#Election Regiment

[brieftimetravelwhispers]

On 26th October and even before that, Georgian Dream patry decided to steal elections in Georgia. The ruling party decided to strip us from our constitutional right to vote anonymously, they decided to steal our future and steer us back towards USSR, our dark past that promises us dark future.

In the last two years GD party has introduced at least two new laws that were used in Russia in past to solidify Putin's regime. Namely Law against foreign influence, that christens every NGO that is financed from abroad as an agent of foreign influence; and law regarding protecting family values and minors that forbids LGBTQ+ 'propaganda', meaning that symbolism associated to it, as well as literature, art or any kind of public expression that somehow informs about or includes non traditional family values, sexual orientation or gender identity is banned. We can no longer read Oedipus King in university, Sappho, Gilgamesh and many more starting from December, sections from cultural anthropology will be banned as well, and it's simply matter of time before critical skills and knowledge will no longer be reachable. This is authoritarian regime, where everything happens on a whim of one oligarch, what he says is a law for lawmakers, his slaves and he himself is subordinate of russian regiment.

Today, just several minutes ago, 'Parliament' declared itself legitimate, even though members of opposition are rejecting their seats, even though the President doesn't acknowledge fairness of elections, even though constitution clearly says that parliament needs at least 2/3 of deputies to do so. If that is not enough, constitutional court currently is discussing legitimacy of all 150 deputies per the Presidents suit, that automatically pauses working of the new parliament according to the constitution.

Georgia needs desperately to be in spotlight right now. Foreign support is all we have, as court, church, police is corrupt. Police keeps breaking up peaceful demonstations, beating up and jailing protesters, court keeps postponing their hearings as they know that the President, only pro-western institute right now, will use her right to pardon them and she wont be able to do that after her term is up in following months.

We've had painful past, full of protests, bloodshed and fighting for our nations survival. That's what being neighbour to Russia means for us. We won't stop fighting for our future and independence, won't let our ancestors sacrifice to be wasted.

20% of Georgia is occupied by Russia. And even today, there are some people, some georgians who prefer occupants claws, false sense of 'security' to fighting for our freedom.

This is not all, there's lot more that's impossible to fit in one post, for example GDPs pre election promises were pretty alarming, their rhetoric is horrendous, words they use are plain manipulative and dehumanising. They have their own pro government media that is brainwashing people and destroying every critical thinking brain cell. I am angry, I am disappointed and tired and so are hundreds of thousands.

Some sources about the situation:

[ww2yaoi]

Yesterday was quite a day, I mused as I hurried back from the medics: I caught diarrhea and voted for Roosevelt. Now I was bound for the barn on the west side of Uden where we had moved from an outpost in the north several days after returning from Best. The ballot had gone on its way to the States, but I still had the diarrhea; it made me hurry faster. The first platoon had taken over a large barn and made itself at home in the hay. Supposed to be on the M.L.R., we had posted a couple of men on 24-hour guard in the field behind us while we slept on soft hay in thin, one-man sleeping bags which had caught up with us with the last of the regiment’s rear echelon. It was our most comfortable position in Holland. But I couldn't enjoy it, because I had the worst diarrhea I had ever caught in the Army; I couldn't lie still for more than twenty minutes. Cramped and irritable, I had spent most of the day and night running back and forth to the slit-trench latrine behind the barn, with time out for a mile walk to the medics and a dose of sulfa pills. It was all the cooks’ fault, I mused as I came in sight of our quarters. Bastards always were dirty. They kill a cow and butcher it and boil it hard in pasty gravy and call it beef stew. It almost broke my teeth, but the stew wasn't to blame—it was the wash water afterward. Vile as the British seamen on the Samaria, who had set out cold pans of salt water for us to wash our mess kits in, they gave us a single garbage can of soapy water as a battalion rinse. By the time I got to the can, the scum was an inch thick on top. The grease clung to my pan, breeding germs, and gave me diarrhea at the next meal. I had spent last night on the run, unable to enjoy the comforts of my sleeping bag. Well, anyway I had voted. That made me happy. I had to walk almost two miles to cast my ballot, but I would have walked ten, if necessary, because this was my first vote—I was 22 in June—and I had always wanted to cast it for Roosevelt, the greatest President we had ever had and the only one who ever gave the working man a break. Roosevelt had faced and overcome the two great crises America had ever suffered: the worst depression in history and the world’s biggest war. He was a politician, as crafty and conniving as any, for politics is a cesspool of lying lawyers, but his work was greater than the man, and the country was better for it. The rich Republicans hated Roosevelt for helping the working man, for encouraging the labor unions to wring a fair day’s wage for a fair day’s work out of employers who had never heard of such a thing before and for putting into effect fair-employment practices that they considered outrageously Socialistic. Roosevelt helped the unemployed when Herbert Hoover, the last Republican, an engineer who never quite understood humanity, had said, “Let every man help his brother,” when he knew perfectly well that the rich weren't about to help the poor, never had and never would. I had grown up with Republicans and gone to school and college with them, and sickened by their selfishness, their cold avarice and lofty contempt for the common people, had early sworn to vote for the Democrats, who, for all their rotten political faults, were more concerned with the welfare of the country as a whole. Delighted that I had at last fulfilled that ambition, I snapped back to the present when I saw a dozen people standing in front of our barn. A wild-eyed crone was shrieking and cackling at some soldiers while several Dutch children looked on.

David Kenyon Webster, Parachute Infantry, pg. 142-144.

Happy election day, USAmericans! If David Webster can walk two miles with bad diarrhea in an active war zone to vote, so can you!

[whencyclopedia]

Siege of Detroit

The Siege of Detroit (15-16 August 1812) was one of the first major actions of the War of 1812. After a botched invasion of Canada, a US army retreated to Fort Detroit, where it was besieged by British and Native American forces under Major General Isaac Brock and Shawnee chieftain Tecumseh. The Americans quickly capitulated, leaving Detroit in British hands.

Background: March to Detroit

By April 1812, war between the United States and the United Kingdom seemed just over the horizon. On the high seas, British warships had been boarding American merchantmen and impressing American sailors with impunity, while on the northwestern frontier, British agents were believed to be aiding two Shawnee brothers, Tecumseh and the Prophet, in their attempt to form a Native American confederacy and resist US encroachment onto their hunting grounds. In Congress, a clique of belligerent, newly-elected representatives – called 'War Hawks' – clamored for war, despite the reluctance of the general population and the underpreparedness of the military. To prepare for a conflict that seemed increasingly likely, the administration of President James Madison looked to shore up defenses in the northwest, where the US shared a border with British-controlled Canada.

As part of this plan, the Madison administration ordered a new army to be raised in the Michigan Territory and then marched to the outpost of Fort Detroit. William Hull, the 59-year-old governor of the Michigan Territory, was commissioned as a brigadier general and offered the command. Hull, a veteran of the American Revolutionary War, was reluctant to accept – he had, after all, recently suffered a stroke – but his fear of an increase in Native American attacks against Michigan settlers led him to take the command. On 25 May, Hull arrived in Dayton, Ohio, where his makeshift army was being assembled, and was dismayed at what he found. The volunteers were noisy and undisciplined, lacking adequate arms or powder. Organized into three militia regiments, the volunteers insisted on electing their own officers. As such, the men they selected as colonels – Duncan McArthur, James Findlay, and Lewis Cass – were all either politicians or aspiring politicians, men with no military experience.

After a botched army inspection in which Hull was nearly flung from his horse, the army of Ohio volunteers set out on 1 June. Proceeding at a slow pace, they reached the frontier community of Urbana ten days later, where they were joined by Lt. Colonel James Miller and a regiment of regulars, the 4th US Infantry. At Urbana, some of Hull's volunteers refused to go any further, claiming that they had not received the full pay that had been promised to them. Though they were eventually prodded along by Miller's regulars, it was not a promising start. A few days later another incident took place when one militiaman, drunk on moonshine, was startled by a noise in the dark and shot one of his fellow sentries. The man was promptly court-martialed and given the "grotesque sentence" of having his ears cropped and each cheek branded (Berton, 94). The army then marched into the Great Black Swamp, northwest of Ohio, where incessant rainfalls had overflown streams and turned the ground to mud. Meanwhile, they were, unbeknownst to them, being closely watched by Tecumseh's scouts, hiding amongst the trees.

On 26 June, Hull received a letter from the US Secretary of War dated 18 June, warning him that war was imminent and ordering him to get to Detroit "with all possible speed". On 1 July, Hull reached the mouth of the Maumee River where he hired the schooner Cuyahoga and loaded it with anything that was slowing the army down, including his personal dispatches, officers' baggage, extra uniforms, medical supplies, and around 30 sick men. The Cuyahoga then sailed into Lake Erie to transport the supplies to Detroit. The next day, Hull received a second letter from Washington, also dated 18 June, informing him that war had been declared, but it was too late to recall the schooner. As it attempted to enter the Detroit River, the Cuyahoga, carrying Hull's dispatches, was captured by a Canadian vessel. On 5 July, Hull finally reached Detroit, where he was joined by several companies of Michigan militia, bringing his total number to about 2,500 men. Hull, whose army was running dangerously low on supplies, had hoped to find food in Detroit but was disappointed.

Continue reading...

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Camille had his speech leading to the siege of the Bastille, Robespierre was in the estates general and a founder of the Jacobin Club and Marat had his newpaper.

I’m not entirely sure when/why Danton became so popular and influential?

TLDR: Danton gained his first notoriety through his position as president at the Cordelier district.

In Dévinir révolutionnaire dans Paris (2016) Haïm Burstin underlines that, indeed, ”Danton did not participate in the political campaign linked to the convening of the Estates General, nor in the drafting of the cahier of the third estate of his district, nor even in the first insurrectional exploits.” In Danton(1978) Norman Hampson similarily concludes that ”the record of [Danton’s] political activities in the first half of 1789 is a surprising blank.” In July 1789, things do however get going slightly. Both Burstin and Hampson cite the lawyer Christophe Lavaux who in his memoirs (1816) claimed to have seen Danton in the Cordelier District on July 13, basically being Desmoulins 2.0:

I saw my colleague, Danton, whom I had always known as a man of sound judgement, gentle character, modest and silent. What was my surprise at seeing him up on a table, declaiming wildly, calling the citizens to arms to repel 15,000 brigands gathered at Montmartre and an army of 30,000 poised to sack Paris and slaughter its inhabitants. Exhausted with fatigue, Danton calmed down and gave way to another fanatic I went up to him and asked what all the uproar was about; I spoke to him of the calm and security I had seen at Versailles. He replied that I had not understood anything, that the sovereign people had risen against despotism. ”Join us,” he said. “The throne is overturned and your old position is lost. Don’t forget that.”

Then in the night between July 15 and 16, two days after the storming of the Bastille, Danton famously led a company of National Guards from the Cordeliers to the Bastille, kidnapping Soulès, the new governor appointed by the Paris Commune, after he refused to let them in and taking him to the Cordeliers and the Hôtel de Ville where he was ordered released by Lafayette the following morning. Danton’s move was openly dismissed and disapproved of by the authorities but we might imagiene it still bought him some notority.

After this, Danton laid his focus on the Cordelier district of which he is elected president in September 1789, a post he kept up until January 1790. On December 11 1789 we find evidence of the notority he’s gained through this, as we on that day see the district offering a ”solemn testimonial to its beloved president in reply to those who dared to imagiene that he was touting for votes to prolong his presidency and had purchased the unanimous support of the district.” (cited in Hampson, page 36). The documentation of what exactly Danton said and did during this period is however still quite lacking. In his memoirs (1875), Antoine-Clair Thibaudeau claimed to in the evening of October 3 1789 have gone to the Cordelier district and seen Danton presiding ”with the decisiveness, agility and authority of a man who knows his power. He drove the assembly of the District towards his goal. It adopted a manifesto.” The manifesto in question was a fierce denunciation of the king’s decision to summon the Flanders Regiment to protect him at Versailles. In number 47 of Révolutions de France et de Brabant, Desmoulins claimed that Danton on the very same day ”sounded the tocsin at the Cordeliers. On Sunday (October 4) this immortal district posted its manifesto, and from that day on, formed the vanguard of the Parisian army, and would have marched to Versailles, if Mr. Crevecœur, its commander, had not slowed down this martial ardor.” (According to Hampson, the authors behind Révolutions de Paris wrote the same thing, but I can’t find the place he’s referring to).

After this, the Cordeliers concentrayed their fire on the municipal government in Paris, in particular Bailly and La Fayette. On December 26 1789 Danton led a deputation from the Cordeliers to the Commune to denounce Bailly for awarding commissions in the National Guard on his own authority and to allege that the commissions referred to Bailly as Monseigneur (My Lord) in letters. When Bailly showed him that these letters did in fact refer to him as Monsieur, Danton did however profess that he’d made a mistake. Then on January 22 and January 23 1790 he openly takes Marat under protection at the Cordeliers after La Fayette the same day had sent an army of 3000 men to arrest him, giving Marat time to escape. On March 17 an arrest warrant was issued against Danton himself for inciting the district to protect Marat in defiance of the law. In response, the next day 300 Cordeliers signed a petition on Danton’s behalf. The business was referred to the National Assembly that, in Hampson’s words, ”was at least becoming familiar with Danton’s name” and it ended up ruling in his favour.

Unfortunately for Danton, in May 1790 the districts were abolished and Paris divided into 48 sections instead, of which only active citizens could be apart of. The Cordelier district now reinvented itself as the Cordelier club, but it lacked any of the concreate political power the Cordelier district had had. As for Danton, according to L’école révolutionnaire des Cordeliers (2016) by Raymonde Monnier, ”if he has friends in Cordeliers and if they count him as one of their own, as Mathiez writes, his action at the club escapes examination.” Danton instead focused on trying to win municipal power, running for both mayor and procureur in 1790. In both instances be did however face massive losses. In September 1790 his section did however choose him as one of three representatives to serve on the new municipal council. All representatives did need to be endorsed by the sections as a whole, and there, Danton was the only one of 144 councillors to be rejected, by no less than 43 of 48 sections. Hampson writes the following about this, cementing that Danton at this point was somewhat famous:

This certainly indicated that he had acquired a Parisian reputation, but not one that looked like doing him any good. The election results showed that there was something special about Danton.

[marzipanandminutiae]

In case you are interested in further museum horror stories, I was not working there, but here it goes: a small kid, aged about 24 months, was left to roam free by their parents, who were very obnoxiously taking pictures of themselves with some of the objects on display as if this were a professional shoot. This was on a tour, mind, so they were not only being a tad annoying, their behaviour was not very polite, too, given the tour guide was talking to the group. Their kid was extremely noisy, running around and at one point, went straight for their mother's legs and hugged her from behind, causing her to almost stumble into a huge 18th century silver tankard due to the unexpected force of the child crashing into the back of her knees. The entire room seemed to gasp, anticipating to become witnesses in a high-stakes insurance claim and police investigation. Now, this was a special event guided tour with a costumed interpreter in full 18th century Prussian regimentals, who, looking at the concerned face of the museum worker close by, and the annoyed ones of the visitors, took charge of the situation: he used his walking stick to point at the child in one astonishingly swift motion and grumbled something like "You! Eh, children...", giving the parents a very dirty look. The funniest thing was, this was the moment he seemed to be most believably in character. The little one turned to their mum, buried their face in her leg and remained quiet for the rest of the tour. I feel a little bad for the child, who should clearly have been better supervised (or not brought along to a tour for older children and adults at all) but I hope it was a lesson to the parents. You don't get to be the focus of negative attention by an 18th century king in full dress uniform every day, after all.

Good for him.

You're right, though, I will say- that's on the parents. If you can't find a babysitter or think your two-year-old will get something out of the museum (hey, start 'em young!), it is now your job to run interference on that two-year-old. You don't get to take Instagram pics if you elected to bring a toddler to the Fragile Priceless Artifacts Zone.

Like I said in an earlier ask, I've honestly had more issues with adults than kids only a little bit older than that and up. Children are used to hearing "don't do this" and following directions. Adults are more likely to think "why?" and even after having it explained, "that doesn't apply to me."

Most people of all ages are fine in museums, to be clear! It's just the small number of jerks that stick out in one's mind.

[sgtgrunt0331-3]

U.S.Marines from Echo Company, 2nd Battalion, 8th Marine Regiment, come under Taliban fire at Mian Poshte on July 3, 2009, during Operation Khanjar, intended to clear the Helmand Valley in preparation for the Afghan presidential election.

(Photo by David Furst/AFP)

[alainamama17]

The Perilous Path from Willful Ignorance to the Erosion of Democracy

Democracy thrives on the informed consent of its citizens. It is a system of governance that is rooted in the principle of collective decision-making, with the understanding that the electorate is knowledgeable and capable of making decisions that uphold the common good. However, when willful ignorance becomes prevalent within a society, the very pillars of democracy begin to crumble, paving the way for authoritarianism and, in its most extreme form, fascism.

Willful ignorance is the deliberate choice to ignore facts, dismiss expert opinions, and reject the evidence that challenges one’s preconceived notions. It is a conscious decision to remain uninformed or misinformed. This stance is not only a refusal to engage with reality but also a rejection of the responsibility that comes with democratic participation. When a significant portion of the electorate chooses this path, the consequences are dire.

The first casualty of willful ignorance is the truth. In a democracy, the truth is the currency of discourse, the basis upon which policies are debated and leaders are held accountable. When the truth is devalued, misinformation and propaganda flourish. Demagogues, who are adept at exploiting fears and prejudices, find fertile ground to sow division and discord. They present themselves as the sole bearers of truth, promising simple solutions to complex problems. Their rhetoric is seductive to those who have chosen to shield themselves from the complexities of the world.

As these demagogues gain power, the institutions that are the bedrock of democracy—free press, independent judiciary, and open elections—come under attack. The demagogue’s narrative is one of us versus them, where dissent is portrayed as disloyalty. Willful ignorance allows such narratives to take root, as it creates a populace that is less likely to question authority and more likely to accept the erosion of their freedoms in exchange for the illusion of security and order.

The transition from democracy to authoritarianism is often gradual. It begins with the undermining of trust in institutions and the normalization of attacks on those who bring inconvenient truths to light. Over time, the checks and balances that prevent the concentration of power are weakened. The rule of law is replaced by the rule of the leader, and the democratic process becomes a mere facade.

In its most extreme form, willful ignorance can lead to the rise of fascism—a system of governance characterized by dictatorial power, forcible suppression of opposition, and strong regimentation of society and the economy. Fascism thrives on the vilification of the “other” and the glorification of a mythical past. It requires a populace that is willing to trade its autonomy for the promise of national greatness.

In conclusion, willful ignorance is not just a personal failing; it is a societal hazard. It is the antithesis of the informed citizenry required for a healthy democracy.

[aimeedaisies]

The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in June 2024

04/06 As Master of the Corporation of Trinity House, attended the Trinitytide Anniversary Annual Court Meeting, Church Service and Luncheon. 💼⛪️🍽️

As Colonel-in-Chief, The Royal Corps of Signals, this afternoon inspected The Queen’s Gurkha Signals Regiment on public duties at St James’s Palace. 🫡

As Chairman of the International Olympic Committee Members Election Commission, held a Members Election Commission Meeting at St James’s Palace. 💼

05/06 With Sir Tim As Colonel-In-Chief of The Royal Regina Rifles, unveiled a statue and attended a Reception at 10 Place des Canadiens, Thue et Mue, Bretteville. 🇬🇧🇫🇷🇨🇦

With Sir Tim Attended a service of commemoration and reception to mark the 80th anniversary of the D-Day Landings at Bayeux War Cemetery. 🪦🪖

With Sir Tim As President of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, attended the Annual Service in Bayeux Cathedral to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the D-Day Landings. ⛪️

With Sir Tim As President of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, attended a service to commemorate the 80th Anniversary of the D-Day Landings at Bayeux War Cemetery. 🪦🕯️

06/06 With Sir Tim Attended the Annual Founder’s Day Parade at the Royal Hospital Chelsea. 💂

As Colonel of The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons), attended a Household Cavalry Council Meeting at Hyde Park Barracks. 🐎

07/06 Opened Forest of Dean Community Hospital. 🏥

Visited Ruskin Mill Trust in Nailsworth. 🏫

09/06 Attended the Bramham International Horse Trials Prize Giving, on its 50th anniversary. 🏇🏼

11/06 Opened Mercator Media Limited’s 25th Anniversary Seawork Marine Exhibition in Southampton. ⛴️

As Patron of the British Nutrition Foundation, visited the British Armed Forces Nutrition Programme at The Royal Logistic Corps Regimental Museum in Winchester. 🍏🍊

As Patron of Farms for City Children, and Past Master of the Worshipful Company of Butchers, attended a Festival of Learning at Butchers’ Hall. 🥩🥓🍖

Unofficial Sir Tim attended a reception at the King Edward VII Hospital and unveiled a plaque dedicated to Sir Jameson Boyd Adams. 🍾

With Sir Tim As Royal Fellow of the Royal Academy of Engineering, attended The Prince Philip Fund Commemoration Dinner at Prince Philip House. 🍽️🍾

12/06 On behalf of The King, held an Investiture at Windsor Castle. 🎖️

As Chancellor of the University of London, attended the School of Advanced Study 30th Anniversary Reception at Senate House. 📚📖

As President of The Duke of Edinburgh’s Commonwealth Study Conferences, attended a Dinner. 🍽️🗺️

13/06 As Patron of Transaid, visited the Multimodal 2024 Exhibition. 🛻

As Patron of the Townswomen’s Guilds, attended the Annual General Meeting. 💼

As Patron of the Foundation for Future London, attended the UK Cultural Exchange launch. 🇬🇧🗺️

With Sir Tim As President of the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, attended a President’s Panel Discussion and Dinner. 🎤🍽️

14/06 Presided over a conference attended by the Colonels of the Regiments of the Household Division. 💂

Cavalry Regiments

Blues and Royals - Princess Anne

The Life Guards - Non - Royal

Footguards

Grenadier Guards - Queen Camilla

Coldstream Guards - Non - Royal

Scots Guards - Prince Edward

Irish Guards - Catherine, Princess of Wales

Welsh Guards - Prince William

Reserves

London Guards - Prince Edward

15/06 With Sir Tim Trooping the Colour

17/06 With Sir Tim Attended a chapter of the Most Noble Order of the Garter in the Throne Room, Windsor Castle. 🏰

With Sir Tim Attended a luncheon, hosted by the King, at Windsor Castle. 🍽️

With Sir Tim Attended an Installation Service was held in St George’s Chapel at which The Duchess of Gloucester was installed as a Lady of the Most Noble Order of the Garter. 🪽🎖️

18/06 unofficial Attended day one of Royal Ascot. 🏇🏼

19/06 unofficial Attended day two of Royal Ascot. 🏇🏼

20/06 unofficial With Sir Tim Attended day three (Ladies Day) of Royal Ascot. 🏇🏼

21/06 With Sir Tim Attended the RNLI Beating Retreat, Reception and Dinner at the Old Royal Naval College in Greenwich. 🛟🥂🍽️

22/06 With Sir Tim As Patron of the Eric Liddell 100, attended a Service in St Giles’ Cathedral, followed by a Reception to commemorate 100 years since Eric Liddells Olympic gold medal win. 🥇

~ Engagements cancelled due to hospitalisation ~

Total official engagements for Anne in June:

2024 total so far:

Total official engagements accompanied by Tim in June:

2024 total so far:

FYI - due to certain royal family members being off ill/in recovery I won't be posting everyone's engagement counts out of respect, I am continuing to count them and release the totals at the end of the year.

[fandomtrumpshate]

FTH 2023 Wrap-Up

Boy has it been a year, guys.

This seemed like the year when anything that could go wrong did, from covid to family emergencies to work obligations to software bugs. We're so grateful to you all for your patience and for coming back year after year to remind us why we do this.

Historically, non-election years have usually seen slumps in both our number of auctions and our donation totals. But this year? You guys blew us away yet again.

We had just as many auctions as last year, which is amazing. But even beyond that: our donation total —just 10% lower than last year's massive record— is 150% higher than our third best year, making it a very close second.

So are you ready for this year's grand total?

This year

thanks to all of you

FTH raised...

$47,361.75!

Which brings our seven-year total to

$239,507.86

Thank you so much to our 616 creators who offered 800+ auctions in over 400 different fandoms and subfandoms, and to everyone who bid! Also a special shoutout to our record 17 crafters who raised over $2500 of this - three times as much as any of our previous craft bazaars!

Your returning mods (@porcupine-girl, @captainbunnicula, @tiltedsyllogism, @anyawen, and @renjunbabygirl) would also like to give our heartfelt thanks to this year's two additions to the mod team, @trickybonmot (who has been a mod before but was returning after several-year absence) and @a-still-small-vox (who is brand new to this whole thing). Given everything that went down this year, the auction literally could not have happened without them. They've been ridiculously awesome.

Creators, be sure you contact your bidders by April 1, and bidders, on your end please respond to their communication by April 15!

Once the fanwork is posted, let us know via our form (can you believe six creators have already finished??) and if you're posting it on AO3 be sure to add it to the Fandom Trumps Hate 2023 collection. If you're writing a fic for FTH and need help from our Regiment of Fan Laborers, email us!

As always, we hope that for at least some people, your involvement in FTH will lead to continued action throughout the year. Sign up for our organizations' email lists, check out their volunteer opportunities, and help boost their signals on social media!

And if you'd like to run your own fanworks auction for a good cause, we can help get you started! Contact us at fandomtrumpshate at gmail.com and we can send you our auction playbook, as well as answer any questions you have about our process.

Your mods are going to be going into post-auction hibernation mode (or, for most of us, post-auction deal-with-all-this-other-stuff mode) for a little while. So if you email us, don't panic if we don't get back to you immediately! We will start actively monitoring the inbox again by April 15 at the latest.

Here is a quick snapshot of the donations to individual organizations - see below the cut for all of the totals!

We hope to see you all again next year!

Amounts raised for each of our individual orgs:

TLDEF $8,594.5 (18.15%) DigDeep/Navajo Water Project $7,037 (14.86%) Rainbow Railroad $5,970 (12.61%) Sherlock’s Homes Foundation $3,169.5 (6.69%) Life After Hate $3,069.75 (6.48%) Never Again Action $3,062.75 (6.46%) Citizens’ Climate Education $2,235 (4.72%) Xerces $2,103 (4.44%) Razom $2,101 (4.43%) Violence Policy Center $1327 (2.80%) NNtEDV $1,157.75 (2.44%) The Appeal $935 (1.97%) Other organizations (that aren’t abortion funds) $1,151 (2.43%)

All abortion funds $5,468.50 (11.54%) Indigenous Women Rising $2,073 (4.43%) other abortion funds $1,184.50 (2.50%) Abortion Fund of Ohio $963 (2.03%) KY Health Justice Network $634 (1.34%) New Orleans Abortion Fund $349 (.74%) Buckle Bunnies $240 (.51%)

[yousadclownofaman]

Whipstitch Whitehall, Western Transplant & Settlement Leader.

Im embarrassed that I haven’t posted all my new fallout characters yet…this is Whipstitch Whitehall, from Vault 49 out in OK originally, but she’s made her way through to the Commonwealth & has made a living setting up small communications relays between settlements in the northern Commonwealth. She’s got a little arms dealing business on the side but that’s for later, details under the cut!

Vault 49 was established under a private airstrip used for politicians & eccentric billionaires living in the Four Corners region of the pre-war western United States. With a focus on preparedness and wilderness training, Vault Tec’s plan for 49 was to initially shock the well-to-do political class into a proverbial state of “freeze-fight-or-flight” following the inevitable nuclear apocalypse. Herded into Vault 49 alongside these social elites were a selection of local farming families chosen by a quad-state area Super Duper Mart raffle, who would be dispersed throughout the same living quarters as their former governors & elected officials. Intermarrying was highly encouraged, and living standard incentives were even instituted in the early phases of Vault Tec’s V49 Overseer Agenda to establish families of mixed parentage; results were mixed for several short generations, but Vault 49 eventually came to be known in the middle territories as one of the more successful experiments surviving into the new post-nuclear landscape.

Much of the senatorial & gubernatorial class died out in the first few decades; pampered lifestyles with extensive robotic assistance led to a group that could not handle the stressors of Vault life. Those few hardier families who could handle themselves mingled with the general population & within 2-3 generations Vault-Tec Overseer reports would have been full of rigorous training regiments, roll call counts, test scores and biometric data. The program for V49 dictated that all inhabitants be trained in extensive wilderness preparedness (akin to pre-war Eagle Scout programs) for the first 150 years after initial sealing—after which control over the vault’s main door would be relinquished to the current Overseer via a Vault-Tec official password transfer. With the Overseer’s discretion the main door would be allowed to open whenever necessary, and a system of scouting parties would be established shortly after. Phase 2 of Vault-Tec’s program would come into effect here.

Whipstitch’s parents were both particularly talented community leaders; her mother was head technician in the V49 Water Processing Plant, and her father was on the Science & Exploration Board for several years before they had little ‘Stitch. She grew up as a talented target shooter, an excellent swimmer, and with a propensity for tinkering which carried her through V49 “Blue Ranger” training; a gauntlet designed to harden potential scouting party members. Whipstitch took her chance when she could to leave the vault and see the greater world, only bits of which she’d seen previously from others’ scavenging hauls—and never came back. She feels pangs of guilt from time to time when the skies hang red with radiation storms, reminding her of the dusty prairie sky back in O-Kay. Stitch took all those skills from V49 and trained up her people skills along the way, managing to gain some small notoriety as a handy builder/engineer & quite nifty with small energy weapons.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Thanks Derek Plummer

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 14, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Oct 15, 2024

As the two presidential campaigns position themselves for the final sprint to the election on November 5, the difference between them is dramatic. 

Trump is hunkering down behind what has always appeared to be a plan not to attract voters but instead to create chaos on Election Day. Creating confusion around the election could enable his loyalists to put in place the plan the Trump team concocted in 2020 to throw the election into the House of Representatives or get it before the Supreme Court, stacked as it is with Trump loyalists. 

A central piece of that plan appears to be to rile up his supporters to violence, and a few of them have been delivering. News broke yesterday that the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) had advised federal emergency workers to evacuate Rutherford County, North Carolina, which was hit hard by Hurricane Helene, because of concerns about their safety after Trump and MAGA Republicans spread the false rumor that federal agents are forcing people off their land to start lithium mining projects. The alert came after the U.S. Forest Service sent an email to federal responders saying that National Guard troops had encountered armed militia saying they were “hunting FEMA.” FEMA officials will no longer go door-to-door with disaster assistance, but instead will stay in fixed locations. 

A man has been arrested and charged with threatening FEMA workers with an assault rifle. He was released on a $10,000 bond.

To the extent Trump or his running mate Ohio senator J.D. Vance talks about them, their policies are promises to repair what they insist is the damage caused by President Joe Biden (although the stock market hit record highs again today), or threats that reinforce an authoritarian Christian nationalist worldview. Today, Bill Barrow of the Associated Press explored the extensive overlap of Project 2025 from the Heritage Foundation and other right-wing groups and the plans that Trump and Vance have set out. 

Both promise to cut taxes for the wealthy, but Project 2025 has more detail about how. Both plan to cut off immigration and to fire federal workers, replacing them with loyalists. Both say the president can decide not to use the money Congress has appropriated (in 2019, Trump refused to disburse the money Congress had appropriated for Ukraine until Ukraine president Volodymyr Zelensky agreed to smear Trump’s chief Democratic rival for the presidency, Joe Biden). Both call for slashing government regulations and getting rid of diversity, equity, and inclusion programs as well as protections for LGBTQ+ individuals and programs addressing climate change. 

But perhaps most revealing of both Trump’s ideology and his plan for the election was his statement to Fox News Channel host Maria Bartiromo on Sunday that he would like to use the military against what he called “the enemy from within…radical left lunatics" to guard the election. While this is a threat to use the power of the government against his political opponents if he is elected—he mentioned California representative and Senate candidate Adam Schiff by name—it also seems likely his loyalists will hear this as a call for violence at election sites. 

Trump’s statement has not gone unnoticed. 

Tonight, CNN’s The Lead with Jake Tapper posted a dictionary definition of the word “fascism”: “A populist political philosophy, movement…that exalts nation and often race above the individual, that is associated with a centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, and that is characterized by severe economic and social regimentation and by forcible suppression of opposition.” 

On the show, Tapper pressed Republican Virginia governor Glenn Youngkin to comment on Trump’s statement that as commander-in-chief, he would use the military against political opposition. When Youngkin denied that Trump had said any such thing, Tapper replied: “I’m literally reading his quotes to you.” Youngkin’s willingness to deny what was right in front of him did not exactly quell talk of fascism, since in his dystopian novel 1984 about authoritarianism, George Orwell famously wrote: “The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.”

If Trump is hunkering down, Democratic presidential nominee Vice President Kamala Harris and her running mate Minnesota governor Tim Walz are still pushing ahead, pressing Trump on both his personal weakness and his now open embrace of fascism. Harris’s advisor Ian Sams went on the Fox News Channel today to note that it’s been a month since Trump “did a mainstream media interview, and we got to wonder why. We called this weekend for him to release his medical records…. Donald Trump’s team, I heard him on your air last hour insisting that everything is okay and that…there’s nothing to see here. And your anchor rightly asked, ‘Well, if that’s true, why not just put them out?’” 

At 1:12 this morning, Trump posted on his social media site: “I believe it is very important that Kamala Harris pass a test on Cognitive Stamina and Agility. Her actions have led many to believe that there could be something very wrong with her.” Sams hit that as well, noting that in the middle of the night, Trump felt obliged to write about Harris and a cognitive test “[a]s he refuses to release his medical records, sit with 60 Minutes, or debate her again—instead retreating solely to rambling rallies where he’s increasingly making no sense[.] Is he okay?” 

In Erie, Pennsylvania, today, Harris outlined how her proposals for an “opportunity economy” will help Black men, calling for business loans for entrepreneurs, more apprenticeships, rules for cryptocurrency exchanges, and study of diseases that disproportionately affect Black men. 

She also continues her outreach to Republicans. Today, former Trump friend and talk show host Geraldo Rivera endorsed her. So did former Wisconsin Republican state senate majority leader Dale Schultz. “I tell people, ‘Look, I didn’t leave the party. The party left me,’” he said. “This is a critically important race, and…Donald Trump should never be allowed in the Oval Office again.”

Today Harris’s campaign announced she will be sitting down with Fox News Channel reporter Bret Baier for an interview on Wednesday from the battleground state of Pennsylvania. The Fox News Channel is scheduled to tape a town hall with Trump in front of an audience of women on Tuesday. It is supposed to air on Wednesday morning, while the Harris interview will air Wednesday night.  

At a rally in Erie, Pennsylvania, tonight, Harris reiterated Trump’s refusal to talk to any but the right-wing media and recalled his promise to terminate the Constitution. And then she used Trump’s own words against him, playing a video montage of Trump’s calls for violence, his threats against “the enemy within,” and his call for using the military against his political opponents. 

“You heard his words, coming from him,” she told the audience. “[H]e considers anyone who doesn’t support him or who will not bend to his will an enemy of our country…. He’s saying that he would use the military to go after them…. And we know who he would target because he has attacked them before. Journalists whose stories he doesn’t like. Election officials who refuse to cheat by…finding extra votes for him. Judges who insist on following the law instead of bending to his will. This is among the reasons I believe so strongly that a second Trump term would be a huge risk for America, and dangerous…. Donald Trump is increasingly unstable and unhinged. And he is out for unchecked power, that’s what he’s looking for.”

In Oaks, Pennsylvania, tonight, Trump was supposed to take questions from preselected attendees at a town hall with South Dakota governor Kristi Noem. He did, at first, although his answers were all over the place and he urged people to vote on January 5. But then, in the hot and crowded space, two people needed medical attention. Slurring, Trump then said: “Let’s not do any more questions. Let’s just listen to music. Let’s make it into a music. Who the hell wants to hear questions, right?” And then he stood on stage and swayed for 39 minutes of songs from his personal playlist before seeming to recall that he was supposed to be talking about the election, which he suddenly told the confused crowd was “the most important election in the history of our country” before turning back to the music.

Rob Crilly of the U.K.’s The Daily Mail wrote: “I was at Trump's golden escalator launch, flew out of Washington with him in 2020 and have probably been to 100 rallies, give or take. Have never seen anything like tonight.” The headline over Marianne LeVine’s Washington Post story about the event read: “Trump sways and bops to music for 39 minutes in bizarre town-hall episode.

“The scene comes as Vice President Kamala Harris has called Trump, 78, unstable and called into question his mental acuity.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[nesiacha]

The Life of the Hébertist Charles Philippe Ronsin: From Playwright to Chief General of the Revolutionary Army

Charles Philippe Ronsin was born on December 1, 1751, to a master cooper in Soissons. According to Maurice Chartier, who draws on the work of General Herlaut, Ronsin may have been born into an affluent family and received an education. However, it is unclear whether he was a brilliant student, as Jacob Louis suggests, since various successive wars led to the loss of archives.

He enlisted in the army at the age of 17, in the Aunis regiment, but after four years, he left. Why? Maurice Chartier speculates that Ronsin realized the future of a commoner in the army of the Old Regime did not meet his youthful expectations. He instead sought success as a playwright. Unlike other future revolutionaries such as Collot d’Herbois or Fabre d’Eglantine, Ronsin did not achieve the success he hoped for. His works, including Hecuba and Polyxena, were staged by the Committee of Actors, but his next play, Sédécias, was rejected in December 1783. He is believed to have married before the Revolution, but the identity of his first wife, as well as what happened to her—whether they divorced or she became a widow—remains a mystery. Ronsin's past is, in many ways, shrouded in uncertainty.

He mingled in artistic and literary circles and became friends with the painter David. Ironically, his greatest successes would come in the army during the French Revolution, even though he had initially left the military for a career in theater.

Like many revolutionaries, Ronsin's involvement in the Revolution began in 1789 when he was elected captain of the National Guard of the Saint-Roch district. He quickly joined the Jacobin and Cordelier clubs and began forging friendships with figures such as Danton and Marat. Georges Lefebvre describes him as a diligent figure.

From 1792, following the fall of the monarchy, Ronsin played an increasingly significant role. He had joined the Théâtre-Français section, which played an important role during the storming of the Tuileries in 1792. He co-wrote a pamphlet with Murville in honor of the citizens killed on August 10, 1792. He was appointed commissioner of the Executive Council. Under the orders of Minister of War Pache (affiliated with the Hébertists), Ronsin was sent to Belgium to oversee the dubious Dumouriez (whose treachery would later be confirmed). He denounced the corruption of Dumouriez’s suppliers. Gaspard Monge then entrusted him with a mission in the North. When Bouchotte took over as Minister of War, Ronsin's career soared. This was the period when the Exagérés faction gained popularity and became a political force in the National Assembly (where the Enragés were more influential in the sections, especially in the Gravilliers section, but struggled to gain representation).

On February 14, 1793, Pache was elected mayor of Paris with 11,881 votes out of 15,191 voters. Bouchotte, seen as close to the Hébertists (even if he later distanced himself from them), reorganized the patriots' strongholds. As Renaud Faget points out, "The result of this policy was a significant increase in the number of employees: they were 453 in April 1793 and 1800 when Bouchotte was ousted." Pierre Gaspard Chaumette, the prosecutor of the Commune of Paris, and Hébert, his deputy, along with Vincent as the Secretary General of the Ministry of War in April 1793, filled the Ministry with Cordeliers members and sent people like Momoro to Vendée. They were the "stars" of the Cordeliers club, one of the most powerful at the time, and enjoyed a certain level of popularity.

Ronsin was appointed as deputy to the Minister alongside Xavier Audouin (an important Hébertist who later became a neo-Jacobin under the Directory) and Prosper Sijeas. His most important rise came in Vendée, where he quickly ascended from captain and logistics officer for the army to brigadier general, eventually becoming the chief general of the Revolutionary Army of Paris by the end of his life. Ronsin played a key role in the rise of General Rossignol. His rapid ascent was met with hostility from some, particularly the Indulgents, one of whom, Philippeaux, became one of his principal adversaries. Ronsin broke with Danton (possibly since the Dumouriez affair—this hypothesis requires further study). In any case, in Vendée, he reunited with his friend Momoro, who had been sent on a mission, likely with Vincent’s involvement.

The tactics used in the Vendée, particularly in the battle for Rigué, have been widely criticized (to put it mildly). The report by Momoro and Ronsin states: "We don’t doubt that a large number of complaints were addressed to the National Convention…[regarding this tactic]; the malevolent men only condemn these measures, which, as rigorous as they are, may alone create disorder in the brigands' army and finish a cruel war." It is evident that Ronsin and Momoro committed unforgivable mistakes in Vendée as I said here about Momoro https://www.tumblr.com/nesiacha/759184374456549376/momoros-serious-fault?source=share

Another major failure associated with Ronsin was in Lyon. He spent less than a month there and was politically aligned with Collot d'Herbois. It remains unclear to what extent Ronsin can be held responsible for the massacre in Lyon (the execution of Lyonnais citizens by cannon and disproportionate executions). However, it is known that he approved of it, as he wrote: "The guillotine and the firing squad have brought justice to over 400 rebels, but a new revolutionary commission has just been established, composed of true sans-culottes; my colleague Parein is its president, and in a few days, the artillery fire from our gunners will have rid us, in one instant, of over 4000 conspirators. It is time to shorten the process." Upon his arrival in Lyon, Ronsin wrote: "The revolutionary army entered the city on the 5th of Frimaire... Terror was painted on every face, and the deep silence I had recommended to our brave soldiers made their march even more threatening, more terrifying."

It is still difficult to know whether Ronsin directly participated in the violence in Lyon, but like many other revolutionary actors, he can be held responsible for not disapproving of it, especially since he witnessed it. That others like Turreau, Barras, Fréron, and Fouché were more corrupt than Ronsin does not absolve him of responsibility.

Despite this, Ronsin suffered from a notorious black legend, like many Hébertists, and was even demonized more than Robespierre himself. In truth, his rise was deserved because he was a competent and honest administrator who did not profit from his position. He was defamed by figures like Desmoulins, yet according to Lefebvre, Ronsin lived and died poor. He was a courageous and diligent soldier. While he was one of the leaders of the Hébertist faction (although, in reality, it was primarily Ronsin and Momoro who led the Exagérés, as Hébert backed down during critical moments, while Ronsin and Momoro went all the way), it is important to note that unlike Momoro, who primarily defended social rights and even advocated for shared agrarian property rights, Ronsin championed a radical revolution—though his views were underdeveloped—that aligned him more with the Cordeliers at that time, who were close to the Hébertists.

Lefebvre acknowledges Ronsin's flaws, noting that he could be arrogant and violent in his language. However, it was the danger facing the Republic that pushed him to adopt such an attitude, rather than any shameless ambition or opportunism (like his "friend" Turreau). I wonder if Ronsin’s break with Danton, particularly after the Dumouriez affair, did not make him more radical, along with the infernal situation of the time. Although Ronsin may not have had the military genius of Kleber or Jourdan, he was certainly competent for his rank.

Upon his return to Paris, Ronsin became one of the leaders of the Exagérés faction. In December 1793, he and his friend Vincent were arrested, notably on the proposal of Fabre and Philippeaux. They were released under pressure from the Cordeliers. This episode is detailed here. This certainly did not help with any reconciliation with the CPS (Committee of Public Safety), especially since the CSG (Committee of General Security) pointed out that there was no evidence against them. Additionally, other Hébertists had been arrested and then released. However, aside from the episode concerning the abolition of slavery, where most set aside their grudges, it seems that reconciliation was impossible. Personally, I think the faults are shared between the Indulgents, the Committee of Public Safety, the Convention, and the Hébertists.

The poverty of the Parisian working class during the winter must not have helped ease tensions, particularly for people like Momoro, who prioritized the fight (with the black market and some speculators, things probably worsened). As I’ve mentioned before, the tension was so high that the Cordeliers were preparing an insurrection attempt. Momoro presided over it and draped the Declaration of the Rights of Man in black. Ronsin supported and demanded it. Vincent followed this line of action. Hébert did as well, until he tried to backtrack when he realized that the attempt might fail. Chaumette, Pache, and Hanriot refused.

They took Carrier as an ally for this insurrection attempt, who had been recalled from Nantes for his drownings. Collot d'Herbois, pragmatically, tried to reconcile, as he was close to some points of Ronsin’s politics. Here is an excerpt from Michel Biard’s book on Collot d'Herbois:

"The Jacobin session of the 16th of Ventôse was almost entirely devoted to these declarations. In the absence of Robespierre and Couthon, who were ill, as well as Billaud-Varenne and Jeanbon Saint-André, who were on missions, Collot d'Herbois was the only member of the Committee who regularly attended the Society. It was he who went up to the tribune to denounce the behavior of the Cordelier leaders, using much firmer language than that reserved earlier for Desmoulins and those like him who were merely 'lost.' Here, if the Cordeliers were in the same situation, the leaders were nevertheless labeled as plotters, and Collot mentions the fate of Jacques Roux, who had also 'seduced' the Cordeliers and whom the Committee had had imprisoned.”

"And, in a final attempt at reconciliation, the Jacobins decided to send a delegation, led by Collot d'Herbois, to preach unity to the Cordeliers. Hébert, Ronsin, and other leaders took the walk of Canossa and, in front of the Jacobin delegation, claimed that their words had been misrepresented and that the fraternity between the two societies was not in question. Did Collot d'Herbois sincerely believe in this rather clumsy reconciliation? If there was any real illusion, it was quickly dispelled. New threatening speeches from Vincent, the discovery of anonymous posters calling for insurrection, the return of Robespierre, Billaud, and Couthon to the Committee... all of these factors led to the final decision. The Committee opted for a preventive strike. On the night of the 22nd to the 23rd of Ventôse, Hébert, Vincent, Ronsin, and other 'suspects' were arrested."

Carrier escaped this arrest because he retracted, likely sensing the change in the political wind (and I wonder if his initial support for the insurrection was opportunistic). Contrary to what the black legend of the Hébertists suggests, they did not intend to massacre the Convention but rather to recreate a day like June 2, 1793, probably by eliminating political figures such as Barère (though, of course, that would still have been illegal). During this tumultuous period, there were even “anthropophagist” inscriptions with Robespierre’s name. Elsewhere, there were posters from the Cordeliers’ Club declaring that Fabre d'Églantine, Camille Desmoulins, and a few others had lost their trust. Another was a clear call for insurrection: "Sans-culottes, it is time. Strike the general call and ring the tocsin, arm yourself and let it not be long, for you see that they are pushing you to your last breath." Other messages had a clearly royalist tone, such as one found on a public building: "Death to the Republic! Long live Louis XVII."

Those who sought to eliminate the Hébertists would mix the judgment of the faction with dubious characters. There were false rumors of plundering involving Momoro (I’ve learned, as I study law, that nowadays, sometimes, in order to discredit those being judged, some accusation files violate legal procedures and leak false information to the press to ensure the suspect loses sympathy; I wonder if they used the same method then). They were accused of "plotting with foreigners." The wives of Hébert and Momoro were arrested, and later, Ronsin's wife, according to the memoirs of Jean-Balthazar de Bonardi du Ménil. The Hébertists were condemned on false accusations, such as posting seditious posters, sabotaging food supplies, and massacring prisoners in jails. There was little evidence against them, yet the president of the Tribunal said, "Infamous, you will all perish!"

Except for Hébert, all were executed with great courage. Ronsin said to his colleagues, "You will be condemned. When you should have acted, you talked. Know how to die. For my part, I swear that you shall not see me flinch. Strive to do the same." And when someone said that it was the end of the Republic, he responded, "The Republic is immortal."

The revolutionary army would be dissolved.

From what I’ve deduced, Ronsin was definitely not a saint. He did things that were totally condemnable, which, even in times of war, are inexcusable. However, that Turreau behaved as a greater "scoundrel" with the infernal columns does not exonerate Ronsin. But Ronsin was also a man victimized by a black legend even more tenacious than others— he was a competent and honest administrator, far from being a stupid man that some aid. His violent words can be placed in the context that he, too, was at his wits' end, like Marat or other revolutionaries who were exhausted from the struggle. He more than deserved his rank, even though he was not a military genius like Kléber or Jourdan. I don’t get the impression that he acted out of shameless ambition, but rather from a genuine frustration that the Republic was in danger, compounded by the behavior of certain people (primarily Danton and the Dumouriez affair). My point is that the Hébertists were demonized even more than other revolutionary factions, when in reality, they were wrongly seen as bloodthirsty incompetents. However, they have very interesting stories and have had their share of both glory and a darker side, like all revolutionary groups.

The Fate of His Wife Marie-Angélique Lequesne, Widow Ronsin

There is an important hypothesis about Marie-Angélique Lequesne ( my theory). She is said to have met Ronsin in Belgium when he was supervising Dumouriez, or she was working as a canteen keeper, according to Geneanet. At that time, since Ronsin was not yet a general, he could not marry her, and it was only in 1793, when she came from a wealthier family than Ronsin’s, that they married. Here is the revolutionary period of Marie-Angélique Lequesne:

“Marie-Angélique Lequesne was caught up in the measures taken against the Hébertists and imprisoned on the 1st of Germinal at the Maison d'Arrêt des Anglaises, frequently engaging with ultra-revolutionary circles both before and after Ronsin’s death, even dressing as an Amazon to congratulate the Directory on a victory.”

According to the correspondence of Jorris, when she remarried Turreau, this is what was said about them. A.-J. de Rivaz dedicated an entire chapter to them in his Mémoires historiques sur le Valais. He expresses his hostility toward anyone who adhered to the principles of the French Revolution: Turreau "commits the blunder of not publicly performing any act of the Roman religion"; his wife, Marie-Angélique, "has the audacity to speak of it with contempt," and she does not blush "to say that she had never been happier since she had shaken off the yoke of the Christian superstition in which she had been raised."

Unfortunately, this marriage would become horrific for her. Turreau treated her with unimaginable cruelty, even having her flogged (a horrifying detail—I recently learned that it is very likely she was pregnant with their last child when he had her flogged). She followed her husband when he became an ambassador for Napoleon. She charmed the political class of Washington, unlike her husband. She became a very good friend of Dolley Madison, one of the most important future First Ladies of the United States, and played an essential role in her political development. Dolley described her as "good-natured, intelligent, generous, plain, and curious." They got along very well.

But Turreau continued to treat his wife terribly, and no one dared confront him about it until one day a judge confronted him. In retaliation, Turreau ordered Marie-Angélique to leave the United States, forced her to live in poverty for three years, and once again, it was the judge who arranged her departure to France. She eventually divorced him. Later, Turreau forced their daughter Alexandrine into a convent, and Marie-Angélique had to fight once more to free Alexandrine, which she succeeded in doing, according to this site: https://rembarre.fr/g_tur_ec.htm. Unfortunately, Alexandrine died in poverty years later.

An even more horrifying detail: Turreau, who called Charles-Philippe a friend from the time when Ronsin was still alive, stabbed him in the back by giving him a defeat, claiming that Ronsin was the one responsible, not him (while Turreau was the one truly responsible). You can see this in this post and here.

I wonder if Ronsin introduced Marie-Angélique to Turreau when they were still friends. After Ronsin was guillotined, Marie-Angélique Lequesne Ronsin went on to endure a terrible marriage with Turreau, who treated her with awful cruelty (as you can see in one of my posts here). In this way, Turreau betrayed the Ronsin couple a second time.

Sources:

Grace Phelan

https://www.jstor.org/stable/41929594?read-now=1&seq=4

Antoine Resche

(After studying it I disagree with Jacob Louis who says that Ronsin is incompetent but it remains an interesting analysis.

https://www.jstor.org/stable/41929592

[scotianostra]

On 5th April 1820 government forces defeated Radical weavers at what became known as the Battle of Bonnymuir.

The ‘Radical Rising’ or ‘Radical War’ of 1820, also known as the Scottish Insurrection of 1820, was a week of strikes and unrest in Scotland that culminated in the trial of a number of ‘radicals’ for the crime of treason. It was the last armed uprising on Scottish soil, with the intent of establishing a radical republic.

Based in Central Scotland, artisan workers (such as weavers, shoemakers, blacksmiths), initiated a series of strikes and social unrest during the first week of April 1820. This pushed for government reform, in response to the economic depression. The Rising was quickly, and violently, quashed, and the subsequent trials took place in Scotland from July to August 1820.

The events of the Rising followed years of economic recession after the end of the Napoleonic Wars and considerable revolutionary instability on the European continent. As the economic situation worsened for many workers, societies sprung up across the country which espoused radical ideas for fundamental change.

In the early nineteenth century, Scottish politics offered power to very few people. Councillors on the Royal Burghs at this time were not elected to their position, rich landowners controlled county government and there were fewer than 3,000 parliamentary voters in the whole of Scotland, hardly a democracy.

It was recognised that the key to change was electoral reform, and the events of the American Revolution of 1776 and French Revolution of 1789 helped to promote these ideas. Radical reformers began to seek the universal franchise (for men), annual parliaments, and the repeal of the Act of Union of 1707.

Between 1st and 8th April 1820, across central Scotland, some works stopped, particularly in weaving communities, and radicals attempted to fulfil a call to rise. Several disturbances occurred across the country, perhaps the worst of which were the events at Bonnymuir, Stirlingshire, where a group of about 50 radicals clashed with a patrol of around 30 soldiers, while Bonnymuir is the most famous, or should I say infamous of the events during this period, it was by no means the only “uprising”

On Monday April 3rd a strike took force across a wide area of Scotland including Stirlingshire, Dunbartonshire, Renfrewshire, Lanarkshire and Ayrshire, with an estimated total of around 60,000 stopping work.

Reports were made of men carrying out military drill in Glasgow while foundries and forges had been raided, and iron files and dyer's poles taken to make pikes. In Kilbarchan soldiers found men making pikes, in Stewarton around 60 strikers was dispersed, in Balfron around 200 men had assembled for some sort of action. Pikes, gunpowder and weapons called "wasps" (a sort of javelin) and "clegs" (a barbed shuttlecock to throw at horses) were offered for sale.

In Glasgow John Craig led around 30 men to make for the Carron Company ironworks in Falkirk, telling them that weapons would be there for the taking, but the group were scattered when intercepted by a police patrol. Craig was caught, brought before a magistrate and fined, but the magistrate paid his fine for him.

Rumours spread that England was in arms for the cause of reform and that an army was mustering at Campsie commanded by Marshal MacDonald, a Marshal of France and son of a Jacobite refugee family, to join forces with 50,000 French soldiers at Cathkin Braes under Kinloch, the fugitive "Radical laird" from Dundee.

Government troops were ready in Glasgow, including the Rifle Brigade, the 83rd Regiment of Foot, the 7th and 10th Hussars and Samuel Hunter's Glasgow Sharpshooters. In the evening 300 radicals briefly skirmished with a party "of cavalry", but no one came to harm.

The next day, Tuesday April 4th, Duncan Turner assembled around 60 men to march to Carron, while he carried out organising work elsewhere. Half the group dropped out, however the remaining twenty five, persuaded that they would pick up support along the way, set out under the leadership of Andrew Hardie. They arrived in Condorrat, which was on the way to Carron, at 5am on April 5th. Waiting for them was John Baird who had expected a small army, not this bedraggled and soaking wet group. He was persuaded to continue the March to Carron by John King, who would himself go ahead and gather supporters. King would go to find supporters at Camelon while Baird and Hardie were to leave the road and wait at Bonnymuir.

What the leaders didn’t know is that the Government had placed spies and agitators among the crowds and they were lured to the confrontation with well-armed, trained soldiers on Bonnymuir,

The authorities at Kilsyth and Stirling Castle had however been alerted and Sixteen Hussars and sixteen Yeomanry troopers had been ordered on 4 April to leave Perth and go to protect Carron. They left the road at Bonnybridge early on April 5th and made straight for the slopes of Bonnymuir. As the newspapers subsequently reported:

"On observing this force the radicals cheered and advanced to a wall over which they commenced firing at the military. Some shots were then fired by the soldiers in return, and after some time the cavalry got through an opening in the wall and attacked the party who resisted till overpowered by the troops who succeeded in taking nineteen of them prisoners, who are lodged in Stirling Castle. Four of the radicals were wounded".

The Glasgow Herald mocked the small number of radicals encountered, but worried that "the conspiracy appears to be more extensive than almost anyone imagined... radical principles are too widely spread and too deeply rooted to vanish without some explosion and the sooner it takes place the better."

The end of the Rising

On the afternoon of April 5th, before news of the Bonnymuir fighting got out, Lees sent a message asking the radicals of Strathaven to meet up with the "Radical laird" Kinloch's large force at Cathkin. The next morning a small force of 25 men followed the instructions and left at 7 a.m. to march there. Among them was the experienced elderly Radical James Wilson who is claimed to have had a banner reading "Scotland Free or a Desart"

At East Kilbride they were warned of an army ambush, and Wilson, suspecting treachery, returned to Strathaven. The others bypassed the ambush and reached Cathkin, but as there was no sign of the promised army they dispersed. Ten of them were identified and caught, and by nightfall on April 7th; they were jailed at Hamilton.

I’ll leave things there for the moment, the aftermath will be told in further posts, one in a few days, and more as the ringleaders were made examples of as they were tried for their parts in the events.

The large memorial stone to mark the 200th anniversary of the Battle of Bonnymuir was unveiled in April 2021.

[whencyclopedia]

Siege of Detroit

The Siege of Detroit (15-16 August 1812) was one of the first major actions of the War of 1812. After a botched invasion of Canada, a US army retreated to Fort Detroit, where it was besieged by British and Native American forces under Major General Isaac Brock and Shawnee chieftain Tecumseh. The Americans quickly capitulated, leaving Detroit in British hands.

Tecumseh and Brock at Fort Detroit

A.M. Wickson (Public Domain)

Background: March to Detroit

By April 1812, war between the United States and the United Kingdom seemed just over the horizon. On the high seas, British warships had been boarding American merchantmen and impressing American sailors with impunity, while on the northwestern frontier, British agents were believed to be aiding two Shawnee brothers, Tecumseh and the Prophet, in their attempt to form a Native American confederacy and resist US encroachment onto their hunting grounds. In Congress, a clique of belligerent, newly-elected representatives – called 'War Hawks' – clamored for war, despite the reluctance of the general population and the underpreparedness of the military. To prepare for a conflict that seemed increasingly likely, the administration of President James Madison looked to shore up defenses in the northwest, where the US shared a border with British-controlled Canada.

As part of this plan, the Madison administration ordered a new army to be raised in the Michigan Territory and then marched to the outpost of Fort Detroit. William Hull, the 59-year-old governor of the Michigan Territory, was commissioned as a brigadier general and offered the command. Hull, a veteran of the American Revolutionary War, was reluctant to accept – he had, after all, recently suffered a stroke – but his fear of an increase in Native American attacks against Michigan settlers led him to take the command. On 25 May, Hull arrived in Dayton, Ohio, where his makeshift army was being assembled, and was dismayed at what he found. The volunteers were noisy and undisciplined, lacking adequate arms or powder. Organized into three militia regiments, the volunteers insisted on electing their own officers. As such, the men they selected as colonels – Duncan McArthur, James Findlay, and Lewis Cass – were all either politicians or aspiring politicians, men with no military experience.

After a botched army inspection in which Hull was nearly flung from his horse, the army of Ohio volunteers set out on 1 June. Proceeding at a slow pace, they reached the frontier community of Urbana ten days later, where they were joined by Lt. Colonel James Miller and a regiment of regulars, the 4th US Infantry. At Urbana, some of Hull's volunteers refused to go any further, claiming that they had not received the full pay that had been promised to them. Though they were eventually prodded along by Miller's regulars, it was not a promising start. A few days later another incident took place when one militiaman, drunk on moonshine, was startled by a noise in the dark and shot one of his fellow sentries. The man was promptly court-martialed and given the "grotesque sentence" of having his ears cropped and each cheek branded (Berton, 94). The army then marched into the Great Black Swamp, northwest of Ohio, where incessant rainfalls had overflown streams and turned the ground to mud. Meanwhile, they were, unbeknownst to them, being closely watched by Tecumseh's scouts, hiding amongst the trees.

William Hull

James Sharples Sr. (Public Domain)

On 26 June, Hull received a letter from the US Secretary of War dated 18 June, warning him that war was imminent and ordering him to get to Detroit "with all possible speed". On 1 July, Hull reached the mouth of the Maumee River where he hired the schooner Cuyahoga and loaded it with anything that was slowing the army down, including his personal dispatches, officers' baggage, extra uniforms, medical supplies, and around 30 sick men. The Cuyahoga then sailed into Lake Erie to transport the supplies to Detroit. The next day, Hull received a second letter from Washington, also dated 18 June, informing him that war had been declared, but it was too late to recall the schooner. As it attempted to enter the Detroit River, the Cuyahoga, carrying Hull's dispatches, was captured by a Canadian vessel. On 5 July, Hull finally reached Detroit, where he was joined by several companies of Michigan militia, bringing his total number to about 2,500 men. Hull, whose army was running dangerously low on supplies, had hoped to find food in Detroit but was disappointed.

Continue reading...

[idolbound]

If Meredith was offered a promotion outside of Kirkwall — to become Knight-Vigilant or a Knight-Divine — would she accept it? Conversely, if she was offered the position of viscount, would she step down as Knight-Commander to take it? Is it power in Kirkwall, power in the templars, or power in general that's more important to her?

headcanon asks - @starkhvn

Being a templar is still at the core of her being; it is, ultimately, what drives her day after day - to serve and protect and prevent anyone from enduring what she did as a child. It's a lot of unresolved trauma, 'solved' in her mind, by doing what she can to save others. It is a fundamental part of her identity, beginning the very day she lost her family and was saved by Ser Wentworth Kell. With a resolve of steel, she had decided then, as a very young child, that she would become a templar.

That said, however, as she has ascended through the ranks, implementing new, effective methods to better control the mage population of the Gallows, Meredith became hungry for power. From her point of view, more power meant more control; for Kirkwall, her birthplace and her home are important to her, and to imagine going beyond its borders and leaving permanently would almost be unfathomable in the sense that she has never truly left the city-state, besides the occasional 'work' trip to the White Spire in her years serving as Knight-Commander.

While it would not be a decision made lightly, were Meredith to be offered a promotion to become Knight-Vigilant, she would take time deliberating it, ensuring that everything she had done for Kirkwall's Circle would be kept and maintained. Depending on when this theoretical promotion is offered to Meredith, she would discuss with Grand Cleric Elthina to prepare Cullen to take on the role as her direct successor and one that, for the most part, Meredith believes would follow in her footsteps.

Of course, being in command of the entire Templar Order (well, as likely subject to the Knights Divine, of course), would allow Meredith to implement the same regiment changes across all Circles under the Chantry's command. It would be one of those "with great power comes great responsibility" moments for Meredith, but I do believe with enough planning and thought, she would take it. Her hunger for power at some point would take over her desire to protect her home city, doing more than she ever could've imagined as that scared little girl.

edit: I realized I kind of contradicted myself so I'm amending this and referring to this headcanon for the bit about Viscount.

However, were she offered the position of Viscount - I think she would refuse. Her place in the context of Kirkwall is in the Templar Order. After all, enacting Martial Law and blocking an election, rather than necessarily claiming the throne for herself speaks volumes; she is playing the role without necessarily giving people genuine cause to call her a true tyrant or dictator. She remains in control of her templars, and uses this armed force to take control of the city-state without actually taking the title itself. She is not a politician, but she plays the game of politicking with what she has and what she is 'allowed' to do - but her interest is not to necessarily control Kirkwall. She is only interested in placing yet another puppet on the throne with the interests of the Chantry and Templar Order in mind, much like how she and Elthina threatened Dumar to allow them to do what Val Royeaux and the Chantry desire with regards to Kirkwall. So, if she was asked to become Viscount and to leave her station as Knight-Commander, she would refuse.

It is interesting to me the way that I believe Meredith would rather die than give up her current role to be placed on the throne as an established political leader. The idea of taking up an even more administrative position without the ability to have military-like power at her beck and call, as well as not having direct control over the mages of the Circle, is simply not in her interests. She has power enough in her role as Knight-Commander to dictate what happens to the mages (who she views as the most dangerous), that she wouldn't want to be the leader of the city-state and gain power in that sense. And lastly, she's seen what's happened to the past two Viscounts in her time! She wouldn't want to be on the throne in what she perceives to be a much weaker and unsafe position than she would be in the Gallows.

[ricardian-werewolf]

Chapter 10: The Show Must Go On!

Summary: Nikolai is faced with a conundrum in the leadership of his beloved Ravka, and Alina comes to him in the night needing more support than either Genya or Zoya can provide. Things escalate quite a bit. taglist: @lordbettany, @malkaleh, @fauxraven

Chapter below the cut

Kirbirsk, First Army Encampment, 3 days later.

Nikolai’s fingers clasped tight around the tin mug of coffee Isaak had handed him hours ago.

With it having gone cold, he found his fingers frozen stiff with the reality of riding for three straight days from the north of Ravka to its western edge. Standing as he did now, he found his toes cracking and popping inside the prison of his knitted socks. It was warmer here, frightfully so, and Nikolai had been quick to remove his scarf and goggles in succession. They were tossed carelessly along with his jacket over the back of his chair. Staring up at him, brows furrowed, was Colonel Raevsky of the 22nd Regiment. On Dominik’s orders, he’d been informed that Nikolai was following the Black General’s convoy. He had been told also, in stilted code, that the Sun Summoner was here.

Raevsky regarded him with a raised brow. 

“What do you intend to do, Major?” He asked, crossing his arms. Nikolai sipped his coffee, grimaced, and ran his hands over the mug to strengthen the metal. Placing it on the rim of the oil lamp at his elbow, he turned back to the colonel. It would be easy for him to say that he intended to lead the First Army into the Fold in a victorious charge a la the Light Brigade, but that would be a tactical disaster.

Half a league, half a league,

Half a league onward,

All in the valley of Death

   Rode the six hundred.

“Forward, the Light Brigade!

Charge for the guns!” he said.

Into the valley of Death

   Rode the six hundred.

He knew, from Dominik and Isaak, that First Army’s entire 24 regiments had been sent from their forts and posts to witness this miracle. However, the need for First Army to be there to witness the actions of such a man as the Darkling confused Nikolai. He knew that the Apparat had helped the Darkling take the throne from his father - Genya’s poison had worked too well.

Good riddance.

But Vasily was hardly the man to lead Ravka. Too many of his father’s ministers would use the power vacuum to seize ownership and legitimacy where they would have none under Nikolai’s rule. For that matter, the idea of Vasily leading his cavalry regiment to witness Alina’s saintly coronation frightened him. She was something far too precious, far too unique to be drowned in the mire and muck of court rule in the hands of the older generation. Nikolai found himself gnawing at his thumb cuticle as he thought all of this over, and flexed his free hand worriedly.

“What would you suggest?” Nikolai threw back, worry creasing his brows. He turned to his coffee and sipped it, relishing in the warmth. Colonel Raevsky glanced over his papers, shifting a few of them across his desk. He unfolded several tactical maps of the Unsea and its markers. Neither man knew what the Darkling planned, and it frightened both of them. “The other regimental leaders are assuming that whatever the General has planned, it’s a diversionary tactic. With our Tsar in such poor health, the cabinet has moved to speak with the war Ministry on whether to take up martial law or not.”

“Martial law?” The cup of coffee fell from Nikolai’s fingers with a clatter , and he cursed. “Has the ministry been informed of this happening-” He waved his hand outside at the general setting up of the second army’s tents in the one space set aside for them.  “Was my brother told?”

“Of course.” Raevsky’s moustache quivered as he huffed in evident displeasure over the coffee staining his ottoman rug. Nikolai gave him a dark glare. “And he elected to mention that he wished to delay any sort of troop movement until his father was in better health.” 

“For fuck’s sake!” Nikolai ground his teeth. “And-”

“As a result.” Raevsky pressed on, ignoring Nikolai’s curse. He shifted some more files on his desk and then held out a manilla folder stamped with the ministry’s seal. Printed in bold cyrillic across the top were the words: PRIVATE. FOR PRINCE NIKOLAI’S EYES ONLY.

Nikolai’s brows furrowed once again as he lifted the seal’s edge with a penknife and tore open the file. Staring him clearly in the face was a piece of blue carbon papers with more typed words, and a TOP SECRET stamped in the right hand corner. His hands began to tremble as he realised just what he was holding. In the case of the heir being unable to work proactively with the war ministry in place of the Tsar, the ministry had the ability to hand the power of rulership to any of the Tsar’s other sons.

Even if they were a bastard.

Nikolai chewed at his lower lip and began to sift through the files. The papers discussed what would happen in terms of military structure, absorption of Second Army under the crown’s rule in case of the Darkling’s uprising - which had happened! - and who would be punished. Nikolai winced at the thought of having to execute these orders, and turned his head to look out the tent flap. Sparing only a few of them would mean that First Army would bay for blood. The fragile and strained relationship between the two armies could be his undoing. But his going after the Grisha would alienate Alina from him perhaps forever. Nikolai ran a hand through his curls.

“When’s this meeting?”

“So you accept?” Raevsky muttered. “Good.” His eyes brightened, and he slid a box toward Nikolai. Nikolai’s pulse thundered in his ears as his gaze shifted to the box. The Tsar’s rule was legitimised by both the crown on his head, but the coronation ring. Where the Lantsov Emerald was the Tsarina’s ring, the Alta Ruby would go only on the Tsar’s finger. Nikolai’s fingers twitched. 

“It’s not like Vasily to not claim power when it’s given to him.” He said aloud suddenly, quickly snapping the file shut and winding the ribbon around it. Fear made him uneasy, and the reality of such a heavy burden on his shoulders caused him to pause. Looking at Raevsky, Nikolai sighed. He needed verbal confirmation that what was happening was the truth. He’d been hunted, shot, nearly died twice, and all to protect Alina from the Darkling. Now power was being handed to him on a silver platter, and he was expected merely to scrape and bow and say yes to the massacre of people who may have allied themselves with a monster who went against the crown? All in order to protect them? Nikolai twitched again.

“His Highness is not in much order to do anything .” Raevsky replied dismissively. “He has abandoned the capital for the fields of-”

Careyeva. Where he goes, as is his veteran’s right - despite seeing no action - to drown out his memories. If only he knew a mere scrap of what the horrors of war can appear as.

Nikolai’s thoughts churned with all the anger of a tempestuous sea, and he glanced down at the box again. He could slip that ring onto his finger, take control of First Army, and go toe to toe with his brother. Rain down hellfire and fury. But the Grisha who had been so effortlessly persecuted even without Fjerdan propaganda seeping into their states like rot, there was still danger. Ravka had only recently become better. If he did not take control of First Army, steer her toward the shore of the nation over the people, he would be no better than his father!

“I’ll do it.” 

The words fluttered from Nikolai’s mouth and he stiffened, feeling at once that uncanny dissonance between his mind and body that he hated with all of his heart. He stopped, and glanced down at the ring again. Before his mind could catch up to his body, Nikolai flipped the lid on the red velvet jewel box open and stared down at the Alta Ruby. Men of lesser spirit than him had worn this ring and died wearing it. They’d made Ravka into what she was in this day, yet also doomed Fortuna's wheel to spin ever onwards. 

He’d break the wheel.

Let his false father and mother see what their adopted, feckless, second son could do with Ravka under his control. This ceaseless war against Fjerda would end. The Fold would be torn to pieces, cast out with Alina’s holy light. The Apparat wished to venerate her? He’d have to do so from the very depths of hell where Nikolai knew, he would one day bring that monster to.

Nikolai flexed his hand, feeling the bite of the gold band of the Tsar’s ring dig into his flesh. Raising a brow, he met Raevsky’s gaze again, and gave the man a hint of a smile. He glanced over his shoulder to the huddled tents surrounding the largest camp on this side of the Fold, and then turned his head back. Protocols would need to be followed, and he needed new heraldry if the crown was to be his. Nikolai rolled his shoulders back, tucked the manilla envelope under his arm, and reached for his kepi.

“Tell the men by the morning.” He ordered, and turned to leave. 

“Yes, Moi Tsar .” Raevsky murmured, bowing his head. Nikolai smiled softly, and left as rapidly as he could. Crossing the expanse of packed earth to his tent, Nikolai watched the soldiers still not yet abed smoke and play cards. Some, he knew, found solace in the whorehouses scattered like small satellites near the edges of the once sleeping town of Kirbirsk, near the single chapel with its blue onion domes and gold crosses. It had been here he had made his first Fold crossing at 17, weeks after saving Dominik from the jaws of death. It had been here that he’d been posted before crossing once again to head back to Os Kervo and the Volkvolny. 

Here, had been Alina.

Now, as he raised his head and looked across the sea of canvas tents to the Grisha pavilion with the massive, ink-black tent and the smaller tents hosting the other Grisha orders, Nikolai shivered. The darkness inside him, the shadow summoner he was by birth and from the Darkling’s magic with the stag, writhed . It wanted Alina close. It wanted her safe, free from the Darkling’s corrosive and controlling grasp. Nikolai turned his head away from the pavilion. However, as he did, he felt the darkness within him perk up. Turning back, he saw the tent flaps part and a familiar, little form creep out. Clad in a jet black cape with gold sunburst embroidery and her hair braided, Alina crossed down the set of rickety wooden steps and crept through the camp. The wind tugged at her braid, sending strands flying every which way. She looked sicklier than ever, which caused Nikolai’s heart to tug in his chest. He stopped in his tracks, and then crept closer.

“Alina.” He breathed, watching her turn. In the half light cast by the flicker of an oil lamp, she looked like a saint sent to this place to either redeem his soul, or cast it into darkness. She stared at him a moment more, and then began fumbling with her cape’s hooks. As she unclasped it, he saw not the black and gold kefta of the winter fete, but a milk-white nightgown, simple and unadorned. She gave a weak smile, and shivered. The cold air sliced through her like a knife, and she drew the cape more tightly around her shoulders.

“Come on.” Nikolai murmured, gently throwing his arm around her. With not even a whisper of protest, he helped her toward his tent. Flipping the flaps back, he nudged her inside. Once more, to his eyes, the ornate and redundant heavy tapestries kept the light filtering in at only a weak trickle. The warm Fjerdan pelts were thrown on his set of armchairs upholstered in rich emerald velvet, between which stood an ice cold samovar. With Isaak retired for the night, Nikolai had let things slide a little in his absence. He busied himself with making tea as Alina let her cape drop to the floor in a puddle of ink-black silk and corecloth. Unknown to her, light wreathed her skin and caused her body to glow much in the way fireflies did. She examined the tapestries hanging on the walls of his tent with gentle, prodding fingers. Silence hung over them, crowding in at the edges much like the shadows that pooled about in the tent’s far corners. Nikolai examined his bundle of leaves and let them set about steeping. Raising his head again, he caught Alina’s gaze stuck on the tapestry he ’ d commissioned - the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, cursed to wander eternally through the underworld until the lord of death would be kind enough to let Orpheus guide his lover from the cold and dark of the world below. He had honestly no idea why at the time he’d commissioned it. The artist, while an excellent weaver, had given Eurydice white hair and a gold gown.

For saint’s sake, Orpheus wasn’t blonde either.

Nikolai shrugged and returned to his tea making, while Alina cocked her head to one side.

“Who are they?” She asked, tapping the tapestry he’d just been examining. Nikolai sniffed, and finally seated himself on one of the two armchairs. His fingers dipped into the drawer of the samovar’s table, and he began fiddling with the bag of gears he’d been working on the day he’d been sent to take Alina east. 

“Orpheus and Eurydice.” He replied, finally.

Alina raised a brow. “I didn’t learn Greek myths.” She answered, and crossed her arms. In this low light, the white of her nightgown made her look more ghostly than mortal. Nikolai sighed, and returned to his tinkering. 

“Orpheus was a mortal man who, given a lyre by Apollo that made it impossible for man nor beast to resist his music, fell in love with a woman named Eurydice. They were both very happily married, until one day Eurydice was dancing with a group of Nymphs, got bitten by a snake and died instantly.”

Nikolai paused in his tinkering to fish out two tea glasses, and made Alina a cup of tea exactly as she liked it - a splash of milk and a hint of sugar. Alina accepted the glass and sipped it wanly, scrunching up her nose. “Sorry.” She apologised quickly. “I’ve been struggling with food… lately.” She winced and scratched the back of her neck. “My powers…” She gestured weakly to the antlers sticking from her skin, and pressed her knuckles to her lips. 

“Fucking hell.” She added shortly. “I think…” Tears blossomed in her eyes. “Either I’ll make it through whatever the Darkling’s planned for our wretched little crossing tomorrow, or I’ll die tonight. I’ve still not decided.”

She looked at him then, her eyes dark and wide with an animalistic fear - the kind of glance a creature caught in a trap gave its potential saviour. Nikolai’s brows furrowed and he placed the glass of tea in his hand down onto the table. Standing up, he coaxed the glass from her hand and found that her palm was bleeding from the jagged edges of her grip. 

“Alina…” He breathed, touching her cheek. “Why didn’t you have Zoya or Genya tell me…?”

“They didn’t know!” Alina burst out, closing her wounded fingers into fists. She ducked her head and looked down at the rug and rush strewn floor. “I didn’t want them to know. I didn’t…” She broke off again, and pressed her hands to her temples. Blood dribbled down her cheek, and she curled inwards on herself, pressing her chin to her chest.

“I can’t be what you need.” She breathed. “I can’t be what anyone needs.” With all the effort of a dam breaking, Alina’s legs wobbled and she collapsed. Nikolai’s hands reached out and grasped her tight, one hand snaking up into her hair while the other steadied her back. Pressing her face into his shoulder, Nikolai ran his fingers through her curls as Alina sobbed without remorse. They were the kind of sobs that wracked her entire body and frame, with the sick gasps of someone pushed too far over the edge into the dark. Nikolai merely held her tight and ran his hands through her hair. He could do little else, even as his heart tore and cracked under the strain of his lover’s pain.

Oh yes. He thought, brushing his lips against the crown of Alina’s head. I love her. I love her with all of the fire and fury this world has to possess, and I would destroy myself for her.

“You are exactly what I need. You always have been.” He murmured against the shell of her ear, tucking himself to be partially coiled around her. Nothing would touch her as long as he was here. “And for what anyone else needs?” He tilted her chin up, glancing down into those fathomless depths of the rich earthen brown of her eyes, and smiled.

“Fuck them. They don’t need you. They don’t deserve you.” He breathed. “The Darkling wishes to make you his Saint, the Apparat his martyr, my father his little ornament. But you are none of those things, sunshine . And you never will be, unless you wish it so.”

Alina hiccuped, and sniffled.

“You say that, and yet…” Her hand snaked up to the antlers, smearing her blood across the surface. She glanced at him again with those widened eyes, and Nikolai sighed, gently reaching for her hand. He pressed his lips to the bloodied skin, and Alina’s eyes widened, but she did not pull back.

“Yet, you are still wounded. Still someone else’s.” His hands dropped from hers and reached up to the antlers. His fingers skimmed the chilled bone, searching for a hinge, a catch. But David’s work was seamless.

“But this will not be your shackle for long, sweetheart.”

Alina swallowed and looked at him long and hard.

“How can you be so bloody sure?” She whispered.

“Morozova made more than one amplifier. There is another.” He lifted her hand and pressed his thumb and second finger around the expanse of her wrist, which made Alina’s skin prickle with gooseflesh, albeit welcome. “The Darkling contracted a notorious privateer to find it.” His expression was turning wickedly charming, and Alina felt her heart skip in her chest.

“You…?” She whispered.

“Who else?” He murmured, touching her cheek again. “Come west with me, Alina. Leave Ravka behind. As a member of my crew, you would be honoured. Be amongst fellows such as yourself. Grisha. Orphans. Outcasts . We could put a head start on the Darkling, get the sea whip before he even thinks to follow you. Return to Ravka, and…” His ringed hand cupped her other cheek, and she felt the cold sting of the gold. 

“...Claim the throne of Ravka. There are two thrones on that dias. Think of it, Alina. Us, ruling, justly and fairly. Two outcasts made into the most powerful people of Ravka. Our dynasty would be eternal. Endless.”

Alina’s eyes widened. She could see it as easily as he described it. And, for the first time in her short life, she didn’t feel fear about such a momentous change. It felt right . Welcome, like she’d felt when she’d figured out how to call the light willingly. Now, she would be stronger than what even the Darkling could offer. He’d called her his Queen, yes, but that had been in a place of subservience. Now, it was an equal partnership being laid at her feet.

“Yes.” Alina breathed, her eyes widening. Without thinking, she brushed her lips against Nikolai’s in a chaste kiss, and pulled back, shock colouring her cheeks. The look Nikolai gave here was devilish, sinful. With a smirk, he cupped her cheeks once more and brought his lips down upon hers. The crash of his cracked lips against her raw ones was not unwelcome, and she smelt his scent of brandy and sea salt against her nostrils as his lips melded effortlessly against hers. Distantly, she felt him pull back, only to lay open-mouthed kisses down the expanse of her throat. His fingers pushed aside the buttons of her foppish and conservative nightgown’s collar, and she heard his voice softly murmur something.

“Tell me to stop.” He breathed.

“Don’t.” She replied. This was all moving so fast, so suddenly. But unlike with the Darkling, who had been all take with nothing given back, this was warm and welcoming. Nikolai gave and ensured none of her was left wanting. She felt his hands skim down her back, lifting her, and her head lolled back. Her hands skimmed up the back of his tunic and fisted in the seams of his shoulders as they fitted together. The height made for some awkwardness, but Alina’s back was soon sinking into the expanse of the featherbed mattress topping Nikolai’s cot.

She quickly lost herself to the passion of the moment, and when bliss came, it was as welcome and filling as she had always read about in the stories Ana Kuya had told her were for older girls. But, as Alina lay tucked against Nikolai’s chest, his arm over her stomach and lips pressed into her shoulder, she realised that this was what love was about. The horrors of the world were far easier to handle when one was given the rock solid support of a lover. 

Which, Alina knew as she drifted off into that calm and endless post coital bliss, she had with her fox prince. 

End of chapter 10.