#Gardhe and Silamir on one side as authoritarian parents

[gailynovelry]

So uh. Gods as parents (love them) (fear them) (they shaped you) (they had a history long before you) (they don't tell you half as much as you think they should) (you are a part of their history now) (they want what is best for you) (or it is what is best for them?) (you tremble against their authority) (you want them to be okay as much as they want it for you) (they have expectations) (you have doubts) (do you want to be a part of this household?)

Relevant excerpts from Heralds of Rhimn;

Silamir shrugged, a single predatory motion that stemmed as much from her spine as her shoulders. “I told you what you wanted to hear, did I not? I answered your question.” “That is not enough.” “Then you do it because I am a higher power,” the goddess stated simply. “You are the flesh of my soul. I gave you your second birth. I brought you back from death. Without me, you would not even be alive to slander my name. It is your duty to raise yourself up in my eyes. And currently, you are trying my patience.” Navaeli shook her head. Her voice shook too. “No. Give me a real reason.”

—Shadow Herald, CH 30

“That is what I am counting on, and that is why I will give you my blessing in your endeavors. Now, that should be our promise to Iriah fulfilled,” the god said, seeming to speak to themself as their sketch relaxed into its original pose. “And before summer’s end at that.” “Hold up — who’s Iriah? What promise?” Crislie waited with an agonizing patience for the artwork to move again and explain itself. But Thah’s sketch had stilled. She once again had the sneaking suspicion that they were deliberately withholding things from her. Prophesy, as a concept, had always disturbed her. It raised more questions about the nature of reality than it would ever answer. “You can’t just start telling me important things and not clarify a lick of it. Vague little bastard,” she muttered, kicking the wall.

—Winter Herald, CH 14

“The gods have vast minds, old minds, minds filled with the movement of nature and civilization,” the wife said with a patient shake of her head. “You have to forgive them if they cannot remember everything you tell them. It’s like I have to remind my old ajk jhuura — bless her — to comb her hair every morning.”

—Ember Warrior, CH 15

Upon receiving the offering, the goddess’ presence stirred, like an old beast rolling over in its lair. Crislie tasted blood again. “Kin,” echoed brightly amid the rocks. “Good evening, Grandmother,” Ellie said. “Good rest?” The voice grew soft with longing. “Dreamt moonlight. Dreamt dim. Dreamt starlight.” “Aye, an old dream then. You can rest easy now when we leave. We’re dedicating another hunt to you, and that oughta give you good dreams for a while.” [. . .] Ellie butted her head affectionately against the moonrocks, and bowed away. “Dream of full bellies and naps under the open sky next, mmmkay?” “Dreaming of you.” “D’aww.”

—Ember Warrior, CH 22

She approached the altar with a slinking trepidation, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t want Ellie to hear this. “Why? Why did you do this to me?” “Arm my kin. With teeth, with claws. Survive for me.” Her claws clicked against the stone as she paced. “Is that your answer? Really? Is it? I was already armed. I’ll have you know, I’m no good with reverence, if that’s a thing you expect. I don’t trust gods. Don’t have any good reason to, not after all the horrible things you guys keep doing and doing to everyone I know. I’m sick and tired of it.” “Trust . . .” The goddess trailed off, voice fragmenting, before gathering her full thought. “Trust people?” “Gods aren’t people.” “Trust people?”

—Ember Warrior, CH 22

I did forget to take my sleep medicine last night, so I’m a little funny today, but; gods as parents. I will elaborate later.