#Flemeth was a bad mother and Flemeth was a hurt woman

[bharv]

The Morrigan line about Flemeth did not make me mad in the slightest and is probably the most consistent growth arc across the whole franchise :)

[alittlestarling]

Inktober #15 - Legend

“I knew we shouldn’t have taken any path that led us through the wilds.”

“It’s not bad. At least the only things we’ll come across are wolves and maybe a few swamp rats. Nothing we can’t handle.” 

The two Templars no longer bothered lowering their voices as they spoke, dragging their small charge alongside them through the swampy countryside they found themselves in. Rosalind was trying to remember their names, but everything felt like a blur of colors and sounds and the sensation of falling. Like last spring, when she’d climbed too high in the tree and, caught teetering on the edge of the branch, her stomach had flipped and flopped before there was nothing between her back but air and a rushing to the ground.

Matthew had been there, ready to scoop her back to her feet, reminding her that she was fine, nothing had broken and wiping back tears that often came easily to her.

“I’m tired!” Mother had often told her that whining wouldn’t get her anywhere, but Rosalind couldn’t help it. Her feet hurt from days walking and she didn’t know how to sleep anywhere without her bunny. Her favorite toy had been left, like so many things, back at the house she no longer lived in. “I wanna go home!”

They ignored her, though a pair of rough hands slung her up off the ground, carrying her as they kept talking. It had been like this since leaving home, taking her far away so she couldn’t accidentally burn off her brother’s eyebrows again or set fire to the curtains in the playroom. Words had been thrown about that she didn’t understand, asking and finding her answers ready, only stony silence from the ones she loved.

“You’ve heard the stories, though,” one of them grumbled, using a word that Rosalind didn’t know. Her nose wrinkled, disinterested in laying her head against an armored shoulder anyways.

“What does ‘legend’ mean?” She let the word roll around on her tongue, trying to discern the meaning behind it. Matthew would explain words to her sometimes, but a glance behind them showed her that he wasn’t following. He’d stayed behind and her stomach knotted tightly.

“Nothing you need to know,” the Templar not holding her grumbled.

“Oh, but I believe she does, especially with the legends you’re indulging in.” The voice came from just beyond the brush, causing both Templars to stop as Rosalind frowned, her small head turning from side to side to find where it was coming from. 

Golden eyes glowed, a wrinkled smile seemingly saved only for the guards accompanying Rosalind. “I can smell your fear on the wind, dear ones. You who fear so much and yet have stumbled upon me.” There was a flash of teeth and Rosalind felt it in the air - magic. “A witch of the wilds. And I am very hungry.”

Rosalind’s feet hit the ground, altogether jarred as she nearly fell onto her bottom. There was shouting, a flash of light and crunching that made her start to tremble. Both hands covered her ears, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to hum something - anything to keep from whatever was happening. 

As soon as it began, it was over. Her guards were nowhere in sight; instead, an older woman stood before Rosalind, watching with curiosity. Slowly, Rosalind removed her hands from her ears, lower lip trembling. Like the stories she’d been told, she, too, would be eaten in the middle of the woods. She desperately wished for her bunny then, tears welling in her eyes.

“And who do we have here?” The woman’s voice no longer sounded so sinister, but there was an edge to it that Rosalind had often heard with her own parents. Curious and perhaps a little bored with the little child before them. 

“Rosalind,” she whispered, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “Are...are you going to eat me, too?”

The woman surprised her then, giving a harsh, cackling laugh that spooked a small flock of birds from a nearby tree. “I will not eat you, little one.” Instead, she bent down, eye to eye with Rosalind. “It seems I have found a flower amongst the moss and dirt.” She stood, brushing her skirts off, holding a hand out for Rosalind. “Come along, this is no place for a girl.”

Rosalind hesitated, uncertainty almost winning her over.

“Quickly! Quickly!” The woman snapped and Rosalind, acting on instinct, reached forward to grasp her hand. For a moment, all felt clear and true; the next, it was a fog. There were people she was supposed to remember, she thought, places she was going. But, glancing up, she only saw the face of her mother in front of her.

“Come along, my girl,” Flemeth coaxed gently. “Your sister is waiting for you.” Ever obedient, Rosalind nodded her head and followed deeper into the wilds.

[a-gay-bloodmage]

11, 12 & 20 ;)

Wow, okay! I ended up going on and on (and on and on and on…) for these, so I’ve posted ‘em under the cut!

Thank you for the ask!

((From this post!))

11. Top 5 favourite female companions?

5. Velanna: It’s rare that we get to see angry elves. Elves who are sick and tired of humans burning them out of their homes, sick of racism and human policies, and just sick of everything the world’s thrown at their people. Velanna, despite her “abrasive” (or worse, “bitchy”) personality, is, at her core, a wonderful person. Sure, pride was a part of the reason she stood against the humans trying to burn her clan out, but, if anything, it was her overwhelming resilience and defiance that made her take a stand, even if it was against what many considered better judgement. I love angry elves, especially Dalish ones. I think that the Dragon Age series needs more elves that won’t just play to the narrative of “elves were weak and violent against The Righteous Humans so they deserved what happened to them” because they didn’t deserve any of that. Nobody oppressed deserves to be oppressed. Velanna knows that. She’s incredibly talented and strong-willed and it’s wonderful to see. But, almost above that, is the fact that she’s still a young woman, naive to the world outside her clan. And, honestly, I find that adorable. She believes Oghren’s obviously false stories about dwarvern babies, and can’t handle being flirted with. And her ears are adorable. The bigger the ears the better.

4. Sera: Okay, my love for Sera’s a little tougher to describe than Velanna. On one hand, I adore her character. I absolutely love her design, her openness of and love for sexuality, and her chaotic-neutral-with-a-guarded-heart-of-gold personality. I just… hate how she was handled. So, therefore, I have taken Sera as my own. I love her obvious neurodivergence, and how it’s the opposite of all the more widely-loved neurodivergent characters we usually get. She’s loud and unfiltered, she’s impulsive and often reckless, and she gets angry when she’s sad or angry or confused. I think, personally, that her character is a type we should see more, and that, more importantly, we should sympathize with more. Sera, at her core, just wants to help the people that have been spat on by society, the “little guy” at the bottom of the social ladder. She’s fueled by a love of adventure and want to do the good thing. And I really do admire that. I love characters who aren’t afraid to get in trouble for doing what they believe to be right. And her romance is so cute, she’s so obviously smitten by her Tadwinks and it’s downright adorable. And her friendship with a male PC can be just as cute, really. It’s all the fun of the romance without the sexy-bits. And I love how close you can become with her, living life after the Inquisition with someone who likes you for you, not because you’re the supposed prophet of someone. I think that Sera is one of the few characters that genuinely couldn’t care less about where you’re from or what you do, so long as you make an effort to understand her and her feelings, and don’t work against what she works for. Not to mention, she’s got a stupid sense of humor that I just love. Her banter always makes me laugh and I so appreciate everything about it.

3. Merrill: I’ll start this out by saying, unapologetically, that I am completely in favor of blood magic. I love blood magic. I think it’s an unharnessed force of magic that could be used in so many unexplored aspects of magical fields, and that it’s use in healing could revolutionize the art if only people would get over it’s taboo. That being said, I adore Merrill. Not only is she connected to the Dalish Warden, but her connection to them ends up leading her to becoming one of the most intelligent characters in the series. Not only is she a Dalish mage somehow surviving in human civilization (even if she does get lost sometimes…), but she’s working to undo Darkspawn corruption of an ancient elven artifact. That takes not only immense skill, but the upmost patience and dedication to discovering knowledge lost for Creators-know-how-long. And, being completely honest here, Merrill is one of the cutest characters in the series. Her absolute adorable-ness is one of the most prominent in the series. You can’t argue me on this. I’m right. I adore her voice actress, and could listen to her banter for hours upon hours. And her face is just… pure adorable. Those big green eyes just make my heart melt, honestly. Anyway, like with Velanna, I really appreciate having elves that take immense pride in their cultures, and do whatever they can to protect their people. With Velanna, it was standing alone against humans trying to attack her clan. With Merrill, it’s calling upon “forbidden” magic to restore not only parts of her people’s past, but (even if this part was… in vain) to cure the people she loved, Mahariel and Tamlen. There’s so much goodness trapped inside this tiny elf, it’s a miracle she doesn’t burst at the seams.

2. Leliana: Okay, I know I go on and on here at a-gay-bloodmage about how much I hate the Chantry and every single thing that comes out of it, but Leliana is an exception. As much as people like to claim that she’s annoying, that she’s too forward, that she falls in love with the Warden no matter what they do, I can’t help but believe that this is not only wildly exaggerated, but part of why she’s such a good character. First off, the claim that she’s annoying. If anything, her enthusiasm toward saving the world only makes me love her even more. Also, she never forces her beliefs on anyone who tells her they don’t believe in her god. She had a vision, she believes in it, and she wants to help. Whether or not you believe her is up to the player. Her forwardness is just another part of her charm to me, as well. I think that there’s something so wonderful about a woman who is just so in love with all the good things in the world that she can set aside the bad in their favor, that she can look to where people see an absentee god and see a loving, embracing figure. That warmth is so beautiful to me, and I love to shape my thinking after hers, preferring to believe in a good force in the universe instead of fire and brimstone and all the nonsense. And when people complain that she keeps ninja-mancing the Warden? So what? Again, I love that. Sure, it can mess with some relationships in-game, but she accepts a no if you give it to her. I think her love toward the Warden is so sweet and pure, to be honest. She loves the person she’s following out of actual admiration for once, and not out of manipulation, like how she was with Marjolaine. I’m an absolute sucker for characters with love too big for their heart, and Leliana fits the description quite perfectly.

1. Morrigan: Fuck you. I love Morrigan. Okay, that started off a little strong. I just really love her. I not only think she’s breath-takingly gorgeous, but her personality just draws me to her. Of course, if she were an actual person I had to interact with on a daily basis, well, maybe I’d have a different opinion, but we’re talking about video game ladies here, fellas. They can be abrasive and petty and prideful, but eventually, we get to see behind the proverbial curtain. And… God, I can relate to the serious case of mommy issues in this one. I do think that if I weren’t such a passive person, I’d be quite like Morrigan. Pushing people away before they can get too close to see why you’re hurting inside. I find it easier to deflect while she prefers to simply shove and jab and bite until you give up trying. I empathize with her, and I only wish I could’ve done more to convince her that staying with the Warden, romance or not, would’ve been welcome. That she didn’t have to run away, to take on the burden of an (at the moment) unwanted child alone. She’s secretly so caring and kind, but she just doesn’t understand that people can be loving due to the abuse Flemeth put her through. I know she wouldn’t appreciate the physical contact, but I just want her to lie her head in my lap and talk about her feelings. Poor little witch never learned how to express herself in a positive manner… And yet I love her regardless. And when it comes to her role in Inquisition, I hate a bit of a love-hate relationship with it. On one hand, she showed just how much she’s grown to care for Kieran, and it makes my annoyingly-baby-loving-heart just melt into a gushy pile of love. The fact that she refuses to be the mother Flemeth was to her? I cried. (“I am many things, but I will not be the mother you were to me.”). On the other hand, I wish she wasn’t the “expert” on elven lore. I blame bad writing. But one thing Inquisition really got right? Yeah, I’m back on the Kieran relationship again. I just love it so much… Her desire to be a better mother than her mother was to her is one I hold dear as well, and the reason why she’s my favorite female companion in the entire Dragon Age series.

12. Top 5 favourite male companions?

5. Alistair Theirin: First of all, I unashamedly love Fiona and Maric. Just going to put that out there. I love and actually admire Alistair for a lot of his qualities. As someone who went through years upon years of horrible abuse from the people who were supposed to be taking care of him (Fuck you Eamon and double fuck you, Isolde), was sent to a Chantry against his will and forced to become a Templar, and someone who promptly quit the order after seeing what it did to mages, Alistair’s proven himself time and time again to be a resilient and compassionate person. I think that most of my love for him comes from the fact that despite seeing how much bad was in the world, Alistair still worked to be a good person and to create something positive in the world. I personally make him King in most of my worldstates, not because I think it’s where he “belongs” or anything, or because I somehow am delusional enough to think Anora would be a bad ruler, but because he’s shown to have a lot more compassion than any other ruler. He’s sympathetic to the plights of the mages and the elves, despite not (knowingly) having any connection to them. He’s a solid, overall good boy who covers up emotional pain with humor, and I love him one hundred percent.

4. Dorian Pavus: Dorian is one of the characters that I think gets a lot of fandom love for reasons other than my own. He’s beautiful, and charming, and unique, and a wonderful gay man in a video game (an unfortunately rare thing), but I love him because I can relate to him on a deep level. That fear of disappointing those you love because you’re not what they think you could be, that hiding away your issues behind a veneer of “it’s alright” is best because then you’re not a burden and people don’t see how damaged you are. It’s hard for me to open up to people, and Dorian really is just one of those characters I can’t help but love, despite the fact that he reminds me so much of myself. And, another thing I love about him is that he’s not pale. I know that can be seen as a stupid thing to love someone over, but coming from an Italian family, seeing a character from a place modeled after Rome not being pale makes me so happy. I, myself, am pale as hell, but knowing that finally, finally, we’ve got someone from a Southern-European modeled country that doesn’t look Scandinavian makes me so incredibly happy.

3. Thom Rainier: I think that this is going to be a common theme in my explanations, but I love Thom because he’s not perfect. As like with Dorian, Thom hides behind a facade that makes him feel like he’s something better than he believes himself to be. And he’s a character that fucked up in the past, and fucked up badly, and he bleeds for redemption. He suffers and works and suffers even more in order to prove himself to really be the man he’s become. Very rarely do we get treated to a redemption arc that makes characters actively work for their redemption, face the consequences of their actions, and stick to the principles they claimed they’d stick to. He’s self-deprecating, believing himself to be damn near worthless, his only reason for existing being to help others and work to repent for what he did in the past. Believing you’re undeserving of love is a thing I know a little to well, and having a character genuinely believe themselves to be so without being seen as attention-seeking was great, if not a call-out for my self-loathing ass. Thom is a severely underappreciated character in this fandom, and I really wish that wasn’t the case. He’s an older character, but honestly, he’s about the same age as other characters like Cassandra or Varric. Just because he isn’t conventionally attractive doesn’t mean he should be pushed aside for other characters. I love my big bear husband so much.

2. Anders: Oh, Anders. My lovely, beautiful Anders. My bisexual, mentally ill, selfless, revolutionary, darling Anders. I can’t help but love him. Of course, I love him both before and after Justice, but for differing reasons. In Awakening, Anders was simply someone who just wanted to escape, to be free for once in his life, and to enjoy what the world had robbed him of. There’s something heart-wrenching about seeing a character so obviously hurt being cheerful like he was in Awakening, especially when you see more into his backstory in Dragon Age: II. He, much like Alistair, used humor to distract people from his true feelings. He was a hopeful spot amongst some other companions who wore their pain on their sleeves. In Dragon Age: II, Anders became even more of a favorite for me, simply because I could understand a lot of his pain. I, too, am someone who exhausts myself caring for others, putting the needs of others far above myself. Of course, I know I could never even hope to have mental fortitude like him, but seeing someone so intent on tearing down institutions that have ruined so many lives helps me work to do so myself. Besides, I’m an extremely anti-institutionalized religion person despite being decently religious. Seeing someone who believes in the Maker but not the Chantry was refreshing. It was welcome and wonderful. And, as someone who struggles with mental illness (in my case, things along the lines of ADD, chronic stress, anxiety, dysmorphia, etc.) seeing someone who struggles from mental illness (”possession” that covers a whole lot of shit I’m not really one to put labels to) not overcome but co-exist with his mental illness and find love and purpose was really good for me. I don’t believe for a second that Anders was overly controlled by Justice, only pushed to do things he was to scared to do before Justice came along. In every worldstate of mine, Anders is spared and stood behind. His actions are justified and supported. Fuck the Chantry and Fuck Me Anders. (Sorry, I had to)

1. Zevran Arainai: Zevran was the first character in the Dragon Age series I fell in love with, so of course he’s at the top of this list. And my love for him isn’t just because he’s handsome (even if that is quite an attractive reason), but because he’s a good person who both tries to hide/downplay his goodness and does all he can to do what he knows is right. First of all, once again, like with Dorian, I love seeing Mediterranean-coded characters as non-white. Seeing someone come from a Spanish/Italian-coded country not look British is so beautiful. Of course, I would never say someone claiming that he’s Latino is invalid. There’s one hundred percent reason to believe that, and I support their headcanons. But to me, I relish in the fact that someone from a darker-skinned area of Europe is seen as a beautiful character. He was one of the first darker-skinned European characters I’d ever seen, and that certainly guarantees him a place in my heart. Moving on, I also see a lot of myself in him, though that isn’t exactly a good thing for him. Of course, bisexuality is a huge part of both our existences, and words can’t really express how much I love a canonically bisexual man. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it, in all honesty. I thought it was a headcanon until I read that you could romance him as a male PC. So, of course I made my first character and romanced the hell out of him. Though, on a bit of a darker note, I could really sympathize with his reasoning for leaving Antiva. As someone who’s struggled with suicidal thoughts and certainly suicidal idealization (that whole “I wish I could just stop existing” bullshit), having someone not only deal with the problem of depression but actually get better was incredible. The idea that with enough love and compassion and understanding the pain would ease was a wonderful message I really took to heart. In addition to all of this, which is already a whole lot but I just can’t stop talking about him, Zevran is empathetic. He’s compassionate and understanding. He advocates where other companions stay silent. He’s got one of the most in-depth arguments against allying with the Templars, and his anger towards the Warden, while thinly masked as calm, when the mages are slaughtered in compelling and just compassionate. Not many “ordinary” people are willing to fight for those they don’t know or understand. But Zevran does. And when slavers attempt to sell people in the Alienage into slavery, Zevran does his best to convince the Warden to do the right thing, despite owing them a blood debt. He could be putting his life on the line once more if they don’t agree with him, but he does it anyway. And, you know what? Fuck it, he’s beautiful. He’s goddamn gorgeous and I want all 5′2″ of him.

20. Favorite fantheory?

Andraste was a mage. I absolutely adore this theory and I can’t help but throw my entire support behind it. I find no reason else why a somehow ordinary woman would be chosen by the Maker in the Fade (“World fell away then, misty in mem'ry, / ‘Cross Veil and into the valley of dreams / A vision of all worlds, waking and slumb'ring, / Spirit and mortal to me appeared.” -Andraste 1:10, “Long was his silence, ‘fore it was broken. / For you, song-weaver, once more I will try. / To My children venture, carrying wisdom, / If they but listen, I shall return.“ - Andraste 1:14) because she had a wonderful singing voice (magic is often referred to as a song, and this page on the wiki is quite informative) and could somehow make natural disasters occur in her favor to drive out Tevinter (“The air itself rent asunder, / Spilling light unearthly from the / Waters of the Fade, / Opening as an eye to look / Upon the Realm of Opposition / In dire judgment.” -Exaltations 1:2). Magic, in itself, is never said to be evil in the Chant, only that those who takes the Maker’s gift of magic and turn it against one another are evil (“Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. / Foul and corrupt are they / Who have taken His gift / And turned it against His children.” -Transfigurations 1:2) Personally, canon aside, I believe that if Andraste could see the current state of the Chantry, she would be appalled. Especially the Chantry in Tevinter, seeing as it endorses slavery (“At Shartan’s word, the sky / Grew black with arrows. / At Our Lady’s, ten thousand swords / Rang from their sheaths. / A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly, proclaiming: / Those who had been slaves were now free.” -Shartan 10:1) and prohibits the mages from using their magic to their full potential (Once again, magic exists to serve, not to be enslaved). Sorry if this is a little messy, but Lord Do I Have Opinions.

[enigmaphenomenon]

Jack pre-Borderlands 1 Speculation/Jack analysis

STRAP IN, KIDDOS! THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE! REALLY LONG.

(Will be tagged long post for any mobile users)

I’ll be drawing my speculation from evidence presented in Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel, Borderlands 2, and Tales from The Borderlands. Keep in mind this is just speculation. 

Who was the man before the monster?

I’m talking about Pre-Borderlands 1 because while The Pre-Sequel shows a more sympathetic side of Jack than the villain in BL2 and TFTBL. Jack had already enslaved Angel by the time of Borderlands 1 and The Pre-Sequel, so this simple fact is something people haven’t ignored/can’t ignore when thinking about Jack in a non-villain light. 

The first thing we’ll look at is the photo of Angel Jack keeps on his desk, even when he’s the CEO of Hyperion, even in TFTBL the framed photo remains on his desk. 

She appears to be a very happy little girl, even throwing the peace sign. No tattoos are visible so this could be one of two things. The artist forgot to draw them, or her Siren powers had not yet been acquired/awakened. Or whatever, I don’t know how Siren powers work.

The Last of Us is made by an entirely different company but I want to compare this photo of Angel to the photo of Joel’s daughter. 

Wide eyes, open smile that shows teeth, and throwing the peace sign, the same as Angel’s photo. 

This seems to be a go-to pose for conveying happiness in photos. Angel was at one point a very happy little girl, this photo showing Angel’s happiness is something Jack always keeps on his desk even when he becomes the villain. 

Now let’s talk about Jack’s romantic life. 

We know that Jack had a wife who he had a daughter with, and so what sort of husband was Jack during this time?

Well, we have none other than Moxxi to turn to for answers. 

When Jack dated Moxxi he had already lost his first wife and Angel was in containment, but what does Moxxi have to say about her relationship with Jack? 

Moxxi says that Jack was a real charmer, he was always opening doors for her, telling her she was beautiful and would shoot anyone in the face for looking at her sideways. She then says he got clingy and that’s when she broke it off with him. 

I don’t know what Moxxi’s definition of clingy is, but just imagine that if Jack was a gentleman to Moxxi imagine how he must have treated his first wife! 

In Borderlands 2 when Moxxi destroys Jack’s Construction Site and he exclaims: “Moxxi, you BITCH!”

She laughs and says she hasn’t seen him that angry since they broke up. Yet despite that, Jack trusted Moxxi enough with his life post-breakup. When she takes part in the betrayal in the pre-sequel he is shocked and emphasizes that he trusted Moxxi. 

Even with Moxxi’s betrayal, Jack doesn’t seem to carry the same amount of hatred he does for Roland and Lilith. Which you would think Moxxi’s betrayal would fill him with more rage than Roland and Lilith’s. 

Which circles me back to Jack’s first wife. Some think that Jack murdered her and blamed it on Angel, and that he’s lying about Angel’s part in whatever happened to his first wife. 

I honestly don’t think he did anything to his wife and blamed Angel for it.

Jack doesn’t kill his grandmother until he becomes Handsome Jack, even though that woman was horribly abusive to him. Jack doesn’t kill Moxxi despite her betrayal, Jack is incapable of NOT bragging about himself, and even with Angel turning against him he doesn’t kill her, but he begs for her life and says he’ll forgive her for helping the Vault Hunters. 

Based on all of this, I would say that Jack was a genuinely loving husband and father. At some point. 

Angel looks so happy in the photo, and Moxxi’s description of her time with Jack paints him as an affectionate man. 

As an added note, Jack has had multiple female lovers, but only fathered one child with his first wife. Jack had a second wife who he didn’t have a child with (that we know of anyway) Moxxi has been married 3 times and has children but never married Jack nor had a child by him, and of course, there’s Nisha who he never married nor had a child with. 

So, imagine Jack, finding a woman he proposes too...she says yes. A WEDDING!!! Imagine her breaking the news to him that she’s pregnant and he’ll be a father. Imagine him and his wife deciding on names for their first child together. (He named his diamond pony Butt-Stallion after “racking his brain” for a name, I’m sure the naming process was hilarious. Until “Angel” was finally decided on.)

 Imagine him learning he will have a daughter. Imagine him while his wife is in labor. 

There is no reason to assume he was not a loving and doting husband. And since Moxxi called him “clingy” I can easily imagine Jack being a control freak while his wife was pregnant. 

“No, let me get that, honey!” for any little task, probably having her feel a little smothered and say she’s pregnant, not incapable, and for Jack to calm down a little bit. 

Imagine Jack going out of his way to get whatever food she’s craving and being there to support her during whatever morning sickness she experiences.

Imagine Jack holding his baby girl in his arms for the very first time, or being spit-up on for the first time, attempting to change a diaper for the first time. 

Based on Moxxi’s words and the photo of Angel on his desk, there’s no reason to assume Jack wasn’t a kind and caring father and husband. 

He found a woman he loved and had a child with her, finally had a family of his own. He escaped his abusive past and most likely vowed to be a better parent to Angel than his grandmother was to him.

Again, bringing up a situation in a different game (might be a bad example to bring up a different game and company to illustrate my point but maybe it will help paint a clearer picture?) 

Morrigan in Dragon Age has a son, and Morrigan’s mother Flemeth raised Morrigan in an abusive way and refuses to let Flemeth take her son away. Morrigan says: “I am many things, but I will not be the mother that you were to me.” 

I don’t know what age Angel is in the photo nor the age she killed her mother at, but in Jack’s ECHO logs in BL2 there is one where he is introducing Angel to her “new home” (the containment thing) and she sounds like a young girl. So maybe it happened shortly after the picture on his desk was taken. 

Another thing about Jack is his reluctance to talk about his wife and child, indicating it is a very sore subject and cuts a little too close to the bone. 

In the Pre-Sequel before his descent into madness, Nakayama is creating the Jack AI and the player character asks Jack some questions. 

One of the questions is for Jack to describe his childhood. He can casually and in a flippant tone speak about the abuse he suffered as a child. 

He says he spent most of his time coding or getting smacked around, and that he had a pet cat that his grandma drowned when he didn’t make his bed. He then says “Usual stuff” 

Some kids get spanked, others get a time-out, Jack got the Buzz Axe. 

But when asked if he has a family such as a wife or children, he responds: “Next question!” 

It is a great contrast compared to how he answers when asked about his childhood. He’s tight-lipped about his family, he won’t answer it at all. 

Another ECHO log from BL2 shows that even his second wife is a touchy subject as he strangles a man to death for bringing up his wife. 

Now let’s get back on topic, Jack’s life before his daughter had Siren powers and before his wife died. 

In BL2 there is an ECHO log of Jack putting Angel in containment. She sounds scared and asks him where her mother is, Jack has growing impatience and tells her that he already told her, “She’s not coming back.” 

Judging by the photo he keeps of her, some of his dialogue with her in the pre-sequel such as “Thanks, baby. Love ya!” and his dialogue during her death; as well as his interaction with Rhys in TFTBL it is very clear Jack loves Angel dearly. When Rhys inquires about the picture Jack gets a little awkward before saying that’s “My Angel” and that he doesn’t usually like people knowing about her, but figures it’s ok since he and Rhys are close. He also says he’d like to check up on her “if that’s cool.”  

There’s no doubt in my mind that Jack loves Angel, and also no doubt that he never intended to do the horrible things he did to her. (Look at what he’s done to her and some of the things he’s said to her. Look at what he put her through. All the abuse she suffered at his hands.) Even if Jack never meant to hurt his daughter, he still did, he became an abuser just like his grandmother. 

But we still have a lot to talk about and a lot to look at. 

Jack finally had a family of his own and it was ripped away by his own daughter, who was just a little girl. 

Jack mentions in both BL2 and TFTBL that Angel did something to her mother and it was after this he locked her up, kept her hidden from the world. He brings up that the Vault Hunter didn’t see what Angel did to her mother and uses this as his reason for locking her up. 

He doesn’t seem to have any anger towards Angel after saying that she betrayed him, even saying that she didn’t have a choice. He also doesn’t say the vault hunters killed Angel, but that she killed herself. Which is true, Angel did want to die, she urges the Vault Hunter to end her life. 

Jack also refused to shut down the Containment Core Angel at the behest of his second wife and co-workers. A malfunction led to dozens of staff being lost, yet he still refused. His refusal to do so led to his second wife to leave him. 

Angel also seems unaware of what happened to her mother, indicating that Jack never told her what she did, or even telling her that she’s dead, only saying that she’s not coming back in the ECHO log. 

It’s possible that Angel believes her father killed her mother. And maybe, he just lets her believe that so she doesn’t have to carry the guilt of it?

There’s no doubt some resentment in Jack’s heart for Angel for killing his wife. It’s something he carries with him, maybe it’s that resentment that allows him to do what he does to Angel. 

Another example of this is presented in Life is Strange and it’s spinoff game Captain Spirit. 

In Life is Strange, Chloe’s father is dead. He died in a car accident and Chloe says that her mother blames herself for it, because she needed a ride home. If Joyce had never called him to pick her up, he never would have taken the car that day, and thus, would never have gotten into the accident that killed him.

Chloe then admits that sometimes she even blames her mother. Even though Chloe knows it isn’t really Joyce’s fault, the blame and resentment are still there, even though Chloe loves her mother dearly. 

In Captain Spirit, Chris is a 10-year-old boy whose mother died in a hit and run accident. Chris’ father while drunk says that if it weren’t for Chris, “she never would’ve taken the car that day.” After realizing what he just said, recoils and says he didn’t mean it, only for Chris’ to scream that he did mean it. 

It may be the same case for Jack and Angel. He loves Angel, but if it weren’t for her, his wife would still be alive. Maybe it’s not something he voices, we don’t know if he ever told Angel, but it is definitely something he would feel. 

Even if he knows that Angel was just a little girl who couldn’t control her powers and that it isn’t her fault, there is that part of Jack that feels like it is. The feeling can’t be stopped from being felt. He can reason with logic and tell himself she was just a little girl and an unfortunate accident happened, but none of that will stop the emotion from being felt. 

He brings Angel’s containment up to the Vault Hunter and says “You didn’t see what she did to her mother.” 

We don’t actually know what happened, we don’t know if Jack was there when it happened, or if he discovered her body later. We also don’t know if Angel suppressed the memory due to the trauma, or if using her power had made her lose consciousness thus never knowing what she had done. 

Jack’s containment of her served as a way to protect her and others most likely, and perhaps part of it may have served,  on a subconscious level, as a punishment for Angel. 

I believe the picture Jack keeps of Angel on his desk is not one of her current self, is because the picture is frozen time. He can look at it and remember a happier time, remember a time before she was a Siren, remember when his little girl was happy and cheerful and when his wife was still alive. 

In Life Is Strange, Chloe’s mother, Joyce, gives Chloe’s best friend a picture taken on the day of Chloe’s dad’s death right before he walked out the door and never came back. Joyce says that it’s the last time she saw her baby happy and vibrant, everything she isn’t now. 

This could be the same thing for Jack and why he keeps that particular picture of Angel. 

In the Pre-Sequel, near the end of the game, the picture on Jack’s desk is facedown which is a cool little detail.

But why is the photo facedown? Some say because he doesn’t want Nisha to know he has a daughter, other say it’s because of shame and is symbolic of Jack not wanting her to see what he is becoming. 

I think it has to do with betrayal. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment in the game where the photo is placed face down (if anyone could find out for me that’d be great) but it seems to be face down after Jack is betrayed by Moxxi, Roland, and Lilith. 

After the betrayal took place, maybe Jack couldn’t handle looking at the picture of Angel. I don’t know exactly what reason he had to place the photo face down. 

We see how distraught he is at Moxxi’s betrayal and he’s turned into a jaded, cold-blooded killer. 

Maybe he really didn’t want his daughter to see him that way, maybe the betrayal caused old wounds to re-open, such as the death of his wife at Angel’s hands so he can’t bear to look at her. 

Maybe it’s Jack acknowledging that the man he was and the life he used to have is completely gone, so he places his reminder of it face down. 

Maybe the sight of Angel’s happy smiling face grounds him and brings him back to reality, but Jack doesn’t want to be grounded right now. Maybe he wants to lose himself in the madness. 

Maybe being called a power-hungry psychopath by someone he trusted (who also tried to kill him) struck a nerve and he put the photo of Angel face down as an apology for enslaving her. Maybe he felt guilty?

Maybe he put the photo face down because he imagined what his wife must have felt like when Angel killed her, or maybe Jack feels he betrayed Angel’s trust by locking her up? Or maybe it’s because he feels betrayed? 

Maybe the fact that both Lilith and Angel are Sirens made him generalize all Sirens (similar to what he does with bandits and vault hunters) 

I really can’t say why he put the photo face down, it could be a number of reasons. It’s a detail that can be easily missed, but it is there for a reason. It’s a subtle and intricate detail showing Jack’s mindset. 

There’s always that possibility that it’s symbolic of “no going back” from the path he has chosen. 

I’ll compare it to Joel’s photo from The Last of Us. Initially, Joel refuses to accept this photograph. Later on, the photo is presented to him again by Ellie where he finally accepts it. He takes a deep breath and says; “Well I guess no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape your past” 

Obviously, Joel and Handsome Jack are completely different characters from completely different games, but hey...I need comparisons here to help paint this picture.

Joel is a character with very little moral boundaries left to cross. He’s a hardened survivor who lost his daughter in the first days of the outbreak and remembering how things used to be vs how they are now was painful. 

There’s also the case of Chloe from Life Is Strange. In the prequel Before The Storm, she sees her father’s car in the junkyard mangled and distorted. She breaks down and writes this in her journal: 

My dead dad's fucking car. The twisted, shattered, ugly reminder of what used to be my life.

I would put my money on Jack’s reasoning being similar to the above. That happy picture of Angel, that reminder of what his life used to be with a wife and daughter vs what it is now. Betrayal at the hands of people he trusted with his life. Just, all the betrayal he suffered even from an early age by his mother and grandmother.

In TFTBL we get a moment where Jack reflects on his life, stating that everyone he cared about ended up betraying him. But, maybe he deserved it. 

Just to add, Jack is from the planet Tantalus. Why is that relevant? Well for those of you who don’t know, Tantalus is a Greek mythological figure famous for his eternal punishment.  

 He was made to stand in a pool of water beneath a fruit tree with low branches, with the fruit ever eluding his grasp, and the water always receding before he could take a drink.

We can look at Jack’s life:

Jack’s father died and his mother abandoned him with his grandmother who smacked him around with a freaking Buzz Axe and drowned his cat because he didn’t make his bed one time. 

Jack gets a family of his own with a beautiful wife and a beautiful baby girl named Angel and lived a seemingly happy life. (We only have context clues to go on we don’t actually know.) 

 His daughter turns out to be a Siren and kills his wife on accident. Angel can’t control her powers so he locks her away to keep her hidden from the world.

His daughter turns out to be really good with technology proving to be a great ally and aids him in his ambition. 

He gets the Eye of the Destroyer integrated into Helios only for his ex-girlfriend he trusted with his life and Lilith and Roland to betray him and try to kill him. Lilith and Moxxi happy and gleeful about it. 

He gets a vault relic punched into his face that permanently scars him.

He loses his daughter even before she dies. She turns against him and helps the people he hates foil his plan by causing her death. Angel just wanted it all to end, saying that Jack ended her life long ago, as far as Angel is concerned she’s already dead. 

He does manage to awake The Warrior and accomplish his ambition but The Warrior is defeated, thus stopping his goal in its tracks. 

He gets Helios back but Rhys crashes all of it into Pandora, so now that’s gone. 

In the end, Jack lost it all. Rhys says as much in TFTBL:

But the tragedy and interesting part about Jack... he seems to be aware of all this in TFTBL, making my previous thought of him turning Angel’s picture face down because it’s a reminder of what his life used to be, and there’s no going back. From that moment, Jack just snowballs into the villain we know now. 

More conversations with Rhys let us poke around in Jack’s mind a bit more. When he brings up how many people were on Helios, and asks Rhys what makes him think he’s the good guy in this scenario, Rhys responses and Jack’s reactions to them reveal a little more about our black-hearted villain. 

After talking about all the lives on Helios, and how many co-workers Rhys ejected out an airlock, stopping at nothing to take Jack down. 

And Jack’s response to Rhys saying “I guess I’ll have to live with that.” lacks “Whatever helps you sleep at night” 

How many times Jack has told himself he has to live with something horrible he’s done? Or how many times he told himself he did what he had to? What exactly went through Jack’s head as Angel grew up, or as he began spiraling down into the villain we know?

Some things to keep in mind from the Pre-Sequel, while he already had Angel enslaved, we see he still has some humanity in him. 

He was going to let the Meriff live, he wasn’t even going to retaliate against him for the betrayal. 

Only for Jack to turn his back and the Meriff tries to shoot him. 

Jack admits he doesn’t like killing after Felicity says she didn’t like killing the Scavs, and Jack does consider copying Felicity until finding out the copy would take too long and a shitload of lives would be lost. Then there are the scientists he airlocks that made Lilith get pretty butthurt, butthurt enough that she’d take out an entire space station with innocent people just to kill Jack, as well as the vault hunter you’re playing as whose just there on a job. 

Anyway...Jack’s dialogue to the scientists he brings up being shot in the back. 

Then again at the very end of the game, Jack mentions being shot in the back again when the player character brings up just avoiding the enemies and running straight to the vault. 

We see first hand in the pre-sequel exactly how Jack falls into villainy and it’s clear the Meriff’s betrayal acted as a catalyst to his ruthless behavior, with Moxxi, Lilith, and Roland’s betrayal breaking him on top of everything he already experienced. 

Though Handsome Jack is gone and most likely won’t be returning for BL3, and even if he somehow did, there’s no chance for redemption. Jack is too far gone to be brought back to the light. As I said before, there is no return from the path he has chosen. 

Jack’s tale is a sad and tragic one. I do believe that he had good intentions, that he had pure motives, but he was blinded by rage and betrayal that he lost sight of what actually mattered, and didn’t realize the harm he was doing to the people he loved. Of course, Jack is not excused from the horrible things he has done but, it’s easy to see why he was filled with such bitterness and hate. 

I would like to see Jack’s life before Angel got her powers. I’d like to see exactly what type of life he had, what type of husband and father he was. 

This is long enough and I have so much more to say, but I’m going to end it here. 

Jack, Butt Stallion says “Hello” 

[tenderthings-archive]

mothers. (ladies of thedas #6)

rating: t

word count: 1k~

prompt: “family & home

summary: the mother we’ve known throughout the series, including leandra hawke; kalah brosca; fiona; morrigan; eleanor cousland; and flemeth.

warning(s): mentioned & depicted child abuse, alcoholism, death

a/n: i’m so busy, this’ll have to be my last addition. i really wanted to write this piece, however, so here it is.

for ladies of thedas appreciation week 2018: (x)

i. “You don’t know my mother.”

Malcolm promises open skies, fields of gold, a farm stretching as far as the eye can see. He gives her that, in Lothering. His brown skin glistens, bones finally free, working the land. She stays indoors, a hand on her swollen belly, feet sore. Fingers poised for needlework learn how to peel, cut, and scrape together a meal barely fit for dogs. Her eldest is bright and growing like a weed. All her clothes and toys will be passed down, so Leandra tells her to be careful, but she runs and dances in the grass. A twinkle on her fingertips, happy, hotter than the sun. Then, she comes home with half her dress in cinders, soot mixed with sweat.

Leandra yells until her voice breaks, a two-year old faced with every ache and bad day no woman her age should know. Little Hawke runs, in tears, her father behind her. A panicked glance back. The front door slams. Leandra stays in the kitchen, if it can be called that. She loves her husband. She loves her children, but it takes returning to Kirkwall to realize she never loved her life with them.

ii. “Dust town, it sticks to the skin.”

Two men come, two men leave. There’s a joke to be made, so she makes it, then takes another swing. It irks to know they’re both girls. At least Rica has pretty skin and ruby hair, like her father or maybe her mother, before the dirt sunk in. The younger one stays out of sight so it’s hard to remember if she’s pretty, or dead, or pretty dead. Some days, she forgets whose who, or if she had one or three or none. Other days, she puts down the bottle and cries all night. By morning, she’s drunk again. Rica teaches her sister how to stop hurting every time she yells, spits, hits. Within a few years, baby Brosca stops flinching and starts swinging her fists. Her eldest holds back  tears when she returns from her first job, covered bruises. Kalah says nothing when she pries the pennies from her daughter’s bawled, swollen fingers.

If sorrow had a smell, it would be their mother’s rancid breath. Rica makes her sister promise to never drink. (Does it count if its blood?)

iii. “My mother was a serving girl at the castle.”

The older she grows, the less cruel winter feels. With the world covered in snow, she imagines children tucked away, safe and warm in their beds. A mother kissing their foreheads goodnight; a father shutting the door behind her. At last, content. Her baby, now a man, with holes in his socks and a thick coat hand-stitched by someone he loves, speaks to the crowd. Like Maric, he glows. The people are drawn to his radiance, his cheer, his laugh. There is so little of Fiona in him. His ears, for one, but his smile— With a tremble, she realizes he has her smile. At this distance, who could be sure, but she could hold a mirror to her face, see all her lines, her pain, her dark skin, and find her smile again. 

As the snowflakes fall, Fiona steps back from the crowd, a king’s voice calling for family. Union. Sacrifice. Her heart is full and, for a moment, healed. She laughs when light peeks through the cold and the white city streets shimmer, like her son’s eyes. She walks freely at last.

iv. “Now the sharp edges have worn away. Perhaps it was Kieran.”

She never names the boy by her side while she serves the empress. She never raises her voice beyond a mummer, a sing-song sigh before he returns to her, giggling. She never pulls him along, only offers an outstretched hand that he takes, every time. She never chastises him for his love of all things occult, ethereal and untouchable. She never chases him unless he wants her to, running through a hall of mirrors, laughs echoing, a chill spreading through the palace. She never kisses him in public, but peppers his face with frantic worry when he disappear for an hour too long, a pull from beyond the Veil tickling at his feet. She never wants for anything but him, safe. She never tries anything but her best, facing down an old god, offering her soul, only to be saved by someone very much like her old friend.

He never dreams the same way again, but his mother will always be there to hold back the darkness.

v. “Goodbye, darling.”

In her youth, men tripped over their own feet to meet her on the battlefield. It warms her heart to know her daughter will be the same— rattling her older brother half to death, a bucket of grasshoppers found with his things. Eleanor bites her lip and elbows her husband for laughing along. She takes her by the ear, then wears out the other with talk of ladies, manners, and rules. A bruised-kneed child blooms before her eyes. In time, Eleanor stops trying to make a rose out of her; she’s already covered in thorns. Instead, she holds her hand as tight as she can and kisses each knuckle. She goes back to the nights spent counting her baby girl’s fingers and toes. She jumped so much in her belly, Bryce was scared she’d be born a toad.

Now, she counts her freckles, eyelashes, scars, birthmarks, the days spent together, the years they will now be apart. She recollects everything, every memory and apology never spoken but understood, if only to breathe what she can back into Bryce’s body. When the soldiers come, she is alone but she doesn’t die feeling so.

vi. “I am many things, but I will not be the mother you were to me.

She remembers all of them: the first girl dying in her arms, less than an hour old, and every baby after that. The last one is special, however. Charged by a thunder storm on the night of her birth, only to discover she was small, barely breathing. Too little godliness in her but plenty of the earth. She took to nature and breathed in the rage, rot, and reward of the old woods, yet coveted mankind’s toys. A magpie twisted into a raven, wings blackened, a shade more beautiful than even her mother. It was never jealousy, rarely greed, every time she bent the child’s arm and told her to be savage, not exotic. There is no greater cruelty than love. She learned faster than the others, but grew, gnarled, as a willow tree. Rarely, did her babies ever weep, but Morrigan cried. Morrigan cried until she was empty, then she was cold, then she was gone.

Mythal chides her for ever  thinking she was too soft, too different from the People. Flemeth silences her for the first time in a thousand years. Looking down at her sleeping grandson, she knows softness was never the problem. Motherhood was.

[avengers-nextgen]

The Year Between I

Smoke wafted up into the dark starry sky billowing in a steady plume. Thalia sat beside Trud; the first Asgardian she’d discovered.

His grey eyes gleamed in the silver light of the moon and his calloused hands were spread open with the palms exposed.

He was a story teller to the very bones reveling as the others looked intently at him . There was Astrid the youngest of them, Bior the Warrior, the Triplets Eirick, Eidysen, and Eileen, Marti the Wise, Kanai the Brilliant, and Flemeth the Cunning.

Thalia found them scattered about the globe participating in all walks of life, blending into the crowd, living naturally, and biting their nails in worry that Thanos would return for them.

Now, the band of Asgardian descendants smiled, laughed, joked, and played in a merry burst of enthusiasm. It was beautiful and Thalia was proud she’d brought them together.

Trud cried the first night they all camped together side by side. It had been ages since he’d been surrounded by his own people, people who loved his stories, people who valued his wisdom, and people he could one day trust with the future of Asgard.

Naturally each individual asked about Thor, to which Thalia had to make a quick reply that wasn’t entirely true. He was waiting to meet all of them. She couldn’t bare telling them that he’d given up hope of ever restoring Asgard to its true nature.

“One stop remains,” Trud determined, glancing over Thalia’s shoulder at the leather notebook upon her lap.

“Yes, a small town on the outskirts of New York.” Thalia informed, crossing off a red marking on a small map glued to the next page. “We will leave at sun rise. It’s a long travel.”

“I see,” Trud nodded, clasping his hands together, “do not lose hope little friend. Even if it is unsuccessful this journey of yours has been remarkable.”

“Indeed,” Thalia smiled kindly at the man. “I’ll make my final notes, then I suggest your retire as I do.”

“Oh,” Trud chuckled, “you need not worry about these old bones. I can take care of myself.”

— — —

Thalia stood at the opening of the auto shop garage with her thumbs tucked into the straps of her backpack. She was nervous, she never knew how the other Asgardians would react. There had been two she’d found that refused her services. She didn’t want a repeat of that instance.

Gathering herself, Thalia marched into the warm garage with her chin held high. The smell came with a wave of nostalgia, the grease, oil, scent of iron, and rust reminded Thalia of Piper. Piper and the workshop.

A person was welding something to the underside edge of a car frame. A thick lensed mask covered their features and the noise disguised Thalia’s original approach.

“Are you lost kid?” Thalia startled and immediately summoned her swords to hand. She spun lithely to hold them at the throat of a woman who arched her brow curiously. “Well, this is interesting.”

“What’s the matter now?” The muffled voice of the welder arched in their direction.

“S-sorry. You frightened me.” Thalia stammered. The other woman had dark skin and hair, strong shoulders, and a warrior’s build. “Valkyrie?”

“How-“ The woman studied Thalia closely and a look of recognition passed across her face. “Well I’ll be damned.”

“I’ve heard of you! My father says you’re one of the fiercest warriors ever known. You rode into battle upon the back of a Pegasus.” Thalia’s swords vanished and she clasped her hands together in excitement. “It’s exciting to meet you. There’s others I’ve found. See, I’m trying to discover other Asgardians. I wanted to see who survived.”

“Did Thor send you to do this?” Valkyrie questioned taking Thalia’s notebook-which Thalia had eagerly thrust into her hands.

“No, he believed everyone to be dead.” Thalia frowned.

“Sounds about right.” Thalia remembered the other person and she glanced over her shoulder in confusion. The welder slipped off the mask and tossed it irritably aside where it landed with a clunk.

“Come on, don’t be like that. She doesn’t know.” Valkyrie rolled her eyes and happily handed the notebook back to Thalia.

The young princess turned on her heel and scrambled over to stop the other woman in her tracks. “Who are you? Are you also one of the Valkyries?”

“I’m a god.” Came the curt reply.

“My father’s a god.” Thalia’s face lit up happily. “He’d be happy to have another friend.”

“He had friends once upon a time.” She replied. “He’s lost them.”

“What do you mean? Did they all die?” Thalia’s face fell.

“No, he’s changed. He’s not the person we all knew,” Valkyrie sighed.

“Oh...I see. Well, I know he’s not the best.” Thalia scuffed her shoe on the floor. “But I’m not like him.”

“You have his genes.” The Welder remarked.

“And she has yours too.” Valkyrie scowled. Silence settled over the room and the welder’s fists clenched hard enough for her knuckles to turn white.

“I-I don’t understand.” Thalia shook her head. The other woman was tall, strong, with brown hair, a sturdy jaw, calculating eyes, and a sense of purpose rolling from her. “I’ve only known my father. He always said my mother was mortal.”

“He lied to you. For his own sake and your own. I’m surprised he even kept the blades.”

“What? These?” Thalia’s swords appeared once more and she examined them closely. As far as she could remember she’d always had them. “Were they yours?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you?” Thalia’s question was hesitant.

“Asgardian, goddess of war, strategist, champion of Odin, and my name is Lady Sif.” Thalia’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“You broke her,” Valkyrie snorted studying Thalia’s dumbfounded expression.

“I did no such thing.” Sif frowned, looking pointedly at the other woman.

“Y-you’re...how?” Thalia barely managed to speak.

— — —

Thalia returned to the others telling them to stay put. After that, she went back inside and followed the goddess of war to an adjoining little house.

“What does a god of war do in an auto shop?”

“Try to blend in. It keeps me busy and I don’t have to think.” Sif explained with a sigh. Thalia nodded and remained quiet until they entered a tiny living room. The young blonde eagerly took a seat on the couch.

“So you say you’re my mother.” Thalia noted. “I feel as if I should be more excited but I’m mostly confused.”

“As you should be,” Sif’s irritability seemed to have subsided slightly. The warrior took a seat across from Thalia and rested her elbows upon her knees. “You wouldn’t remember me.”

“Was I young when I left you?”

“Three months old.” Sif nodded. “Hardly developed enough to even understand what was happening.”

“Why did I go?” Thalia asked. The goddess was surprised by the vulnerability in the young girl’s eyes.

“Your Uncle was furious. Not that I blame him. Thor was afraid he’d retaliate to hurt you.” Sif anxiously cracked her knuckles.

“You mean when my dad hurt Sage.” Thalia sighed. Sif only hummed in agreement. “Was he not worried about you?”

“Your father was a very different man. War changed him, grief changed him, he’s colder, distant, and I understand it. His own father was like that. It becomes hard not to run off of self preservation.” Thalia listened carefully. She‘d always wondered what had changed her father. “We were friends ever since childhood. There used to be a time where I did love him.”

“Was that when you both made me?” Thalia asked hopefully.

“No.” Sif pursed her lips. “No, that’s another story.”

“He returned in search of Asgardians like you did. He had hope and when little turned up-well, he was sad and angry. Everyone was too afraid to risk coming out of hiding.” The goddess stood at last seeming to have too much nervous energy to be sitting. She paced slowly across the floor. “I was one of the few who greeted him with open arms as an old friend. He needed support and I offered it. I couldn’t exactly turn away the person I grew up with.”

“I understand.” Thalia nodded.

“It was strange seeing the king of Asgard so fragile. He really was worn thin.” Sif’s expression grew sad. “He mistook old feelings as love and one thing led to another.”

“Were you happy?”

“I wish I could say yes.” Sif swallowed hard, “but it’s difficult when you’re accidentally called someone else’s name.”

“Who?”

“Jane.” Sif noted. The goddess didn’t despise the mortal. She despised Thor’s inability to understand the sensitivity of certain things. “That’s who he really adores. She is a beautiful girl, intelligent too, and certainly someone destined for good things.”

“You could come back home with me? The others too.” Thalia offered.

“No. I like my life here, and I can’t afford to reopen that chapter of my life.” The goddess sat down once more.

“What about me? I want to get to know you. I’ve waited ages for this and-well, I like you.” Thalia stammered out bashfully.

“I’ve been out of your life for ages, Thalia. I hardly know you.” Sif’s voice cracked.

“Of course you know me.” Thalia protested, “you gave birth to me. Dad wasn’t the one who had me. Did you name me?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know me.” Thalia held her head high. “And I know you. Whether I remember it or not.”

“I don’t want to be someone’s second choice again. I’m tired of it.” Sif shook her head.

“I was someone’s second choice. It’s not always a bad thing. Maybe father was wrong in what happened but you’re my first choice. You’re my mother.” Thalia stared intently at the woman sitting across from her. She wasn’t willing to take no for an answer.

“I don’t know how to be a mother. I don’t know how to be what you need.”

“Yes you do. It’s hard growing up as a little girl without a mother, but you can still help me. I can still learn from you.” Thalia smiled warmly. “This is an opportunity to make up for lost time.”

“I don’t know, Thalia. Part of me wants to, but there’s people here who also count on me. This is a business after all.” Sif bit her lip in contemplation.

“I’m not expecting an immediate decision,” Thalia blurted our hurriedly, “just think on it. Please?”

“Of course.” Sif nodded. A long pause settled over the both of them for a moment before Thalia tackled her in a hug. Sif held her tightly for a moment before letting go. She remembered when Thalia was small. She remembered having to let her go. — — —

Thalia was as excitable as ever, rain was slapping against the windows and her little eyes lit up excitedly with each burst of lightening.

“You like the storm baby girl?” Sif scooped up the little blonde baby with ease and settled her on her hip. “The Thunder makes big old noises huh?”

“Blah be buh!” Thalia squealed sticking her fist in her mouth and gumming her fingers. Sif just laughed and pressed a light kiss to the girl’s head. Soft blonde hair tickled her nose causing it to scrunch.

“You’re going to make big storms like that one day.” Sif whispered softly. Thalia went still in her arms, always able to settle and focus when her mother talked, and she glanced up at the woman with a drooly smile. “Or you’re just going to drool on everything.”

“Buga de birrr!” Thalia buzzed her lips together and giggled happily.

“Geez, you’re loud!”

A knock on the door sounded in between a clash of thunder. Sighing, Sif set Thalia down into her little seat and went to greet whoever was there. Swinging the door open the goddess’ eyes widened to find Thor soaked to the bone. “What-“

“Listen to me, it’s an emergency.” Sif said nothing as she stepped aside letting him in. “I’ve done something terrible. I-I can’t...Thalia is in danger now.”

“What?!”

“I need to keep her safe.” Thor breathed running a hand down his wet face.

“She’s safe here.” Sif protested and crossed her arms.

“Not from my brother.”

“What did you do?” She demanded. Thor gave a rushed explanation as he scooped Thalia from her seat.

“Em memen.” Thalia frowned, her eyebrows scrunching up.

“Hi baby.” Thor smiled thinly.

“We need to talk about this. Put her down.” The goddess’ voice was firm and threatening. Thor obliged knowing very well what kind of trouble Sif’s temperament could bring.

The two had no more than a heated five minute discussion. Sif was adamant that Thalia wasn’t to leave her care but she also knew that Thor was partially correct. Thalia was in danger but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

But just like that they left and the house was quiet except for the rain. She’d never felt more empty than in that moment. People didn’t understand what it was like being a mother. A child was a part of you, a small little piece that was put into another tiny human, it was incredible.

What’s more, Sif never wanted to be a mother but it had become something she didn’t want to trade for the world.

— — —

It’s hard to stare at your daughter nearly full grown when you remember her being three months old. Once chubby with baby fat but now sturdy and strong with age. Someone who couldn’t talk that was now so efficient with a sophisticated English she could master any conversation. A kid who couldn’t eat anything that was now capable of eating everything in a fridge. Sif had lost something no mother should have, and that was watching their child grow up. Thor had experienced something he had no right to, and it had deprived the goddess of a sense in purpose, and she couldn’t understand how in the world the girl in front of her could really need her. Not when she was so capable. Capable enough to cross countries on her own.