her armies; Jon in the other hand is chosen to be the new Lord commander of the Nights Watch by vote. One seeks power, the other accepts because see as his duty.

Daenerys decides to bring her people to Westeros to get what she wants, the Iron Throne; Jon is leading his people to save them from the Army of the Dead. One is using her followers for a personal goal, the other is leading his followers to save their lives.

The foil aspect gets quite clear in a very famous parallel scene, the one where both are in the center of a mountain of people. In Daenerys scene, she is being celebrated and treated as a Goddess, there is joy and lightness in the scene. Jon scene is the oppossite, he is being literally crushed by his own army, he is grasping for air and trying to stay alive, there is no joy in that scene and its filmed in very dark tones.

Another very easy episode where we can see them as foil for each other is the Battle of the Bastards. In that episode when Daenerys returns to Meereen decides to attack the rebel cities she wants to crucify the masters, burn down their ships and armies and turn their cities into dust, its Tyrion who stops her and convinces her that there is another plan; Then a few momments later we see Jon Snow offer himself in a single combat against Ramsey Bolton, he is doing that because he wants to avoid unecessary deaths but he is stopped by Ramsey who turns down the offer. One wanted to kill as much as she could, the other offer himself to save the soldiers lives.

Can you see now, how they work as foil? Thats why I believe that Daenerys with her dragons along with the Army of the Dead. And in the end Jon and Daenerys will fight against each other. Daenerys will destroy the Kingdom, and Jon will be the one rebuilding it.

We have those two very interesting passages when I was rereading ASOS.

Bran II, ASOS

"Up and down," Meera would sigh sometimes as she walked, "then down and up. Then up and down again. I hate these stupid mountains of yours, Prince Bran."

"Yesterday you said you loved them."

"Oh, I do. [...] I love them more than I can say."

Bran made a face at her. "But you just said you hated them."

"Why can't it be both?" Meera reached up to pinch his nose.

"Because they're different," he insisted. "Like night and day, or ice and fire."

"If ice can burn," said Jojen in his solemn voice, "then love and hate can mate. Mountain or marsh, it makes no matter. The land is one."

======================================================

And later we have

Davos III, ASOS

[Davos] "What is it you would have me see?"

[Melisandre] "The way the world is made. The truth is all around you, plain to behold. The night is dark, and full of terrors, the day bright and beautiful, and full of hope. One is black, the other white. There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet. Male and female. Pain and pleasure. Winter and summer. Evil and good." She took a step toward him. "Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Everywhere, the war."

>"The war?" asked Davos.

"The war," she affirmed. "There are two, Onion Knight. Not seven, not one, not a hundred or a thousand. Two! Do you think I crossed half the world to put yet another vain king on yet another empty throne? The war has been waged since time began, and before it is done, all men must choose where they will stand. On one side is R'hllor, the Lord of Light, the Heart of Fire, the God of Flame and Shadow. Against him stands the Great Other whose name may not be spoken, the Lord of Darkness, the Soul of Ice, the God of Night and Terror. [...] It is death we choose, or life. Darkness, or light."

So, what you think about this?

[wendynerdwrites]

ooh, i found another prompt - “we’ve been engaged to be married since we were three but this is the first time we’ve met and your portraits really don’t do you justice” au

jonsa prompt - “your country’s trying to take over/annex my country and you’re making it difficult to hate you because you’re so nice and attractive stop it” au :)

I decided to combine these two, hope you don’t mind!

Father has never been skilled at ruses, and this is yet more proof of that. His ploy to send a decoy retinue to Moat Cailin to draw the enemy’s attention and have Sansa sneak to the castle with a smaller, less noticeable train has failed horribly.

They capture her about an hour after the dawn, raiding her camp with an eerie efficiency. The whole thing is odd. None of her people are killed and only a few are injured. Most of those injuries are suffered on the other side, inflicted by a furious Lady. Indeed, it is downright polite, with the Targaryen forces just appearing and riding in, surrounding the camp at once. And when she is brought out to surrender, it isn’t to some muscular knight but a fat man in a robe who bows to her, blushes, and kisses her hand.

“Greetings to you, Princess Sansa, I am Samwell of House Tarly, friend and officer of your betrothed, Prince Jon of House Targaryen. These men and I have come to escort you to the campground of your intended. He is most excited to meet you at long last.”

Glaring daggers at the rotund man, Sansa responded, “Escort me, Lord Samwell? We both know that this is not the case. My people and I were riding for Moat Cailin, the seat of the Heir to the Three Realms. I was heading there for the same reason your prince is no longer my betrothed. He killed my brother.”

Samwell flinches. “You are mistaken, My Lady, I assure you. Please, for the sake of peace and good faith, just allow me to escort you to meet my master.”

“Of course I’m coming with you,” Sansa replies, “But this isn’t some friendly journey. Let’s call this what it is. I am your prisoner. Or your prince’s, rather.”

“I promise you, Madam, the prince only has the purest of intentions.”

“I’m so sure,” she rolls her eyes, “Let’s just go.”

The journey is a few hours, silent and awkward. Her horse is saddled and she rides alongside Lord Samwell, who acts like he’s afraid of her. Her servants and ladies are shown every courtesy.

The prince is not present to greet her when they arrive at the sprawling war camp. She inquires about his whereabouts, prompting another blush from her jailor.

“Prince Jon was called away to attend to other matters—”

“—So he’s sacking another part of my country,” she interrupts, “Lovely.”

Samwell looks like he wants to argue, but thinks better of it. “He is to return this evening. Until then, you are invited to stay in the prince’s own tent with your maids. Your things shall be brought to you. And if you need anything at all, you are only to ask. I know you’re an enthusiastic reader. I am as well. I have brought a great many books–”

“—So have I.” She wishes this man would stop with this. It’s insulting. She has no choice in being here. His masters killed her older brother, broke their vows of peace, and are invading her country. Her people are suffering and dying thanks to the Targaryen lust for power. They want to make a pawn of her. No amount of euphemisms or books change that. If this sorry sod or his prince think they are going to charm her into forgetting this, they are sorely mistaken.

“…I will have them delivered to you, then.”

The prince’s tent is more like a house made of crimson silk. There is a bedchamber, bath chamber, dining room, map room, even a private privy dug. Sansa reflects that it is fitting that a Targaryen is literally creating new places for his shit all over her country.

A bath is poured, and she and her maids are allowed to use her own soaps and oils once they’re inspected. When the guards deliver them, Sansa asks them if they’re enjoying their time rifling through her smallclothes. The beet like color they turn gives her some satisfaction.

Once she’s bathed and dressed, her books and her sewing kit are brought to her along with a meal of fresh trout, buttered asparagus, and lemon cakes.

“The prince has heard they’re your favorite,” Lord Samwell says when he visits.

“Did he? Funny, I am certain I told him in a letter years ago. You’d think he’d have read that. But then, I always did suspect that he never really looked at them. The replies that were written for him were a bit… dry.”

Samwell goes red again. “No! He read them all! He—” Then he stops and dismisses himself, clearly wary of how she’ll interpret anything else he says.

Sansa finishes eating and excuses herself to be alone in the bedchamber. For about half an hour, she sobs into her captor’s blood-colored pillows.

She hasn’t even gotten to Moat Cailin yet and she’s already failed. Prince Jon clearly considers them still betrothed. He will make her marry him, force himself on her, and try to claim the North through her. Father will be forced to disinherit her to keep that from occurring. And then the Targaryens will probably kill her once she’s no longer useful. Unless…

Oh, gods. Prince Jon was clever enough to side-step Father’s ruse. How, though? A spy, perhaps? Everyone knew Sansa would be headed to Moat Cailin. The port had to be protected, it was the heir’s duty to oversee it, and Sansa became heir upon Robb’s death. It’s why Father used the decoy retinue. Someone probably leaked it to the Targaryens. Which means there are Targaryen agents at Winterfell.

Surely, if the prince is shrewd enough to capture her, he must realize that the king would be compelled to disinherit Sansa if Jon wed her. There was only one way to prevent that and keep the claim safe: killing the king.

For all she knows, assassins are slipping poison into Father’s tea right now. They might not stop at him, either. In the South, their inheritance laws put trueborn sons, regardless of age, ahead of their sisters in the line of succession. What if they decide Bran and Baby Rickon are too much of a threat and target them as well?

Sansa tries to keep a clear head, tries to compose herself. She might still escape. Surely, she and her ladies can think of something…

But when she dries her eyes and enters the dining chamber to greet them, she finds two guards: one huge, one skinny, in the room as well. Furthermore, one of her ladies is missing.

“Where is Lady Dacey?” Sansa demands of one of the guards.

“She’s being hosted in another tent,” the brute says, leering, “Want to keep all you ladies safe and sound, don’t we? We don’t want you to get yourselves hurt.”

Sansa’s heart sinks. She knows what he’s really saying. Dacey is a hostage, an insurance policy to keep her from trying to escape. “How do I know she hasn’t already gotten hurt?”

They look at each other. The skinny one smiles. “Lord Samwell says that if you wish, we’re to escort you to Lady Dacey so you can see for yourself.”

“I insist upon it.”

They march her through the camp to another lord’s tent. Dacey, true to her Mormont heritage, acts strong and fierce. Completely unharmed.

“Don’t give up hope, Princess,” the older girl tells her, clasping her hands, “It will be alright.” She glances at the guards, then gives Sansa a significant look. We’ll find a way.

Sansa isn’t allowed to speak to Dacey long, and is escorted back to the prince’s tent a few minutes later. She stares blankly at a book, mind racing, trying to figure out how to get away without sacrificing anyone. Nothing comes to her. If she leaves their sight, they’ll start murdering her people, one by one. The Targaryens may have failed to take the North for centuries, but they’re still conquerors. They’ve taken half of Westeros and many places in the East. They say that Queen Daenerys Targaryen, sister to King Rhaegar, crucified a hundred Masters in Yunkai during her conquest, that she did it where all their families could see. They’ll probably slit one throat after another.

What leverage does she have? None, really. Nearly all of her country’s forces are fending off invaders elsewhere. By the time her family could possibly learn of her predicament, Jon will have wedded and bedded her. They have her household. They have men everywhere. All Sansa has is herself.

Perhaps if she held a knife or a fork to her throat? No, that would only get her people killed as well. Not even her death can be used.

There’s no helping it. All she can do is wait for an opportunity, because she certainly doesn’t have one now.

She remains in the bedchamber, alone, with her books and sewing. She works on the saddlebags she’s making Arya for her next Name Day and rereads some legends from the Age of Heroes.

The sun starts to set and before long, Sansa hears the arrival of scores and scores of men. Her “betrothed” is back. Her stomach lurches.

Her ladies enter, and Wylla steps forward.

“Let me guess,” Sansa says, shutting her book and rising, “They want me to come out and welcome my beloved home?”

“Er, no, Princess,” Wylla says, looking somewhat embarrassed, “Um, they said the prince intends to make himself presentable, and wishes to take supper with you once he’s freshly bathed and changed.”

Sansa laughs. She never figured Jon as a vain sort. His letters— if, indeed, he wrote them— never indicated that. Nor had it ever been mentioned by the diplomats who met him. As a little girl, Sansa used to approach any and every dignitary who had recently spent time in King’s Landing and interrogate them about her betrothed. It became a running joke that any civil servant wishing to gain royal favor better pay close attention to the young prince.

“So are we to sit in some other tent while he primps?” She asks.

“Er, no. Apparently he intends to do that in another tent. But…” Wylla stops and grunts, grinding her teeth for a couple seconds.

“What?”

“It…”

“—It was suggested, Princess,” Alys, another of her ladies interrupts, “That you prepare yourself for supper if you wish. That you dress to meet your betrothed.” She shudders.

Sansa begins to laugh. These people can’t be serious.

“Fine,” she says, “I will. Wylla, get me my gardening kirtle. Alys, put my hair into the tightest, most severe bun you can manage.”

The girls actually laugh at this. Her gardening kirtle is more like a grey smock that she wore when she was digging through the glass gardens at Winterfell. The sort of thing made to get earthworms on it.

Alys yanks her hair back, making her look like a stern septa without her wimple. Sansa’s famous for her auburn tresses. She knows for a fact that Prince Jon had liked it in all the portraits her family sent over the years. She’ll restrain every bit of it. Not a single strand will be allowed to flow freely.

Letty, another lady, sighs, “The problem is, Princess, you’ll never look properly dowdy.”

“Well, we work with what we have,” Sansa states evenly. She sighs.

“Try belching and farting throughout the meal,” Wylla suggests, “Pick things out of your teeth, lick your fingers..”

“…Pick your nose, even!” Letty declares. Despite themselves, all of them laugh at this.

All except one of her ladies, who has been silent this whole time. Sansa eyes her through the mirror.

“You don’t agree, Sara?” She asks the quietest of her waiting women.

Her friend bites her lip for a moment, then speaks. “I just… I just think you’re more likely to make progress by charming him than repelling him. He’s gone to all this trouble to have you. If he has brutal intentions, then all you can do by acting like this is make him angry. But if you charm him… Well, you lose nothing, and you could gain some influence. I’m not saying you should just tell him whatever he wants to hear, of course. I don’t think that will work. But if he thought there’s a chance to win you… He might try to. You can use that.”

Sara pauses, then smiles, “Then, once you’ve gotten what you need from him, you break him completely.”

Sansa looks at Alys. “Release my hair. Wylla, get the plum velvet and my topaz necklace. Oh, and the silver and amethyst hair net.”

Despite the attraction she feels towards the “manipulate and break him” plan, Sansa does have to remind herself not to spit in his face once she enters the dining chamber. She holds her head high as she steps into the room. She does not curtsy. They are of exactly the same rank, and she has no respect for him.

His back is turned for a moment, but then he turns. And Sansa is rather taken aback by the handsome, kind-looking face that greets her.

Prince Jon’s curls are a deep brown that looks almost as black as his velvet doublet. His lips are full, pouting, and as well shaped as any woman’s, and is framed by a closely trimmed beard. He is blessed with high cheekbones and a strong, aquiline nose. His eyes are dark, expressive, and penetrating. They watch her anxiously as he bows.

“Princess Sansa,” he says, voice deep and raspy, “I… It… You…”

Sansa is astonished. He is leading an invasion into my country, has kidnapped me, and is stuttering like a bashful child. “I…?”

The prince winces slightly at his own awkwardness and licks his lips nervously. “My Uncle Viserys said that your portraits were probably embellished. That you couldn’t possibly be that pretty. He was right, I suppose. You’re far more beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so lovely.”

Is this supposed to charm me? “So you haven’t met your Aunt Daenerys, then? I hear she is the most beautiful woman in all the world.”

“I have. And she isn’t. It’s just the purple eyes. They’re rare enough for people to be distracted by them. Her beauty is overstated. Whoever says that hasn’t met you.”

An odd response, to say the least. Jon was never so verbose in his letters. Most of the time, they were literal, bulleted lists of questions. How have you been since you last wrote? What’s your favorite type of bird? Do you have different names for the stars in the North? Who do you like better, Florian or Artys Arryn? Did you finish that gown you were working on? Have you ever sailed on a ship?

More evidence that he didn’t write them, she supposes. Sansa purses her lips and eyes the food set out. Braised lamb, sweet potatoes, spinach, wine, and, of course, lemoncakes. All served on gilded plate.

“I’m not sure that I’m hungry,” she remarks, hesitant. For all she knows, the wine could have some sort of sleeping draught in it. She could wake up naked in his bed, maidenhead gone.

His face falls into a grave expression. “Are you planning to go on a hunger strike?” He asks her quietly. The question catches her off-guard.

“I thought of it,” she admits, “But there are ways you could force me to eat, and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

The prince takes a deep breath and walks toward her. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, or strike. Instead, he just goes to pull out her chair. “Will you sit, at least? And speak to me?”

Sansa goes to sit. Jon pulls his own chair, already fairly close, to the place right next to her and sits as well.

“Princess Sansa, I am not your enemy.”

Don’t spit in his face. Don’t spit in his face. Don’t spit in his face. “Oh, so I suppose this is all just some big misunderstanding, then! I’m allowed to leave whenever I wish, and when I get to Moat Cailin, I’ll find that my brother has been alive all this time after all! And you and your army are just here on a goodwill tour!”

Jon cringes. “Princess, I didn’t kill your brother.”

“Then who put the poison in his cup, then?” Sansa demands. “Did the Others do it?”

“That’s what I want to find out. Someone wanted our countries to go to war again. They wanted the alliance to fail. So they killed your brother, knowing that my family would be blamed.”

“Or maybe your family did do it. Maybe after years of failing to take the North through force, you decided to do it through marriage, and you need my brother out of the way to do it.”

“If that were the case, why wouldn’t we wait to do that until after we’d been married?” Jon asks impatiently. “Once we actually had the next heir to the North in our control? Why would we kill him and let your father break the agreement? Why, if that was our aim, not wait until after the two of us were wed and kill your brother and your father instead of risking our chances?”

This shakes her. He makes an excellent point. But…

“…If not you, then who? Everyone loved Robb. And everyone was in favor of this alliance.”

“Not everyone, apparently,” Jon remarks, looking slightly relieved. “There are people who profit from war, after all. Mercenary captains. Generals who are otherwise useless and are unhappy in their retirement. People who hate one or both of our families.”

Sansa shakes her head. “Let’s say I believe you about Robb. If that’s the case, then why are you here, sacking our settlements?”

Jon cringes. “My father is… Impulsive. Not the wisest of men. When your father accused him of murder and broke the agreement, he wanted to summon Daenerys here to rain dragonfire down upon you. I already wanted to uncover what happened to your brother, so I convinced him to send me instead. If I didn’t get anything done, then Father would end up sending Daenerys anyways. So I’ve been here, trying to do just enough to satisfy him long enough to figure out what really happened. If you don’t believe me, I’ll take you to every town I’ve sacked. Let you assess the damage yourself. You’ll see I’m really not behaving like a would-be conqueror. But I’m running out of time, Sansa. My father is growing impatient. He wants me to get more done. And if I don’t…”

“…It’s a field of fire?” She asks, shivering.

The prince nods. “I’ll show you his letters if you don’t believe me. Whatever you want to see, I’ll show you. I have no secrets. But please understand this,” he grabs her hands in his, “I never, in a million years, wanted any harm to come to you or your family. I swear it on my mother’s life. I… I took you, yes, and I am sorry. I truly am. But I needed to do something that would satisfy my father, and I also need to get into Moat Cailin to investigate further. If I have you…”

Sansa swallows. “You could easily control what I see. Forge letters. Omit others. You want me to even consider believing you?”

Jon nods.

“Then let my household go free. Send them all back to their families, safe and sound.”

He hesitates for a moment. Sansa starts to rise, but he catches her wrist.

“Make an oath to me that you won’t try to escape or attack anyone if I do this,” he says gravely.

“I swear it, on my honor as a Stark.” He didn’t mention not hurting herself.

Jon closes his eyes. “Very well.”

To her astonishment, he makes good on his word. He has Sansa watch as they are granted permission to leave, as their transport is assembled. They are instructed to write to her the moment they arrive home, and to include something in their letter that only Sansa will understand. There are tearful good-byes. Dacey tries to protest, tries to stay behind, but Sansa begs her.

Jon gives her the keys to his desk. And she finds missives corroborating his story. He even invites House Stark to send emissaries to check up on her. He’s exacting, diligent, nearly exhaustive in his efforts to make sure she has everything possible to evaluate his story.

He never lays a hand on her. When they’re alone, he’s shy, flustered, and gentle. Sansa tries so hard not to like him.

“You know, you never told me what your favorite bird was.” He mentions to her one evening.

She looks up at him, stunned. “What?”

Jon swallows a mouthful of soup and wipes his face. “You remember when we were children? We wrote to one another all the time. My siblings used to tease me about how a girl three years younger could write so much better than I could. I was embarrassed, because they were right. You’d tell me these stories and such and I knew I could never compete. I was afraid you’d think I was an idiot and not want to marry me. So I would just write these long lists of questions to you. I wanted to know everything, and I loved the way you’d answer them sometimes. But you never told me what your favorite bird was.”

Her mouth goes dry. So those were from him. “Um, well… To be honest, I’m not sure. Doves are pretty, and they make such sweet sounds. But myna birds and parrots can supposedly speak, and I’ve always wanted to hear an animal say something. Blue jays and kingfishers are beautiful. Ravens are clever and useful… I suppose I have many favorite birds.”

Jon smiles. “That’s lovely. Do you have a favorite type of dog?”

Sansa looks at her lap and takes a deep breath. “Jon… I think it’s time we go to Moat Cailin.”

[sirtravisjacksonoftexas]

Is Jesus a mythical figure, based on the Sumerian goddess Inanna? Um, NO, and here is why:

Inanna was the Sumerian goddess of war, fertility and love. Queen of both Heaven and Earth, Inanna was known to the Babylonians as Ishtar (though the stories about Ishtar have differences from that of the Sumerian Inanna, reflecting different theologies). Inanna was considered the protector of prostitutes, and she was at times depicted at the keeper of the tablets of the Me, or cosmic laws. She fell in love with a minor god named Dumuzi (known to the Babylonians as Tammuz), only to lose him to the underworld. In some accounts this was for half of the year (fall and winter). When she had him for the other half, plants flourished (spring and summer).

Jesus Mythicists will claim that Jesus is based on this goddess, or that her cult at least influenced the Gospel stories. 

Considering this, I think it is an appropriate time to laugh.

Now that that’s over, let’s try to answer this question again without laughing.

Is Jesus based on…Inanna?

Let’s see why this is NOT the case.

1. Born of a virgin? 

No, she is the daughter of the moon god Sin, aka Suen aka Nanna, and Ningal (though in some sources her mother is not named). She was conceived the old-fashioned way.

3. Visited by Wise Men or Shepherds after she was born? No. Her lover Dummuzi was the god of shepherds, but there is no story of him visiting her after her birth.

4.Star proclaimed her birth?

No. She was identified with the planet Venus (aka the “Morning Star”), but this wasn’t a sign of her birth. If anything, it was symbolic of her descent into the underworld and return from it (Venus disappears and reappears in the night sky).

5. Miracle worker?

Yes, just like any other deity, big deal.

6. Bread and wine miracles? No.

7. Clothes stripped?

When Inanna went to the underworld, she had to pass through seven gates. At each gate, she had to discard jewelry (and at one point even her Me tablets). Eventually, at the seventh gate, she shucked her dress. According to Jesus Mythicists, this is supposed to be the basis for Jesus being stripped naked before being hung on a cross.

However…there is a problem.

You see, it was CUSTOMARY for those being crucified to be naked ! Roman soldiers were allowed by law to take the clothes of a person who was being crucified.

And what were the Roman Soldiers doing to Christ’s clothes in John 19:23-24?

Taking his clothes and casting lots, to see which one of them to get the clothing!

The story of Jesus being stripped naked wasn’t based on Inanna’s forced striptease; it was based on the Roman method of crucifixion.

8. Crucified?

No. While in the Underworld, the 7 judges of the underworld killed her with the “perishing stare of death.” Afterwards she was hung on a hook. (remember, Jesus died on the “upper” world, not under).

Oh, and by the way: Crucifixion wasn’t invented in ancient Sumer (the first civilization). It was invented in the 6th century BC, around 1400 years after the Sumerian Civilization ended.

Jesus Mythicists will protest, however, saying that, despite these facts, both Jesus and Inanna hung while dead; Inanna on a hook, Jesus on a cross. Thus, the latter must be derived from the former!

This objection is so weak that it doesn’t even deserve a response...But I’ll give one nonetheless for the fun of it. 

In UFC 3, a fighting event held in 1994, a master martial artist named Keith Hackney (5 feet 11, 200 pounds) fought Emmanuel Yarborough, a sumo wrestler who was 6 feet 8 inches tall and weighed at the time over 600 pounds. Yarborough was strong enough to curl 315 pounds 20 times  in a row. In terms of size and strength, Keith Hackney was outmatched, but by the time the fight was over…Keith Hackney emerged victorious. He was nicknamed “The Giant Killer” afterwards.

Now, Keith Hackney’s accomplishment is quite similar to fairy tale and mythological stories involving normal sized men or women facing giants, overcoming them with guile (think “Jack the giant killer”, or Odysseus and the Cyclops in Homer’s “Odyssey”). He did use superior fighting styles and strategies in that fight, thus outsmarting and outfighting the Sumo colossus.

Does this similarity with fairy tale stories like Jack the Giant Killer and myths like Odysseus mean that…Keith Hackney never did defeat Emmanuel Yarborough? Does it mean that his fight with Emmanuel Yarborough is a fiction, based on fairy tale stories and myths of normal sized  people overcoming giants?

Then why would Jesus’ crucifixion be based on Inanna hanging on a hook?

9.  Went to the underworld?

After he died, Jesus descended into Sheol (In the New testament called “Hades), which was pictured as being in the earth (Acts 2:31, Ephesians 6:8-10, see also Matthew 12:40). This was the Hebrew underworld. Afterwards, Jesus rose from the grave. True, Inanna went to her version of the underworld and returned as well…but so did numerous ancient mythological figures (and even monsters) who are never said by Jesus Mythicists to have striking parallels to Christ.

Hades (who shared the same name as the underworld. He was given charge of the underworld by Zeus, his older brother. He nevertheless rose back to the world of the living for a short time, to kidnap Persephone).

Persephone, as stated above, was kidnapped by Hades, who took her to the Underworld. She was eventually allowed to leave , but before she went she was tricked to each the Pomegranate of death. As a result, she can only stay on the earth for two thirds of every year. The other third, she has to go back to the underworld).

There were several others, such as Orpheus, Sisyphus (  (Had told his wife not to bury him or make offerings to him (customary offerings for the dead) if he passed away. When he did die, he told Hades about his lack of burial and offerings and asked permission to go back to earth to make sure that these things were done. Hades let him go…but when he realized that he had been duped, he dragged him back to the Underworld) , Hermes ( Watched over Hercules while he was in the underworld, but left when Hercules did. He also accompanied the spirits of the dead as they made their journey to the underworld. Being the messenger of Zeus, he would have no doubt sent messages to the god Hades.), Theseus (Theseus (went to the Underworld, was imprisoned by Hades, but Hercules freed him and brought him back to earth) and Cerberus, the three headed offspring of the monsters Typhon and Echidna (the latter half woman, half snake). 

The latter lived in Sicily in one version of her myth, the Peloponnese in another. Thus, Cerberus would have been conceived while on earth, only to be taken to the Underworld to keep its spirits within…only for Hercules to bring it out of the underworld and take it to the ancient Greek city of Mycenae.

Not much of a parallel then. 

Keep in mind: Inanna died while in the Underworld; Jesus died before going there.

10. Dead for three days?

No.

After waiting three days, the goddess Ninshubur (aka Nincubura) went to several gods, pleading for help. She visited Enlil first, but he refused. She visited Inanna’s father Sin/Seun/Nanna next, but he also refused. Then she visited Ea aka Enki, who,  despite being angry with Inanna, agreed to help. 

How long did this take? 

How long was Inanna in the Underworld?

We don’t know. The ancient texts do not say.

Indeed, we have to remember that Ninshubur had to wait three days after Inanna descended into the Underworld before seeking aid, not three days after Inanna died (Inanna didn’t know that she was going to be killed). We don’t know how long Inanna’s journey through the Underworld took, or at which point in those three days that she was killed.

11.  Resurrected?

Yes, but not by her own power.

Ea made two sexless beings and sent them to the underworld, to ease the suffering of Ereshkigal, Inanna’s sister and Queen of the Underworld. When Ereshkigal asked them what reward they would like, they asked that they would be allowed to revive Inanna. This was granted, and Inanna resurrected (though some sources use the word “reborn”), and eventually returned to the upper world.

Inanna’s resurrection is more similar to those in the Bible involving mere humans who were resurrected by God, instead of Christ, who is God incarnate and resurrected…himself.

Not much of a parallel, eh?

Folks, the comparisons between Jesus and Inanna are abysmally weak. Indeed, she oddly enough has more in common with Moses than with Christ (Had a set of law tablets, brought plagues on Sumer (Turned all  the well water into blood, then brought floods, and finally sandstorms. She did this because the Shu-kale-tuda, a gardener’s son and Sumerian, raped her while she was asleep), but these similarities don’t mean that Moses was a fictional character based on Inanna (once again, consider the parallels between Alexander the Great, a historical figure, and Achilles, a mythical one. Recall also the similarities between the Novella “Futility/Wreck of the Titan” and the Titanic disaster, which occurred 14 years later, as well as Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket” and the sinking of the Mignonette. Plus, the differences between Moses and Inanna FAR, FAR outweigh their few similarities.

No, Jesus was not based on Inanna, who was a myth.

Jesus…is real.

Sources: 

“Epics of Early Civilization” by Michael Kerrigan, Alan Lothian, Piers Vitebsky, and Jeremy Black (Consultant), 36-41 “The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Mythology” by Arthur Cotterell and Rachel Storm, 288 (See also 30-31, 47, 51, 74-75, 82-83

https://www.ancient.eu/Inanna/ 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fb4KIFtdRPI&feature=emb_title 

“The Penguin Dictionary of Classical Mythology” by Pierre Grimal, 133, 189, 197-99, 434 UFC 3 DVD

https://www.sherdog.com/news/articles/1/Keith-Hackney-Where-Is-He-Now-30163 

https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0352563/ 

https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1156762/?ref_=nmbio_bio_nm 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVs4930ERGw&feature=emb_title 

https://books.google.com/books?id=5lmrCQAAQBAJ&pg=PT90&dq=Who+is+Inanna%27s+mother?&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiO-uum7ZHlAhUPiqwKHYDgB-4Q6AEwA3oECAYQAg#v=onepage&q=Who%20is%20Inanna's%20mother%3F&f=false 

https://www.exploratorium.edu/ancientobs/chichen/HTML/caracol3.html 

https://www.history.com/topics/ancient-middle-east/sumer 

“The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament” by Craig S. Keener, 313 “In the Footsteps of Jesus” (A National Geographic Book), by Jean-Pierre Isbouts, 263  

https://www.britannica.com/topic/crucifixion-capital-punishment 

https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1172309229585125376.html?refreshed=yes 

https://sirtravisjacksonoftexas.tumblr.com/post/628113211750776832/do-supposed-parallels-between-the-gospels-and 

“Encyclopedia of Gods” by Michael Jordan, 114-15  

[dfroza]

A most sacred act

of laying down a life as a friend. the wine and the bread. the holy grail. the Ark of the Covenant. the Word of God. the True illumination of the Son through whom and for whom all things were made. the heavens and the universal garden of earth.

this is where the reading in the book of Matthew is leading into with Today’s chapter #26

And so this is what happened, finally. Jesus finished all His teaching, and He said to His disciples,

Jesus: The feast of Passover begins in two days. That is when the Son of Man is handed over to be crucified.

And almost as He spoke, the chief priests were getting together with the elders at the home of the high priest, Caiaphas. They schemed and mused about how they could trick Jesus, sneak around and capture Him, and then kill Him.

Chief Priests: We shouldn’t try to catch Him at the great public festival. The people would riot if they knew what we were doing.

Meanwhile Jesus was at Bethany staying at the home of Simon the leper. While He was at Simon’s house, a woman came to see Him. She had an alabaster flask of very valuable ointment with her, and as Jesus reclined at the table, she poured the ointment on His head. The disciples, seeing this scene, were furious.

Disciples: This is an absolute waste! The woman could have sold that ointment for lots of money, and then she could have given it to the poor.

Jesus knew what the disciples were saying among themselves, so He took them to task.

Jesus: Why don’t you leave this woman alone? She has done a good thing. It is good that you are concerned about the poor, but the poor will always be with you—I will not be. In pouring this ointment on My body, she has prepared Me for My burial. I tell you this: the good news of the kingdom of God will be spread all over the world, and wherever the good news travels, people will tell the story of this woman and her good discipleship. And people will remember her.

At that, one of the twelve, Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests.

Judas Iscariot: What will you give me to turn Him over to you?

They offered him 30 pieces of silver. And from that moment, he began to watch for a chance to betray Jesus.

On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, the disciples said to Jesus,

Disciples: Where would You like us to prepare the Passover meal for You?

Jesus: Go into the city, find a certain man, and say to him, “The Teacher says, ‘My time is near, and I am going to celebrate Passover at your house with My disciples.’”

So the disciples went off, followed Jesus’ instructions, and got the Passover meal ready. When evening came, Jesus sat down with the twelve. And they ate their dinner.

Jesus: I tell you this: one of you here will betray Me.

The disciples, of course, were horrified.

A Disciple: Not me!

Another Disciple: It’s not me, Master, is it?

Jesus: It’s the one who shared this dish of food with Me. That is the one who will betray Me. Just as our sacred Scripture has taught, the Son of Man is on His way. But there will be nothing but misery for he who hands Him over. That man will wish he had never been born.

At that, Judas, who was indeed planning to betray Him, said,

Judas Iscariot: It’s not me, Master, is it?

Jesus: I believe you’ve just answered your own question.

As they were eating, Jesus took some bread. He offered a blessing over the bread, and then He broke it and gave it to His disciples.

Jesus: Take this and eat; it is My body.

And then He took the cup of wine, He made a blessing over it, and He passed it around the table.

Jesus: Take this and drink, all of you: this is My blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. But I tell you: I will not drink of the fruit of the vine again until I am with you once more, drinking in the kingdom of My Father.

The meal concluded. Together, all the men sang a hymn of praise and thanksgiving, and then they took a late evening walk to the Mount of Olives.

Jesus: Scripture says,

I shall strike the shepherd,

and the sheep of the flock will scatter.

Just so, each of you will stumble tonight, stumble and fall, on account of Me.

Afterward I will be raised up. And I will go before you to Galilee.

Peter: Lord, maybe everyone else will trip and fall tonight, but I will not. I’ll be beside You. I won’t falter.

Jesus: If only that were true. In fact, this very night, before the cock crows in the morning, you will deny Me three times.

Peter: No! I won’t deny You. Even if that means I have to die with You!

And each of the disciples echoed Peter.

At that, Jesus led His disciples to the place called Gethsemane.

Jesus: I am going over there to pray. You sit here while I’m at prayer.

Then He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee with Him, and He grew sorrowful and deeply distressed.

Jesus: My soul is overwhelmed with grief, to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with Me.

He walked a little farther and finally fell prostrate and prayed.

Jesus: Father, this is the last thing I want. If there is any way, please take this bitter cup from Me. Not My will, but Yours be done.

When He came back to the disciples, He saw that they were asleep. Peter awoke a little less confident and slightly chagrined.

Jesus (to Peter): So you couldn’t keep watch with Me for just one short hour? Now maybe you’re learning: the spirit is willing, but the body is weak. Watch and pray and take care that you are not pulled down during a time of testing.

With that, Jesus returned to His secluded spot to pray again.

Jesus: Father, if there is no other way for this cup to pass without My drinking it—then not My will, but Yours be done.

Again Jesus returned to His disciples and found them asleep. Their eyes were heavy-lidded. So Jesus left them again and returned to prayer, praying the same sentiments with the same words. Again He returned to His disciples.

Jesus: Well, you are still sleeping; are you getting a good long rest? Now the time has come; the Son of Man is just about to be given over to the betrayers and the sinners. Get up; we have to be going. Look, here comes the one who’s going to betray Me.

There he was, Judas, one of the twelve leading a crowd of people from the chief priests and elders with swords and clubs; the chief priests and the elders were right there, ready to arrest Jesus. And Judas, the one who intended to betray Him, had said to the elders and the chief priests that he would give them a sign.

Judas Iscariot: I’ll greet Him with a kiss. And you will know that the one I kiss is the one you should arrest.

So at once, he went up to Jesus.

Judas Iscariot: Greetings, Teacher (he kisses Him).

Jesus: My friend, do what you have come to do.

And at that, the company came and seized Him. One of the men with Jesus grabbed his sword and swung toward the high priest’s slave, slicing off his ear.

Jesus: Put your sword back. People who live by the sword die by the sword. Surely you realize that if I called on My Father, He would send 12 legions of messengers to rescue Me. But if I were to do that, I would be thwarting the scriptural story, wouldn’t I? And we must allow the story of God’s kingdom to unfold. (to the crowds) Why did you bring these weapons, these clubs and bats? Did you think I would fight you? That I would try to dodge and escape like a common criminal? You could have arrested Me any day when I was teaching in the temple, but you didn’t.

This scene has come together just so, so that the prophecies in the sacred Scripture could be fulfilled.

And at that, all the disciples ran away and abandoned Him. The crowd that had arrested Jesus took Him to Caiaphas, the high priest. The scribes and elders had gathered at Caiaphas’s house and were waiting for Jesus to be delivered. Peter followed Jesus (though at some distance so as not to be seen). He slipped into Caiaphas’s house and attached himself to a group of servants. And he sat watching, waiting to see how things would unfold.

The high priest and his council of advisors first produced false evidence against Jesus—false evidence meant to justify some charge and Jesus’ execution. But even though many men were willing to lie, the council couldn’t come up with the evidence it wanted. Finally, two men stood up.

Two Men: Look, He said, “I can destroy God’s temple and rebuild it in three days.” What more evidence do you need?

Then Caiaphas the high priest stood up and addressed Jesus.

Caiaphas: Aren’t You going to respond to these charges? What exactly are these two men accusing You of?

Jesus remained silent.

Caiaphas (to Jesus): Under a sacred oath before the living God, tell us plainly: are You the Anointed One, the Son of God?

Jesus: So you seem to be saying. I will say this: beginning now, you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of God’s power and glory and coming on heavenly clouds.

The high priest tore his robes and screeched.

Caiaphas: Blasphemy! We don’t need any more witnesses—we’ve all just witnessed this most grievous blasphemy, right here and now. So, gentlemen, what’s your verdict?

Gentlemen: He deserves to die.

Then they spat in His face and hit Him. Some of them smacked Him, slapped Him across the cheeks, and jeered.

Some of the Men: Well, Anointed One, prophesy for us, if You can—who hit You? And who is about to hit You next?

As all this was going on in Caiaphas’s chamber, Peter was sitting in the courtyard with some servants. One of the servant girls came up to him.

Servant Girl: You were with Jesus the Galilean, weren’t you?

And just as Jesus had predicted, Peter denied it before everyone.

Peter: Not me! I don’t know what you’re talking about.

He went out to stand by the gate. And as he walked past, another servant girl recognized him.

Another Servant Girl (speaking to those standing around): That man over there—he was here with Jesus the Nazarene!

Again, just as Jesus had predicted, Peter denied it, swearing an oath.

Peter: I don’t know Him!

Peter then went to chat with a few of the servants. A little while later, some other servants approached him:

Other Servants: Look, we know that you must be one of Jesus’ followers. You speak like you are from the same area as His followers. You’ve got that tell-tale Galilean accent.

Cursing and swearing, Peter denied Him again.

Peter: I do not know Him!

As the exclamation left his mouth, a cock crowed. And Peter remembered. He remembered that Jesus had looked at him with something like pity and said, “This very night, before the cock crows in the morning, you will deny Me three times.” And Peter went outside, sat down on the ground, and wept.

The Book of Matthew, Chapter 26 (The Voice)

and to accompany Today’s chapter of Matthew here’s a set of posts by John Parsons of [Hebrew for Christians] as well as yesterday’s message by the Institute for Creation Research in Dallas that illuminates spiritual truth:

A verse from this week’s Torah (i.e., parashat Pinchas) reveals another great Name of God: Elohei ha’ruchot le’khol basar (אלהי הרוחת לכל־בשׂר), which can be translated "the God of the breath of all flesh" (Num. 27:16). This Name reveals that the LORD is the Source of your breath, the One who exhales to you nishmat ha’chayim (נשימת החיים), the "breath of life" that enables you to live (Job 12:10). The sages use the analogy of a glassblower who creates a glass vessel. Just as the glassblower blows into a tube to form a vessel from molten glass, so the "breath" (i.e., neshamah: נְשָׁמָה) that comes from the LORD functions as spirit (i.e., ruach: רוּחַ) that forms and fills the human soul (i.e., nefesh: נֶפֶשׁ). Note especially that the Name YHVH (יהוה), the LORD, first appears in this connection (Gen. 2:7), a designation that also means "God is Present" (Exod. 3:14) and "God is Mercy" (Exod. 34:6-7). Note also that each letter of the Name YHVH represents a vowel sound (i.e., breath), suggesting that God's Spirit is as close as your very next breath. Like the wind that cannot be seen, so is the spirit the essential part of your identity. Truly in God we “live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Shabbat Shalom, chaverim! [Hebrew for Christians]

7.10.20 • Facebook

The moral law of God is a perfect mirror, revealing the truth about our inward condition. The reality of our sin leads to brokenness and the confession of our need for God’s power to change our hearts. But we can only get to that place by means of the cross: We first die to all hope in ourselves and our religious aspirations, and then God does the miracle. The cross demonstrates that any attempt of the flesh to please God (i.e., "religion") is useless and needs to be laid to rest. True obedience, then, means surrendering to the LORD who heals your heart (forgives your sin) and sets you free to know Him. This is the "end of the law," after all - to walk as God's free child who pleases Him out of a relationship of love, trust, and blessing. We can obey God, in other words, only if we first surrender our hearts to his love. [Hebrew for Christians]

7.10.20 • Facebook

The Scriptures declare: "Blessed is the man who ... delights in the Torah of the LORD (בְּתוֹרַת יְהוָה); all that he does shall prosper" (Psalm 1:1-3). And while it is true that we are no longer 'under' the terms of the covenant given at Sinai (Rom. 3:23), we still delight 'in' the Torah and meditate on its precepts day and night (Psalm 1:2; 19:8; 119:15, 47, 97; Neh. 8:12, etc.). After all, Torah “written upon the heart” is a mark of the New Covenant believer (Jer. 31:31-33). As it is written in Proverbs: "If you seek it [i.e., the wisdom revealed in the Torah] like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures, then you will understand the fear of the LORD and find the knowledge of God” (Prov. 2:4-5).

Where it is written, “all Scripture is breathed out by God (θεόπνευστος) and is profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work" (2 Tim 3:16-17), it is evident that the Scriptures referred to here are the Jewish Scriptures (i.e., the Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings), since they are the foundation, the context, and the overarching matrix for the later New Covenant revelation. These were the Scriptures Yeshua used to contextualize and explain his ministry to his followers: “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself” (Luke 24:27; John 1:45). In other words, the Torah has both a logical, a linguistic, and a theological priority regarding our understanding of the New Testament, and the failure to read in context invariably leads to faulty interpretations and doctrinal errors of various kinds. “To the Jew first, and [then] to the Greek” (Rom. 1:16) is a principle not only of how the gospel message would transcend ethnic Israel to be offered to all the nations, but also about how we should approach the subject of Biblical “hermeneutics.” God “breathed out” his revelation in order, and the message itself must be understood in light of that order (John 4:22). [Hebrew for Christians]

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July 10, 2020

Exceeding Greatness

“And what is the exceeding greatness of his power to us-ward who believe, according to the working of his mighty power.” (Ephesians 1:19)

There are a number of scriptural superlatives that convey something of the tremendous magnitude of our great salvation. These are marked by the adjective “exceeding,” which in the Greek implies essentially boundless, surpassing dimensions of the attributes it describes.

First of all, as our text implies, His power available to us is one of exceeding greatness. Its magnitude is measured by the power required to bring Christ back from death and Hades.

Consider also the measure of His grace, “that in the ages to come he might shew the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2:7). His grace has saved us when we were dead in sins, but this is only a small token. In the ages to come, we will experience His grace as one of exceeding riches.

Then there is the wonderful peace of God. “The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7). In this verse, the word “passeth” is the same word. Paul is saying that God’s peace is one exceeding understanding.

Finally, consider His glory. “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory” (2 Corinthians 4:17). The future eternal glory is one of exceeding weight, or abundance.

Thus, the infinite blessings and resources of our salvation in Christ are described as providing the power of surpassing greatness, the grace of surpassing richness, the peace which surpasses all understanding, and the eternal glory of surpassing abundance! All of this is freely available “to us-ward who believe.” HMM

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is chapter 13 in the book of Deuteronomy that directs the people in the old covenant given through Moses to hold people to the death penalty for worshiping other gods other than God our Creator. and the truth is that all sin is deserving of the death penalty according to the law, which brings out the True beauty of the new covenant when grace was revealed when the Son took upon the death penalty in our place to ransom us from our sins.

[Deuteronomy 13]

Moses: Suppose someone who claims to be a prophet, or to have inspired dreams, stands up and tells all of you that some unusual, significant sign or wonder is going to happen, and also says, “I’m here to let you know about some other gods you should be worshiping.” What if the thing that person has predicted actually happens? Don’t listen to what that prophet or dreamer says! The Eternal your God is testing you to see whether you really do love Him completely, with your whole heart and soul. Remain loyal to Him! Fear Him and obey His commands. Listen to His voice. Worship Him alone. Be fervently devoted to Him. 5 But as for that prophet or dreamer, put him to death! He’s tried to turn you away from the Eternal your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt and liberated you from slavery. He’s tried to entice you off the path God commanded you to follow. Expel the evil from your community.

What if someone close to you whispers secretly, “Let’s go worship other gods”? It doesn’t matter if it’s your brother or half-brother, your own son or daughter, your beloved wife or closest friend. Whether they’re gods of the people who live around you or gods of people who live far away—the gods of anyone on the face of the earth! You’ve never worshiped any of these gods before, and neither did your ancestors, because you’re in a covenant relationship with the Eternal. So don’t listen to this person. Don’t agree to go worship other gods with him or her. Anyone who entices you like this must be executed! Don’t feel sorry for him, or have mercy on him, or try to hide what he’s done. Stone him to death because he tried to entice you away from the Eternal, your True God who brought you out of the land of Egypt and rescued you from slavery. As the witness to what he said, and as the person he tried to corrupt, you must throw the first deadly stone, and then everyone else will join in. All the rest of the Israelites will hear about this and be afraid, and none of them will dare to do such an evil thing again in your land.

Moses: You may hear a report in one of the cities the Eternal your God is giving you to live in: “Some wicked people have abandoned our faith, and they’ve convinced everyone else in their own city to worship other gods we’ve never had anything to do with!” If you ever hear a report like this, conduct a careful, thorough investigation. If you establish conclusively that the report is true, that such a horrible thing has been done within your nation, then bring your swords and execute everyone who lives in that city! Destroy it completely with everything in it—even the livestock. Pile all the city’s goods in the middle of the public square, and then burn down the whole city and everything in it. This will be a burnt offering showing your complete loyalty to the Eternal your God. That city must never be rebuilt; let it remain a ruin forever. Don’t take any of the goods for yourself because they have been banned; destroy everything. Then the Eternal will stop being so furiously angry. He’ll show you mercy and compassion; and you’ll have many descendants, just as He promised your ancestors, if you’ll listen to the voice of the Eternal, your True God, obey all the commands I’m giving you today, and do what He decides is right.

The Book of Deuteronomy, Chapter 13 (The Voice)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, july 11 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

[miragerules]

Here is a really well written article about both Daenerys good and bad qualities.  The authors of the article make a lot of great points about Daenerys as well as Jon.

Warning: Spoilers ahead for "Game of Thrones."

Daenerys Targaryen is, in many ways, one of the most appealing characters in HBO's "Game of Thrones." She's powerful and determined, and she inspires people to follow her again and again.

Now she's close to forming an alliance with Jon Snow, the other main hero of our tale. Together, they'll be a dragon-riding, direwolf-wielding duo who will slaughter the White Walkers and save Westeros. They could both perhaps be "The Prince That Was Promised," Azor Ahai reborn.

But would a writer like George R.R. Martin really let his series end so simply?

Some fans don't think so and point to a few troubling characteristics of Daenerys both on the show and in the books that could lead to her eventual turn toward a darker path.

Let's explore just why some people think Daenerys could become a villain.

Daenerys is a vengeance-seeker.

Throughout the series, Daenerys is convinced of her own moral compass. If she ever witnesses something she views as wrong — such as rape or slavery — she immediately attempts to put a stop to it and punish the wrongdoer.

This a noble trait, but seeing the world in black and white and believing she is the sole bringer of justice is one of Daenerys' downfalls.

We saw this early in the series when she saved a healer and maegi named Mirri Maz Duur, one of the Lhazareen women raped by the Dothraki, who had conquered their village. To Daenerys, saving Duur was an honorable thing to do, and she enlisted Duur to help heal Khal Drogo after he was injured.

Instead, Duur made Drogo's condition worse and killed Daenerys' son, Rhaego, when he was still in the womb using blood magic.

Daenerys doesn't understand why the woman turned on her when Daenerys had saved her. But Duur viewed it quite differently:

"Saved me? Three of those riders had already raped me before you saved me, girl. I saw my god's house burn, there where I had healed men and women beyond counting. In the streets I saw piles of heads: the head of the baker who makes my bread, the head a young boy that I had cured of fever just three moons past. So tell me again: Exactly what it was that you saved?"

Duur herself was seeking vengeance for the death of her people. In retaliation, Daenerys murdered Duur in Khal Drogo's funeral pyre and emerged with her three dragons.

Was the scene epic? Of course. But this wouldn't be the last time Daenerys murdered or harmed people who disagreed with her perception of what is right and wrong.

Another moment of Daenerys' vengeance gone awry is when the Great Masters crucify 163 slave children as mile markers on her way to Meereen as a way to intimidate her. When she sacks the city, Daenerys crucifies 163 Great Masters as a punishment.

In "A Storm of Swords," however, Daenerys begins to regret her actions, despite her initial sense of righteousness:

"She had them nailed to wooden posts around the plaza, each man pointing at the next. The anger was fierce and hot inside her when she gave the command; it made her feel like an avenging dragon. But later, when she passed the men dying on the posts, when she heard their moans and smelled their bowels and blood …

"It was just. It was. I did it for the children."

Daenerys, though she suppresses the thought, realizes some of the masters may not have been guilty of the death of these children. She tries to convince herself that she was right to take their lives.

And in season six, episode five, show watchers saw Daenerys murder the powerful khals in their straw hut. These weren't nice men — they spent a significant chunk of time insulting Daenerys and talking about how they intended to rape and kill her — but watching her burn them alive was still an unnerving moment for some viewers, especially because it looked like she took pleasure in watching them die.

Daenerys' rationalizations for all these events should give her fans pause. Murdering evil people may seem like the right thing to do, but what would happen if Daenerys' moral compass were ever skewed?

It wouldn't be the first time she burned people who disagreed with her, after all.

Dragons as nuclear weapons.

In "A Dance With Dragons," Daenerys compares her dragons to monsters:

"Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I."

This wild and changeable nature of dragons is directly tied to Daenerys. When she equates herself to a dragon, she means it: She can be just as destructive and changeable as her dragon children.

What's more, Martin has talked about ties between the dragons and nuclear weapons. Both are powerful to have but can easily lead to utter destruction.

"Dragons are the nuclear deterrent, and only Dany has them, which in some ways makes her the most powerful person in the world," Martin told Vulture in a 2014 interview. "But is that sufficient? These are the kind of issues I'm trying to explore. The United States right now has the ability to destroy the world with our nuclear arsenal, but that doesn't mean we can achieve specific geopolitical goals. Power is more subtle than that. You can have the power to destroy, but it doesn't give you the power to reform, or improve, or build."

We saw the full force of this when Daenerys attacked the Lannister army with Drogon. Director Matt Shakman chose to show the battle from Jaime and Bronn's perspective to bring the horrors of dragonfire into sharp relief.

"I wanted to tell the story of what it was like ... when war changes forever and a truly horrific weapon like napalm or an atom bomb is suddenly unleashed and what that does to the men on the ground," Shakman told Insider.

Daenerys is sitting with her finger on a red button that could take out all of Westeros. She may not want to destroy the kingdom, especially before she ever has the chance to rule there. But by virtue of wanting to conquer Westeros, she could be bringing more death and destruction into a country still ravaged by war.

There's a chance Daenerys could be viewed as a villain instead of the returning hero of House Targaryen.

Daenerys and the Mad King.

While Daenerys has remained fairly sane so far, the Targaryen dynasty has a history of mental illness, mainly because of intermarriage. Daenerys' father, King Aerys II, was called the Mad King because he became paranoid and started killing people and hiding wildfire around King's Landing.

Daenerys starts to worry about this possible "taint" in her blood, as do many other characters throughout the series. But it's not so much that Daenerys could go crazy — though that's certainly a possibility — as that she could follow in her father's footsteps by punishing those who disagree with her or whom she views as her enemies.

Tyrion warned her against this tactic at the end of season six, and the two reached a compromise where Daenerys instead burned just one of the slaver's ships and had Grey Worm execute two of the three slave masters.

Once she arrived in Westeros, Tyrion once again counseled Daenerys against immediately using the dragons to burn King's Landing or other cities, telling her she didn't want to be the "queen of the ashes."

But their alternate plans failed because of Tyrion's miscalculations of what Jaime and Cersei would do, and Daenerys got tired of sitting around and doing nothing. She rode Drogon into battle against the Lannister army and laid waste to their soldiers and loot. She didn't choose a select few leaders to punish — she went for everything in sight.

Granted, it was better than her flying to the Red Keep and attacking civilians, but it was still hard to 100% root for her in this moment.

Daenerys also had a tense conversation with Varys earlier in the seventh season. She made him promise to be straightforward with her about her potential failings as a leader, but she then vowed to burn him alive if he ever betrayed her.

If Daenerys goes too far in the "fire and blood" direction, she could end up repeating her father's mistakes — something that would end up costing her the throne, just like it ended up costing King Aerys both his kingdom and his life.

Jon Snow is the true hero.

A penchant for vengeance, a crazy father, and dragons do not together make Daenerys a villain. But let's compare Daenerys with another heroic character in the "Song of Ice and Fire" series: Jon Snow.

In the books and show, Jon is similar to Ned Stark. He's honorable, justice-minded, and takes no pleasure in killing. When he's forced to take a life, Jon makes sure he's the one to swing the sword, and he views it as a burden, not a pleasure.

For example, when he punished the brothers of the Night's Watch who stabbed him in season six, Jon took no joy in it. He listened to every man's last words before cutting the rope and watching them die. He did not look pleased by their deaths — unlike Daenerys, who smiled right before she watched the khals burn.

Jon also never asks for the responsibility heaped on his shoulders time and time again. Jon is forced to become the lord commander after Samwell Tarly submitted his name. He doesn't want to be the one to take care of the Wildlings, but he feels morally obligated to help them and therefore becomes their savior. He doesn't want to be the one to punish his brothers, even though they betrayed and murdered him, and yet he knows the responsibility falls to him.

And now, he's king in the north after rallying the Northern houses around him. But he didn't even want to do that — not until Sansa Stark convinced him it was the right thing to do.

Jon follows the traditional "reluctant hero" journey in many ways. He questions himself, he sometimes falls, and he picks himself back up.

It's not unlike what Dumbledore tells Harry in the "Harry Potter" film series: "It is a curious thing, Harry, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well."

Jon never asks to be a leader; he's just the best man for the job. It's something Daenerys — with her Targaryen dynasty and ambitions — would never understand. When Jon and Daenerys meet for the first time, Daenerys tells him that all people enjoy what they're good at.

"I don't," Jon said.

He was likely referring to leading and killing, the two things he's been forced into since leaving Winterfell as a young man. Jon never sought out a royal title, but he's good at owning it. That factor might make him the one person best suited for the job.

What does this mean for the series?

There's also substantial evidence throughout the series that Daenerys will be a good ruler. She's intelligent, she tries to listen to her advisers, and she genuinely wants the people she rules to be happy. People like Missandei and Grey Worm follow Daenerys because they believe in her ability to change lives for the better.

And even with her possible flaws, Daenerys would ultimately be a much better ruler than Cersei or Joffrey Lannister, or even King Robert.

Still, there could be a complicated friction as Daenerys tries to claim the Iron Throne. Instead of being the hero she assumes she will be, Daenerys is likely to face opposition and bring destruction and death to the kingdom.

On the other hand, she possesses weapons that, while volatile, could be the key to defeating the White Walkers (at least on the show). We know that Valyrian steel and dragonglass — two things believed to be made with dragon fire — can kill the White Walkers, so it stands to reason that actua fire from actual dragons would do the trick, too.

So while she may not be greeted in Westeros as a hero, she and her dragons could fast become their only hope. Plus, a Jon and Daenerys romance might be brewing — even though their shared bloodline grosses some fans out. Perhaps his "ice" will temper her "fire," if you catch our drift.

In the end, only Martin knows what will happen, but Daenerys fans should buckle up. It could be a bumpy ride on her way to the Iron Throne.

[aion-rsa]

Game of Thrones: The Early Mad Queen Moment That Defined Daenerys Targaryen’s Fate

http://bit.ly/2LLdSzv

We look back to Game of Thrones Season 5 to find a reminder of what a stressed and mourning Daenerys Targaryen always looked like.

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This article contains Game of Thrones spoilers for the whole series, including season 8, episode 5: “The Bells.”

Over the last four days, a division among Game of Thrones fans has grown as deep as the scorched earth left by dragonfire. Daenerys Targaryen, one of the ostensible heroes of the series and definite protagonists, had finally gotten everything she always dreamed of: her birthright returned to her. Years of fighting, of killing, and of suffering finally brought her to the home she’d never known. Off in the distance, the palace where her father was stabbed in the back by his Kingsguard was now hers, along with the city at her feet—a city that so resisted her that she lost another of her beloved children, Rhaegal, and her best friend Missandei.

… It wasn’t enough. Losing complete perspective of who she is supposed to be or wants to be, she embraces who she apparently always was. “A dragon,” as the most perceptive character on the series, Olenna Tyrell, once surmised. Laying waste with a genocidal fire that consumed the innocent and guilty alike, Daenerys’ rampage left thousands, mayhaps tens of thousands, dead and fans divided over whether the Daenerys many of them came to love was ever even capable of that—never mind if she could’ve done it in that moment. As I detailed in my review, I am of mixed feelings about it. I do not think season 8 properly built to a naturalistic tipping point for Dany where the penny drops and the dragon awakens, but beyond the thematic brilliance of this ending (which George R.R. Martin is likely to have revealed to showrunners David Benioff and D.B. Weiss as his intended endpoint), it is easy to forget that the Daenerys of the early seasons could have done this. In fact, we have seen this side of the Mother of Dragons on a micro-scale from years before the show romanticized her to the point where the heel turn felt inorganic.

While in the last few days there have been a lot of articles listing all the foreshadowings of Daenerys’ descent, including those that would appear to retcon snow as ash, it is likely better to focus on the moment when Dany’s was a hair’s breadth away from being the dragon (and still might in the books). Many of House Targaryen’s fiercest advocates will point to the fact that she was also the Breaker of Chains in her early seasons, liberating one oppressed people from bondage at a time. But those moments of benevolence recall when everything was coming up roses for the Khaleesi. After taking Astapor—in Fire and Blood—and destroying most of a slaver’s city, she had an army of freed Unsullied who willingly followed her to the ends of the world, fighting and dying for her. Magnanimity was easy for her when each city she conquered had vast populaces who welcomed her as a “Mhysa,” a mother to millions after losing her one and only human child. Yet when the chips are down, and the stresses of ruling instead of conquering crept across Daenerys’ troubled mind, a definite pattern became visible.

The first time she felt overwhelming grief, Daenerys Targaryen had almost nothing to command. Not even a Mother of Dragons, the loss of Khal Drogo and all the power that is supposed to come with being a Khaleesi evaporated over a terrible night. What remained to Dany was the loyalty of some of Drogo’s bloodriders, the infatuated support of an exiled Bear Knight, an enslaved witch who she could blame for her most immediate problems, and three fossilized dragon eggs. The only person she could take her grief out on was Mirri Maz Duur, a witch who did wrong her (though with justifiable reasons given how Khal Drogo’s people treated her, and the knowledge that their baby would burn more cities to ash). Thus while burning Mirri Maz Duur alive, Dany made a decision that seemed baffling and even insane to Jorah and her few remaining followers: she walked into an open funeral pyre where three stone eggs rested with her husband… and she came out with all the wonder of a Biblical fable.

But the real moment that best illustrates how Dany handles pressure came during the full length of season 5. The final season directly based on George R.R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire,” it is the year where the Breaker of Chains discovers it is much harder to rule a people than conquer them. Even her ideas of justice proved rash and unstable. The most vindictive slave masters of Meereen crucified 163 children on her path to the pyramid city—one for each mile on the Dragon Queen’s journey to the cities walls. Her response was to indiscriminately crucify 163 of Meereen’s aristocrats and noblemen, not caring about their complicity or lack thereof in the atrocity she saw. She couldn’t conceive of any being innocent.

Yet according to Hizdahr zo Loraq, more than a few were, including Hizdahr’s father. A young nobleman made the head of his house, he only gained that power after Dany had Papa Loraq nailed to a cross. But Hizdahr insisted with understandable anger that his father actually was an opponent of the local slave trade, and something of a Meereenese abolitionist. Now, admittedly, Daenerys has every right to take Hizdahr’s claim with a grain of salt since a political dissident may say anything to undermine a new occupying ruler. However, the fact remains Daenerys did nothing before or after to ascertain the guilt or innocence of the men she crucified. And that was when she perceived herself as a calm and loving Mhysa. It is that sense of empathy that even forces her to reluctantly entomb two of her dragons, Rhaegal and Viserion, for this misdeeds of Drogon.

After her favorite child burned an innocent shepherd’s son alive for a midday snack, Dany walls off the literal part of herself that is dragon. She commits an act of self-sacrifice for the well-being of Meereen’s residents. It is only then that the pressures and loneliness begin. Around the same time as Rhaegal and Viserion’s imprisonment, she also is forced to banish her once most trusted advisor and friend, Jorah Mormont, the only remaining member of the inner-circle who had been with her since the beginning. The loss of Jorah weighed on the Dragon Queen as much as the loss of her dragons—both wounds she inflicted on herself because she could not trust them and thus the source of her power and strength.

read more: What Did Ser Davos Smuggle for Tyrion?

Which then brings us to season 8’s most prescient reverberation from the past. Daenerys gave much of herself away for Meereen and expected the city to love her in return like the Unsullied do. Instead a city that welcomed her with open arms grew an insurgent and virulent resistance, the Sons of the Harpy, who attacked her men in the streets. They then killed her other most wise advisor and injured the captain of her forces. Ser Barristan Selmy was Daenerys’ last connection with her Westerosi heritage after Viserys’ death and Jorah’s banishment, and only moments after teasing a kernel of his knowledge about the father and brother she never knew, Selmy was cut down in the streets like a dog.

With Selmy slaughtered and Grey Worm on death’s door, possibly never to recover, Daenerys’ rage was piqued by grief for the first time since Khal Drogo’s death. This is the moment that most foreshadowed who Dany is when someone seriously damages her calm. And her reaction is as illuminating as the fires that still burn King’s Landing.

In the fifth episode of Game of Thrones Season 5, Dany walks away from Barristan’s still warm corpse and Missandei’s late night vigil by Grey Worm’s sick bed to summon the heads of all the remaining “Great Houses of Meereen.” Yes, that includes Hizdahr zo Loraq, the son of a possible abolitionist. With a little more than a half-dozen aristocrats gathered beneath the Great Pyramid of Meereen, Daenerys introduces these rich men to her two children still ruefully in chains.

Video of Game of Thrones (S05E05) - Daenerys feeds her Dragons with nobles of Meereen

“They will eat you if I tell them to. They may eat you even if I don’t. Some say I should give up on them, but a good mother never gives up on her children. She disciplines them if she must, but she does not give up on them. Who is innocent? Maybe some of you are, maybe none of you are. Maybe I should let the dragons decide.”

As Daenerys speaks these words, she is savoring the terror of these great men before her children, pushing the one praying the loudest before Rhaegal, pausing only long enough to savor Rhaegal barbecuing him to a cinder. Only after Rhaegal and Viserion begin to chow down on his remains does she add, “Who is innocent? Maybe some of you are, maybe none of you are.” She’ll let her dragons decide.

This is who Dany is when things are not going her way and she has literal power to burn. As Daenerys points out, any of them could be guiltily in league with the Sons of the Harpy, or mayhaps they all could be innocent. The truth is she doesn’t care, because they’re all complicit in her eyes and all worthy of being food for the Dragon. Yet there is an obvious method in this cruelty too. By randomly feeding a man who might be innocent to her dragons, she instills an unimaginable dread in the survivors. If they do hate her—and likely all the nobles in Meereen do—she hopes they will not cross her after this grisly sight. “Let it be fear then.”

And sure enough, it is only a week later she returns to that same chamber to force Hizdahr zo Loraq to marry her at dragon’s point, assuming a political marriage along with fear will keep Meereen in line and scare off the Sons of the Harpy. It does not work, of course, and the Sons of the Harpy attempt another political assassination on her own royal head, murdering Hizdahr in the process, suggesting he was not part of the conspiracy and his family were actually anti-slavery. It makes no matter now, he and his father are dead, and Daenerys’ rule over Meereen appears to be in complete tatters when season 5 ends.

read more: Game of Thrones Season 8 - Meaning of the White Horse Explained

It should be noted that this is also where George R.R. Martin’s guidepost source material also ends. And while the details are different—Dany never actually feeds any noblemen to her dragons in the books and Hizdahr and Selmy are alive—her exasperation with Meereen and the Sons of the Harpy seems to be even in a darker place. When A Dance with Dragons concludes, and Dany has barely evaded her assassination due to Drogon’s intervention, she has a moment to reflect on the Great Grass Sea, and in the book concludes about her recent experiences, “You are the blood of the dragon… Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words. ‘Fire and Blood,’ Daenerys told the swaying grass.”

This is the moment where she seems to accept all of her choices up to that point have been wrong and counterintuitive to “being the dragon.” Chaining up Rhaegal and Viserion to protect innocents was a mistake; showing leniency to Meereen after the Sons of the Harpy’s attacks was a mistake. “Fire and Blood” suggested to many readers that Daenerys might burn Meereen down in The Winds of Winter. And she still might, as we do not know how Martin ends his Meereenese knot, but all book readers were a bit skeptical when Tyrion, in Season 6 of Game of Thrones, convinces Daenerys not to “return their cities to the dirt” and instead rather incredulously breaks their siege with minimal death. I imagine her answer of breaking the other Slave Cities’ siege of Meereen will be much more bloodthirsty in the books, including for the residents of the city.

Be that as it may, the show still underscored what Dany thinking “dragons do not plant” looks like in season 5. She feeds a potentially innocent man to her dragons while contemplating doing the same to others. And in the process, she hopes to instill enough fear in them that the people of Meereen will be obedient. When she says, “A good mother never gives up on her children. She disciplines them if she must, but she does not give up on them,” she isn’t just referring to her dragons. As she views herself as Mhysa to all the cities she conquers, she is implicitly referring to these noblemen as her children. And like naughty boys, she is forcing them to take their medicine.

Which brings us back to her perched on the walls of King’s Landing hearing the bells of surrender. She expected to be greeted as a liberator in her homeland, even if she scoffed at Varys’ kind words in season 7. Instead they despise her. Jon Snow got all the credit in the North for the victory over the White Walkers, even though it was her Dothraki that bore the biggest casualties and it was her dragon that Jon was riding. Meanwhile King’s Landing’s residents cower in fear, hoping that her one remaining child will be killed just like how their current queen had Rhaegal murdered. And also like how Cersei slaughtered Missandei.

Just as when Daenerys lost Selmy Barristan and potentially Grey Worm—and she had no Jorah shoulder to cry on—Daenerys has lost her best friend in Missandei and two-thirds of her children for this capital. Jorah has also left her again, this time never to return, and unlike in Meereen her claim is already being questioned due to Jon Snow’s parentage. In Meereen she was greeted as “Mhysa,” but then her “children” still disobeyed her and tried to kill her. In King’s Landing she is welcomed as an aggressive tyrant.

“Who is innocent? Maybe some of you are, maybe none of you are. Maybe I should let the dragons decide.” In “The Bells,” she returned to that mindset but with no desire for one last chance to “plant,” as with her arranged marriage to Hizdahr zo Loraq. She now knows that way won’t work and the only eligible bachelor that could keep the peace, Jon Snow, has rejected her. So she indulges in letting “the dragons decide” who is guilty and innocent, and rains dragonfire down on both. All will be purged. It is a macro-scale of what she did to that one nobleman in the dark of season 5, but now it’s thousands in the light of day in season 8. Let King’s Landing be a lesson to all who deny my right to rule.

read more: The Real History of Daenerys Targaryen

All of this is not to say that I think the execution was perfect or even satisfactory. Seasons 7 and 8, in retrospect, clearly needed to show more of the Daenerys we saw in season 5. There was the execution of Randyll and Dickon Tarly, but that was presented in a way that again looked too close to veering on reasonable, even if it disregarded a modern understanding of the Geneva Convention. They were officers who opposed her rule and she made an example out of them to completely destroy the resistance of their army, plus audiences were predisposed to hate Randyll Tarly for his treatment of Sam and treachery toward the Tyrells. We needed to see Daenerys disregard guilt and innocence like she did in Meereen before she did it on a genocidal scale. Perhaps having her show no quarter to the Lannister forces altogether, or destroying large swaths of Meereen—still a city full of slavers, thus dividing audience loyalties between right and wrong—would have made it clearer in the later seasons just who Dany is. Instead the showrunners chose to focus solely on her refusing to be “Queen of the Ashes” and riding to Jon Snow’s rescue multiple times with an open heart.

A focus on the romantic and heroic side of Daenerys, with nary a hint of the conqueror from the early seasons turned paranoid in season 5, made her sudden heel turn in less than two full episodes rushed and unconvincing. Nevertheless, this has always been part of Daenerys. We’ve seen this from her before. It’s a fitting end to her character, even if the later seasons failed to remind you until it was too late.

David Crow is the Film Section Editor at Den of Geek. He’s also a member of the Online Film Critics Society. Read more of his work here. You can follow him on Twitter @DCrowsNest.

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Feature

Books

David Crow

May 15, 2019

Game of Thrones

Game of Thrones Season 8

Emilia Clarke

George R.R. Martin

HBO

from Books http://bit.ly/2JFXe1u

[pamphletstoinspire]

THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER by Fr. Francis Xavier Weninger, 1876

“You shall lament and weep, but the world shall rejoice.”– John 16.

When Lucifer, with his followers, rebelled against his Maker, the kingdom of the angels became divided into two parts the good angels, or those who had remained faithful, forming one; the fallen angels, or those who had rebelled, the other. So, too, from the time of our first parents, the human race has in like manner been divided into two classes the faithful, who were called the children of God; and the followers of Cain, called the children of men. These two classes have ever been directly opposed to each other. The children of men seek the goods of this world; the children of God, those of the world to come. The former work for what is temporal, the latter for that which is eternal. The children of this world, on the one hand, following their own will, gratify every desire; while, on the other, the children of God, wishing in all things to accomplish the designs of God, submit cheerfully to every trial, and of their own accord crucify their flesh and its concupiscences.

And if the life of the good Christian differs so much from that of the bad, what, think you, must the difference be in the future that awaits them? The sadness of the children of God will soon be changed into eternal joy; but the joy of the children of the world into sorrow and weeping.

It is to this contrast, my brethren, that I wish to draw your attention today. Mary, obtain for us the grace so to grieve with thee and thy divine Son upon earth as to rejoice with you forever in heaven. I speak in the most holy name of Jesus, to the greater glory of God!

“You shall lament and weep, but the world shall rejoice.” It was for the encouragement of His Apostles that Christ uttered this prophecy. He foresaw the sufferings they would undergo for His name, and it was His wish that trials should not come unexpected, but that they should be well prepared for them. He warned them of tribulations and persecutions, and in their persons He spoke to all Christians who, like them, would have to take up their cross daily and follow their crucified Master.

Yet He wished them to understand that it would be only for a little while, and He said: “A little while, and you shall not see Me; and again a little while, and you shall see Me. I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice; and your joy no man shall take from you.”

“A little while, and you shall see Me.” A little while! “What does it mean?” asked the Apostles.

Be courageous and confident, He seems to say to them; the time of trial will soon pass away, and then I shall be your reward for an eternity. “You shall lament and weep, but the wicked shall rejoice;” but do not, on this account, despond, for the triumph of the wicked shall be short-lived, and the day will presently dawn that will secure for you the reward of all your labors. Truly, two small words, yet how full of instruction and of consolation!

“You shall lament,” said Christ to His Apostles; and, through them, to us also, who glory in being Christians, and who are desirous of imitating their virtues. And ever since the fall of Adam, has not this world been a land of exile to the children of God? To what persecutions have they not been subjected by the children of this world and the powers of darkness? How sad has been their lot on earth, and in what sorrow have they not passed their days!

Were! we to look no further than the present life, our grief, I grant it, would be inconsolable; but as Christians, followers of Christ, holding from on high the precious gift of faith, we must view the cross in the supernatural light of that faith, which teaches us that these sorrows will soon pass away, and a happy eternity succeed them. Now, what is it that causes us most sorrow? Let us examine it closely, and we shall see clearly that all we suffer is permitted by God for His own greater glory, and our future good.

In the first place, it may be that we are poor, or have become so suddenly by what seems to us a caprice of fortune. Here is one who was once wealthy; today he finds it difficult to earn the bread necessary for the support of himself and family. You are sad and oppressed with anxiety, because you see those near and dear to you obliged to suffer from want, or at least deprived of that contentment they once enjoyed. Or again, your honor may have been assailed. You were once courted and esteemed, respected by all. But a day came when calumny stripped you of your good name, to be prized above all riches; and from that time those who, perhaps, had once greeted you from afar, now shunned your very approach. Or you are in grief, it may be, for the loss of your health; formerly, you were strong and active, but you have been stricken down with paralysis, or your lungs are hopelessly gone. Finally, death may have visited a happy home, and taken a beloved wife, a loving and hopeful son or daughter, and you are now alone. Your friends, perhaps your family, have abandoned you, and there is no one to speak a word of consolation to you in your sorrow. And so for some one of these reasons you weep, and feel life a burden.

But how soon is not this sorrow changed into joy when, enlightened by faith, we consider the words of Christ: “A little while, and you shall see Me!”

Why mourn the loss of temporal goods? A Christian should prize what is eternal. What is the world and all its riches compared with heaven and God? And this is the promise made to the poor in spirit, if during this short life they support, for the love of God, whatever affliction it may please Him to send them. Even were the time of life not so short, but like that of Methusala, prolonged to a thousand years, yet, in comparison with eternity, such a life would not deserve to be called a moment.

You have been robbed by calumny of your honor, and you are now an object of contempt and ridicule. But what is honor? Whatever it may be in itself, if by retaining it we should lose heaven, how unworthy of our aspirations would it not become! Are we to prefer the honor bestowed on us by men to that which God has in store for us? Who, my brethren, are they that honor us, and what do they honor in us? They are themselves miserable; sinners, and, perhaps, more worthy of being despised than we are. But who is to say that we are worthy of honor? One thing is certain, if our faults were known to men as they are to God, far from any one honoring us, on the contrary all would despise us.

But we must rise; above the esteem or contempt of men; what they may say or think of us will one day avail us little, if we be not at the same time pleasing in the eyes of God. Moreover, this honor bestowed by man vanishes, while that which will accrue to us by our humility and faithfulness in the service of God will soon develop itself, notwithstanding the contempt of men, into the infinite glory of the blessed, and will remain with us forever.

You have lost your health, and your days are spent in sorrow on that account; but do not lose courage. Man is soon freed from all suffering; a little patience in adversity will sweeten the bitterness of your cup of sorrow, shorten your purgatory in the next life, and furnish countless opportunities of adding new jewels to that crown of glory which you will one day receive. Soon in a little while you shall receive a glorified body. The sufferings of a mortal body must necessarily be of short duration, the joy of a body glorified is never-ending.

And what is death that it should afflict you so much? In reality you never die, for your soul is immortal. Perhaps it is the separation from others which grieves you? Bear it with patience and resignation; soon you will be united in heaven to Christ, and to His Blessed Mother, to the angels and saints, and to those from whom you were separated here below.

Is it not true, then, my brethren, that we have very little reason to complain, whatever be the sufferings we endure? See how transitory they all are; whereas, the cheerful resignation with which we see the will of God perfectly carried out in our regard, will merit for us the glory of a blissful eternity.

With these thoughts ever present to our minds, our life will never be without some consolation; and, even in this world, we shall begin to send up those hallelujahs and hymns of praise which we shall continue to sing for all eternity! Amen! __________

by Fr. Raphael Frassinetti, 1900

Gospel. John xvi. 16 - 22. At that time Jesus said to his disciples: A little while, and now you shall not see Me: and again a little while, and you shall see Me: because I go to the Father. Then some of his disciples said one to another: What is this that He saith to us: A little while, and you shall not see Me: and again a little while, and you shall see Me, and because I go to the Father? They said therefore: What is this that He saith, a little while? we know not what He speaketh. And Jesus knew that they had a mind to ask Him, and He said to them: Of this do you inquire among yourselves, because I said: A little while, and you shall not see Me: and again a little while, and you shall see Me? Amen, amen, I say to you, that you shall lament and weep, but the world shall rejoice: and you shall be made sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy. A woman, when she is in labor, hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but when she hath brought forth the child, she remembereth no more the anguish for joy that a man is born into the world. So also you now indeed have sorrow, but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice: and your joy no man shall take from you.

Our Lord was about to leave this world. The Apostles had received a terrible shock at His disgraceful death, and here was another cause of great grief. When Our Lord was crucified, they were scattered like a flock of frightened sheep, and when they came a little to their senses, they met in an upper room, where no one would look for them. What dreadful news is this He is telling them? “I am going to the Father, and you will see Me no longer.” The world rejoiced when Our Lord was crucified, and at His going away it felt no sorrow. This same thing happens also to the followers of Christ in our time; for a little while they are in great trouble and affliction, as is always the case with every good life in this world. Show me a good man who does not worry and fret over the duties he has to perform, in order to do them well and to the greater glory of God. Soon, however, this sorrow is turned into joy; not only after death, but even in this life, there is many a foretaste of heaven for the good. The wicked try to have a good time in this world; they laugh a great deal, and enjoy everything, but at the end of life this joy becomes a fearful regret. They know that hell is waiting for them. In this life, too, they have hours of unhappiness and despair. Day and night they sin and are happy; their joy may last a few days or a few years, but the day comes when they have to leave this world with all its attachments. You remember that rich man of the Gospel, who had accumulated a great deal of wealth, whose strong boxes were full of money, whose extensive fields yielded a large income; he could not get rid of all, in fact he thought of building storehouses on a larger scale. “My soul, you have many goods; no danger of want, the gold is there in the safe, and can be used at any moment.” What plans he made! He would travel from land to land, he would enjoy ocean voyages, he would get the best of everything, but in his heart he heard a voice whispering, “Thou fool, this night do they require thy soul of thee, and whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?” What startling information that must have been.

The idea often strikes me, though a little vulgar, that rich people are like fattened bulls which are the pride of the farmer; they are carefully tended and carefully fed for some time, but at the end is the slaughter-house. Certainly they are not to be envied. Neither, then, should good people who suffer envy the rich, who are in luck and are happy. It is hard to listen to this, because we have to be persuaded of a thing that human nature does not like. We have a horror of trouble and misfortune, and would put down as crazy any one who would tell us that misfortunes are a happiness. But the life of a sinner is not all sunshine; on the contrary what he thinks happiness is merely the ravings of a drunkard. It is true that there is a certain satisfaction in committing sin, but as soon as this is over, for it is only momentary, we feel a terrible disappointment, because it cannot be enjoyed longer. Yes, the happiness of the sinner is very short, it is frequently false and delusive. His smile hides a most saddened heart; at least it hides a conscience that is continually upbraiding the heart. He hears a voice that tells him heaven is not for men like him.

A certain criminal in Egypt was banished to an island for his crimes. Somehow he there began to realize his wickedness and a terrible fear overcame him; he used to think his throat would be cut in his sleep; then he would jump up, and, rushing out into the starry night, stand there looking at the brilliant heaven, and cry, “Yes, there is a God.” He would recall all his crimes, and at last in fury would exclaim, “Yes, I know that I shall have to be punished for them.” It is true, then, that the wicked do not have all their days bright and happy, and it is good that it should be so. Our Lord afflicts them purposely, strikes them hard while they are in the height of their enjoyment, so that they sometimes come to their senses, and are converted. When the prodigal son was in great distress, he thought of going home to his father's house. Affliction makes the wicked turn to God, and it is a blessed thing that these visitations are sent them for their eternal welfare. O, my good children! would that God might lay His hands heavily on many young people who have gone astray, in order that they might be reminded of their first instructions. It looks cruel to wish anybody trouble, but to pray to God that a sickness may prove to be a spiritual benefit to the sinner would not be bad, since it is sometimes the only way to correct evil habits.

Have pity on your souls, my dear youthful friends; be not of that unhappy number who repay God's goodness with black ingratitude. Remember that even were you rich, and gifted with the brightest intellect, if you are in sin you are the most miserable of human beings, you are servants of the devil. What will it profit you if you are rich in money, but poor in the grace and friendship of God? On the other hand, if you are in God's grace, even though you were a poor beggar, you would not deserve to be called unhappy, because the sufferings which God sends the just are disguised favors. St. Paul tells us this when he says, “I am filled with comfort, I exceedingly abound with joy in all our tribulations.”

My dear young people, if you are in sorrow repine not, but accept the trials with a holy resignation, remembering that they are sent you by a good Father, who sometimes chastises His beloved to make them more perfect.

The story of Tobias in the Old Testament will illustrate this point. This old man was very dear to God; he practised many acts of charity toward his fellow captives; he saved from his own table all that he could to give to the hungry; he deprived himself of sleep, that in the dead of night he might do what was against the law, that is, bury the dead Hebrews that were slain and left on the roadside. What happened to him? An accident made him blind, and he was reduced to extreme poverty, expressly by God's permission, as the Scripture tells us, because He loved him so much. We may not be able to embrace with joy the evils we meet with in this world, but at least let us suffer with resignation and thank God for them. Yes, let us thank Him for that poverty which we have to endure, because it detaches us from the comforts of this life and raises us to the contemplation and hope of better things. Yes, let us thank God for the infirmities with which He chastises our body, which looks for nothing but satisfaction. He chastises our body in order to make us hate the false pleasures of the senses.

Yes, let us thank Him that we are not great men, that we are unknown, that we may seek our glory in God alone and our duty in a hidden way, saying with Job, “As it hath pleased the Lord so is it done; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Lord, dost Thou wish me to be struck with sickness? be it so: Thy holy name be blessed. Shouldst Thou wish me to be persecuted with injuries and calumnies, blessed be Thy name in all these things. Thou, O God, dost permit the devil to tempt me with many and frequent temptations that give me much trouble; blessed be Thy name. Only give me the grace to be steadfast in virtue, and to resist them effectually. Lord, as long as I remain faithful to Thee, do with me what Thou wilt. If Thou dost want to put me into the light of Thy consolation, or if Thou dost place me in the school of sorrow; if I be in tribulation or in joy, I accept it all in the knowledge that it is Thy holy will; only preserve me from sin and its punishment, hell. If, my good friends, you are so disposed toward the providence of God you will accumulate many treasures of merit for heaven, and your crown will be a magnificent one.

From: www.pamphletstoinspire.com

[pxiao]

Fate/Arc-V Prologue

inspired by this post   

Master page

In my many, many and I mean many travels across the dimensions, I have learned many things like keeping some of your favorite candy bars with you at all times if your money isn’t legal in that dimension and you’re starving. Or the food just doesn’t agree with you but that’s a story I hope to forget eventually. 

Where was I .... right! But there is one thing that I learned above all else is that in the various dimensions, we are not alone. As you live your life, in another dimension there is another you also living their life. The differences between dimensions could be as small as finding a penny on a street or having a completely different life but make no mistake anything can happen and that’s why the Second Magic is so much fun. In this case I found something interesting in this dimension, something I have never seen before. So lets stop waiting huh? The Fun is just getting started!!! -  Zelretch or Kaleidoscope whatever you prefer. 

In an empty street bathed by the shadows of buildings reaching far into the sky, a young girl in ratty clothes wandered through the spaces between the buildings. The girl named Rin quickly ran into the gaps to the dirty dumpsters. Once she found the huge green but rotting boxes far larger than herself, she felt her heart race as saliva started to run from her mouth and her stomach started to growl. She ran to a metal box which was unlocked and after 30 minutes of effort which lead to a ripped right sleeve, did she finally get the huge cover to lift only to see there was nothing inside the dumpster. Rin felt her vision shake as she punched the dirty dumpster with her right hand in rage. Rin grinded her teeth to ignore the pain as she glared that the bruise on her right hand.

Rin knew that her life wasn’t easy in any way but even she couldn’t believe how rotten her luck was today. When she woke up, she found the stupid red bruise covering the back of her right hand and promptly ignored it. While it was an eyesore her hand was still usable, so she went to look for food like always. But sadly her fellow commons didn’t share her opinion and refused to let her scavenge for food in the dumpster she had always used, out of fear she had caught a disease. While she understood their fears and probably would have done the same if she was in their circumstances, she still wanted to beat their heads in. She swallowed her feelings, realizing that she would only be wasting her energy and more importantly time if she tried to argue. Deciding instead to look for any unlocked dumpsters for food before the garbage trucks came around. After five hours of searching every dumpster was either locked or filled with metal or glass, making the leftovers inedible. But since this dumpster was empty, it meant the trucks had come and gone and with them any chance of a meal.

As Rin wallowed in her anger, a man dressed in a black robe that covered even his face soon entered the very same gap as Rin. As he walked up to the dumpster, Rin heard the rustling of his robe and turned her head to face him.

She sighed and said, “If you’re looking for food, the trucks already came.”

“Is that so?” the figure said.

“Sadly yes, the sun is starting to set. Better look for shelter for tonight and look again tomorrow.” Rin said in a resigned tone as her stomach rambled.

As Rin and the figure started to walk past each other, the figure’s suddenly grabbed her right arm, startling her. Rin quickly calmed her nerves and screamed, “Let go of me, you pervert!!!”

The figure quickly throw her arm back at her and yelled, “who are you calling a pervert!”

Rin’s eyes widened in shock at the robed man’s unexpected action. While she had been grabbed many times either by other commons that tried to steal her food or because she had unknowingly entered their territory, very few cared about being insulted. She shook her head and rebutted, “You just grabbed my hand and I don’t have any food. What else would you want?”

“Trust me if I was a pervert, I would have gone for a girl that went through puberty first.” The robed man mocked in a sarcastic tone.

Rin just stared at the man and the quickly started walking away, decided that he wasn’t worth the effort.    

“Wait, wait, wait!” the man frantically started yelling as Rin covered her ears with her hands.

“I know about that mark on your arm!” he yelled.

“Good for you.” Rin replied.

“That mark could make you rich!!!!!” the robed man yelled even louder.

Rin’s eyes widened when she heard him as she stopped in place. Despite herself, she turned to face the man whose face was obscured by his robe which created the impression that he was headless.

“What do you mean I could be rich because of this mark?” She asked as she pointed the bruise to him.

“That mark on your hand are command seals and it’s the sign of the Holy Grail War!” he said excitedly

“Holy Grail War?” Rin asked confused.

“A great ritual where 7 mages gather and each summon a hero from the past as familiar. They then fight to the death and the last standing mage and their hero win a wish. Said wish could be anything power, fame and of course money.” The robed man said in a grandiose tone.

Rin quickly looked at the mark and sighed, “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

“What makes you say that?” He happily said.

“Your story makes no sense. Mages, heroes from the past and all for the cup that caught Jesus’ blood when he was crucified. And to top it off that gives me a wish. You’ve been reading too many books from the dumpster.” Rin said in a resigned tone.  

“It does sound insane I admit but look at your mark. Do you really think that could come naturally?” the robed man asked.

Rin’s eyes widened as she realized his point. Her bruise was crimson red, a color unlikely to appear naturally unless the person had taken some drugs and it was too neat. Her “bruise” was a made up of two lines with one line being made of two half circles of different sizes, the other being a simpler smaller half circle meeting the larger line, resembling wind with a large dot in the center of where the two lines met. No bruise could be that detailed. She squashed that thought and asked, “ok fine maybe this mark …..”

“Command Seals” the robed man corrected.

“Whatever the jargon is, even if it’s too neat, how do I know you’re not just crazy? I mean magic, what am I five?” Rin asked.

The robed man simply raised his arm, revealing a sickly pale hand. The robed man then snapped his fingers and in front of him blazing red fire appeared that spelled, “Do you believe me now punk?” Rin jumped backward in fear.

“I think I got my message across.” The robed man said in a smug tone.

“What are you?” Rin asked with a tinge of fear on her face.

“A mage.” He answered.

“In the City?” Rin asked incredulous.

“I like pizza. Sue me. Though you would only get this robe if you win.” He snarked.

Rin facepalmed and asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

“does it matter?” he said as he tilted his head.

“It does! Why would you be telling me this? You don’t get anything from this!” Rin yelled.

“Maybe I don’t want to see a brat starve to death?” he replied.

“Stop lying.” Rin said with a glare which caused the robed man to chuckle.

The robed man then pulled out an old looking book and a small pot, “Well my motive doesn’t really matter. I mean do you have any other options here?”  

Rin’s eyes widened as she clutched her jaw shut which caused the masked man to chuckle again.

“Either you follow the ritual in this book or you starve. That’s your two options and I’m sure you know which option you’re going to choose. Well to be more accurate, which option you’ve already chosen.” The man said in a way that Rin knew he was smiling under his robe.

“But …” Rin tried to lie before the man raised his arm again and snapped his fingers again as a bright light drowned everything in Rin’s sight. Rin covered her eyes as the light passed through her eyelids and fingers. After a few seconds, everything went black and Rin opened her eyes and saw the robed man was gone but the book and the pot were left on the ground in front of her.

 On the very top of the building next to the space where Rin and the robed man talked, the very same man smiled as he watched Rin pick up the book and pot.

“Avenger, what are you doing?” A cold but feminine voiced asked behind the robed man.

The robed man quickly turned around to face the voice and his smile grew larger as he saw the owner of the voice. He pulled down the hood of his robe to reveal silver and gray spiked hair man with a pleasant but cold smile. “Hello Ray or should I say Ruler?” he taunted her which caused Ruler to glare. He started to chuckle when he saw her expression.

“What’s so funny?” Ruler demanded.

“Nothing just I same the exact same expression before.” Avenger taunted as he pointed to Rin. “She looks pretty familiar huh? I mean she’s pretty much a younger you. Though the green hair is new and you know kinda impossible. Though I guess my hair and the red wool you call hair fits that description too.”

“Answer my question, what are you doing here Avenger?” Ruler demanded again.

“What not going to call me Zarc like old times?” Avenger joked as Ruler kept silent. Avenger smiled as he answered, “oh nothing so don’t worry your pretty little head of yours.”

“Nothing? You jumped from Japan to the west for nothing?” Ruler said with a bit of rage in her voice.

“If you don’t trust me, you could just kill me. I’m not exactly my invincible self right now.” Avenger taunted as he threw his hands in the air.

Ruler simply glared holes at Avenger as his grin grew larger and larger. “I knew it. As Ruler, you can’t make any direct actions unless they protect the grail. And right now all I did was prepare one of the masters for the war. If anything I just helped the grail so you can’t touch me.”

Ruler gritted her teeth and turned away from Avenger as she threatened, “I know you. When you interfere with the war, I will kill you just like in the last war. This isn’t a threat or a promise, it’s a fact.” After saying her piece, her body turned into light as she disappeared.

Avenger gave a sneer as he thought, “Soon everything will be in order, soon I’ll finally grant my wish as the Fifth Holy Grail war is finally about to start!” He closed his eyes as his body disappeared into the darkness.