#(they go with the gender presentation their sovereign wants them to have)

[creator-from-hel]

Hello people :D

Time to talk about the latest blorbo :D

This is Merenias.

Merenias is part of the environment back at the Union of Frontalier States.

Merenias is Niederin Duchy (or Blanchepierre earldom, haven't decided yet)'s favorite jester.

None of the nobility can remember what was life before Merenias came around.

Merenias answers to their sovereign and their sovereign only.

Merenias may very well be the sovereign's most trusted advisor while at the same time the one with the most sharp tongue.

Merenias made his job in relentlessly mocking the people they respect the most.

Merenias sometimes says that they only feel one emotion, and it is devotion to the crown and the head that bears it.

Merenias may have given head to said head more than once

Merenias is the butterfly effect nobody would expect while being one of the most ordinary people ever. Or are they ?

Merenias only wanted to see his love thrive.

Merenias bears survivor's guilt and a hate so deep it runs in the flesh.

Merenias seeks for themselves something they tried to inspire in other people before seeing their blood on their hands.

Merenias thinks hope only blossoms in devotion.

[definesanity]

I've been trying to write a Ranni!Reader SAGAU style fic and like I don't know if you're cool with me venting about objectively pointless things but here we go

First of all, I never actually imagine myself in self-insert fics? It's actually really immersion-breaking for me. I have no idea why. (Y/N) and other variations of self-insert fic vocabulary are also immersion breaking for me, so I'm not using them.

I keep going back and forth on Ranni!Reader's pronouns and titles. I want people in the story to call them Lady Ranni, but that's gendered? But calling them 'Your Highness' doesn't feel right? But I want to be inclusive? But it's also my fic? But I want to be inclusive???

I've decided that Diluc himself is the one who executed R!R (every hour is Diluc suffering hour in my house) and the Imposter is the one who gets Godwyn'd.

I have also decided that regardless of where the execution takes place, Neuvillette is present for it. Neuvillette might be a Dragon Sovereign, but he doesn't feel the full force of R!R's divine presence until they're executed. Imposter has something similar, but it's a weak and pale imitation of primordial godhood. It's just that no one realized until it was too late.

Furina knows of the execution but doesn't show up for it, she hardly needs to. But the following day Fontaine experiences unprecedented rainfall, like dramatically so, and Furina has a moment of 'oh, shit'

Furina: *bursts into Neuvillette's office* WHAT HAPPENED

I have learned an amount about ye olde pronouns. 'Thy' is possessive, unless the next letter starts with a vowel, then it's 'thine.' Same with 'my' and 'mine.' 'Ye' is the plural form of 'thou' and 'thee'. Non-pronoun words I'm kinda feeling out, by which I mean reading R!R's dialogue out loud to test how it sounds, meaning at least one member of my family has probably overheard me putting on a Welsh accent and speaking Shakespeare. Hardly the weirdest or most concerning thing I've done on my own time, tbh

Well, good on ya, I'll say! :D

1. I understand what you mean; my way of writing insert stories is just to never directly say the reader's name, either (Name), Y/N, or even just _____, as it helps to keep immersion.

2. My favourite gender-neutral term, which I believe might help you, is "My Liege", which is similar to "Lord/Lady". Of course, that's up to you; additionally, 'Witch' could technically a neutral term, so yeah c:

In short; the choice is ultimately yours :3

[tenebrisdivina]

Sexual energies and the demonic divine part 2

Disclaimer: This is a full post of my public one- there may be contentious views here so just be aware of that and again is from my experiences.

Something I have noticed especially with newer people to the community sometimes is a human feeling sexual attraction “from” a demon straight out, and that is what draws the human to connect with the demon. I would like to offer some clarification around this phenomenon. Demons and demonic energy are and can be very attuned to the lower chakras in humans and in connecting with a demon their energy can- by matter of course, awaken the lower chakras. The lower chakra energies are often neglected in the spiritual paths and in humans and are often times blocked. The lower chakras are also more primal and sexual energies. So when a person first connects to demonic energy, they can feel sexually aroused. This DOES NOT mean that a demon is wanting sex with you, is sexually attracted to you, or is deliberately arousing you, or is even interested in such a relationship with you. This is very important for people to understand. It is simply how their energies can interact with humans. I also suspect that because demonic energy is of the darkness and a lot of healthy sexual energies are repressed among humans collectively, that simply by connecting to the darkness it can bring about confrontation with this shadow and previously unexamined energies.

Also please check first- get consent from the demon/DL/ being ( yourself- don’t just go by what others have said the demon does) before offering sexual energy. Some may be okay with it, but some may not be- and it is very important in working with them to respect this- no matter your feelings or arousal state in the matter. Consent is key- even with otherworldy beings, just as much as it is with humans. And if you get to that point even when offering sexual energy to a demon- it does not mean you are in a sexual relationship with the demon, nor that the demon wants to have sex with you, or during the offering that the demon is actually having sex with you. The human brain is the largest sex organ and can very adequately create illusions/sock puppet a being especially when coupled with desire. It is a different experience if the being is actually engaged with you and is often very draining. Also again just having sex with a demon does not mean a romantic relationship with the demon. I believe sex is sacred and it is a privilege for a DL to choose to engage with you in this way and should be treated as such.

As for types of sex offerings and how it is different from actual sex- usually sex offerings are from masturbation, sexual fluids, or sex energy dedicated to the being. However even chanting the enn during self pleasuring does not mean you are having sex with the demon, even if the energy becomes present.

As I work with demon as individual autonomous sovereign beings and not as a “representation” of energy on a nebulous manner i.e I know them to have “bodies” and actual forms not just a type of energy. Demons are quite open and excepting of sex (and all it entails) in general. They do not have the ego attachment to sexual preference or gender ideology that humans seem to have at this point in existence. It really isn’t a big deal to them at all- they are kind of “beyond” such notions. It is also important to not project human sexual and gender terminology with demons ( or otherworldly being generally) as they often don’t use such terms and even if they do, it doesn’t mean the same thing- they are not as boxed in. That said demons at their core have a sex/gender ( especially with the level (outerworlds) that I connect with them on)- most often; divine masculine or divine feminine energies that they are at their core and aligned with( especially with DLs). Some demons can sometimes have a kind of spectrum of these energies; similar in the way that yin/yang ( which contain masc/fem energies) resides in humans- linked to the notion all humans will have both masculine and feminine energies- more aligned to one or the other or spectrum etc. Some demons can be that, but they don’t “have to” have both masculine and feminine energy within them. In fact most of them do not and are either distinctly divine masculine or divine feminine at their core. They do not have both masculine and feminine energies within them, they can be distinctly masculine or distinctly feminine in energy structure. This is because; the ideas of oneness and duality that humans experience don’t really apply to the demonic as beings- they have different energy structures. While some demonic may appear more androgynous and even take on other genitalia, sex organs etc appearances (which tbh is quite common on the astral realms for beings to be able to do; but even so it doesn’t change a beings core energy). This appearance is like a mask or a piece of clothing they can take on or off. It doesn’t change what they are at their core- the core energy they have. And yes, there are likely demonic beings who are more androgynous or “hermaphroditic” or have no distinct gender at all ( I've personally not come across any yet- but existence is vast), but most that are known among humans ( especially DLS that are known) are gendered ( as in distinctly divine masculine or divine feminine) at their core. If a human sees them as something other then this ( when still recognizing them as “bodied” individuals), it is due to the humans paradigm and beliefs- this does not affect the “reality” of what the demon is.

Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine energies

(Note: for this part I am speaking purely of the energies themselves – not all the human cultural notions and gender discourse etc that have been lumped in with this, I personally am more aligned to polarity anyway – this does not mean to me at all that other experiences can’t/don’t exist or are invalid, wrong etc nor placing limits on anyone’s experiences- I am personally perfectly fine (and quite neutral tbh I just am not that interested in peoples sex lives or how they identify)) with whatever humans choose to identify as; it is of no bother to me- just don’t shove it down my throat, demand that your experiences/views are more valid or important than anyone else’s experiences in life, or project your experiences onto others esp the Divine and demonic divine. I am not getting into a discourse about that beyond this)

Divine masculine and divine feminine energies themselves are not restricted to human stereotypes or human notions, These are actual primal energies themselves, period. And true divine masculine and divine feminine energies are more complex and not reliant on human gender notions or necessarily specifically sexual organs- however the sexual organs are like a blooming or a “symptom” of the masculine or feminine energies and there are ties between them- but it is not solely that- which is a representative of either one. The genitalia is incorporated and part of these energies (and is still an important aspect of this given how it relates to and is representative of/alludes to function of the divine masculine and divine feminine energies) but the divine masculine and divine feminine energies are not limited to the sex organs/genitalia, and as energy are well beyond that.

Take Lady Lilith for example; She is divine feminine being and has these energies as her core energy structure- She (especially Lilith that I connect with in the outer multiversal realm) is distinctly feminine energies and doesn’t have a “girl cock” as some people seem to be fond of saying (due to the nature of this type of genitalia on a divine feminine being (at Her level) kind of creates a distorted/illusory energy to the nature of divine feminine energies- ie it is more penetrative by nature, then what divine feminine energy is like). This does not mean she can’t at times appear with a phallus if she chooses to (most often as I know Her, She does not) nor that people don’t see her with a phallus ( this is due to how the human is interpreting her energy) nor that she isn’t fully supportive of LGTBQIA+  people ( seems to be a modern notion) she is- as are most demons- they don’t have the biases/egos humans do. But if she appears with a phallus to people either it is because for some reason she chose to, but most often if it is because of the humans interpretation of the energies ( which is limited.) Lady Lilith still remains at her core energy divine feminine.

Lord Lucifer for example is/has always been and will always be divine masculine energies. He is and never has been female. (Personally I feel that people who get Lucifer as feminine are interacting with an egeregore). But I also feel that sometimes humans interpret feminine energies because of the Venusian connection- which in the west has been historically considered ( and collectively unconscious level) feminine energy. Of course the how and why the energies are interpreted how they are is a much more complex topic then just what I am saying here.

Lord Leviathan is also another- He is divine masculine at his core and while may appear androgynous and can very much “toe the line” between divine masculine and feminine energy. His energy is less distinct, He is still at His core male. I do feel that because he does deal with emotions ( which humans seem to unhelpfully relegate to feminine spheres) and is oceanic ( and again the ocean can be on a collective unconscious level- seen as feminine) humans read him as female. This is not nor has never been the case in my experiences of Him (one of His daughters is my companion, so we have discussed this at length) and especially on the level I interact with him on. That said his energies are not as easy to distinguish unless you are really looking. Again however this is on the divine level of these energies not the limitations humans place on them.

Emperor Satan is also distinctly divine masculine energies.

Marriages among Demons

Another thing I wanted to add is what I know of the demonic marriages and partnerships among the demons- which may be of interest to some people. On the level that I know and connect to the demonic of the outer realms, the DLs do not marry humans- I have not met any others who are married to humans other than my spouses and that is because of soul alignment on my part at least. This is the information I have received from my questioning the DLs on this. Also most if not all DLs and demons I have come across- have multiple partners and spouses - if married and that is the norm.

( just a side note by the term "straight" here I mean: not that the demon in question has never sexually engaged with other genders ( it is actually quite common to do so for most beings but again personal preference- humans would call this bi- demons do not- they don't "care" as such ( esp. with labels), since its not often about [just] that in choosing partners) etc, but that this is Their preference and also in marriage - the relationship type- and this is what I mean by human notions of such things do not really describe what it is like for demons)

Emperor Satan( straight male) has 4 wives( none of which has ever been Lilith)- all of which are unknown to human realms. I have met and worked with one of His wives and Her energy is so intense- that I am not allowed to give her physical offerings nor do I know her name ( since it is too complex for the human mind-I was given a nickname to use)- as it draws her too much into this earthen sphere and she would damage the energetic structure of this sphere simply because of who she is. She also does not like to be called through the qlipoth (which tbh is my go-to if I am having trouble connecting to an entity and they are open to it- as the qlipoth is kind of a landing space for the level of darkness energy these demons have)

Lord Mammon ( straight male) has 24 wives- two of whom are Lady Rashoon and Lady Asafoetida

Lord Lucifer ( straight male) has many wives and non demonic wives as well but has never married any humans.

Lord Leviathan( male/androgynous, straight) has 4 wives; 3 are unknown to earthen sphere, one is Lady Unsere.

Samael( male straight) has the 4 Queens as his wives- these are Eisheth Zenanim, Aggreth, Lilith( who has never been married to either Lucifer nor Emperor Satan) and Naamah- while the wives ( demons in general may do) may engage sexually with others ( I know Nammah and Lucifuge Rofocale have been together at some point) they (the wives) are only married to Samael and are not partnered with others. Marriage is different for demons then a sexual relationship- it is much deeper. Also none of the wives are Lord Asmodeus’ mother- he is a different “species”. I do believe that Naamah ( and some of the others) have been with Asmodeus as well. They are not married though. If King Asmodeus is married, I think they are unknown to this sphere.

King Belial(male) has many concubines though I am not sure He is married- He also is known to ask for sex energy offerings.

King Paimon( male straight) is not married and actually doesn’t like sex energy offerings (from humans). Nor does Lord Abaddon( male straight)- who also is not married.

Lord O (male) has been alive/in existence for many millenia and over that time has had 372 wives but currently I am his only wife.

Lord S(male) has 8 spouses, including me. All of the others are demonic and of his own race.

Also just to add that some of these marriages can be politically based and not “for love” as such. That doesn’t mean they treat the spouse necessarily as anything less then the others. With Those DLs who have multiple spouses- usually there is a ranking and hierarchy to them and how they are interacted with- but its really up to those involved and usually the DL decides this.

artist is NanFe https://www.deviantart.com/nanfe

[ellatamara]

All my D&D player characters*

*that I’ve made and played (or will play soon, in one case). I also played a pre-gen bard for a one-shot once but I don’t remember anything about them.

The characters are presented in chronological order from left to right in the line-up according to when I made them. Characters’ names, pronouns, descriptions under the cut:

Hhaamm, he/him, half-orc barbarian (in 3.5e, all others are 5e), my very first dnd character for a one-shot-turned-two-shot. All four PCs were half siblings with the same human mother. He is easily distracted by good food as well as by small creatures calling for help, even if they are evil little halfling scammers. My first game made me want to DM because I could tell it was fun, fit my interests, and… I figured I could do a better job at it (sorry Theo, if you ever read this, but also thank you for getting me into this game).

Zarrakas Kyvir, he/him, tiefling bard for a dream sequence one-shot my cousin ran. All the characters were in some way different in the dream, but since Zarrakas was brand new, I decided he was a wizard in the waking world. He was very confused to see his spellbook replaced by a pan flute. He got paralyzed when a death knight showed up, and we were level 7 or something, so that was terrifying until it turned out the death knight only had 1 hit point. Whew.

Merlix, he/him, gnome druid for a one-shot where I got to use Intelligence for druid spellcasting and reflavored a land druid (Underdark, I think) as an artificer, using the rock gnome tinkering thingamajig as a spellcasting focus. This was before the artificer class was added to 5e.

Dine, she/her, human paladin, partially randomly generated for a one-shot (yes, I was kind of a forever DM, playing rarely and for a long time only in one-shots). We all rolled for character gender, and we all happened to roll up women. I never went back to he/him pronouns for my PCs nor for myself 🏳️‍⚧️

Pyra or Random, she/her, tiefling wild magic sorcerer, again partially randomly generated, including her virtue name from Xanathar’s Guide, and some traits from the 2e Planewalker’s Handbook. Her demon mother left her on the doorstep to an abandoned house. The neighbours took her in and raised her as a wild child. She was later kidnapped by a hag and forced to work for her, cleaning, cooking, and receiving guests in her hut while the hag was out during the day. These guests included anything from fiends to innocent villagers doomed to suffer some cruel irony after seeking the hag’s help. She eventually escaped in a lucky fit of wild magic and later joined the merchant ship and adventuring crew The Advantage. Random is my most played PC, and she has changed a lot over the years, though mostly from wild magic surges haha.

Mohilda Duskbraid, she/her, dwarf grave cleric created for Tomb of Annihilation and based on a prompt on whothefuckismydndcharacter.com. We allegedly have one session left of that campaign, and it’s been a lot of fun so far. ToA is very different from out regular playstyle, but still fun. She loves mystery and local spirits, so she was eager to be possessed by I’Jin.

Tomph, she/her, half-orc battle master fighter created for a one-shot set in Exandria we never got very far into. I think we broke into the tomb of Sovereign Uriel Tal’Dorei but I don’t remember why the party was hired to go there in the first place. I still really like her name. tomph. Tomph. ᴛᴏᴍᴘʜ. It’s fun to say.

Nissa, she/her, gnome way of the drunken master monk made for a one-shot inspired by Guards! Guards! which I regrettably still have yet to read. She’s a tambourine-playing martial arts dancer, and I think the tambourine might have been her monk weapon?

Mahogany Leafsworth, she/they, gnome bard for Wild Beyond the Witchlight. Mahogany has lost her sense of time (but not her rhythm) and is frequently late or far too early for her gigs, so her music career isn’t doing super well. I only played her once, so not much more to say other than she hid inside the hollow warforged character’s leg and helped cheat in the cupcake eating contest at the festival.

Niks Rotscute, they/it, kobold warlock and the Wizard Gizzard Lizard of Strixhaven. They have a pseudodragon familiar called Leviathan, and they love all things dragon. Their patron is a voice that speaks to them in draconic, and their aesthetic is oops I fell in the swamp on purpose again. They actually use goblin stats, because I liked those better than the published kobolds, so I guess Niks is a… gobold?

Halcyon, they/them, aasimar divine soul sorcerer created for a two-shot (but I was sick for the finale) set in a heavily cut-down, modified version of BG: Descent Into Avernus. Their adoptive parents had a prophecy that their child should become a powerful evil, so they decided to adopt a baby aasimar instead of conceiving a child of their own. This prophecy was ~100% irrelevant to the game and Halcyon will ~0% show up in any game again. They did use an infernal war machine to gun down a horde of fiends though, which was 100% cool. And yes, that is a robe of stars and a staff of power.

Fenra, she/they, half-orc barbarian/cleric made a brief appearance at the end of a campaign with the same group as the Avernus game. To keep things short: She killed the Xanathar and my partner made some cute drawings of the battle.

Artemisia or Malurt, she/they, air genasi ranger, starting early next year, I will be playing this new character in a modified (and translated) Ghosts of Saltmarsh Spøgelser af Søndermarsk(?) campaign. She has a rival from her backstory, which is a fun little knife—or gun—to hand to your DM. She also has no idea that she’s a genasi and not just a human like her family. I should probably send over my backstory doc to the DM for review…

[ofswordandcrowns]

It is with great honor that I present (MATAI) of HOUSE (MEKSI), the (PRINCE) of (EDDIS). They are (TWENTY-SEVEN) and look a great deal like (LEWIS TAN). Their people have described them as (CONFIDENT & DETERMINED) but be careful, for their closest friends have disclosed that they are also known to be quite (CRITICAL & STRONG-WILLED).

basic info

full name — Matai Lee Meksi

age — Twenty-Seven

kingdom — Eddis

gender — cis male, (he/ him/ his pronouns)

religion —follows the beliefs of all deities, but sends the most prayers to Aznas (primarily before a fight).

occupation — prince of Eddis and hopeful future Queen of another kingdom

living arrangements — the royal palace in Rockreach

physical info

face claim — Lewis Tan

hair — black / eyes — brown

height — six foot & three inches

clothing style — form-fitting clothing that accentuates his body, as it's something he's quite proud of (its something he worked hard on), but often can be seen wearing just a pair of breeches when he's resting in between workouts (or bouts in the fights he partakes in).

sexual preference — versatile, perfectly happy bottoming or topping, but dominant. do not think he'll be some pillow prince(ss) if you do decide to sleep with him.

The second son, the spare to the heir, Matai had always been raised to be a proper prince, to learn how to sit pretty and present himself in the hopes that one day he would be able to make an impressive match with someone. Of course, as his brother’s spare, he knew that they had to train him in the ways of governing if, for some reason, his elder brother would be unable to assume his father’s throne, and so he was thrown into lessons in politics and tactics in addition to his lessons in etiquette. He knew, though, what his parents really saw him as - a way to strengthen their bond with another kingdom, to ensure that the Eddisian kingdom would succeed for generations to come because of their alliance with their neighbors. Or, at least, that’s how it felt to him.

And of their neighbors, the sovereigns of Nok were the ones that made the most sense. After all, their borders on the Magdani mountains, and their mutual interesting in the mining trade - one for ore, the other for gems and minerals - made it practical to tie their families in a way that would last for generations. And, of course, it only made sense that they would offer Matai. He was only a couple of years younger than the eldest prince of Nok, and they had practically polished him to be the perfect spouse to a future King.

But Matai was not satisfied being shipped off like some prized pony to some stud to ensure a strong lineage. With anger fueling his veins, Matai decided that the best way to let out the aggression and steam was by entering in the underground fighting rings in Eddis - and even in the rest of Aladonia. It was unbecoming of someone whose parents wanted him to be a future Queen, but really, Matai didn’t care. And though he lost - a lot -  at first, he became better and better and fine-tuned his body into a fighting machine and by the time he reached his twentieth nameday, it was hard-pressed to find someone that could easily best him - even seasoned knights have found themselves bested by Matai’s martial prowess, both with his hands and with his blade.

Of course, his parents very much disapproved of his activities outside of the castle - especially when he would return home with a multitude of cuts and bruises - because it was unbecoming of someone that would, one day, become a future queen. It wasn’t queenly to go searching for a battle, to enjoy the rush that came with getting someone to concede defeat, but Matai was not someone that would simply sit back and allow whoever he married to take complete control. They would have to earn his hand, and they would have to be okay with him wanting their relationship to be on equal grounding - that the King wouldn’t automatically be more important than the Queen, and that the Queen wasn’t some damn damsel in distress that needed rescuing.

He isn’t particularly sure if the talks of betrothal between his kingdom and the Nokian kingdom are still in the talks, or if his parents have given up all hopes in making a respectable Queen out of him, but Matai finds himself conflicted now. While he detests the idea of becoming anyone’s trophy wife, his only job to stand by his husband’s side and make them look pretty, he does find himself wanting to become a Queen. He just doesn’t want to be the kind of King that sits idly by when his King is off doing god-knows-what – or god-knows-who – so he knows that he’s going to have to at least try if he wants to impress any of the future princes into marrying him.

But if he can keep fighting in the meantime? He’s definitely going to. It’s the one thing, really, that he feels is his thing and not something that came because of the name he carried.

[gold-rhine]

I am not sure where to put this but I am. quite Mildly Annoyed by seeing roleswap AUs with Neuvillette and Furina. Like, idk, what’s going to change? Gender??? (Roleswap is Sovereign Furina and human/Focalors impersonator Neuvi specifically.) It gives me a kind of feeling that authors want to avoid writing Furina’s complexities and instead project it onto blorbified fandom bbygirl Neuvillette when the existing dynamic is right there. Ofc people can write what they want and I’m not against roleswaps for them as a rule but it really rubbed me the wrong way. Idk am I crazy out here

bold of u to come into #1 neuvi defence squad inbox and first call him names and second imply that furina has complexity in canon and he doesn't. all very unbiased moves on your part lol. like if you don't think position of dragon god that was killed by humans and then reborn in human form and now has to pretend to be one of them and live in their society as a judge, serving directly under false god who keeps his stolen power is not complex, idk what to tell u. mb dont seek out content with neuvi if u dont like him, idk

that said, i didnt see these aus so i cant say anything on execution, but idk about concept bc neuvi's inhumanity is a huge part of him and if you remove it, he becomes completely different character. like neuvi in present characterization would not last 3 seconds as pretend archon, bc he can't read ppls reactions and he doesn't lie, he wouldnt be able to adjust on the fly as furina did. you'd also have to instead add this inhumanity to furina, which changes her character completely bc being human is essential to her. they are OCs at this point.

[thuranni]

aurora character study, 4.3k words

was chatting with my dm a while ago about aurora and gender and i wrote things about it. that's about it. OH!! ripley is a faceless background bard for some context >:3

Ellis sighs too loudly. "You look just like your mother."

Aurora frowns and pulls at the neck of her shirt, staring at her own consternated reflection in the bathroom mirror in what can only be described 16-year-old hatred.

"Sure," she says, tugging a lock of hair free from where it's pinned behind her ear.

The bun doesn't suit her, she's sure of it, and it's going to give her a headache from hell, but Ellis wanted her to look presentable and she wanted to be comfortable and this was a suitable compromise in his eyes. He reaches over to step into her bubble, straightens her collar; she jerks away as he tries to do up the last button.

(She doesn't get it. Ellis doesn't care about any of this shit the rest of the time.)

"Aurora-"

"It's fine," she huffs. "I look fine. Can we go? We're gonna be late and Octavius will kill us. Me, mostly."

He glances up at the clock by the window. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, oh shit," she says, frowning as she turns to find her way back through the kitchen and out the back door. "You coming?"

She turns to look at Ellis, and he's standing by the sink, staring at her, eyes gentle and clouded with memories she does not share. Aurora's fists ball into her skirt.

"You really do look just like her."

--

Ripley's mask falls off once on the train, and she watches the color leave their cheeks.

It's not as packed as it could be here- there's a couple families further down from them that aren't paying attention to them, a gaggle of drunk friends coming back from a different show that are trying to subtly sneak looks over at them- and Aurora's watched them lean their head back against the wall to ignore it, evade it, anything they can do. And that's their downfall.

Because their stop arrives, and they straighten out for it to fall to the ground and shatter.

Aurora doesn't know what to do for a second and neither do they, freezing in place looking at the shards on the ground.

Until one of the drunks makes a noise like an uh ohhhh.

Aurora had dressed smartly for the night- she'd paid good money for a tailor when she'd finally had the means to, and she cares about this coat, gets it fucking dry cleaned- and she thanks the entire Sovereign Host when she shrugs it off her shoulders and obstructs their face from view.

"Come on," she says, low and careful, and she can feel their hands shaking when they take the coat from her. Her elbow taps against their hand, and they take it to let her lead them off the train.

She is glaring daggers at the group the entire time. They don't seem to know what to make of it.

There are fewer stragglers around this stop at this time of night, though what few there are do give the pair of them an odd glance she does her best to ignore, leading them up the stairs out of the underground and making the walk back to her own place.

It's chilly, this time of night, and she welcomes it whipping through her hair after the train. Each step is quiet as they pass over the sidewalk through the complex arching to welcome them. Ripley's hand stays tight on her elbow. She wants, more than anything, to cover their hand with her own when she hears them audibly sniff.

Aurora's apartment is on the nicer end of things, considering the area- she has her own building to herself, with the space for her own workshop, which is the first thing they step into as soon as she gets the front door unlocked and guides Ripley in with her.

The door is shut and bolted before they lower the coat from their face.

"Honey," she says softly.

There are tearstains that have marred their makeup, despite their best efforts at setting their look before the show; Aurora pulls them down into her arms and they follow, letting her card her fingers through their hair in a gesture she hopes is soothing.

"I'm sorry," they murmur against her shoulder.

Aurora's metal hand reaches to pull the coat from their hand and hang it on the rack behind them. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm the one who wanted to leave the party."

"Babe? I love Jovi but ze's loud and you were already overwhelmed after the show."

"I know, but-"

"It's okay." She strokes their hair, tucking a lock back behind their ear. "I like having you to myself after a show, you know."

"I like being with just you." They sniff again, and Aurora holds them a little tighter. "I like it when it's quiet and there's you."

[eretzyisrael]

Identity and Reality

This morning I picked up a book from my philosophy student days, “Identity and Reality,” by Emile Meyerson. It’s a book about the metaphysical foundations of science, but the title inspired me.

Everyone has an identity in the sense of their answer to the question “what are you?” Almost everyone has a need to find, adopt, or construct an answer. Often it’s a list of things: a mother, a Jew, a football fan, a plumber, and so on. Recently “gender identity” has been added.

There is no national identity with a longer pedigree than that of the Jewish people. For millennia Jews have had a unique language and religion, and a tradition that connects them to the Land of Israel, which (according to that tradition) was given to them by Hashem. Religious Jews explicitly remind themselves of this three times a day.

This makes “Jewish” a very desirable identity. As Jimmy Durante said (about something else), “everybody wants to get into the act,” despite the anti-Jewish attitudes that Jews have to deal with. Jewish identity is so sought-after, that one of the popular themes of antisemites is to claim that they are the “real Jews” and we are Khazars or just fakers. If a Jew chooses to live in the Land of Israel, they have additional prejudices against them. Recently a European “anti-fascist” said that as an Israeli Jew, I was “stealing the very air I breathe.”

But still, the Jewish identity is attractive because – here is the connection to the book I picked up – it is solidly grounded in reality. Lots of people hate Jews and even want to kill them, but no identity is better documented. Indeed, one of the most important parts of the cognitive warfare that is being waged against the Jewish people by its enemies is the effort to break down that identity; in particular, to disconnect us from the Land of Israel. So, for example, Palestinian Arabs go out of their way to destroy archaeological evidence of ancient Jewish provenance in the land, as they have done at the Temple Mount and numerous other sites.

Mahmoud Abbas has always insisted that “Jewish” refers only to a religion, not to a people, because a people can have ties to a particular land, and if there were a Jewish people, this would be their land. This is why he objected so strongly to the condition that he recognize Israel as the state of the Jewish people, although he claims to recognize Israel’s existence. This is why the PLO has never agreed to the formulation “two states for two peoples,” although it claims to support a “two state solution.”

Tribal identities are important to Arabs, but attempts to forge a pan-Arab identity among Arabic speakers haven’t been particularly successful, because, for example, North Africans, Egyptians, and Syrians have little in common. A great deal of energy is put into the attempt to establish that there is a historical “Palestinian” identity, but the people who identify as “Palestinians” today have diverse origins, with many of them relatively recent (after 1830) migrants to the area. There is very little that is specifically Palestinian in their culture (as opposed to tribal, Arab, or Muslim), other than elements that developed in opposition to Israel. They didn’t even self-identify as “Palestinian” until the 1960s. That is not to say that there cannot be a “Palestinian people” – give them another 3000 years, and if they still remember the Nakba, they may become as well-established as the Jewish people.

The Palestinian argument is that we, the Jews, appeared from Europe in the 20th century and “colonized” a long-established indigenous “Palestinian people,” ultimately taking their land by force, driving most of them out of their homes and not allowing them to return. The Jews, according to this story, are not even a people, just a bunch of Europeans whose made-up religious myth connects them to what is actually the Palestinians’ homeland (I am not sure how they account for the more than 50% of Israelis who previously lived in various Arab countries).

Like all “Europeans,” the story continues, the Jews are white racists who exploit black and brown indigenous peoples like the Palestinians. Justice therefore requires that the Jews should give up control of the land to its “rightful owners,” the millions of descendants of the Arab refugees of 1948.

The Palestinian story is wildly wrong on several points. First, there were several ancient Jewish commonwealths in the Land of Israel, and some Jews always were present during the millennia in which the land was under the control of various outside powers. Doubtless some of today’s Palestinians are also descended from ancient residents of the land, but the great bulk of Palestinian families arrived much later. So the claim that Arabs are “more indigenous” than Jews is false. Arab families with names like “al Musri” (Egyptian) or “al Haurani” (Syrian) and numerous others testify to their origins.

Second, when the Zionists arrived and began developing what would become the Jewish state, it was not in the possession of the Palestinian Arabs – there was never a sovereign Palestinian entity in the land – but was a colony of the Ottoman Empire. Most private land belonged to absentee owners. Shortly thereafter the British Mandate was established, and the Arabs, led by Amin al-Husseini, who later cast his lot with Hitler, violently tried to prevent the advent of Jewish sovereignty. When the British were forced out, the Jews defeated the Palestinian Arabs and the Arab nations that invaded (who were interested in grabbing territory and kicking the Jews out, not in setting up a Palestinian state). The Jews did not “colonize” Palestine – they decolonized it, by ejecting the British.

Third, by the time the British left and the Arab nations invaded, the Palestinian Arabs had been fighting with the Jews for several months (with the connivance of the British, who preferred that the land come under Arab control). Much of the Arab elite fled early in order to avoid the conflict (some went to summer homes in Lebanon). The poorer Arabs fled for various reasons, including fear induced by propaganda about Jewish atrocities – which was not difficult for them to believe, since their own leaders planned to do the same to the Jews if they got the upper hand. Some Arabs were expelled (Lod or Lydda) because their towns or villages fought on the side of the Arab armies. Some 500-700 thousand Arabs left for various reasons, but there was no overall plan to expel them. In some cases (Haifa) Jewish authorities asked non-belligerent Arabs to stay.

After the war, only a few were allowed to return. The new state simply could not take the risk of allowing hostile Arabs to return and reignite the war. This was a classic ethnic conflict over land, and the usual result of these is either that the weaker side becomes refugees, or the winner massacres the losers. The leaders of the Arab nations did not hide their intention to massacre the Jews if they won. The 800,000 Jews kicked out of Arab countries at about the same time suffered a similar fate to the Palestinian Arabs.

Fourth, and finally, the whole “racism” theme is nonsense. Only a minority of Israelis ever lived in Europe. They range in color from black Ethiopians to white Europeans with red hair and freckles. Most are various shades of brown, as are Palestinians, who also include the descendants of black slaves and – if you remember her – Ahed Tamimi, who earned the nickname “Shirley Temper” for kicking and hitting Israeli soldiers, with her pale skin and blonde hair. The conflict is best described as national and religious, not racial.

But unlike other similar conflicts, the losers managed to persuade the world of the justice of their cause, with the help of the Soviet KGB, the Arab oil weapon, the liberal application of terrorism, and the exploitation of the always-present antisemitism of the west. Which is why my European anti-fascist acquaintance thinks I’m an oxygen bandit.

Abu Yehuda

[extremelyblackandwhite]

where does it end?

Pairing: Queen!Reader x Knight!Bucky Barnes 

Warning(s): angst, sexual themes, triggering content, dark!steve

A/N: by @lookiamtrying​ request, i am posting the last part to an year old mini fanfic i wrote. last chapter inspired by love me or leave me. enjoy xx

The world had barely seen the Queen ever since her loss. She was locked in her room and never left for any reason. Steve had been assigned her duties and her meals were taken into her chambers by her handmaidens. She had even moved her King and husband from her room. No one heard from her and some handmaidens were quick to start coming up with the wildest of theories while some believed she could be expecting, but James knew it wasn’t the truth. 

     - The King’s calling for you, Sir Barnes. - Natalia walked into the training chambers where he was supervising some new blood into the royal army. James sighed, turning to his second and telling him to take his place before following the redhead into the King’s headquarters.

He wasn’t very keen on talking to him much less look at him. James despised him with every drop of his being but yet he couldn’t figure out if it was because he had gotten the ultimate prize or if he had threatened to have her head cut off due to infidelity which had never happen. 

They finally stopped in front of the King’s Quarters which had been the young Queen’s library and now rudely turned into somewhere where Lord Rogers rudely tried to take her place. He was royalty but he didn’t have the grace or the beautiful ruling ability the Queen had. 

    - Your Royal Highness ... - the redheaded female knocked on the huge mahogany doors whose initials had been removed. She slowly opened the door to see the blonde reading some papers. - Sir Barnes is here, as you requested. 

    - Thank you, Lady Romanova. - he said, not even looking up from his papers. Natalia took James inside, leaving him there only hearing his heartbeat and the wood crackling on the fireplace. He heard the doors closing behind and his last conversation with the king came to mind. 

    - Your Majesty, what do you wish from me? - no matter how hard he disliked the man, he was still his King and while Y/N was unavailable, he’d have to answer to him and only him.

    - You are a smart man, Sir Barnes. My advisors say you take it after your father, ever so calculating. You’re a man who, like me, knows that despite our dear Queen being ever so thoughtful, ever so loved, she has one job that she needs to do as a Royal of her gender. Can you tell me what is it?

    - Provide heirs to ensure the house keeps on. - James refused to look Steve in the eyes. He didn’t understand where he was going, he didn’t understand why he asked that. - What does that have to do with me, your majesty?

    - She refuses to see me and since she’s the rightful heir, her advisors have suggested another husband for the Queen considering we won’t produce any heirs. - Steve got up from his seat walking up to one of the countless shelves filled with books owned by the crown family. - I’ve spent years in my brother’s shade, heir in spare and I will not have my marriage annulled and lose my crown because my wife refuses to lay with me. 

    - I don’t understand what that has to do with me, Your Majesty. 

    - My wife clearly doesn’t want to lay with me but she doesn’t seem to have minded laying with you before we were married. At this point I don’t care who the child is as long as she’s pregnant. 

Bucky’s heart sank into his stomach as his brain started to process what he was asking of him. It couldn’t be, he wouldn’t want that, Bucky couldn’t do that. His eyes seemed void of life as he looked up at his King whose position was so so fickle.

    - I don’t think I understand, your Majesty. - Bucky hoped he didn’t understand, he really hoped he was wrong. 

   - What part of fuck my wife do you not understand, Sir Barnes? - he growled at the man standing in front of him. - I will not be thrown off my rightful throne because my wife refuses to get knocked up. 

   - With all due respect, your Majesty, it is her rightful throne. She’s the heir.

   - You see, Sir Barnes I really don’t wanna accuse my wife of adultery. It will end up in her beheading and I really don’t think the people would enjoy that. Besides, of course I will pay you a good amount for your service and it’s not like I will deprive you of seeing the child. - Bucky could feel himself churn at the thought of the man so many called loyal and rightful treat Y/N as if she were a breeding dog, as if she were a business, as if she wasn’t the human with the heart of gold he knew she had.

No, no, Bucky couldn’t do that to her. He knew his Queen like the palm of his heart, she was sweet, fair and anyone who’s by her company normally basks in her light which seems to reflect of her own words. He couldn’t agree to treat her as if she was merely a breeding object but he also couldn’t allow for her to be beheaded. It terrified him to see the face he used to love to wake up next to, her little smirky whenever she stole swords from knights as her princess, her sunny smile whenever she performed an operetta correctly gone. He couldn’t see her gone. No. He had promised to protect his sovereign and she would always be her Queen.

     - I cannot do that. 

     - Your father fought to protect this kingdom. I am fighting to protect it too, you cannot let a woman rule by herself, who’ll inherit the throne? Besides, you surely didn’t mind fucking her like a cheap whore when she wasn’t married.

     - Your wife has always been loyal to you since her marriage. I’ve told you that before. 

     - Then I think you have a choice to make. 

Bucky felt the world collapse on top of his. Through his mind rushed the moments he had shared with her, from the very first moment he met her sitting at one of her mother’s teas, pink frilly dress, the smile she gave him to her wedding when he refused to stop the ceremony. He wondered if he should’ve had stopped but he also wondered what life he could’ve given her. It didn’t matter anymore, he should’ve stopped it, he should’ve done something. He thought of the life she could’ve had if he had stopped her, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant, she wouldn’t have lost the baby, he wouldn’t have disappointed her once again and she wouldn’t be traded around like a harlot.

As he exited the study, he knew what he had to do. He had to take her away from the kingdom as sure as possible, send her to one of their allies, maybe to one of her younger sister’s kingdoms gained by marriage, anywhere that could aid her in stopping what was happening behind her back.

    - Don’t. - he turned around to see his wife, Natalia. She held a cold look in her face, too cold contrasted to her fiery red hair but he still could point out the crack in the ice of her eyes. It was still there, begging. - I know what you’re thinking about, James. Don’t do it. 

    - Get off my way, Natalia. - she stood in front of him like an unmovable rock, stronger than the tide itself, never stopping. - I won’t say it again.

    - Just sleep with her, James. He’ll pay you well and we could leave this, we could maybe buy a piece of land, start over. - jealousy is a damned thing, he realised. He realised jealousy had shaped the wife once friend who he had known all his life as someone who knew right from wrong, it had shaped her into a cunning woman, one which knew how to ride the problem of her marriage away. But she couldn’t erase the problem, she could never get what was already someone else’s, no matter how hard she tried. - You’ll only end up getting yourself killed.

    - Move.

    - No, James. 

    - Do not make me hurt you. - he stepped closer to the red head, close enough he could feel her breathing on his face, fists clenched. 

    - Would you hurt your wife for her? 

Yes. The answer was yes but he wouldn’t say it to her. Instead he shoved her away from him, watching as his lack of answer broke through her cold facade allowing him to overpower her. Natalia watched as he strode through the halls, not even looking back. He had been gone a long, long time away, but now, now he was walking away and she stood in the corridor, on her knees, stubborn soul refusing for the tears gathered on her eyes to stream down her face, hate growing where love once blossomed. 

Bucky strode through the corridors, the phantom of Y/N still haunting him as if the memory of younger, better days were pulling at his brain like bottled regrets. She would always let her hand close to his, hoping for him to grab it and he never did, he never did. He wondered why he never did. As he stepped closer to her chambers, he could see her handmaids surrounding the door, still locked out and not allowed in. 

   - You’re needed elsewhere. - he spoke in a tone which left no room for interpretation. The girls immediately rush away, fears of the man which seemed to had turned bitter with time too present in their minds. Bucky didn’t care or feel any pity for them. They had comfortable lives, they didn’t need pity, they needed to be away from the Queen.

His hand went straight to the door handle, pushing it open but the door didn’t budge. Y/N was still locked in. He tried in, hoping the door would cave in but once again it didn’t. They weren’t supposed to cave in. His fists started banging against the gold encrusted door and had he not lost his flesh arm long years ago, it would’ve started bleeding from the force alone. 

    - Open the door, Y/N! - desperation dripped from his voice but she herself, like the door didn’t cave in.

   - Stop banging on the door and go away, James. - he could hear her from the other door. So close and yet so far away.

   - Open this door or so help me I will break it down myself. - Y/N didn’t doubt him. She knew what his arm could do but she was also much too smart not to get hurt again. Nevertheless, she unlocked the door, turning the small golden key held by the lock and he immediately pushed the door open. Her eyes scanned him, he was deranged, like an animal in the wild.

   - Get out, James. I swear I will call the guards on you. 

   - We need to go. - he walked into her bedroom, straight to the hanger where her cape hanged from. Grabbing it, he threw it at her but Y/N remained in her spot, no affection for him in his face. Had he not been so concerned for her head remaining on her shoulders, it would’ve hurt him. - I said we need to go, Y/N. 

    - You don’t get to order me around. 

    - Do you still love me? - the question took Y/N by surprise. Almost as if something had hit her, she took a few steps back, looking behind her to see that not so far away there were some guards. She could just call for them.

    - James, I will call the gu ...

    - Do you still love me? - he interrupted the young queen, punctuating every single word like a stab on an already aching heart. There was no saint, there was no devil, just two aching hearts filled with scars that were starting to harden the youthful hope it used to harbour.

Did she still love him? Yes. She can’t find the words to tell him, head and heart bleeding in negative thoughts. She could never say to him she didn’t and whenever she told him she did, he would turn his face and walk away leaving her broken, shattered on the floor by a love surely classic love tales warned her about. In her memory everything still burned from when he said he didn’t love her from when he called himself a mere companion. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him she loved him so instead she nodded.

    - I have to get you out right now. I’ll explain later. - he stepped towards her but there was no ice cold nature to him, no violence. Instead, he slide the cape behind her, tying it around her neck before placing the hood over her head. It was a bleak brown cape she would use whenever going into the town’s market. 

His hand wrapped around hers as he turned the opposite way from the guards, walking towards the training grounds from which he could sneak her out and into the carriage which led into the town where she could get a train ticket into one of her sisters’ kingdoms. He kept rushing through the halls until a very familiar voice made him stop, rushing her to the opposite corridor. Both of them were up against the wall. 

   - Thank you for letting me know, Natalia. - the voice boomed through the corridor before he turned to address the guard with him. - Make sure Sir Barnes and the Queen leave. Sadly, our Queen seems to have chosen an illicit affair over her wedding and therefore she is a traitor to our country. 

Y/N looked up to Bucky, not understanding exactly what had happened but knowing she clearly couldn’t remain in the castle. Bucky mouthed kitchen to her, before helping her rush down the corridor onto the kitchen. Both of them ran through the oven heated grounds until the wooden door. Luckily for them, it was open.

   - Here. - Bucky handed her a small pouch. - There’s enough for a train ticket and more if anything happens. 

   - Are you coming?

   - Bucky, you’re gonna be killed. If affair isn’t believed, he’ll surely blame you for rape or kidnapping and he’ll kill you.

   - Y/N.

   - Do you love me? - she had one hand on the open door’s handle and one extended to him.

Yes. His hand touched hers and they exited, door behind them closed as everything was left behind.

[autumnblogs]

Day 11: Melodrama

WIth Act 4 over, we’ve finished setting up the pins on the Earth Side of this story. We are now roughly one quarter of the way through the full story - and Homestuck is set up more or less in four acts, rather than in six acts as its “official” structure would suggest.

Time to start setting up the pins on the other disc.

https://homestuck.com/story/1942

But first, some more of Andrew’s prose to detail the fallout of the Sovereign Slayer’s activity. He’s been a busy man.

Also, Rose goes off the rails, but we knew that already.

This is the part of the story where Rose becomes an antagonist, in my opinion. More on that later. More after the break.

https://homestuck.com/story/1955

A letter from another version of Earth.

One of the very first things that we learn about Jake is that one of his all time favorite movies is Weekend at Bernie’s, an association that is part of a long list of red-herrings that link Jake up with Lord English, but of which nothing ultimately comes. It’s an association mostly because Bernie is a corpse who is also a puppet (like Doc Scratch, for example).

All that has already been pointed out by a lot of people before me, so moving on.

https://homestuck.com/story/1957

Just missed her.

https://homestuck.com/story/1993

Act 5 off to a great start, and while Karkat is in many ways a parallel to John (via their shared interests), right away, this action compares Karkat to Dave. Their reaction to being misnamed by the command prompt is pretty much identical.

https://homestuck.com/story/1994

Like I said, Karkat is pretty much immediately compared to John in terms of their shared interests, what with his Terrible Taste in Movies and his Amateur Coding.

One thing that stands out as endearing to me that I’ve probably not thought so much about before is Karkat’s practicing with his Sickle in his room. It reminds me of lightsaber wielding kids on early youtube.

https://homestuck.com/story/1995

So let’s break this and the next few pages down. Viewing the narration through the same James-Joycesque lens of “Narration is more or less identical with the characters’ thought processes,” that we have been so far, Karkat seems pretty ambivalent about existing as a troll, going as far as to describe his bad dreams as *terrible.*

Do all Trolls have dreams as bad as Karkat does? Is it a chucklevoodoos thing? Maybe it’s specifically a Karkat thing.

https://homestuck.com/story/1996

Karkat gets distracted instantly by intrusive thoughts and does something else that’s very Johnlike.

https://homestuck.com/story/1998

Aw c’mon. Early Sandler isn’t even that bad. Then again, it’s been a while since I’ve watched this one, maybe it’s worse than I remember it.

https://homestuck.com/story/1999

This section of the story is even more time-agnostic than the rest of the story, and a lot of it is told in past tense prospective action, which says to me that what we’re experiencing here is the various trolls on the meteor at the End of Act 4 collectively remembering what has taken place in the past, while the parts of this segment that are narrated in the present tense are being relayed to us via the characters in the narrative present (which is to say, the events which are being relayed to us in the panel.)

https://homestuck.com/story/2008

I wonder if Troll Will Smith is a Troll Scientologist?

https://homestuck.com/story/2010

I didn’t like the Trolls very much originally. They’re so ornery and pissy with each other all the time, with the exception of Gamzee and Tavros, but on a reread, especially keeping the things in mind that I’m keeping in mind, all of these characters are a lot more tolerable.

Using the cipher that we’ve established from reading the characters as basically attempting to perform what is culturally expected of them in the first four acts, we can immediately decode what is going on between Karkat and his friends - they are trying to be the best trolls they can be, or at least, live up to certain ideals/stereotypes the way that Dave tries to live up to the stereotype of the coolguy, or John emulates the mangrit and fatherliness and so on of his father figures.

But something is way *way* more wrong with Alternia’s role models than Earth’s.

That’s all from a Watsonian perspective. From a Doylist perspective, there are very explicit stereotypes each of these characters is designed around - commonplace annoying internet people from the ‘00s (pronounce that as Naughts).

https://homestuck.com/story/2012

There’s a lot of early installment weirdness in the first bits of Troll Stuff we get where it’s clear that Andrew was riffing and trying to find clear definitions for their relationships - it’s somewhat poorly known these days, I think, but Andrew has said in the past that he hates worldbuilding, and it kind of shows. (Did I mention that Kanaya Sollux friendship back when those two were interacting not long ago? That’s another one of those bits of early installment weirdness).

Anyway, the actual bit of early installment weirdness that I’m drawing attention to is the fact that the Subjugglators are described as being an Obscure Cult here, but later Homestuck Media (and even stuff within Homestuck, honestly) will make them out to be basically the only major aspect of being a Purple Blood.

https://homestuck.com/story/2013

Gamzee’s ignorance and his bliss are pretty much immediately linked to one another.

That said, I’m not going to dive too deep into Gamzee’s inner life. Like a lot of the trolls, in spite of his great relevance, he’s a bit of a joke character, and the joke is on us - whatever is going on inside this lad’s head is a puzzle for most of the comic.

Gamzee has a Freudian excuse in the form of his absent Lusus, which incidentally, is a parallel to Jade - the Nurture is the same, but the Nature is very differently. Unfortunately, when God was handing out Natures, he gave Gamzee one of the really bad ones, so he’s a worthless goddamn piece of shit.

https://homestuck.com/story/2024

Already into the first few troll conversations, and we’re setting up some stuff for later. Gamzee and Terezi’s very first conversation demonstrates the terrible chemistry that the two have together - Gamzee legitimately unsettles Terezi, and there’s just nothing at all she can do to bother him.

https://homestuck.com/story/2025

Sollux is probably so handy with this coding language because of his ability to hear the voices of the imminently deceased - so he can write programs that will execute along a pretty reasonable time frame.

https://homestuck.com/story/2027

Leader is a phrase that ends up being used in conjunction with Karkat a lot, and the concept of leadership is another one of those things that Homestuck Talks About but not a thing that Homestuck Is About, at least in the sense that leadership as a role is part of the comic’s broader commentary on cultural reproduction, the same way that Homestuck’s conversation about gender is, or Homestuck’s conversation about Roles in general.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Karkat wants to be a leader.

As long as Sollux is making his first appearance as a character, I want to take a second to say that as a character, he’s always been pretty tough and enigmatic for me to write, especially in the sense that he‘s frequently referred to melodramatic and sensitive or similar terms by people around him, but he actually doesn’t really seem that way in most cases - he just seems like a guy who wants to his own devices, and is generally pretty non-reactive to other peoples’ bullshit. Maybe he’s melodramatic in the way that Dave is, hyping himself up as a coolguy who is the best there is, but then again, Sollux kind of lives up to his own hype, considering that up until the last possible moment, he wins pretty much every fight he’s in handily, adapts Sburb personally, and has more romantic success than just about everyone else in the comic.

Maybe Karkat’s just projecting.

https://homestuck.com/story/2031

Roleplaying - a concept that I’ve used frequently to refer to the way that John and his chums perform rituals in order to relate to their culture and parents - is made explicit through the language of Flarping, which for the Trolls, serves as a way for them to literally act out the adventures of their long-dead ancestors, although it strikes me that it’s probably a lot more gainful for highbloods like Terezi and Vriska than it is in general for lowbloods like Aradia and Tavros.

I’ll get this out of the way up front instead of commenting it on a drip feed throughout Terezi’s upcoming courtblock roleplay - Terezi is the kind of kid who aspires to be a Cop. Or a lawyer, anyway, which in Alternian Law, is the same thing as a cop. In the wake of 2020′s scads of police brutality, and in general, having grown up into a nasty commie, it’s kind of hard to look at Terezi the same way.

While it’s clear that Terezi is remorseful later on toward her earlier attitudes and behaviors, Terezi is at least ambivalent, and at worst a purely antagonistic force throughout a lot of early Homestuck because of her authoritarian tendencies and her honestly pretty psychopathic behavior. She plays games with her friends’ lives.

https://homestuck.com/story/2047

Terezi adores having power over other people and making them helpless. For Terezi, alienation takes the form of emotional distance from the people that she’s tormenting. It makes it so much easier for her to conceive of them as wicked people who need to die.

https://homestuck.com/story/2055

Nepeta is an adorable girl who deserves all the good things. All of them.

That said, as long as we’re commentating and not glurging, Nepeta’s internet troll stereotype is probably less familiar these days, and I say probably less, but I can’t say for sure - it’s like this really specific thing that existed during the late ‘00s, where you had this highly specific stereotype, which I’ll call the Furry Artist Roleplayer, and I really hope that I’m not talking out of my ass by generalizing anecodtal evidence, but I know people who were pretty much exactly the Nepeta stereotype around the time that Act 5 was being written! Roleplaying in IRCs or on specialty forums with other people, all drawing art of their anthro OCs and writing stories about each other’s characters. That sort of thing still probably exists these days, but if it does, I’m not really part of any communities anymore where it leaks into the mainstream.

https://homestuck.com/story/2058

Okay, yup, Karkat is 100% projecting “Melodrama” on all the people around him. In a literal sense, Melodrama refers to theatrics that are exaggerated and sensationalized in such a way as to appeal to the emotions, often prioritizing spectacle and physical action over deep characterization.

Actually, if we’re taking it in the literal sense of the word, just about every character in Homestuck is pretty melodramatic - I keep talking about the way that they roleplay rituals and associate with symbols even when they fail to structures of power and culture that those rituals and symbols point to - performative participation without any actual substance. That’s practically the definition of Melodrama.

But Karkat is, perhaps, the most Melodramatic of all.

https://homestuck.com/story/2065

Aradia is one of my favorite characters in Homestuck, and possibly my favorite, something I can be up front about.

Our introduction to her is brief, and right out of the gate one thing about her is apparent - her relationship with destruction is central to her characterization.

https://homestuck.com/story/2069

While I was going to wait for the Hemospectrum to come up explicitly, now’s as good a time as any to talk about the fact that Andrew uses Troll society to comment on hierarchy a lot - hierarchy of just all kinds. Ageism is one of those, and Gerontocracy in particular in Alternia. In Alternia, just one of the ways that the oppression of the Hemospectrum manifests is the way that the Empire systematically takes advantage of its children by basically leaving them completely to their own devices. Trolls don’t have family units normally, but the fact that Troll adults are all offworld is not a “natural” part of Troll Society, it’s a decision. And while it’s a decision made by the Empress, it’s still one that, to some extent, benefits adult trolls at the expense of the children, since they’re not around spending energy on raising kids who are expected to raise themselves from the word go.

It’s honestly pretty late, and I’m tuckered out because of the steroids that I’m on, and the cough medicine, so in spite of the comparatively pretty short amount of reading I’ve done tonight, I’m going to call it here.

Cam signing off, Alive and a little High.

[justlookatthosesausages]

“Lift the Spirit” :: a post-Frozen 2 Elsamaren fanfic

Chapter 4: On the edge of the abyss

“You are… Going to fight with those?” Muttered Ryder. 

“Yep.” Smiled Anna with a proud pout. 

“Those are… Yours, Kristoff’s and Eydis’ weapons?” 

“Yep.” 

“Should I be concerned if you three ever get angry at me?” 

“...Yep?” 

They looked at each other, then burst out of laughter. 

“Come on”, giggled the Queen as he closed the chest. “It’s time to eat.”

He followed her to the spot where their extended family was relaxing, and Eydis was already serving lunch. 

Ryder sat happily between Anna and Honeymaren, who had Elsa on her lap. 

“Ahh, the powerful trio of the three strongest women of the country!” 

The referred women frowned in confusion. 

“Excuse me?”

The brown-haired man grinned. “Well, Maren is the tribe leader, Anna the Queen of Arendelle, and Elsa the guardian of Ahtohallan. So yeah, you three are the most amazing women I’ve ever met.” 

There was a silence, and they exchanged unsure gazes. 

Ryder blinked. “Unless one of you doesn’t identify with the term ‘woman’? It’s fine then, just ask me and I’ll change.” 

Anna chuckled at his kindness. “I think we’re good with the woman appellation.” 

He sighed. “Okay. Cool. Sorry for panicking. I’ve spent a lot of time with Olaf on last Yule, and he kept talking about genders and pronouns, and…” 

Honeymaren tapped his shoulder affectionately. “You’re doing great, Ryder. Here, take some soup before you have a cardiac arrest.” 

Anna and the brunette laughed openly, however Elsa remained quiet. 

Despite her blatantly essential duty, she couldn’t help but think that she was less important than Honeymaren and Anna, who had game-changing roles that required more leadership than her. Also, they had to manage people, while Elsa had to manage magical beings. Those were just as stubborn as humans, if not more, but at least Elsa could feel their emotions and presence anytime. All of their exchanges were sincere, transparent. There was no way to be lied to in such a relationship. With the Northuldra and Arendelle, on the other hand… Not that the blonde considered them fervent liars, far from it, but one could never know about a human’s real opinion. Elsa had been Queen for 3 years, and in that experience, she had learned that people - especially male politicians - weren’t always trustworthy. 

She got jolted out of her thoughts by Eydis heavily sitting down next to her, and the princess sighed longly. 

“There. I hope you will all like it.” Smiled the little blonde, despite a clear stress, to the Northuldra present around them. “Bone at the teeth.” 

They nodded, and Elsa chuckled discreetly. “It’s ‘bon appétit’.” She whispered to her ear. 

Eydis frowned. “Isn’t it what I said?” 

“Never mind.” Smiled her aunt. 

They all drank their soup in silent content, and it was quite good, which they didn’t miss to tell Eydis. 

The princess started to daydream, looking in the horizon at the beautiful landscape they could admire from here. She saw two Earth Giants smile at each other as they exchanged their positions, switching to watch over the Northuldra land and prevent any surprise attack. 

“Auntie?” 

Elsa stopped staring at Honeymaren to turn to her niece. “Yes?” 

“How does the Earth Spirit works? I just saw two Giants communicate with each other without even saying a word.” 

Elsa grinned, and followed her gaze. “That’s because they use magic, just like I do when I communicate with them. We could call that telepathy. The Giants even have a way faster system to talk between them, as they are parts of one and only Spirit.” 

Eydis nodded longly. “So, it’s like a hive mind?” 

The blonde smiled at her cleverness. “Yes, exactly. Well, I’d say more like… An archipel. Because the Giants are like the visible islands on the surface, who actually are connected to each other in one and only land underneath.” 

Anna snorted. “You spend way too much time with Nokk. Water metaphors are heavy.” 

Honeymaren intervened as well. “Nah, that’s just Elsa. She’s a bookworm and her metaphors are constant.” 

“Uhm, I’m sitting right here.” 

She indeed was on her lap, and the brunette held her closer for cuddles, proving that this was just tease.  

“Anyway”, Elsa said, turning to the Giant who was guarding the place they were looking at on the horizon. “That’s Pebble.” 

Anna laughed openly. “Oh gosh, sorry, but… Damn, the names you give them. See? That’s the proof you spend too much time in the water.” 

“No, that’s the proof that he spends too much time with Nokk. They keep playing together. And in fact…” 

She closed her eyes and frowned slightly as she focused, tying a mental bond with the Giant despite the long distance. Eydis watched as the magical being named Pebble turned a bit to their direction, like he got called. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Chuckled Elsa as she opened her eyes again. “He was hanging with Nokk before arriving for his shift.”  

“That’s cute.” Commented Honeymaren, though the Snow Queen couldn’t tell if she was referring to the Spirits being good friends or to Elsa casually sharing a mind connection with a 12-meter tall being. 

“Hey, Maren, speaking about bookworms, did you read the novel I gave you on last Yule?” Asked Anna. 

“No, not yet. But it’s in the hut. On the nightstand, actually.” 

Kristoff snorted at his wife’s intentions. “Are you turning the camp into a book club?” 

The redhead laughed. “No. And no mockery! You know that the times I go to the Arendelle library on Wednesday nights are the only time of the week when I’m leaving you at peace.” 

Kristoff smiled. “I love hearing you rambling about your recent readings on Thursday breakfasts, though.” 

The Queen grinned lovingly. 

Elsa was happy to see that Anna had made friends with townspeople. Arendellians were very open minded and knew how to forget that she was their sovereign to casually chat about novels with her in a public building. 

“So, Honeymaren, are you going to join the book club once you’ve read her novel recommendation?” Laughed Kristoff.

“Oh, no, it’s not really my kind of thing anyway. I’m not much into reading.” 

“Wait, what?” Frowned the redhead. “But you’ve finished several novels I told you about though.” 

“I know. It’s because Elsa is the one reading them. She reads them aloud to me at night. I can’t resist it, she has the softest voice in the world.” 

“Aaaaawwwww.” Melted Anna. 

Elsa blushed, a bit pouty. That was a private habit… 

“She does have a soft voice.” Admitted the redhead. “The kids want her to read a bedtime story everytime they can. Well, Isak at least. Eydis says she’s too old for stories now.” 

She gave a look at her daughter behind Honeymaren and Elsa, and the young blonde grumbled. 

“Though, the other night, she was listening to the one we told her brother. You’re still a fan, aren’t you?” 

“Mooom!” Frowned Eydis, grumpy. 

“Who wouldn’t be a fan of stories? You know, I’m certain that even animals love stories. You should see when we talk around the campfire. It’s like the entire Forest stops living to listen carefully.” 

She even remembered the occasions when Elsa talks about her day to the reindeers, and the same phenomenon happens every time: rabbits, birds and squirrels gather near to listen to her from behind the bushes. Nevertheless, Honeymaren refrained herself to share this enchanting trivia with the others, because she realized that her wife was tense since she had talked about the reading sessions. She caressed Elsa’s back gently, and kissed her bare shoulder. The blonde looked down at her, and their eyes met. She gave her a forgiving sigh, but her azure blue irises sparkled as a warning. Honeymaren grinned, her lips stretching but still in contact with her skin. 

They finished eating happily, until Anna stood up and slapped her thighs in both determination and excitement. “Alright! Let’s go scout around the camp.” 

Kristoff blinked. “Can’t we take a nap first?” 

“Heroes don’t nap.” Huffed the redhead. 

Honeymaren giggled. “She’s kind of right. Also, I’m not saying we should tempt the devil, but if we walk around, it will give the possibility for Victor to attack, and we’ll catch him at his own game.” 

They agreed and stood up along. “We’ll make two teams. I’ll go with Eydis and Elsa down the valley.” Suggested the Northuldra leader. “You two, with Ryder, across the woods.” 

“Excellent.” Beamed Anna. 

As they parted ways, she walked up to Honeymaren. “I trust you earnestly, but please make sure that Eydis is safe.” 

“Don’t worry.” Assured Honeymaren, winking. “I’m responsible.” 

Elsa scoffed sarcastically. 

“What?” Frowned the brunette. 

“The very first thing you taught my niece was to climb to trees, and how to hang up upside down with her legs without falling.” 

Honeymaren gasped. “And isn’t that a practical thing she still uses today? That she could use in this very battle? It is, so stop staring at me like that.” 

The two sisters eye-rolled. Eydis intervened to defend her aunt. 

“I still thank you for that, actually. It’s not the kind of thing I’d learn from a princess royal training routine.” 

“See?” Flinged Honeymaren. 

“Eydis, you’re not helping right now.” Said Anna. 

“I will keep an eye on your daughter, fire head. I promise.” 

The princess turned at the nickname. “Hey, by the way, why do you call her ‘fire head’?” 

Elsa giggled. “Because when she met your mother, it was the first time she ever saw someone with ginger hair. Nobody in the Northuldra tribe has such a hair color, you see?” 

“Oooh.” 

“This isn’t the only reason.” Precised Honeymaren. “When I have fight practice with Anna, her face gets all red from the effort.” 

“My face doesn’t get all red. My cheeks are like, slightly more red than usual, at most. If you tease me one more time with that, Maren, I swear that we’ll have a training session right now and it will get very real.” 

Ryder laughed behind them. “Liar. You secretly love that nickname. Because it sounds like a war title.” 

Anna shrugged in admission, and Eydis grinned. It did have a ring to it. 

She also noted how Ryder, Anna and Kristoff called Honeymaren ‘Maren’, while Elsa went for ‘Honey’. This family was really weird. She sighed. 

“Shall we go, then?” 

=======

“I just want to be a cooler uncle than Honeymaren to Eydis.” Insisted Ryder. 

He never had gotten the chance to talk about that topic, because his niece was always around when he saw Anna and Kristoff in Arendelle. Now that they were in separate teams, it was the perfect time. 

“Just tell me how!” 

Kristoff laughed openly at his struggle. “It’s not something that we can advise you on, my friend. You’ll have to trust your instincts on that.” 

“You know, the coolest aunt badge is already taken by Elsa.” Giggled Anna, sarcastic. 

“Figuratively and literally.” Grinned the blond. 

Ryder gave them a death stare as they all walked among the trees. “Can’t you help me instead of being sassy?” 

Kristoff shrugged. “To be honest, Eydis is starting her teenager crisis years. So anything that we adults say to her is never ‘cool’ enough. She’s a bit indifferent to Elsa’s powers now.” 

Ryder widened his eyes in shock. If she found the Fifth Spirit mundane, how could he ever compete? 

Cogs turned in his mind as he thought of something. 

“Having a digestive walk in the Northuldra woods, your Majesty?” 

Suddenly said a voice behind them, and all three startled and turned around. 

Someone was approaching, at a low and assured pace. It was a man, given his silhouette, and he seemed old, but also fit, like a retired guard. 

“Are the Arendelle’s castle gardens too small for your taste? Not that you belong there anyway…” Said the mysterious man in a low voice.   

He was wearing a dark purple cape, almost black. As he walked to them, and they were standing still, he took off the hood. Now they could see his face, that he didn’t plan to hide; Victor Eiglatson in person was standing in front of them. 

“You…” Frowned Anna. 

In her mind flashed images of his threats, his arrestation, his assaults described by Kristoff, Honeymaren, Elsa and the Northuldra, and, more importantly, the two innocent men who had died after his first attack. 

“You will pay for what you have done!” Shouted Ryder, and he approached the old Arendellian. 

Victor flicked his right wrist up to down in the Northuldra’s direction, and a dark slime blow hit his head from above. In a swift shock, the man groaned and fainted, falling head first in the grass. 

“RYDER!!” Exclaimed Anna. 

She then twirled to the enemy, her long red hair waving with her like a mane. 

“I’ll have you killed for that!!” 

Victor eye-rolled. “Calm down, Queenie. He’s only unconscious. I’m not gonna waste my magic on some random guy. You, on the other hand…” 

Kristoff followed his gaze. He was strictly staring at Anna. 

“Why are you interested in me?” Hissed the woman in question. 

“That’s really obvious. You’re the Fifth Spirit’s biggest weakness. I’ll have her at my feet once I’m done with you.” 

Anna frowned at his plan. She also wondered why he didn’t call her Elsa, but pushed that thought away to focus on clenching her fists. 

“Well I’ll beat you up, you old--” 

Kristoff’s arm stopped her in her momentum. She was strong, but he was even more muscular, so he easily held her in place. 

“You’ll have to go through me first.” He threatened. 

Victor didn’t even flinch at his sentence. “That can be arranged.” 

He flipped his wrists, and a burst of dark slime spluttered out of his palms. Two liquid monsters formed on each side of him, and started running to them. He cackled like a maniac as they immediately ran for their lives before the creatures touched them with their long crooked fingers. 

Kristoff was dragging Anna along his run, but soon understood that there was no need; she was even faster than him. 

He gave a peak behind to check if there were safe, and saw to his biggest fright that the arm of the closest creature changed of form. When the goo assembled at the end of its fingers and solidified in the shape of a long blade, Kristoff’s heart leaped. 

“WATCH OUT!” 

He tackled Anna, and they rolled in the grass to dodge away from the attack. They stumbled to stand up, and he stared at the monster which had its blade planted to where they had been standing, now struggling to take it off. So it was solid. 

Since when could they do that? Did they evolve? Did Victor learn from his past mistakes? Was he able to upgrade his creations, just like Elsa did? He gulped in apprehension. 

The second creature quickly made him come back to reality; it used the same technique, but with both arms. Two black slimy blades cut through the air, whistling in the woods, and the two Arendellians jumped back to avoid being sliced in half. 

They hadn’t plan this walk correctly, and Kristoff looked around to search for anything that could be used to repel the enemies.  

The King then saw a trunk on the ground next to them, and he ran to it. He quickly valued his actions: he could use a fallen tree, right? He wouldn’t disrespect Nature, for this was a dead tree anyway. Kristoff nodded to himself and put his right foot on the trunk, then grasped with both hand the thickest of its branches. It was so wide his thumbs didn’t even touch his fingertips, but he managed to pull and pluck it out with a loud grunt. 

Immediately, he twirled around and started to swung the branch in the direction of the creature. 

He could effectively stop the left blade of the creature, but it got stuck in the wood, which surprised both him and the monster. It didn’t wait for another blow, though, and made its second blade sing in the air, aiming right at his throat. Kristoff frowned, and thought faster than light; he grabbed his stick with his hands in reverse order, and moved it towards the creature’s elbow moving in his direction. In a swift shift, the monster accidentally planted its blade in its other arm. Looking a bit dumb now, it had both arms tied together, and Kristoff pushed its body with a strong blow of the branch. 

The monster fell on the ground. It then was confused on how to stand up now, with its arms like that, and it looked like it was punished and sitting with handcuffs on. 

Anna grinned at the state of the enemy, and when Kristoff turned around, panting, his happy brown eyes suddenly widened in terror. 

“What?” Said the redhead. 

“Duck!!” 

In any other context, Anna would have allowed herself a joke about the animal. Now wasn’t the time. She shrieked, curling down, and Kristoff jumped above her crouched body to slam the head of the monster who was about to spike his wife. 

The racquetball-like move was given with all his strength, and the creature was stunned, losing its balance and falling backwards. Anna stood up slowly, looking at the two outperformed monsters. She breathed out with a gasp at the shock to have been close to death, and stared at Kristoff from head to toes. She made a pause to admire his muscles glistening with sweat, and his intense stare due to adrenalin. 

“Gods I love you.” Sighed Anna, staring at him with arousal. 

They stared at each other, and walked the meters separating them with their gaze lost in the ocean of the other’s, like the entire world had ceased to exist around them. 

The approaching steps of the enemy brought them out of their reverie. Victor clapped his hands slowly with sarcasm. “Waow, truly effective, your Majesty. But you’re aware that you can’t beat them, right?” 

He snapped his fingers, and the stunned creature toddled up, standing up again, while the other saw its arms vanish, then be created again. It went on its feet too. 

Kristoff twirled his thick branch around, ready for round two. However, it now was covered with black magic ink, so he dropped it in a disgusted wince before he would get infected. 

The Queen whinged at how they now were defenseless again. 

“Why didn’t we take the weapons we brought?!” She exclaimed, blaming herself. “I’m so stupid, stupid, stupid!” 

“Now is not the time for self-undervaluation, feisty.” 

Anna grumbled, for he was right. She immediately placed her hands on each side of her mouth, lifted her head and sang the Spirits Call, as loudly and clear as she could. It rang in the woods and filled the air. 

Victor burst out of laughter. 

“What are you trying to do, nightingale? The Spirits cannot interact with my magic. Those are basic Nature rules.” 

Anna gave him a side look that was overcharged with sarcasm. “I’m aware. Elsa, however, received Ahtohallan’s blessing. You’re screwed, Eiglatson.” 

He shivered at her confident teal blue eyes. She wasn’t bluffing. 

The old man looked around frantically, now fearing the worst. They had split up in groups, but Elsa could arrive in no time. He gritted his teeth and made his creations disappear with a hand flick. 

“You’ll regret this. Deeply. Next time, I’ll have no pity.” 

He stared at Kristoff and his wife, and turned around, running away. The blond frowned, not agreeing to let him escape. He ran after him, following his dark cape floating in his move, dashing through the woods. The King followed the man for a long time until the cape suddenly vanished, like it was made of the same goo than the monsters. 

“Shit.” He muttered. 

He had been fooled. This was an illusion. He grunted loudly, and punched the nearest tree in disappointment. 

Anna helped Ryder stand up, and looked at where her husband had been running, wondering if he had managed to catch him. Though, she thought, Victor had magic, and if he was as skilled at Elsa, he would be able to disappear without a trace if he didn’t want to be followed. She knew how effective that was. 

“Did he hurt your head?” Worried the Queen. “Did your skin get touched by it?” 

“No, I’m okay. I had my hat on, thankfully. I knew that it would save my life one day.” Chuckled the Northuldra nervously. 

Ryder retrieved his balance, when suddenly something blurry and white arrived at high speed right next to him, and he shrieked with a jump. 

“ANNA!” 

The blonde grasped her sister’s arms in less time that it took him to blink. 

“Are you okay?! What happened? Why did you call?!” 

Before Anna could even answer, Elsa counted only two persons out of three, and inspected the woods. “Where is Kristoff?!” 

Gale arrived in a woosh, and made a noise, looking down at Elsa. Kristoff was okay, they said, but angry because he couldn’t catch the enemy in time. 

“I’m fine, Elsa.” Assured the Queen. 

“Okay, good. Good.” 

“Can you please put me down now?” 

The Snow Queen blinked in confusion and realized, in her panic, that she had been holding Anna by the arms like a clamp. The younger sister was stuck in her grip with her arms rigid along her body, her legs hanging in the air. 

“Oh, sorry.” 

She put Anna on the ground, and the redhead smiled sadly. She took Elsa’s hands in hers. “Breathe. It’s okay. He’s gone now.” 

“But I couldn’t catch him!” Hissed Elsa, upset. 

“I know.” 

“Now we know how he looks like, and his fighting style.” Said Ryder, angry as well, so he switched his mind to an analysing mode. “Anna, tell me everything that had happened while I was unconscious. I’ll inform the warriors, and we’ll prepare.” 

“Yes.” Encouraged Anna. “And this time, we will have our weapons at the ready.” 

She put her hands on her elder’s cold shoulders, resolutely. 

“Elsa, our next encounter with him will be the last. I vow to it.” 

=======

Anna cracked her knuckles once they all gathered in the armory hut. 

“Okay. Briefing the Northuldra, check. Updating their positions, check. Ours, check. Now…” 

She rubbed her hands excitedly, and Elsa lifted an amused eyebrow when she recognized where she saw that expression. 

“...Weaponry.” 

With an excited - and a bit evil and scary - laugh, she opened the chest that they had brought on their wagon. 

“Isn’t it a weird that a Queen who swears to be a pacifist and to never lead her kingdom to war is this thrilled about a battle?” Mocked Honeymaren. 

“That’s because you haven’t seen my armor.” Winked Anna. “Also, a lady got to be busy. My hobbies include fight, what can I say?” 

She opened the chest wide for everyone to observe, and took out weapons one by one. 

To Kristoff, she gave his axe, and it shone in the soft light of the hut, its cheek and blade bright blue. The whole head that was normally made of the finest Arendelle metal had been crafted in ice, and could only had been done by one person. Elsa smiled proudly and admiratively, as her work of art got enhanced by the sun rays and floating dust that surrounded the weapon when Kristoff happily made it twirl. 

“Perfectly balanced. As always.” He winked to the Snow Queen. 

Elsa blushed. They bantered a lot about ice, and spend a considerable time talking about harvesting and such, but when he complimented her unique customizations, she felt a bit shy. But she deserved that praise; she had spent a lot of time on crafting the ideal addition for their weapons. She smiled bashfully and nodded, approving that her ice blade married perfectly with the wood haft. Victor’s monsters could be killed by her ice? Let it be so. But with some elegance, please. 

Elsa’s eyes looked down at the grip that had Arendelle crocuses engraved on it, while Kristoff held the axe with both hands to inspect it. The blonde then congratulated herself on the density of the ice, which she could feel in the air from where she was standing. The back of the head, that had a hammer poll, looked more solid than anything despite its transparency. Since Ryder had laid eyes on the axe when Anna had showed it to him before meal, he couldn’t help imagining how Earth Giants themselves would be groggy if they got hit in the face with it. 

Anna smiled and bent down again to pick up the next weapon. To Eydis, she gave her mace, whose numerous spikes shone so well that they seemed like sparks. Magically sharp, actually even sharper than razors, the blades glittered in the same way than Kristoff’s axe head, with a beautiful transparency that also scared by its density. Eydis’ mace had a classical grip, but all eyes were obviously staring at the top of it; it alternated between a blade and a spike, making it a fearsome item. 

Honeymaren grinned. “So, your weapon of choice is a mace, uh? That’s a nice nod.” 

“A nice nod?” Repeated Eydis. “To what?” 

“Well, with what happened with Thor years ago. Did you pick this one because you’re at ease with hammers?” 

The princess snorted. “Maybe. It’s handy in every meaning of the term.” 

Just like her father, she spun the weapon in all ways once Anna gave it to her. She hit the air around in several expert ‘woosh’s, practicing her moves. 

“I like the way it feels during fight.” Grinned Eydis. 

Ryder widened his eyes at the sight. Yep, she was her mother’s daughter. However, when he saw the careful gaze that Anna was giving her, he could tell that Kristoff was definitely the one who approved on this mace. Nevertheless, Ryder would bet that Anna simply sighed and shrugged when Eydis asked for permission to make this her weapon. 

The Queen returned to the chest. 

Finally, she took the last weapon, hers, which was to no one’s surprise but to everyone’s honest impression, an enormous sword. 

While the Northuldra siblings gasped in admiration, Kristoff sighed longly. “You had to bring your biggest sword, uh?” 

“After seeing Victor Eiglatson earlier, I absolutely don’t regret it, dear.” 

Honeymaren’s jaw dropped, and she came closer to observe it. Anna made quite a show when she tried it out. Obviously, the whole blade was made out of ice as well. Elsa smirked from where she was. It shone around as Anna wielded it, and even reflected on the wood walls of the hut. It was, out of the three weapons, the one with the biggest amount of ice, so it made a great impression.  

Honeymaren was impressed as always by the beauty of her wife’s magic. Though, despite all of that, what impressed her the most was how effortlessly Anna was lifting the sword. It was an impressive work of art that surely weighed more than Honeymaren would even expect. How the heck did she make it seem effortless? 

Eydis gasped excitedly. “Awesome! I never got to see this one close before!” 

When Anna put it down against the wall of the armory hut to look for their battle outfits, the princess eyed the sword with envy, walking to it. 

“Can I borrow it to try it out? With auntie’s ice blade, it’s gorgeous.” 

Anna turned around and was about to give her answer, but Eydis, in her iconic nerve, already lifted the sword up. She rose it to see the cross-guard closer, but the blade was way heavier than she thought, and the weapon tilted. With a yelp, she lost her grip, and the sword fell forward to the floor. 

“Holy hell!” Muttered the princess. 

Anna smirked as she caught it. “I was about to suggest you to not lift it. This sword can’t be wielded by anyone, sweetheart. There is a reason why Elsa custom-made it for me.”

She approached her astonished daughter. “Only I am able to use it. It actually took a lot of training to master my moves. Also, see how long that grip is?” 

“Yeah, it’s longer than any sword I’ve ever seen.” Murmured Eydis. 

“That’s because it’s a two-handed sword. You lifted it with only one, so it was a foregone conclusion.” Smiled Anna. 

She placed it back against the wall. 

“So you put both hands on the grip?” Asked Eydis, curiosity and enthusiasm making her voice high.  

“It depends on the move or feint you intend to make. Most of times, I place one hand on the grip…” She showed it to her. “And the second one on the pommel.” 

Her hands now covered the pine green grip and the pommel proudly engraved with the Arendelle crocus. With its green hilt and its purple round hilt end in each hand, it gave the Queen an astonishing aura by reminding the flag’s colors. She demonstrated the easy twirls that this two hands position allowed to do. 

“It’s the most beautiful sword I’ve ever seen.” Exhaled Honeymaren, in awe. 

Anna smirked proudly while Elsa blushed with a soft smile. 

“Elsa made it entirely for me.” 

As if the entire ice blade wasn’t enough of a hint, the rain-guard - which, just like the grip, was made of high quality leather dyed green - had a embedded snowflake symbol. It was the upper half of the snowflake, and it gave the feeling that it introduced the upcoming blade to sight when one observed the stunning weapon. The scabbard, which Anna had discarded next to the chest after she proudly made the sword sing by taking it off, was breathtaking as well. All along were traced drawings that seemed to have been made by both Elsa and Anna. Honeymaren wondered if they had been crafting it together, and easily imagined them giggling as they did in a warm sharing moment. 

“Why a two-handed sword, though?” Asked Ryder. 

“I suggested it to her since that stubborn idiot refuses to use a shield.” Smirked Elsa. 

“A really good suggestion.” Said Anna, who preferred to ignore the derision. 

They went out of the hut for Ryder to show them the staff that he would be using. None of the Arendellians commented negatively on how simple his weapon was compared to them. First because they were nice and enough open-minded to not judge ahead, and second because all three of them actually knew the aching pain that followed a hit in the shins. Ryder didn’t train often, but had won a few rounds thanks to that. From what they had seen, Victor Eiglatson wasn’t wearing any armor, and that might even be the blow that would take him down. After all, the most effective attack is the one one doesn’t expect, and Ryder was an expert at sliding down to hit weak spots. 

While they were outside and Elsa and Honeymaren started to chat a bit further, Eydis came close to her mother. 

“Will auntie be okay? During the fight?” 

Anna frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, I’ve never seen her truly be mean in her blows. She’s not very direct. She’s a bit scared to be offensive, no?” 

The redhead blinked as she stared at Eydis, then suddenly laughed loudly, her head wiping back. “Oh dear, you truly have no idea, do you?” 

“What?” Grumbled the princess. 

Anna coughed as she tried to retrieve her breath. “Yeah. Right. Sorry. You can’t know, because Arendelle and Northuldra have both always known peace since you were born. So you’ve never seen her actually fight.”

Eydis was upset by her mother’s giggles. “What is so funny?” 

The Queen smiled. “Let me search for an example… Well, you have a big snowball fight with her at every Yule, uhm? Remember last year when you asked her to stop holding herself back, to have an actual challenge, and you came back to the castle exhausted?” 

Eydis scoffed. “It’s not that amazing, I remember I got to touch her once or twice with a snowball.” 

Anna smirked. “Because it was a game. Now imagine what she does when it’s a fight. Did you see Elsa pick up snow from the ground when she, for once, didn’t force herself to slow down?” 

The little blonde widened her eyes at that realization. Elsa had been crafting those snowballs out of thin air. “No.” 

“Did you see her being out of breath, just for one second?” 

Now Eydis gulped. She had been able to hit her aunt several times, but was panting once the game was over. On the other hand, her aunt was perfectly fine. 

The princess got suddenly aware that she had been fooled all along. Elsa had only pretended to be hit to make her happy. How dumb was she to not have understood this before? Her aunt was astonishingly athletic, she knew it. Once, she had seen her race with Nokk on the fjord shore and she had been running faster than them. And they have the shape of a horse. 

Eydis’ jaw dropped. “Okay, now that is just creepy.” 

Anna nodded with a smirk. “You don’t have to worry any second of her abilities on a battlefield. She could kill us all in our sleep, trust me.” 

Kristoff approached to put a hand on Anna’s shoulder and a kiss on her cheek. 

“I’m gonna go train with Ryder, we’ll see you later.” 

He was happy for such a context, and his wife snorted. “Don’t wear yourself out. It’s better if you’re in good shape for the upcoming fight. Be careful, okay?” 

The blond man smiled at her care. “I will.” 

He followed Ryder to the training area, and not even two full seconds later, he tripped over a root, and almost fell to the ground. 

Eydis burst out of laughter as her father grumbled. Anna remained serious to not make him feel ashamed. 

“Damn, I lost my ice harvesters reflexes.” 

“Too many king activities?” Teased Ryder. 

“If you want, I can show you how to use an axe again.” Laughed Eydis. 

“Don’t mock me, you two!” 

Eydis bit her lip to hide her smile. 

“Sorry. Well, I’m not gonna lie, you taught me all I know about resourcefulness in the wild and how to be an ace at ice harvesting. So I can’t demean you.” 

Kristoff gave her a smile, then rejoined Ryder. 

Anna went to Honeymaren and Elsa, where the brunette was preparing her bow for the battle. 

She was intrigued when she approached the leader. 

“Wait, don’t you usually have a bigger bow? Where’s the one you hunt with?” 

Honeymaren smirked. “Judging on sizes, your Majesty?” 

Anna snorted. “Of course not.” 

The Northuldra made the bow twirl left to right and back with her hand on the grip. “This bow is a warrior one, that’s why the size is different.” 

“Uhm, excuse me, a what? As much as I love this name, I’m confused. Why ‘warrior’?” 

The brunette smiled. “It’s the type of bow. You know, they come in all shapes and sizes, just like people…” 

“Stop with the tease, dummy.” 

She got a smirk in return. “The one you see me use during hunt is a long bow. Very long, in fact. It’s optimized for stealth, with a light wood and silencers on the string to be as discreet as possible. We also craft them that long because we use them from a very far distance. With those features, we do not frighten the animals, and therefore are respectful of Nature. We have a more tender meat as their death was quick and without fear.” 

Anna gulped at the powerful statements. 

“This one...”, said Honeymaren, lifting the bow she was holding. “Is quite exactly its opposite. Notice how its wood is way shorter and curved three times, even at the tips. It’s optimized for fighting. I’m not a fan of what it represents and the context it’s used in, but it’s very effective. As we stand closer to the target, we don’t need a long bow, and this size allows faster recharge.” 

“A bow for warriors on the battlefield…” 

“Yes. Its unique asset is its main default, however. As we can’t draw the bow very much because it’s shorter than the usual, it only is for close range.” 

Anna blinked, retrieving from those incredible details. She then smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you a window to shoot.” 

“I count on it.” Smirked the brunette. 

She went to pick up new material in the craft shed to change the grip of the bow and make it brand new. On her way, she passed by Eydis, who was staring at the stunning collection of bows all hand-crafted by the tribe. 

“You don’t have those bows in Arendelle, uh?” Grinned the proud leader. 

Eydis puffed. “Even if I did, I can’t buy a single thing in the kingdom without thinking of mother, anyway.” 

“What, she scolds you when you buy useless things? A bow is far from being useless.” 

“No, because there’s her face on every coin.” Snorted the princess. 

They both laughed. 

“She never scolds me for anything I buy. I could ask a chocolatier for my weight in candies and she would even encourage it.” 

They laughed again. 

She saw that Honeymaren had sit down at a table to extend a band of leather and cut the parts she needed. She would be using the dagger she had at her waist, and that all adult Northuldra were wearing constantly, for how multifunction it was a for a people living in the wild. 

“Hey, could you do the trick again?” 

Honeymaren, who was about to simply take the dagger of its sheath and casually use it, smirked. She untied the leather pouch, twirled it in the air, then placed her wrist under it to make it spin around, and took out the dagger with expertise and elegance. The whole movement had been smooth, and Eydis’ eyes sparkled. 

“Never gets old.” 

Honeymaren waved her eyebrows and turned the knife between her fingers before getting to work. 

A few minutes passed, and Eydis admired all the weaponry. Several ice arrows were on a table near the wall, and she approached her hand.  

“Waow, those are superb. Look at the very precise and intricate heads…” 

“Don’t touch that!” Exclaimed Honeymaren, rushing to her niece. 

Eydis’ admirative eyes switched to angry ones. “Damnit! Why can’t I touch anything?!” 

“Language.” Scolded Anna from afar. 

“Sorry, Eydis.” Said the Northuldra leader with a pout. “Those are extremely sharp. Elsa upgraded them since the last time I used them, and even myself have to be very careful when handling them.” 

She slowly placed them back in her quiver, and wondered why she had been leaving them there. Northuldra children could have hurt themselves… When they joined a whole stack of others in her quiver, she realized that in fact, Elsa had been crafting new ones after their meal. 

She admired her wife’s dedication and work on their weapons. Each of them had been enhanced with Elsa’s unbreakable ice. Their efficiency against the monster would be unprecedented. Even Ryder’s staff was covered with a thin layer of ice to strengthen it, keeping the traditional way of fighting. 

When Elsa had announced that she would be using a spear entirely made out of ice, and she had crafted it under their eyes, Honeymaren’s knees had almost buckled at the flashing image of how attractive her wife would be when she would fight with it. The spear was blue - obviously -  and had - as usual - intricate details, for Elsa couldn’t help being extra. The shaft had all the colors of the Spirits spreaded on it, with the four diamond shapes and their symbols proudly displayed along. The head of the spear wasn’t the classical one but a four pronged trident, inspired by the four Spirits’ harmony. The blades were long and placed facing each other two by two, forming a round cross and looking like the cardinal points. Anna had made the remark that if she crafted this quadrident spear while on Nokk, she would look like Poseidon, but Honeymaren didn’t get the reference. 

The odds for the fight were really good. Honeymaren smiled proudly and positively when the two sisters joined them. 

“With Elsa’s expertise, we will defeat Eiglatson in no time.” 

Anna wanted to support her positivity, but she shivered. “‘Next time, I’ll have no pity’, he said. I just hope that we will be strong enough. May the gods be on our side.” 

Elsa nodded, then suddenly widened her eyes. It was like she had remembered or realized something out of nowhere. 

“We will be prepared, Anna, don’t worry.” Assured Honeymaren with a firm leader voice. 

They all agreed. Anna suggested to help Honeymaren refine the Northuldra warriors’ strategy, and Eydis to sharpen their weapons. 

Elsa was the only one not to move, and she remained oddly silent, staring down. 

Anna turned to her, and lifted an eyebrow, about to ask what was wrong. 

“I need to take a moment alone before the fight.” Said the blonde, forcing herself to smile. “I’ll take a break in Ahtohallan.” 

Her sister nodded. Elsa certainly needed to recharge in every meaning of the term; as an introvert with a bubble of calm, and a magical being with the ancient glacier. She had noted long ago how better the Snow Queen’s mood was after meditating in the magical source. 

Honeymaren watched her lover go, slightly suspicious. But she shrugged and walked with Anna to the hut where they had spreaded a giant map on a table. 

“Okay… Strategy thinking…” Mumbled the redhead, and Honeymaren got amused by her pout. “Maren, do you consider yourself lucky?”

The Northuldra leader snorted. “Well, I got to marry a Spirit who also is the most beautiful woman in the world, so… I certainly am.” 

Anna eye-rolled comically. “I meant, if we make a back-up plan based on chance, would that be in your favor or not?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

The Queen stared at Honeymaren, because now she had been silent, and the distance separating them from the hut was long, so that would soon be awkward between them. Anna noticed that the brunette was fidgeting with something on her left hand, but didn’t get to ask. 

“You must think that I’m a hopeless romantic, uh?” 

Anna smiled. “No, not at all. I mean, yes, you really are, but I don’t mind it, if it’s what you’re afraid of. I find your couple adorable. And you know already how Elsa’s happiness deeply matters to me, so to know that she’s living a perfect married life with you fills my heart with joy.” 

Honeymaren smiled. “I’m the thankful one, I swear. You know, she changed my whole world.” 

She rose her hands, showing the woods surrounding them. “First, by freeing the Forest, and then, by teaching me on her first night in the camp that constellations had names. It was barely hours after I discovered the existence of stars. Imagine how overwhelming that was.” 

“I easily do.” Grinned Anna. “She’s a real nerd. I’ve known her for such a long time - I can’t say my whole life, that would be lying - and she still teaches me stuff about science and physics. It’s crazy coming from someone who also defies those laws with magic.” 

Honeymaren chuckled tenderly. 

“Once, she crafted a sextant for a little girl in the village.” Continued the redhead. 

“A sex… What?” 

Anna burst of laughter. 

“It has nothing to do with sex. It’s a navigation tool, based on the position of stars.” 

“Oh, I see. Old Northuldra told me that our people used to watch the stars to find their way.” 

“All people used to.” Smiled Anna wisely. 

Honeymaren nodded. It was also true figuratively. Elsa was the brightest star that ever shone to her eyes. She could follow her everywhere, like her true north. The brunette fidgeted with her ice ring again at the image of her wife giggling when she ran after her stunning figure in the fields, and Elsa turning around with a smile that warmed her heart like nothing else did. 

“Mareeeeen…” Called Anna’s voice, probably not for the first time, and finally succeeding in bringing her back to Earth. 

“Oh, sorry, you were saying?” 

When she turned to the redhead, she was smirking. “Uhm, correct me if I’m wrong, but the hut is that way, no?” She said, pointing the other way.

Honeymaren blinked and look at where she was heading. Three more steps and she would bump head first into a tree. 

“Y-yes, yes, I was… I’m coming.” 

She cleared her throat, and followed her smiling sister-in-law to where she was supposed to go. 

=======

When they went out of the hut more than two hours later, Anna stretched next to Honeymaren, then she suddenly heard a neigh in the distance. 

She saw a familiar horse, gleaming between the trees, and trotting through the camp in their direction. 

“Oh, hi Nokk!” Smiled Anna, waving. “What are you doing here? Isn’t Elsa with you?” 

She then saw that someone was on their back, but not seated like they rode them; that person had been picked up and transported. 

Nokk stopped walking in the middle of the camp, about twenty meters away from them. Honeymaren’s eyes widened at the platinum blonde hair of the of woman. 

“Elsa?!” 

The blonde groaned, shook her head and massaged her forehead. She forced herself to sit up, but she clearly had difficulties. 

“Elsa, are you okay?!” Panicked Anna, staring at the blonde. 

Nokk neighed loudly. 

“I’m fine.” Murmured Elsa, getting down from the Water Spirit with as much composure as she could. 

Nokk neighed again, insistent. 

“Okay, I may not be.” Muttered the Snow Queen, and only the horse could hear that. 

She let go of Nokk’s neck and lurched along the path. Anna and Honeymaren had come close, sensing that something was wrong. 

“Elsa, you’re usually pale, but now you’re white as a sheet. What happened?” Worried her sister. 

“Do you need help to walk?” 

“I can walk, it’s okay…” 

Honeymaren didn’t insist, noticing how stubborn Elsa was. However, as her and Anna gave way for her to walk through the camp, her knees suddenly buckled. 

“Elsa!!” 

She collapsed to the ground, and Honeymaren rushed to catch her. The blonde fainted in her arms, her head dropping back, and Honeymaren lifted it up. 

“ELSA!!” Screamed the brunette a second time, starting at her lover’s face with alarmed wide eyes. 

She shook Elsa’s body desperately. She pressed her ear to her chest to hear if her heart was beating, but her own heart was beating so fast that she couldn’t focus on the right sound. To make it even worse, Anna had fallen to her knees next to her and was breathing faster and louder each passing second, inspecting her elder’s face. 

“ELSA!!” 

The Snow Queen didn’t respond, still unconscious, her eyes closed. Honeymaren kept her hand behind her head and fumbled at her belt with the other. She grabbed the knife at her waist and drew it in one swift move, then contrasted with that speed by delicately placing the blade under Elsa’s nose. Time seemed to hang in the air while both Anna and Honeymaren stared desperately at the metal, until it covered with condensation. Elsa was breathing. 

They both sighed heavily, their shoulders slumped. They now were sitting on their heels, gripping the blonde’s body. Honeymaren shook her arms. 

“Please, please open your eyes, Elsa. Please stay with me. Please stay with us.” 

She shook her body again, and Elsa blinked tiredly, opening her eyes very slowly. 

Honeymaren gasped and held her tight, muttering a long line of prayers and gratitudes to the world for bringing back her wife. As she hugged her, she felt the ice and snow clothes under her fingers, and she only realized then that it should have been the best clue to know that she hadn’t left them; the magic fabric would have melted away otherwise. 

“I like it when you hold me in your arms like that…” Muttered the voice of her lover next to her ear. 

The Northuldra leader detached from the hug, and kept her wife in her arms, but away enough to stare at her face. 

“What happened to you??” 

The Snow Queen’s weak features twitched in a smile. “I found the password, Honey…” 

“What?” Blinked the brunette. 

“‘Only time itself will tell’... Kronos. It was Kronos.” 

Anna and Honeymaren remained silent in confusion. What the hell was she talking about? 

“Kronos… The greek god of time…” Murmured Elsa with a weak, almost imperceptible voice. 

She however had an obvious sly smile, and Anna blinked. 

“Wait, what? What are you talking about?” 

Had her sister gone mad? She sounded delirious. 

Honeymaren, on the other hand, had connected the dots. She shook her head, as stunned as Anna, but for a different reason. She sighed at the brilliant mind of her wife. 

“You’re incredible, Elsa, I swear… In all meanings of the term.” 

The blonde allowed herself a grin despite her lack of strength. 

“Would someone care to explain?” Frowned Anna, upset that she was missing something that clearly was important. 

“The code word that would unlock the repressed memories of the previous Fifth Spirit… It was ‘Kronos’.” Said Honeymaren. 

Elsa felt happy as the two people she cared the most about exchanged a gaze with huffed smiles. Though, when their eyes reverted to her, her forces left her; her eyes turned up again and she plunged back into darkness. 

=======

When Elsa regained consciousness, she slowly opened her eyes, recovering her sight in blurry steps. She first saw the floating blue candle jars hovering just below the ceiling of the hut. So she was in her bed. At the idea, a feeling of warmth invaded her heart. She then saw, as her vision sharpened, Honeymaren looking at her in distress, then deep relief as she sighed when she saw her wife smile. 

The brunette cuddled next to her and pressed her forehead to her temple. 

“Thanks Ahtohallan, you’re alright.” She murmured. 

“Actually, what happened is Ahtohallan’s fault…” Pointed out another familiar voice, filled with reproach but also concern. 

Elsa’s smile went larger as she turned her face and saw her sister bent over her as well on the other side of the bed. Anna’s sarcasm left her face to quickly be replaced by happiness when she crossed her elder’s gaze. 

“Hey you.” 

The blonde winced. “Actually, it wasn’t entirely Ahtohallan’s fault.” 

Anna sighed. “Yeah, once again you had to go to far, and now you regret it. Seriously, is she this alluring? Is the need to know the truth like a drug or something?”

Honeymaren and Elsa chuckled. 

“Gotta say, the Spirits call can be breathtakingly beautiful sometimes. I can’t imagine how attractive it is when it comes from the source itself.” Admitted the Northuldra leader. 

“And in addition to your dorky snoop personality…” Smirked Anna. 

“Says the one who keeps asking me about gossip!” Gasped Elsa. 

“Well, at least, I’m not risking my life when I ask!”

Elsa eye-rolled. The sisters grinned, and hugged each other warmly. 

“You scared me a bit there.” Murmured the Queen against Elsa’s ear. 

“It’s a good thing you’re used to my drama then.” 

“True.” 

After Anna detached from the hug, Honeymaren stared at her wife in a scolding expression. 

“You really shouldn’t have done that! Don’t make me quote the song. When will you finally...” 

Her frowned eyebrows suddenly shot up, the rest of her sentence vanishing in her throat as she realized what she was doing. “Oh no. I shouldn’t be angry at you. You could have died, and I’m lucky enough for you to be alive…” 

Elsa’s hand quickly slid on the sheets to hold hers. “You’re my wife, Honey. That’s what married life does. You get deadly worried about the other.” 

Anna winced at the word ‘deadly’. 

“You care about me with all your soul, and you’re angry because you weren’t there to protect me.” Continued Elsa.

“So you agree that it was extremely dangerous.” 

The blonde winced. “Yes.” 

“Your hella curious personality will be your undoing, Elsa.” Grumbled Anna. 

“Without my curiosity, we wouldn’t have known about Runeard’s plan!” Reminded Elsa coldly. 

The two other women couldn’t deny it, and remained silent. 

Honeymaren sighed in an upset way. She didn’t like how Elsa purposely went to Ahtohallan alone right when she figured the code word, because she would definitely have prevented her if she was accompanied. 

She passed a hand in her wife’s hair, retrieving her smile. 

“So the previous Fifth Spirit was a nerd as well, uh?” 

Elsa frowned as she was sitting up with her elbows.

“Why do you say that?” 

“Oh, don’t go ‘anyone could have guessed the Kronos password’. You know that none of us would have found it. Did you see memories of him making jokes about Orion’s belt?” 

Elsa slapped her arm, and she grinned. 

“Those jokes would be so bad that he probably put them in his repressed coded memories, though.” 

She received another slap, and this one was stronger. 

“Well, I’m glad to see that your regained strength.” Laughed Honeymaren, rubbing her bruises. 

Elsa couldn’t help but smile, and shook her head. 

“Can you stand up?” Asked Anna. 

“I think I can.” 

She however put her hand in Honeymaren’s stretched one, just to make sure that she wouldn’t fall if her knees buckled. Nevertheless, she could step easily through the hut, and even started to go outside. As a double reward, the Northuldra who were working near the hut turned to her and beamed to see that she was okay. Elsa smiled back, and she felt infinitely better. Now that she knew all the truth and was replenished, she felt ready to fight Victor. 

“You know, I wouldn’t be surprised that Ahtohallan gifts each Fifth Spirit with sarcasm, drama and nerdiness.” Smiled Anna’s voice behind her as she and Honeymaren got out of the hut. 

Elsa gave her a stare. “Don’t encourage her.” 

The two women simply shrugged, amused. Though, Elsa’s sudden serious face changed the mood. 

“Actually, let’s go back inside. We need to sit down.” 

“Uhh, what? Are you okay?” 

“I’m alright. But I have to tell you all the truth about Victor Eiglatson. And it’s best if we do it privately.” 

The Northuldra and Arendelle leaders exchanged a worried glance, and followed her back inside, closing the door behind them. 

Elsa then proceeded to explain that they got a lot of things wrong about him, as they sadly expected. 

“He has been planning his revenge on the Fifth Spirit for years. Longer than any of us three was born.” 

“This is a really spooky introduction, thank you very much.” Commented Anna, her eyes wide. 

“I’ve had access to every single memory that the previous Fifth Spirit had been ashamed of and hiding, even to himself, and…” 

Elsa shivered. That meant a lot coming from her. Honeymaren understood now that her weak state wasn’t only because going far in the secret past had impacted her magic; it was an emotional wreck as well. 

“I’m gonna explain it from the very beginning.” Told Elsa. “So, first of all, Victor Eiglatson had a wife, called Niks.” 

Her sister puffed. “How could a man like him have been married?” 

Elsa gave her a stare. 

“Anna, I love you with all my heart, but I’m begging you to not interrupt me until I’m finished.”

The redhead pouted in a sullen expression, and Honeymaren bit her lip with a smile. ‘Let her continue’, she said with a gaze. 

“Victor and Niks both were merchants, who traveled around the country, and they both had dark magic.” 

“What? How??”

“Anna…” 

“Okay, okay, I’m quiet.” 

Elsa resumed. 

“While Victor kept it low profile, Niks kept using her dark magic for larceny. Robbery, bullying… She kept wielding her powers for evil ends. One day, they were delivering supplies to the Northuldra, and she had threatened the people during the night. The Fifth Spirit had noticed, and spied on her to see if she would do it again. He saw her doing it repetitively each night Victor and her had stayed in the camp, as they had asked for board and lodging for a week. 

Two days before they left, the Northuldra leader told her that he knew what she was doing. He warned her, stating that the next time she would use her powers for such acts, he would have to punish her. She didn’t take him seriously at all. On the following night, she blackmailed a young mother and her child, saying that she would send monsters and hell on the poor family if they didn’t give her half of their crops by the next time they would do business here. The Fifth Spirit saw everything. On the morning after their departure, he followed their caravan, and…” 

The Snow Queen interrupted her story. It was a bit sudden, so the others wondered what had happened. 

“He…” Elsa stopped to gulped. She took a few seconds, then retrieve the needed courage. “He killed her. He killed Niks with his ice and snow magic.” 

Anna and Honeymaren let out synchronized gasps. Anna’s hand flew to her mouth. Elsa closed her eyes and lowered her head. 

“I saw everything. I mean, it was in ice statues form, but… Still. And as he used the same magic than I do, I could almost… Feel what I saw. He impaled her in one go.” 

Honeymaren’s throat tightened, a ball forming in her throat, and she guessed that it was the same for Elsa. She placed a tender hand on her shoulder, and the blonde squeezed it tenderly. After a breathe in, she continued. 

“Victor saw everything. He was boiling with sorrow and rage. He wanted to kill the Fifth Spirit right away, but he froze his lower body and walked away, returning to the camp. He said that it was what needed to be done.” 

Elsa’s hands had returned in her lap, and she clenched her fists nervously. 

“He didn’t even apologize. Victor had spend the day screaming and shouting until the ice melted with the heat of the sun. Once it had vanished, he realized that he had to bury his wife properly before setting off to the camp to murder the Northuldra leader. On her tombstone, he swore to avenge her, and built a plan. Only, when he came to the Forest days later…” 

She looked up at the ceiling, like she could see the sky from where they were. 

“The mist had fallen.” 

She shrugged sadly. “He tried all he could, poured all his magic into his efforts, but it was in vain. As you know, only Anna and I can open the mist. Only the Bridge can. Only the Fifth Spirit can. And the Fifth Spirit… Had just died in turn.” 

Elsa looked at the wall absentmindedly as she remembered the ice statues. “Victor learned about his death through rumors as he came back to the kingdom. He noticed how some soldiers were hateful towards the Northuldra, and he enrolled in the army to train for the day the mist would lift. He planned and planned and planned, and his dark magic got better and darker each passing year. The only thing that separated him from his revenge was a wall of smoke.” 

Her eyes lifted to Anna. “Years later, he learned that I was the Fifth Spirit. In fact, that we both technically were. He started to shout to everyone that we did not deserve to be Queens of Arendelle for that reason. You know the rest. He got sent to prison for such words, but he escaped with magic. His goo monsters slipped through the bars really easily…” 

She once again couldn’t help but let out a little bit of admiration for his creations, despite some disgust. 

“It was less than a month ago. He had trained a lot since. But… Despite hating the Fifth Spirit with all his soul, and his promise to avenge his wife’s death... He actually doesn’t plan to kill me.” 

Honeymaren gave her a look that meant ‘Let me guess, it’s way worse?’ 

“His goal is to rip my magic out of me.” 

The two other woman widened their eyes in utter astonishment. And to make things worse, Elsa kept going. 

“He cleverly thought of that because with his research, he understood that the Fifth Spirit reincarnation is a cycle. Ahtohallan gives the ice and snow powers to a new person each time the previous dies, for them to be the only one to read her memories. And if he kills me, the chain would not stop, it would simply continue. However, by absorbing my magic, his revenge will be complete.” 

Anna had at least a hundred of questions burning her lips at Elsa’s statements. Yet, the elder lifted a finger. 

“Wait, that’s not all; I also saw a memory on his frieze that wasn’t there the last time we checked it with Honeymaren. It was the most recent one. From this afternoon.” 

She gave a pause, and gulped. “He’s planning to attack Ahtohallan’s tonight, and rot it to the core with his goo magic.” 

The two women let out the same gasp, quickly replaced by a deep groan. No one would touch Elsa, and no one would touch Ahtohallan. For Anna, the magic glacier was the source of her magic and who she was and had allowed her to be fully proud of her identity. For Honeymaren, it was this and even more; Ahtohallan was her deity, a representant of the sacred laws of Nature, and she would never let anyone profane the entity that the Northuldra worshipped since forever. 

“We’ve got to unite all of our forces and prevent him from crossing the Dark Sea.” Stated Elsa with emotion. 

A silence fell, and she looked at them with sad eyes. 

Anna didn’t dare to react verbally yet. 

“Uhm… Are you finished?” 

Elsa sighed. “Gosh, I hope so. Yeah, you can talk.” 

“Well, I don’t even know where to start.” Exhaled the Queen. 

“The only thing I retain from all of these news is that I call dibs on the first shot to Victor’s heart.” Grumbled Honeymaren, fire in her hazelnut eyes. 

“Honey, no.” Calmed Elsa. “Violence is not the solution. I mean, of course we’re going to fight him with all our forces, don’t look at me like that, but we’re not going to kill him. This is not who we are. He’s the murderer, not us. He will have to face justice.” 

Honeymaren sighed in a pout. Elsa was right. 

“M’kay.” 

She didn’t seem so convinced, but admitted that shooting arrows at a human’s heart wasn’t really the way to show a good example. 

Anna passed a hand in her hair, and tucked it behind her ear. “So… People with magic can… Rip magic out of other magic people?” 

Elsa gave her a sad look. “I didn’t even know it was possible until today. And I’ve been exploring the abilities of my magic since the Great Thaw, so for nearly 20 years. Never would I have thought that I could extract magic out of someone’s soul…” 

A silence floated in the room. Honeymaren and Anna exchanged a gaze, not daring to ask the question. Finally, Anna did. 

“And… Do you think that you…” 

“No. I would never do that. I don’t want to learn how to do it, and I never want to do it.” Stated Elsa, her voice firm and strong. 

Her azure blue eyes had been so intense that the two other women got stunned by it, then they had grateful smiles. Elsa had god tier powers, but never would she commit such an act. 

However, guilt roamed the Snow Queen’s body as she remembered that the previous Fifth Spirit, on the other hand, had come to a decision of this gravity. 

She looked down as she passed her hands on her arms, curling a bit on herself. “First my grandfather… Now him… I’m tied to criminals.” 

“Don’t say that!” Exclaimed Anna. 

“He killed, Anna. My previous incarnation killed someone.” 

“He’s not you. You are not defined by his action. You’re you own person, even if you have identical powers. You’re no evil, Elsa. Do you hear me?” 

The redhead had been grabbing her sister’s arms for impact, but also to make her stop cowering. 

“You’re literally the most gentle, nicest person I’ve ever met.” 

Elsa blinked sadly. Honeymaren nodded firmly next to Anna, and passed a soft hand in her hair and along her face. 

“Yes, you are, snømus. Would I have made a murderer my wife? I don’t think so.” 

A snort escaped Elsa’s sad lips. 

With the way her sister and lover were holding her, she could cry instantly, so humor was a good way to prevent that. She took a long inhale, and stood up. 

“Yes, it’s no time to get emotional. Victor is cruel and reckless. Tonight we face him with all that we got.” 

The Snow Queen walked to the entrance of the hut, opened it, and turned around to face the two women who looked at her in undeniable awe. With the light passing by the wood slits and the candles projecting blue hues on her face, she looked like a fierce Valkyrie on the warpath. 

She gave their stunned faces a big grin. 

“Let’s suit on.” 

A second of impressed silence fell. Anna let out an amazed puff. “Waow, look at who’s all confident about conflict now. Who are you and what have you done with my forever insecure sister?” 

The blonde gave her a judging look. She had just ruined her epic attitude. 

“I’m not saying that negatively.” Assured the younger. “Only… Damn, you’ve become such a badass. What happened to you?” 

Honeymaren put a hand on Anna’s shoulder. 

“She married me.” 

Elsa smirked.

=======

Anna helped Eydis to put her armor on, then Elsa helped Anna with hers. Sometimes, the redhead had so snap her sister back to reality, because she was admiring the beauty of some steel pieces and taking a lot of breaks.

“Elsa, you’ll get plenty of time to admire my armor once I have it entirely on.” 

“Yeah, sorry. Am I too slow?” 

“No, it’s fine. It’s actually touching that you love it so much. I like to have your opinion on those kind of things. But right now, I’m starting to lose my balance.” 

Elsa hurried to place her boot correctly. She then asked for Anna to turn around to tighten her brigandine. Anna had a proud grin as she stood with her hands on her hips while Elsa was busy. 

“With it, there’s no way those monster’s dark slime will touch my skin.”

She was about to turn to look at Elsa, when an annoying noise came from her neck. “Damn, my gorget keeps squeaking. Can you do something about it?” 

Elsa turned once she was done with the bodice. 

“Well, my magic may do a lot of miracles, however ice and snow are everything but oily. So I’m afraid I can’t.”

“I was talking about actual grease, dummy. Do you have some?” 

“Oh. Yes.” 

Anna smiled as Elsa went to get some in the shed. It was funny how, long ago, the Snow Queen would never have dared to use her magic for anything, and now it was her default option. 

“A Northuldra is using it next door, he will bring it back. Apparently, Kristoff have the same problem.” Smiled Elsa. “I know it’s a good sign, but when was the last time you two wore armors?” 

“It’s not that it’s rusty”, defended Anna. “They are pure work of art from Arendellian’s best craft people. But they need some… Restoration?” 

The blonde grinned. She kept helping her sister place the armor’s pieces one by one, picking them up from the chest where only hers had remained. Her smile faded when she saw how red Anna’s face had gotten when she lifted the faulds and was about to place them. 

“What is it? You seem uncomfortable.” 

Anna looked away with a little pout. “It’s nothing.” 

“No, it’s something. Your freckles almost are disappearing under your blush. What’s wrong?” 

The Queen looked at the faulds. “They’re very large, aren’t they?” 

Elsa blinked in incomprehension. “Uhh… Yeah, they’re meant to go around the waist and hips to protect them. So, by definition, they are.” 

“No, I mean…” 

She was unable to finish her sentence. Elsa frowned as she tried to understand. “You mean your hips and waist are very large.” 

Anna looked away again, and nodded silently. The Snow Queen put away the faults in a brisk move, which the redhead interpreted as revulsion. That’s why she was confused when both her hands got seized in hers. 

“Anna, look at me.” 

The redhead had startled at the touch, and she turned to her sister. “What?” 

“You can’t possibly be saying that you don’t like your body, right?” 

The teal blue eyes went down. “So you agree. You think I’m fat too.” 

“Oh Ahtohallan, no, Anna, hey, look at me.” 

She quitted holding her hands to place soft palms against her cheeks. Anna looked at her, and she was on the verge of crying. 

A silence passed, and Elsa’s gaze switched from one eye to the other. 

“What if you are.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“What if you’re fat?” Said Elsa. 

Anna blinked. It surprised her so much that her tears went away. 

“Yeah, what if you’re fat. Does it matter?” Asked Elsa. 

The redhead blabbered. “Well, of course it does!” 

“No it doesn’t. Stop me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that Kristoff has seen you naked a couple of times or more, didn’t he?” She asked, half-teasing. 

Anna blushed. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Did he ever say anything negative about your body? In 10 years of marriage?” 

“I… No, quite the opposite.” Muttered Anna. “But he could be lying.” 

“Oh. Sure. So, allow me to ask: when was the last time Kristoff has ever lied to you?” 

Anna was speechless. Why was Elsa so good at this? How did she knew exactly which arguments do use? How did she knew precisely what Anna had to be reassured about? The elder sister brushed her cheek with her thumbs to take her out of her thoughts. 

“Anna. You gave birth to two beautiful, amazing children. Your body changed from that. There is nothing more normal in the entire world. Nature gave you the space to bear children.” 

As if those touching words weren’t enough to wreck Anna’s entire soul, Elsa’s left hand went to Anna’s lower belly. “You carried life. Life is the most beautiful thing in the world. Don’t you think that life deserves as much space as possible? And you carried it with love. Love is the most important thing in the world. Don’t you think that love also deserves as much space as possible?” 

The redhead’s lips trembled, and she could barely talk as they stretched in a smile. 

“Y-- Yes.” 

“Then cherish each and every single ounce of your body that fills that space today.” 

Anna’s eyes closed and her tears fell, then she launched herself in Elsa’s arms for a tight hug. It was truly tight with her armor, but the blonde couldn’t care less. She closed her eyes as her little sister’s doubts faded away, and she could almost feel how lighter her soul was. 

“Thank you so much, I… I…” 

Anna had troubles breathing, and gasped over her shoulder. 

“Hey, take your time. It’s okay.” Elsa said gently, rubbing the back of her hair. 

Anna soon detached from the hug to rub her tears and sniff. “I should stop crying though, or this armor really will get rusty.” 

Elsa smiled. The Queen stared at her resolutely. 

“You know, you often say it for yourself, but I swear that I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Nonsense. You rule a kingdom. And are the most admired monarch of Arendelle’s history.” 

A silence passed, and they looked at each other with sighs, until Anna stopped sniffing. Elsa picked the iron piece from where she had left it. 

“Now, can I please put your faulds on?”

“Yes.” 

They kept going with smiles, continuing component after component. 

“Can you promise me you won’t tell anyone about what just happened?” 

Elsa smirked. 

“Sure, don’t worry. I’ll take your secret to the greave.” 

Anna stared at her sister, then down at the piece of armor she was holding around her leg, then stared at her again, and this time in a judging way. 

“Was that a pun?” 

Elsa wheezed, not able to retain herself. “It was a good one, admit it!” 

“I can’t freaking believe that my sister just made a joke about a grave. Oh my gods. Hey, stop laughing. No, don’t fall to the floor. Elsa!! Put the greave back on my… Ugh. You’re impossible!!” 

She grunted as she placed the piece herself, shaking her head at her elder’s giggles. With the shake, the gorget squeaked, which made Elsa howl with laughter even more. Actually, the blonde’s laugh was so contagious that Anna laughed as well. 

“That really was an awful joke. I hereby declare, Queen Anna of Arendelle, that you are not allowed to enter the kingdom’s territory anymore. We don’t tolerate this bad humor.” 

Elsa snorted. “Oh, come on. Everyone knows how acclaimed I am in Arendelle. People would riot if they don’t hear my stupid jokes from time to time.” 

Anna sighed dramatically. “Granted.”

“You wouldn’t get rid of me that easily anyway.” Smirked Elsa. 

Anna kept going on her drama. 

“I know. That’s my burden. Being stuck with you as my sister for my whole life.” 

She turned to the door when she heard Eydis come in the hut to pick her gauntlets. 

“Eydis, could you come over here please?” 

“Why?” Frowned the princess, wondering what her mother was talking about from behind the changing screen. 

“Would you grab your mace and kill me? I can’t stand Elsa anymore.” 

The girl knew her mother’s ramblings enough to understand that she was joking, and didn’t even lift her head from the gauntlets she was tying up at her wrists. 

“Sure. Do you want to be knocked on the head or in the face?” 

The sisters laughed. 

“Gosh, she’s a future mercenary.” Chuckled Elsa. 

“She’s actually aiming for ice harvester mixed with sailor.” Shrugged Anna. 

Soon, they were finished. “Come on, let’s go outside so I can admire it in the sunlight.” Beamed the Snow Queen. 

=======

“So now you’re the one in need of a tissue. Do you need one?” Grinned Anna. “We probably packed some.” 

Elsa breathed in and out heavily as she blinked to chase her emotional tears. 

“You just look… So great, in this, Anna. I’m…” 

She let out a noise that was a mix of a gasp and a squeal. “I’m really proud of you.” 

The Queen of Arendelle smiled widely at the compliment. “Thank you, sis.” 

Anna’s armor was entirely polished with a matte golden color, and it made her look like a stunning legend. The absence of reflections gave her a serious aura and the detailed finishing touches showcased her. Each joint of the metal and seam of the reinforced garment were engraved and embroidered with ivy motives. On both of her shoulder pieces were drawn Arendelle crocuses, one in green and one in purple. Her plackart proudly displayed the kingdom’s flag, and it married perfectly with the gold color of the whole outfit. 

Gods, was it hard for Elsa to not burst into tears at the whole sight. 

She approached to wrap her arms around the redhead. It was rare that Elsa was the one to initiate embraces, so it meant a lot to Anna, and it warmed her heart. 

When they finished hugging, Elsa held the face of her little sister in her hands, sniffing at her beauty. “You’ve become a wonderful woman, Anna. A passionate Queen, a devoted mother, and a hero with a heart of gold.” 

The redhead snorted modestly. “You’ve only seen me in that armor for like, two minutes.” 

Elsa shrugged. “And yet, I can attest you that you would look way better on a Joan of Arc style portrait than I’ll ever do.” 

Her younger laughed. “This might be the best compliment in the world.” 

“Looking really good, Anna!” Approved a voice behind them, and they turned to see Honeymaren with a thumb up. 

Anna giggled and thanked her with a comical curtsey.  

“I’ll join you in a moment, I’m gonna suit up too.” Informed the Northuldra. 

“Okay.” 

She disappeared in the armory hut, and the Snow Queen smiled when her eyes landed on the redhead again. “With Kristoff and Eydis, you three look absolutely amazing. This really looks like the Arendelle flag was brought to life.” 

Anna smiled. “Let’s hope that it will fly forever, then.” 

The exchanged a gaze, their eyes sparkling with emotion. 

Elsa looked over to where Kristoff and Eydis had been standing, and the sisters spent a long time talking about the specificities of each. Kristoff’s one definitely was a mix of a knight armor and an ice harvester outfit, while Eydis’ one seemed like a miniature of her mother’s, but in silver. With her blonde hair, she was really pretty. All the armors, in their own way, demonstrated how talented Arendelle’s craftspeople were.  

“I like how we got those armors made to measure.” Said Anna. “It allows easy movements, while it assures efficient protection.” 

“Yeah, it’s…”

The blonde’s answer vanished in her throat. Elsa suddenly disconnected from reality as she stared behind Anna, but it was like she was staring at nothing. Or rather, at something divine. 

“Hey, are you with me?” Said her sister, snapping her fingers in front of her eyes. “Did your brain fry in Ahtohallan or what?” 

Elsa didn’t respond. With a frown, Anna turned around to follow her gaze, and when she saw Honeymaren step out of the hut, it was like the Forest itself had stopped its activity to stare in awe. 

The brunette was wearing a traditional war outfit only wore by Northuldra leaders, and it suddenly became very clear to Anna why Elsa hadn’t been able to make words. Anyone had to admit that Honeymaren was giving a stunning impression with that attire. Anna’s jaw dropped when the brunette took a few steps outside and looked over the tribe with a stare that made her aura matching the one of a falcon, except that her eyes were filled with pride and care for her people. The redhead then realized that she was looking for Elsa among the crowd that was staring at her, and when she finally recognized the platinum blonde woman behind Anna, her satisfied smile went larger in a beam. She made her way to her, and the Queen wondered if Honeymaren was ready to see up close the ravenous look that Elsa was giving her, and if Elsa was strong enough to not faint right when the leader would be breathing near her. 

With amusement, Anna’s eyes darted from one woman to the other, and it was certain now that Elsa had never seen Honeymaren wearing that outfit. Which made sense, given the current peaceful times. 

It was a mix of a tunic and an armor made of hard leather. The latter fabric clearly had been reinforced with an unusual thickness that was reserved to battle gear, and Anna was impressed by the details that however had been drawn on it. How much time did the Northuldra have spent on this? It required a lot of expertise and talent for a tribe that only used manual tools. Several bands of lighter leather crossed Honeymaren’s torso and fell from her shoulders to land on her hips, both holding her weapons and assuring that the flexible armor would stay in place. A large band of thick leather crossed the leader’s belly and juxtaposed her traditional belt, to which was still attached her usual dagger. Beautiful darker pieces were covering her forearms so she could easily protect herself from the blows, and Anna noticed the sames on her thighs and shins, tied above her tunic. Her left wrist was protected on the inside as well, the leather also serving as a guard to avoid any injury when archery is involved. The outfit was objectively magnificent with all its practical yet sophisticated pieces, all dyed with different natural colors that made it soar. Some were pitch black, others a deep brown interlaced with ochre bands - which highlighted her chestnut eyes - and others, especially her tunic, were bright beige. 

Honeymaren had completed the outfit with her bow in her back and her quiver at her waist, and it looked like she was ready to slay. In fact, Anna was almost considering the idea to let her go to battle on her own and take care of everything. Who could stand up to her? 

Elsa let out a noise when her wife arrived to her level, and it betrayed the fact that she had forgotten to breathe for a moment. 

“H-- Hey-y… You.” 

Both Anna and Honeymaren bit their lips to hide their giggle at Elsa’s rare fluster. For a very articulate person, she seemed to have lost all her vocabulary. 

“H-Honey…” 

She tried to say a full sentence, but was simply unable to. 

Bruni trotted nearby and squeaked, and Anna smirked. Was it to admire the Northuldra leader and compliment her outfit, or to check that the Fifth Spirit wasn’t on fire? 

“Are you okay?” Grinned Honeymaren, teasing, though a bit concerned. Now wasn’t the time for Elsa to faint again. 

“I-- I’m beautiful. I mean… I’m not... I’m super-- I’m great.” 

Anna giggled, but she managed to hide it behind her palm. Elsa was too busy staring deeply at her lover to even notice it. 

“Breathe, love.” Smiled Honeymaren, passing her hand along the blonde’s cheek. 

One could think that this would make her arousal even deeper, but the brunette actually succeeded in taking Elsa out of her transe. She gulped as she retrieved her normal behavior. 

“Yeah, uhm… Uh… Let’s get ready, shall we?” 

She coughed and turned around, inviting the others to follow her. 

“Auntie, what will you wear for battle?” Inquired Eydis, running a bit to go walk next to her, her mace bouncing on her shoulder. 

Her little eyes were sparkling as she imagined the most amazing armor possible. Elsa recovered from her fluster and looked at her niece with a smirk. 

“Why, my work outfit of course.” 

As she walked, and there was no need for her to stop nor slow down, she flicked her wrists up in unison. Gusts and twirls of glittering magic appeared from her palms and went in two ways. One move went down from her wrists and added layers of protection to the casual white tunic she had been wearing. The other move went up like embers of ice that floated in the air, which then deposited on her bright white outfit like petals. The magical dust formed new shapes on her shoulders, knees, chest, belly, hips and shins, creating the most perfect ice armor. It couldn’t be more custom-made, and it obeyed each and every motion she made, being comfortable and ergonomic. It also was incredibly beautiful with its breathtaking details and decorations, once again reminding the four other Spirits. Most of the parts were diamond-shaped. Despite the whole piece of art it made, its transparency didn’t fool anyone; the armor was sturdy, if not more than regular ones. Elsa admired her own work. 

“...With a few additions, I’ll admit.” She smiled. 

Honeymaren’s chestnut eyes got lost at the sight, having not missed any of the show while she walked on Elsa’s other side. That was, for the lack of any other word, a divine transformation. Her eyes filled with tears. Were they due to emotion or because the outfit was bright white and gave the feeling to stare at the full Moon herself? She blinked to dissimulate them. 

“Not very stealthy, but I guess what we’ll have to deal with it.” Shrugged Honeymaren, to joke about it and switch her mood. 

She giggled when she received a white-covered elbow nudging her ribs. 

Elsa shook her head, then looked at the horizon. Her gaze now was more focused than ever. 

“Okay, Victor. You wanted to face me? I’m not alone anymore. Here we come.”

[criticalrolo]

Some more worldbuilding...

After explaining how the planes work in my last post, I wanted to do a write-up of the Gods in my homebrew setting Asterion. I’ve also included a sample of how I’ve gone about designing individual religions for one of the gods :)

ETHRYS' PANTHEON (THE OLD GODS)

Sovereign of the Gods/Justice/Time - Ionid

God of the Earth - Gelion

Goddess of the Skies - Cielara

God/dess of Death/Fate - Onthys

Goddess of Light/Life/Civilization - Elowen

The original pantheon of Gods created by Ethrys was made up of five individuals: Ionid, Gelion, Cielara, Onthys, and Elowen. These gods presided over the most fundamental aspects of space and time. Of the five, Ionid was elected the Sovereign of the Gods as they oversaw the flow of time through the planes and enabled the rest of the Gods to care for their domains.

In between the time of Ethrys' Sealing and the creation of the Astral Plane, Elowen and Onthys walked among the planes, sewing the rips and tears of reality back together where they found them. From these spots of condensed, healed chaos, the first humans, elves, dwarves, and other beings came into existence. Elowen loved these new beings dearly, and worked with Gelion and Cielara to make the planes beautiful for them to enjoy. When Gelion saw the beings, his tears of joy and delight splashed down and created the first oceans. Cielara created the sun and the moon so that the new beings would always be able to behold the glorious domains of the Gods. Elowen poured her sparks of light and life into the new creations, giving them the ability to create and think and love as the Gods did.

The more beings Elowen created, the more Ionid and Onthys grew concerned about the precarious balance of nature that Ethrys had sealed herself away for. Because of this, Onthys tied their strings of fate to the sparks of Life Cielara had given the new beings, and attached them to their loom. These shining threads became the first Souls. The new beings were then joined into the cycle of life that the other living beings followed, beginning with birth and ending with death, to maintain the balance of existence.

THE NEW GODS

God of Knowledge/Magic - Thaldorn

Goddess of Strength/War - Kivan God of Home/Artisans - Hipoar

Goddess of Luck/Trickery - Tiva

With the creation of living Souls came the creation of new Deities, born from the minds that Elowen gave them. There were dozens of these new Gods created. Just as the Souls were able to adapt and change, these gods partially created themselves, taking on their own aspects and domains. Some only lasted for a generation before they were forgotten and faded away, while others attained powers nearly equal to those of Ethrys' Pantheon. Some of these more powerful gods included Thaldorn, Kivan,  Hipoar, and Tiva. These more powerful gods could encompass multiple aspects and persisted longer than some of the smaller, more specific domain gods. For example, a city's local god and Thaldorn could both preside over Roads, Thaldorn in general and the city's god along their own streets.

There was tension among Ethrys' Pantheon and the New Gods, especially in regards to which group encompassed the truly superior Gods. The Old believed that the New were too unpredictable and unbalanced, and that they should not be seen as parallel in power to the Old as they had not been directly created by Ethrys. The New believed that the Old were denying the innovation and creation that Ethrys had stood for by holding the New below them. This schism was present on the Mortal Planes as well, with each God's followers arguing for their own superiority. Tensions became even worse after the arrival of Oknus' Pantheon and the sacrifice required for the creation of the Astral Plane, which made the Old dependent on their followers for power much like the New.  

Elowen was the first deity to decide that the fighting had gone on long enough, and started to compromise with the New on behalf of the Old in order to unify all the good and neutral aligned deities against Oknus' Pantheon. This unification effort made her a symbol of Civilization among the Souls, as a bridge between the old world and the new. Begrudgingly, the Gods agreed to tentatively put their differences aside in order to focus on protecting their domains against the more important threats from the lower planes.

Religion

Onthys Our Lady the White Wolf,  Our Lord the Black Wolf, The Shepherd of Souls, The Fate Weaver Onthys is one of the original gods created by Ethrys before her Sealing. They were created as a counterpart to Ionid, the Sovereign of Time, as a means to create a direction for the flow of time. They also balanced Elowen, the Goddess of Life, to act as a shepherd for the souls from the Prime Material Plane to the next world.

Depictions of Onthys vary by different cultures, and they are typically presented as a man, a woman, or another non-binary gender according to different accounts. They are referred to by any pronouns. • Domains: Death, Fate, Balance • Clerics: Death, Grave, Life, Twilight, Blood, Unity, Nature

Colors and Symbols Depictions of Onthys typically show them wearing a mask made of a ram skull and carrying a tall black crook. Onthys' holy symbol is a black shepherd's crook inside a white circle. Wolves, dogs, and rams are all sacred animals to them. Unbroken, perfect circles are also considered sacred to Onthys, as well as looms, crooks, and the color black. 

Rituals, Holidays, and Festivals • Veil's Day: This is a holy day when followers will visit cemeteries and gravesites, following the paths in and out as their souls will do someday as they join Onthys' Flock. They typically wear black veils, to represent their eventual separation from the mortal world, and will fast for twenty four hours, beginning at midnight. This holy day occurs on the first full moon of winter. • The Fated Feast: At the end of the harvest season, followers will take three full days to prepare an enormous feast celebrating the renewed cycle of life and death that has allowed them to prosper for another year. If possible, they will weave themselves a new article of clothing. This is also a day of remembrance for the people that passed in the year since the last Fated Feast, and it is believed that Onthys will allow these souls to visit the celebration on this day. 

Tenets • To deny fate is to deny existence and reality. • The designs of fate that guide our lives are a gift from the Gods and an opportunity to learn and grow. • Death is as natural and vital as life -- the undead are an abomination. • If it is fate for someone to be healed, then they will be healed. If it is fate for someone to die, then they will die. Attempts to intercede in our Lord's fated shepherding of souls must be prevented at all costs. 

Temple Clergy and Followers Onthys' most dedicated followers are referred to as her Flock. Local ministries are led by Denmothers and fathers, and the religion is headed by the Grey Wolves. Conversion efforts are not as prominent as in other religions, as Onthys' followers believe that everyone will join the Flock between life and death, but the church will send their followers known as Fatestrings to smaller territories in missionary efforts. The Flock typically gets along well with other followers of the Old Gods, but is hard pressed to trust the New Gods, especially followers of Tiva, the goddess of luck, who they believe disrespect the eternal nature of fate. They are sworn enemies of Oknus' evil Pantheon. 

Artifacts and Sacred Items • The Staff of the Fate Weaver: A black wooden staff shaped like a shepherd's crook, supposedly carved from the first tree that withered in the first winter. It is inlaid with rows of small white diamonds and has a mother-of-pearl grip. This staff adds +1 to a spell caster's DC and has seven charges that are regained at dawn. Casting "Blindness/Deafness" costs one charge, casting "Life Transference" costs two charges, and casting "Circle of Death" costs four charges. • The White Wolf's Circlet: This delicate silver white circlet depicts the head of a wolf with inlaid sapphire eyes. When attuned, the wearer is immune to the fear condition and all fear-based attacks, as well as immune to forced movement effects. 

Sects • The Northern Wolves: This splinter group is located in the far northern continent and believes that Death is the only true God that one can trust. They eschew all forms of healing and medical intervention, instead opting to put all their trust in Onthys' loom of fate to determine if someone lives or dies. They purposefully live in dire, survivalist conditions in order to be as close to their God as possible and will frequently fast for days or weeks on end to prove their devotion. These extremists live on a nearly completely carnivorous diet and will go on Hunts that they see as a form of sacrament. The most fanatical of these have even branched out into humanoids in some cases. • The Butcher Souls: Primarily an underground urban-based sect, these cultists revere Death as the most natural, desirable state of being, and believe it is their duty to return as many Souls to Onthys as possible. Their rituals involve some members drinking poison to bring themselves to the brink of death, while others comb the streets for unlucky passerby that are chosen as sacrifices to Onthys.

[paladinwife]

💍 w edelgard! :>

Goodness I’m so sorry for taking so long! Got caught up in birthday stuff. But I’m always happy to talk about my wife

Going to put under a read more because Long

Where they get married:

In Enbarr. Edelgard brought Mira back to the Empire for their wedding, and there really was no better place than the palace itself.

When they get married ( ie what time of day, what month and season etc. ):

Definitely in Autumn, maybe sometime around Horsebow Moon or Wyvern Moon so the scenery is beautiful and the weather is nice. Mira was particularly insistent on an autumn wedding, and Edelgard was inclined to agree. The wedding is probably held starting in the early evening so they can be bathed in the beautiful colors of sunset and twilight.

What traditions they include ( do they get married under a chuppah and crush a glass, garter toss, ‘something borrowed, something blue,’ etc. ):

Mostly imperial royal wedding traditions! So things like holding the wedding in the palace, letting the celebrations spread into the surrounding town so effectively everyone is invited, Mira getting coronated at the wedding, and so on. Of course, a lot of traditions Edelgard felt were obsolete and didn’t reflect how she saw her role or the empire, so she did away with them, but she really liked the spirit of including the whole empire in the celebrations.

What their wedding cake looks like:

Elegant and delicate. The cake itself is a rose-flavored sponge with a soft pink color, and it is frosted in white and decorated elegantly. It might not be as dramatic as many modern cakes (let alone old-style wedding cakes), but Edelgard thought it was perfect.

….who smashes cake into whose face:

Neither! They both feed each other carefully.

Who proposed to who first:

Edelgard proposed. She was the one to confess first, and also it made sense that she would be the one to breach the subject first because she’s the emperor and has her responsibilities to worry about.

Who walks down the aisle and who waits at the altar ( or neither ):

Edelgard is brought out first and then waits at the altar for Mira to be brought out.

What their wedding dresses / suits / other look like:

Edelgard’s is red with tones of gold, in the grand imperial tradition. Mira’s is white. Both are quite fluffy and elegant. Mira in particular wanted one with a fuller skirt because she likes the way that looks.

What their wedding colour scheme is and what sort of decor they have:

Lots of red and gold, because imperial colors. There are some touches of white, though, so the color scheme doesn’t get completely overwhelming.

What flowers are in the bouquet ( if applicable. bonus: what do the flowers mean? ):

Everyone who has heard me talk about this ship knows what’s coming, but: red carnations and red roses. The red carnations for Edelgard, and the red roses for Mira. Maybe include some delicate white blossoms in there too.

By the way, the flower symbolism for Edelgard and Mira’s flowers:

Red carnation: deep romantic love, passion

Red rose: true love

What their vows are ( eg poetry, traditional, improvised etc. ):

They’re traditional royal vows, but modified to be more suitable to them. They both looked them over and rewrote them until they were perfect.

If anyone’s late to the wedding:

Not either of them! Caspar and Linhardt probably were, though.

Who’s in the bridal parties / groomsmen / other:

All of the Black Eagles (including friend self inserts) were in the wedding party in some form, as well as some non-Eagles with ties to the empire (Mercedes and Jeritza, Constance, etc.) and Lysithea (who was requested by both Edelgard and Mira). Edelgard’s best man was Hubert, and Mira’s maid of honor was Ingrid (one of the few non-Empire residents). Incidentally, their closest wedding party members weren’t specifically gendered, it just so happened that they ended up with one man and one woman.

What their bridal party / groomsmen / other are wearing:

For the most part they’re dressed in Imperial official wear, with some notable exceptions. Petra comes in her regalia from Brigid (as she is a literal queen in attendance), and Ingrid and Lysithea are dressed in official wear from their respective areas of Fodlan - though the countries themselves are no longer sovereign, it’s a symbolic gesture.

Who gives speeches at the reception ( bonus: what do they say? recount a sweet memory or two between them? tell an embarrassing story? ):

Hubert gives a surprisingly eloquent and well-presented speech dedicated to the couple. Likewise, Ingrid’s is also really good and was particularly heartfelt. Edelgard as emperor also gives a speech, though it’s mostly dedicated to her new wife’s coronation.

Who catches the bouquet( s ):

Ingrid! She gets ribbed a bit by the other former Lions in attendance.

What their wedding photos are like ( are they sweet, with the couple holding hands or kissing or ~gazing into each others eyes~? are they silly, with a snapshot of the ‘cake-smash’ moment? or are they artistic, with one of them facing the sunset or holding their bouquets? ):

Not really wedding “photos”, all things considered, but there is a traditional portrait made of the newlywed couple. It’s fairly traditional in composition, with the two of them seated in their wedding attire both holding a royal scepter, but clearly special attention was paid to their expressions and the love in their eyes. Also, Ignatz was the artist behind the painting! He offered his services as a gift, but they didn’t feel right not paying him, so rest assured that they made it rain on the Ignatz.

What sort of food they have at the reception:

You may be seeing a trend here of traditional but with a twist! It could be described as maybe traditional feast fare, but Mira in particular had strong feelings on the menu and ensured that there would be enough for the many guests and that it would be delicious.

Who cries first during the ceremony:

Mira, if not Caspar.

How wild their reception gets ( who dances the best, who gets drunk first, etc.:

Considering that the whole town is involved, it gets wild! Caspar was probably the biggest party animal, but really almost everyone got to drink and be merry. Also, Hubert agrees to dance just this one time, and he gets cheered on by all of the Eagles.

What their rings are like:

The one Mira received was an imperial heirloom, with the imperial crest on it. Edelgard’s was designed and made to match, with a gold band and red stones.

What sort of favours they have ( heart shaped sparklers, mini champagne bottles, personalised candy etc. ):

No real designated favors, as it were! That wasn’t really commonly done in the Empire’s past, and it would be difficult with the sheer number of guests - it was already hard enough making sure enough food was prepared for everyone!

Where they go for their honeymoon:

If anywhere, to the southern territories of the Empire for some warm weather and sun.

Something memorable that happens during the party / ceremony ( do they run out of ice and someone goes to get it in full formal wear on foot, does anyone fall asleep in the middle of the party, etc. ):

The aforementioned Hubert dance was definitely one! He then insisted that no one ever speak of it again. Caspar will definitely speak of it again.

Who officiates the ceremony:

Ferdinand, as the new Prime Minister. He was pretty proud of his role.

What song their first dance is to:

Can I say someone plays them the Sleeping Beauty Waltz by Tchaikovsky? Because I want to say it’s the Sleeping Beauty Waltz.

Who gives who away as they walk down the aisle:

Edelgard comes out by herself as emperor, then Ingrid and Hubert escort out Mira.

[dillydedalus]

october reading

i finished my masters thesis this month (yay!) so while i still read quite a lot for escapism i was also operating on no more than 2 braincells at any time, and one of those braincells was just. continuously screaming. so any incoherence or whatever here is. because of that.

i am sovereign, nicola barker a fantastically weird & enjoyable novella about a house-viewing gone wrong that eventually blows up the novella form. i don’t want to give away the meta aspect too much, even tho it’s not entirely unpredictable, but it is so very entertaining and delightful to read. had such a fun time with this. also has a great cover. 4/5

the lifted veil, george eliot i’ve only read middlemarch by eliot, so a 75-page novella about the supernatural sure was... different. it’s fine, but nothing special imo. i enjoyed the first chapter, which sets up latimer, a soft young man with the gift of foresight/telepathy and his fascination with his brother’s fiancee, whose mind remains opaque to him (....twilight???), but the second half is pretty meh. 2/5

the notebooks of malte laurids brigge, rainer maria rilke (read the german obvi) loved the beginning of this, where morbid, too-intense, death-obsessed author-insert malte laurids brigge walks around paris, seeing everyone carry their death with them, which then makes him think of the deaths he has witnessed in his childhood. the parts about his childhood in a danish noble family were also good, but it really lost me with the overtly poetic, weird historical/religious stuff?? feel like this might have been a victim of termin master’s thesis like maybe that’s not the time for poetic, fragmentary, modernist-ish novels. 3/5

wie der soldat das grammofon repariert, saša stanišić (read in german, english translation by anthea bell) i really enjoyed stanišić‘s memoir herkunft last year so i went back to his 2006 classic, about a kid called aleksandar growing up in yugoslavia and eventually fleeing to germany as a refugee during the war. it’s very similar to herkunft in story, although the presentation is very different. honestly overall i found it a bit Too Much, too long & too stylised in its structure. but like, i can see why it’s so popular. 2.5/5

i capture the castle, dodie smith i really liked this! cassandra mortmain is a very strong narrator, the atmosphere of the dilapidated castle and the dysfunctional family are great, & i was surprised by the crushing poverty of the family in the beginning - cassandra obviously attempts to cover this up both in her own head & in her journal, but for much of the first half or so i was genuinely really worried for the kids - and this makes rose so much more sympathetic in her resolution to escape poverty. i was less convinced by the whole love quadrangle this book got going on, but on the whole this was very charming, but often very melancholy in a far deeper way than i expected. 4/5 

the death of vivek oji, akwaeke emezi my second emezi this year, altho sadly neither of them have lived up to the glory of freshwater. this one is about (gender) identity, grief, trauma, love, and solidarity/community based on otherness, which are similar thematically to freshwater, but in a novel that is, i would say, both more stylistically conventional and more hopeful/uplifting (altho it is still very depressing in parts). i enjoyed this on the whole, but it just doesn’t grab you by the throat the way freshwater does, and the reveal/central mystery just feels a bit lacking. 3/5

gott wohnt im wedding, regina scheer listen, this book is probably more competent & historically interesting than literarily great BUT it’s literally (literally) set around the corner from where i live, i know pretty much every single place & business mentioned in it & the house troubles are extremely relatable, if a lot worse than what i am currently experiencing. anyway. this novel is centered around a house in berlin-wedding & the people who live in it & it's about the holocaust & the porajmos, current discrimination against sinti&roma, the history of the wedding, gentrification, familial trauma & all that. it’s very interesting historically, slow but still very readable, and like.... i just really love the wedding! it’s kinda shitty & depressing but i love it!!! 4/5 the only good indians, stephen graham jones note: the elk in this book is not what you, a european, think of as an elk. that’s a moose. anyway, this is a horror novel about four native american men who hunt for elk when, where and how they shouldn’t have and ten years later find themselves pursued by a vengeful elk spirit. i enjoyed this! the scenes where shit goes down were certainly very horrible & gruesome & very sad as well. 3.5/5

solutions & other problems, allie brosh this book really is out there & exists. anyway hyperbole & a half was like, one of my formative internet things and i still love it a lot. this book is second only to the winds of winter in eternally getting pushed back and back and back, so this even getting published was def a pleasant surprise. it’s still really funny, and the weird ugly drawings are still amazingly effective, but this one is. very sad. some really bad shit happened to brosh inbetween and it’s kinda a downer (i mean the first one had the depression saga but this one... is darker). 3.5/5

a supposedly fun thing i’ll never do again, david foster wallace .....i might have to stan dfw, just a little bit. like, i read infinite jest when i was way too young to appreciate it (still traumatised by the uh. creative use of brooms tho) & i have NO intentions of ever rereading it BUT this essay collection was so good that i may just have to read a lot of his other stuff. particular highlights are the title essay, about a cruise journey, and an essay about the illinois state fair, two things that feel particularly fascinating and offputting in equal measure in this year of plague, where even the idea of being in enclosed spaces with many people freaks you out. but i also really appreciated his essays on david lynch & television & fiction, even if i don’t agree with all of his takes. he just has such a good voice! funny, smart, precisely observed but always with a strange spin. 4/5, minus points for too much tennis, but oh well

gruppenbild mit dame, heinrich böll (group portrait with lady) marcel reich-ranicki criticised this book for being, essentially, a sloppy mess and that’s kind of accurate - it’s definitely too long & a bit draggy & böll (and the narrator/“author”) go on tangents and into details with indulgence & abandon, but it’s also... kind of brilliant? the way the “author” collects material and testimony on leni (the lady), her family, coming-of-age and the love affair with a soviet forced labourer that made her an outcast, constructing a documented history of her while leni herself remains ever elusive, the focus on structure, architecture, construction, the endless loops of self-justification (pelzer’s insistance that he is not inhuman, the real estate tycoon’s insistence that they just want what’s best for leni & that her resistance to profit-logic is abnormal)... there’s so much in here, and a lot of it doesn’t need to be there, but a lot of it does. 3.5/5 

sweet fruit, sour land, rebecca ley very lyrical, quiet, feminist climate dystopia. it’s good, well-written, very evocative of hunger and loss, a dystopia but really more about grief and identity, and i read it during the last few days of my master’s thesis and thus have absolutely nothing to say about it. 3.5/5

i also & this will be a shock, dnf’d burning down the haus: punk rock, revolution & the fall of the berlin wall, a book about the east-berlin/german punk subculture. it just felt like a longform essay artificially extended into a 400-page book & the writing was pretty basic in a music bro tries to be deep and like, subversive and shit kinda way. 

[atamascolily]

An Appointment in Sawarra, 7/?

In which Luke has an adventure with Space Customs.

(earlier: one two three four five, six)

Luke had barely disentangled himself from the X-wing's cockpit and put on his translator when a half-dozen figures arrived on the scene. All wore colorful robes in vibrant eye-catching patterns, along with black stiff hats half a meter in length, ornately carved wooden masks, and neon-orange gloves that clashed violently with the rest of their ensemble.

It was hard to see much of the Sawarrans themselves under the voluminous swirl of coverings, let alone many details of age or gender, but their silhouettes and voices were conspicuously human, as was their presence in the Force. What little skin he could see was the darkest shade Luke had ever seen: a rich, deep black with the faintest hint of blue in it. All of the agents were taller than he was, although some of that extra half-meter was due to the elevated bases of their sandals, some of which were impressively high.

The translator itself turned out to be unnecessary, as all six informed him in heavily accented but comprehensible Basic that he was entering sovereign Sawarran territory and as a foreigner, he was required to declare himself at customs before being permitted to enter the station.

Luke groaned inwardly, and sighed. Customs. Right. No escaping bureaucracy. Maybe he should have taken Leia up on her offer of an official diplomatic position instead of coming as a private citizen.

It was tempting to wave his hand and order them to let him pass. Too tempting. Luke gritted his teeth and did his best to ignore the impulse. Luke had grown uncomfortable with using the Force to manipulate others since his time with Joruus C'baoth on Jomark. This unease had only deepened when C'baoth tried to make Luke, Mara, Leia, and the twins his living puppets, molding their wills to his own. His plan hadn't worked, but the slack-jawed, blank look of his own face on C'baoth's clone servant had impacted Luke deeply. Ever since then, he'd been especially reluctant to touch anyone's mind so intimately, let alone for his own casual selfishness.

Besides, he thought sourly, for the trick to work, the target had to be willing to go along--easily distracted, bored, already primed to go along, or  just plain stupid and easily manipulated. Judging from the earnest zeal of the customs agents, he wasn't going to get anywhere with them with anything less than a cudgel--which was far too much like C'baoth's tactics for his taste.

He let the customs agents, led by a tall, stately figure in a wildfire mask, briskly but politely usher him into a sterile but functional waiting room, with a row of cubicles off to the side. Through a thin window-slit in the far wall, custom agents were swarming the X-wing, scanning it for contraband. Luke was glad he hadn't brought Artoo along; the astromech wouldn't have stood for such manhandling of his beloved X-wing and someone would have gotten hurt.

Luke himself was also scanned for illegal substances. He held his breath for a moment when they paused over the bag of uneti seeds at his waste, but the scanner only beeped when it got to his lightsaber, registering it as a weapon. It was duly confiscated over Luke's protests as the agents pointed and whispered among themselves as they passed it from hand to hand, too quiet for his translator to pick up their meaning. Finally, their leader--his wildfire mask expressionless--shrugged and returned the lightsaber to Luke with a bow.  

Satisfied there was nothing harmful in his ship or on his person, Luke was presented with a hard-backed chair, three stylo-pens and a clipboard, along with a four-centimeter high stack of paperwork. Three of agents excused themselves, while the other two retreated to their cubicles and busied themselves with their datapads, shooting surreptitious glances at Luke through their masks when they thought Luke wasn't looking. One of them sported a mask in the shape of a stylized lizard with horns sprouting out of the eyes and nostrils in all directions; the other some sort of fish, surrounded by bright blue waves.

The reason for the sheer number of forms became apparent as Luke examined them more closely. The bottom half of each page was in standard Aurebesh, but the top halves were in a pictographic calligraphy he couldn't even begin to make sense of without an ocular add-on to his translator.

The Sawarrans wanted to know everything about him, from the exact make and model of his ship, the precise length of his planned visit (which Luke left blank), and the purpose of his trip in the first place, which was multiple choice. There were a dizzying array of options, but "tourist" wasn't one of them, and nothing else even remotely applied to his situation.

An entire page was taken up by a stern warning against smuggling contraband, which was defined as "any organic or non-organic substance not approved by the Access Station Sovereign Port Authorities". Luke thought of the uneti seeds in his pocket, undetected by the scanners, but decided he didn't need to declare them since he had no intention of staying here for long. Besides, he couldn’t risk the Sawarrans confiscating them.

"I'm here to deliver a message to a professor at the university on Sawarra, not offload cargo," Luke complained to his minders in annoyance. "Why do I have to do this?"  

The pair shook their head, their expressions unreadable behind their masks, and informed him in unison that he must follow proper protocol and complete all sections of the appropriate forms in order to have his visitation permit approved. Sensing a grim stubbornness in the agents to rival his own, Luke sighed and went back to work.

In the end, he wrote "Jedi Knight" as his occupation, trying and failing not to feel like an imposter. He'd called himself a Jedi many times before, but there was something bald and impersonal about seeing it on written out on the page that didn't come out in casual conversation.

Lizard-head bowed when Luke presented the completed pile of paperwork, and took the stack away with him. Luke sat in the uncomfortable chair and did his best to meditate to calm his frazzled nerves while Fish-face twitched nervously and pretended not to stare at him.

After about twenty minutes, Lizard-head returned, solemnly informing him that there would be an unfortunate delay in processing his paperwork. In the meantime, Luke would be issued a temporary visa and permitted entry to the rest of the station.

"Great," Luke said, taking the little seal the agent offered, and striding for the door. Depending on how fast he could get a message to Dr. Mendoza, maybe he could be on his way back to Coruscant by the time the bureaucrats had finished.

The station itself was small and surprisingly crowded, but that was due more to the cramped conditions than an abundance of visitors. There were more Sawarrans than foreigners, all easily distinguished by the vibrant colors and patterns of their robes, though apparently only the customs agents wore the masks and gloves (for quarantine, Luke realized belatedly). Most of the Sawarrans appeared to be men, though there were a few women who he thought might be prostitutes--they had the same dead-eyed stare he'd seen in other ports of call. Yet if they were prostitutes, they didn't make any overtures or meet his eyes when he passed, which struck him as odd.

He made a beeline for the nearest message kiosk, only to be sternly informed by the veiled attendant who examined Luke's seal that his temporary visa would not allow for messages to the main planet, let alone the university. No amount of cash would convince the vendor to change their mind. Like the agents, the vendor was too stubborn to budge without a major intervention in the Force that probably--<i>probably</i> wasn't worth the effort. Luke sighed and continued on his way.

After three similar exchanges with three different kiosks in succession, a frustrated and confused Luke retreated to the back corner of a dimly-lit bar that appeared to cater entirely to foreigners who appeared as annoyed by this place as he was. His drink was watered-down and tepid, but it dimmed the headache that was threatening to overshadow him and calmed his frazzled nerves.

He didn't understand the rules here, but that was fine, he'd figure it out. His visa would be approved soon enough, and he'd do whatever he had to do to get a message to Karrde's contact. He'd find a way. It was just going to take a little longer than he thought, that was all.

As if on cue, the door to the bar was flung open with a shout as a robed and veiled Sawarran stumbled through in agitation. It was Lizard-head the customs agent, tottering to keep his balance on his raised sandals as he ducked through the doorway.

"YOU!" he shouted in Basic with a dramatic flourish, pointing directly at Luke. "YOU ARE A JEDI?"

So much for keeping a low profile. Everyone in the bar was staring at them, and he didn't like it. He sat up, careful to keep his hands in plain view the entire time. "That's right," he said, and braced himself for... what, he didn't know.

"<i>Come</i>," the agent ordered, and gestured to him. "We must go, go. You are wanted immediately!"

Luke left his half-finished glass on the table, along with what would be a hefty tip if New Republic credits had any value here. That was fast, for processing paperwork, but maybe, just maybe he was in the clear--

Either that or he was in deep trouble.

[lo-lynx]

Dangerous women in His Dark Materials

CW: Sexism, racism

Spoiler warning: spoilers for all of the His Dark Materials book series. Extremely tiny spoiler for The Secret Commonwealth.

In the opening pages of Northern Lights, we meet our heroine Lyra Silvertongue as she sneaks through the collage where she has grown up, to get access to a forbidden room. Her daemon Pan chides her to behave herself, which she, of course, does not listen to; as the lovely hosts of the podcast Girls Gone Canon are fond of saying when anyone says “Lyra, no”, her immediate response is “LYRA YES” (look, I tried to find a specific episode where they say this so I could reference that, but even though I love their podcast I didn’t want to relisten to hours of the podcast just to find that). In many ways, Lyra is perhaps the very definition of the word “willful”. Another early example that the reader gets of her willfulness is in the second chapter of Northern Lights when Lyra’s relationship to the scholars of Jordan Collage is described: “(…) they were men who had been around her all her life, taught her, chastised her, given her little presents, chased her away from the fruit trees in the Garden (…)” (Pullman 2011a, 19). That last part about chasing her away from the fruit trees in the Garden is particularly interesting since it clearly connects Lyra to Eve and the Garden of Even. Later in the story, we find out that Lyra is prophesised to play a sort of Eve 2.0 role, something the Magisterium dreads (Pullman 2011c, 68). I’ve previously written about the power relations in His Dark Materials and their connection to gender and sexuality here. In this essay I want to continue on a similar track, by analysing femininity and female sexuality specifically, and the Magisterium’s view on them.

But before we get into all of that, I want to return to our dear Lyra. When the reader is first introduced to her, she’s disobeying rules, and this is, of course, a theme that continues through the series. Throughout the books, she is constantly doing things she’s not supposed to do, no matter what the adults or institutions around her say. She is at different times described as “half-wild, half-civilised”, “fierce and stubborn”, and having “some nerve” (Pullman 2011a, 19 & 120; Pullman 2011b, 202). Now, this portrayal of a half-wild young girl sounds very similar to the idea of the “willful girl” that Sara Ahmed describes (2017). Ahmed writes that wilful girls show up in all sort of fiction, and one specific example that she gives is the Grimm story called The Willful Child. Ahmed quotes the story in her text, and since I think it is very illustrative of the point both she and I try to make I will do so as well:

Once upon a time there was a child who was willful, and would not do as her mother wished. For this reason God had no pleasure in her, and let her become ill, and no doctor could do her any good, and in a short time she lay on her death-bed. When she had been lowered into her grave, and the earth was spread over her, all at once her arm came out again, and stretched upwards, and when they had put it in and spread fresh earth over, it was all to no purpose, for the arm always came out again. Then the mother herself was obligated to go to the grave, and strike the arm with a rod, and when she had done that, it was drawn in, and then at last the child had rest beneath the ground. (Grimm & Grimm 1884, 125. Quoted in Ahmed 2017, 66)

As Ahmed points out, it is only when the willful child gives up her own will that she can become at peace. Furthermore, Ahmed writes:

Note that the rod, as that which embodies the will of the parent, of the sovereign, is not deemed willful. The rod becomes the means to eliminate willfulness from the child. One form of will judges the other wills as willful wills. One form of will assumes the right to eliminate the others. (Ahmed 2017, 67)

Now, if this doesn’t describe Lyra’s story, I don’t know what does. Ahmed also notes that willfulness is generally a trait which is assigned to girls, while boys are described as “strong-willed” instead, a more positive trait (ibid, 68). This is because girls are generally not supposed to have wills of their own. However, it’s not just girls who are not supposed to have wills of their own, of course. Ahmed also notes that a similar framing was used to describe enslaved and colonised people, who were often positioned as children, and was supposed to obey their master (ibid, 80). Continuing with the theme of the strong arm who breaks expectations, Ahmed references the famous speech Ain’t I a Woman by Sojourner Truth (ibid, 87). For those who don’t know, Sojourner Truth was a former enslaved black woman and abolitionist who in 1851 held a speech at a women’s convention in Ohio (there exist several performances of this speech that you can find online, I would especially recommend this one by Kerry Washington and this one by Alfre Woodard). There she criticised those who said that women should not have rights because they were the so-called weaker sex. It is said that during her speech, she bared her right arm to show her muscles and pointed out that as a formerly enslaved person she was hardly weak. I’ll return to this speech later, but here I’ll just reiterate the point that Ahmed makes: “The arms of the slave belonged to the master, as did the slaves, as the ones who were not supposed to have a will of their own.” (ibid, 87). This, I think, is a point that becomes clear throughout the His Dark Materials. The powerful claim the right to override the will of the marginalised, be it women, people of colour, or other groups. In previous essays, I have written about how this becomes clear with the illusions to eugenics, etc in the series, so I will leave that here for now. But it is important to remember how race and class interact with gender, and I think that if Lyra didn’t have white privilege and class privilege, she would have a much harder time getting away with being so willful.

Now, Ahmed notes in her text, that all of these stories in literature about willful girls really go back to the “first” willful woman, Eve (Ahmed 2017, 70). These other stories:

(…) becomes a thread in the weave of the stories of willful: returning us to Genesis, to the story of the beginning, to Eve’s willful wantonness as behind the fall from Grace. The wilfulness of women relates here not only to disobedience but to desire: the strength of her desire becoming a weakness of her will. (ibid)

Here we see another twist of the willful woman; the woman whose desires overpower her self-control. Having returned to Eve, which I previously noted is deeply connected to Lyra since she’s considered an Eve 2.0 of sorts, it feels necessary to look at how the Magisterium of Lyra’s world sees Eve. The Church in Lyra’s world (in a parallel to our own) teaches that when Adam and Eve ate of the fruit of knowledge in the garden of Eden, their daemons settled, and they start experiencing shame over their bodies (Pullman 2011a, 370). That is of course also the moment sin comes into the world, and the first humans are cast out of the Garden. I’ve previously written about how this has led to the Church wanting to control sexuality and sin (both in our world and Lyra’s world). If possible, they would eradicate sin from the world altogether. As Mrs. Coulter puts it in The Amber Spyglass: “If they could, they’d go back to the garden of Eden and kill Eve before she was tempted.” (Pullman 2011c, 205). The church here puts the blame for humanity’s sinfulness on the first woman, and much like in our world, I would argue that this has been transferred upon women as a whole. As for instance, Yolanda Betata Martín has written, in the middle ages, the church would generally describe female sexuality as particularly sinful, if not outright demonic (for instance by linking it to witchcraft). She writes:

First, the sexuality is perceived as an activity linked exclusively to reproduction and no to sexual pleasure. Second, female sexuality is projected symbolically as a phenomenon endowed with negative connotations and even destructive defined in terms of greed, insatiability and animality. Both beliefs are based more immediate ideological patristic discourse, i.e., in a Discourse of biblical inspiration that projects an image of women deeply misogynist based on the biblical figure of Eve and her role in the Edenic fall. (…) The Discourse gives patristic principles of rationality, morality and intellectuality to men so that women are defined, following the principle of otherness, as irrational, immoral and visceral. This view of feminine nature, supported ideologically on the supposed natural inferiority of women under the Edenic fall, is radicalized throughout the Middle Ages and especially from the thirteenth century. (ibid, 48)

Women are, therefore, simultaneously seen as potentially dangerous and inferior. Sounds familiar? This, I would argue, is not just how Lyra, but perhaps, even more, her mother Mrs. Coulter, is seen by the Magisterium in His Dark Materials.

Now, I’ve pointed out how Lyra most of the time outright goes against the wishes of the adults around her (with some notable exceptions of course, she is Lyra Silvertongue after all, and can be really sneaky). Mrs. Coulter, on the other hand, usually plays into the perception people have of her. In a world where she can only hold a limited amount of official power (she can’t become a priest in the church, and rise in the ranks in that way, for instance), she has been forced to rely on other means (Pullman 2011a, 372). In this patriarchal world it is quite clear that women are generally devalued, I mean, just look at the disdainful way Lyra describes female scholars at the beginning of Northern Lights (ibid, 71). Lyra is however transfixed by Mrs. Coulter’s charms, and to the reader who already knows how she kidnaps children, it is clear that these charms are dangerous too. But to Lyra, and quite a few other people in the story, they are not obviously sinister. Later, in The Amber Spyglass, Mrs. Coulter uses these same charms to trick Metatron (Pullman 2011c, 405). She seduces him, while simultaneously portraying herself as a weak woman. As a reader, you definitely realise by this point, that the Magisterium is right in fearing both Lyra and Mrs. Coulter. To quote Sojourner Truth (see, I said we’d return to her!):

Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.

If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them. (Truth 1851. Quoted in Women’s Rights National History Park n.d.)

Yes, these women will turn the world right-side-up again. They’ll create a world (more) free from religious control, and with more equality.

I want to note, that when Lyra sees the female scholar Dame Hannah Relf again, at the end of The Amber Spyglass, she thinks that Dame Hannah is much more clever, interesting, and kind than she thought before (Pullman 2011c, 515). Perhaps Lyra has just grown up, perhaps she has learned to value women more, I’m not sure. However, Lyra definitely has changed. Later in the same chapter, she is described as defiant but lost by Dame Hannah. I don’t quite have the space to go into Lyra’s changing character later in her life, mainly in The Secret Commonwealth, here but perhaps that’ll be a separate essay one day. However, I think it’s quite clear that Lyra has lost some of her wilfulness and daring (not all of it though). And, if she is to save the world again, then she must regain that. Perhaps that is part of Pullman’s message to his readers; be critical of authorities, be brave, be willful.

As we’ve seen throughout this essay, the patriarchal society in Lyra’s world is fearful of willful girls and women. This fear goes all the way back to their hatred and fear of Eve, and their resentment of her being responsible for humanity’s expulsion from the garden of Eden. As Sojourner Truth puts it, they’ve seen that women are strong enough to turn the world upside down. Therefore women, and their sexuality, must be controlled. It must be demonised, and women must be seen as inferior as to not get too much power. In a way, the Church’s fear is proven correct by the story; the women of the story are able to change the world again. This time to turn it right-side-up.

References

Ahmed, Sara. 2017. Living a Feminist Life. Durham: Durham University Press.

Beteta Martín, Yolanda. 2013. “THE SERVANTS OF THE DEVIL. THE DEMONIZATION OF FEMALE SEXUALITY IN THE MEDIEVAL PATRISTIC DISCOURSE.” Journal of Research in Gender Studies Volume, 3:2, 2013, 48–66.

Pullman, Philip. 2011a. Northern Lights. London: Scholastic.

Pullman, Philip. 2011b. The Subtle Knife. London: Scholastic.

Pullman, Philip. 2011c. The Amber Spyglass. London: Scholastic

Women’s Rights National History Park. n.d. “Sojourner Truth: Ain't I A Woman?” National Park Service. Accessed March 22, 2020. https://www.nps.gov/articles/sojourner-truth.htm