#I NEED MORE MOTHER DAUGHTER

[ganeshpnf]

Its a really cool and detailed analysis! *My happiness after seeing a post about this duo XD*

I agree some parts but I would have to say they really made up off-screen, because it would be hilarious if they didn't. They look pretty cool in the cotg, Athena even helping Percy for her sake. And yeah restoring her cap when Annabeth and Sadie were fighting fogether. I am very mad at Rick for not adding it to the books, even though Annabeth wasn't the main after the boo. But I wish they at least implied it better.

Also I would still have to argue with the Minerva part, because its obvious that Minerva hates herself. She hates herself more than anyone hates her 😭 She is not right, dont get me wrong. But she is definitely not Athena. And tbf, Annabeth didn't know most about Roman/Greek thing until Aphrodite spoke about the issue.

And I think Annabeth must have seen her mother before ttc and even tlt(when she got her cap), my guess ofc because like girl literally yelled at her mother in front of the other gods lmao- And not to mention, got a mom look 😭 I think they met before lmao- My guess is when Annabeth was on the streets at the age of 7, she even stated her mother guided her and protected her until she met Luke and Thalia.

So yeah, in brief, we could have an amazing scene woth two of them talking, Annabeth speaking up her mind and Athena at least trying to apologize. Just a perfecf mother-daughter scene yk? But we were robbed- 😭

But hey, thats when fanfics exist ;)

Out of curiosity, I went ahead and compiled all the known canonical interactions between Annabeth and Athena, specifically focusing on them actually conversing or meeting in person.

(For those who are curious about the numbers but are scared off by the massive wall of text, from what I can tell Athena has directly interacted with her daughter somewhere between 4 to 8 times in her life.

Two of the " 8 " are hypothetical but not confirmed based on the existence of the Yankees cap and it's behavior before and after Heroes of Olympus. One moment I personally don't count as actually being Athena so much as Annabeth's inner voice, but is up for interpretation. And the last questionable moment is where Athena's voice does speak to her but Annabeth does not actually interact with her mom beyond hearing that.

So I would say the most solid number cannon number is probably 4. )

Possibly something happened pre-series when Annabeth first got her hat. We don't actually know how that went down. But if there's a pre series meeting, that's the most likely spot.

Nothing in TLT. Athena's presence is felt but that's because of how oriented Annabeth and her siblings are initially to Athena's presumed will

Nothing in SOM that I remember. She's following in the footsteps of her mother's favorite, but Athena herself doesn't really have a role.

They do get to meet in TTC. Athena says more or less that she's proud of Annabeth then turns around and suggests killing Thalia and Percy.

It is low key interesting to me that this is probably one of the high points in what we see of their relationship, but this announcement of Annabeth having done well is addressed to the crowd, not Annabeth herself.

Annabeth interrupts Athena to protest the first time she advocates for killing Percy, but Athena cuts her off still without speaking to her

The goddess Athena cleared her throat and sat forward. “I am proud of my daughter as well. But there is a security risk here with the other two.”

“Mother!” Annabeth said. “How can you—”

Athena cut her off with a calm but firm look.

The second time Annabeth protests is the only time Athena speaks to Annabeth directly, but the use of 'exasperated' here is interesting in setting the tone of that interaction:

“Two years for Kronos to deceive you,” Athena said. “Much can change in two years, my young hero.” “Mother!” Annabeth said, exasperated. “It is only the truth, child. It is bad strategy to keep the animal alive. Or the boy.”

Of course Percy also meets Athena here and that's about Annabeth if not with Annabeth- first Athena giving him the clue/inspiration to escape the Hoover Dam, and then Athena telling him more or less to stay away from her daughter.

When Annabeth interrupts the later conversation, Athena leaves. It does make sense in the context of 'she was literally just giving Percy the shovel talk' but it is mildly interesting that this in an opportunity where she could speak directly to her daughter- and maybe she did!- but all we see on screen is her walking away

Also the shift from Mother to Mom, which very likely is just the social context unless you want to read into that ellipsis

“Percy!” Annabeth said, running through the crowd. She stopped short when she saw who I was talking to. “Oh…Mom.” “I will leave you,” Athena said. “For now.”

They don't meet or talk in BOTL and aren't mentioned as having done so between that summer and the previous winter. Athena continues to have an important presence through her history with Daedelus and the other gods identifying Annabeth as her daughter, but doesn't actually appear.

TLO is a lot more significant not in terms of quantity of interactions, but in terms of impact. First, Athena sends a warning/strategic advice to both Percy and Annabeth via Hermes. Including more disapproval for Percy/Annabeth

"[Athena] wanted to come back herself, but Zeus was not going to let his number one strategist leave his side while we’re battling Typhon. And so naturally he sent me to talk to you.” ...

...“Please, Hermes,” Annabeth said. “You said my mother wanted to come. Did she give you any messages for us?”...

...“Bah,” Hermes said. “Your mother said to warn you that you are on your own. You must hold Manhattan without the help of the gods. As if I didn’t know that. Why they pay her to be the wisdom goddess, I’m not sure.”

“Anything else?” Annabeth asked.

“She said you should try plan twenty-three. She said you would know what that meant.”

Annabeth’s face paled. Obviously she knew what it meant, and she didn’t like it. “Go on.”

“Last thing.” Hermes looked at me. “She said to tell Percy: ‘Remember the rivers.’ And, um, something about staying away from her daughter.”

And this is of course where we get the single most positive interaction between the two of them in all of the series

Athena called, “Annabeth Chase, my own daughter.”

Annabeth squeezed my arm, then walked forward and knelt at her mother’s feet.

Athena smiled. “You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympus is…well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements.”

Annabeth looked up, stunned. “My…my lady?”

Athena smiled wryly. “You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?”

“You mean…I can design whatever I want?”

“As your heart desires,” the goddess said. “Make us a city for the ages.”

“As long as you have plenty of statues of me,” Apollo added.

“And me,” Aphrodite agreed.

“Hey, and me!” Ares said. “Big statues with huge wicked swords and—”

“All right!” Athena interrupted. “She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympus.”

We don't have much Annabeth in TLH or SON so no real opportunities for anything there. I did do a keyword search for both "mother" and "Athena" to make sure I didn't miss some reference to something that happened off screen, but I didn't see anything.

Mark of Athena... Well. I'm gonna put the cut here because obviously there's a lot to say from here on.

Right off the bat in chapter one, we take a nose dive from the high point of TLO. We see the specifics of the meeting that Annabeth is referring to later in the book, but I still feel like the first description is useful information:

Annabeth wished she could pray to her mother for guidance, but that wasn’t possible now. Not after last month, when she’d had that horrible encounter with her mom and gotten the worst present of her life.…

And we get hints again when Annabeth receives her prophecy from Ella. Again this should probably all be one singular bullet point since it's just one meeting, but I found the lead up to the reveal too interesting

“The Mark of Athena burns through Rome,” Ella continued, cupping her hands over her ears and raising her voice. “Twins snuff out the angel’s breath, Who holds the key to endless death. Giants’ bane stands gold and pale, Won through pain from a woven jail.”

The effect was like someone dropping a flash grenade on the table. Everyone stared at the harpy. No one spoke. Annabeth’s heart was pounding. The Mark of Athena…She resisted the urge to check her pocket, but she could feel the silver coin growing warmer—the cursed gift from her mother. Follow the Mark of Athena. Avenge me.

She tells Percy about it eventually, though not in moment by moment detail

A sense of dread settled over [Percy]. “Why? Have you seen Athena?”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “A few weeks ago,” she admitted. “It…it wasn’t good. She didn’t seem like herself. Maybe it’s the Greek/Roman schizophrenia that Nemesis described. I’m not sure. She said some hurtful things. She said I had failed her.”

“Failed her?” Percy wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. Annabeth was the perfect demigod child. She was everything a daughter of Athena should be. “How could you ever—?”

“I don’t know,” she said miserably. “On top of that, I’ve been having nightmares of my own. They don’t make as much sense as yours.”

Then we finally get the details of Annabeth's interaction with Minerva/Athena. And it is identified as being Minerva however...

Minerva is the way she is because she recognizes herself as a reduction/fragment of Athena. Like explicitly she talks about what the Romans have "done to her" in changing her from the Greek Athena to the Roman Minerva. She gets mad when Annabeth calls her Minerva even.

Minerva's anger and violence are rooted in her internal indenfication with her past as Athena and her hatred for what the Romans did to the Greeks specifically. Minerva and Athena are deeply intertwined.

We also still count Nico and Hazel & Thalia and Jason as being siblings despite the Greek/Roman divide.

I will give you the fact that Minerva doesn't recognize Annabeth here and her judgement is impacted. But IMO I don't think it's fair to 100% disconnect this conversation from Athena even if it is Minerva in this scene. And it is a doozy of a scene.

She had just passed Sweet on America, the candy shop where Percy’s mom used to work, and was thinking about going inside to buy some blue candy for old times’ sake, when she saw Athena studying the subway map on the wall.

“Mother!” Annabeth couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t seen her mom in months—not since Zeus had closed the gates of Olympus and forbidden all communication with demigods. Many times, Annabeth had tried to call on her mom anyway, pleading for guidance, sending up burnt offerings with every meal at camp. She’d had no response. Now here was Athena, dressed in jeans and hiking boots and a red flannel shirt, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She held a backpack and a walking stick like she was prepared for a long journey.

“I must return home,” Athena murmured, studying the map. “The way is complex. I wish Odysseus were here. He would understand.”

“Mom!” Annabeth said. “Athena!” The goddess turned. She seemed to look right through Annabeth with no recognition.

“That was my name,” the goddess said dreamily. “Before they sacked my city, took my identity, made me this.” She looked at her clothes in disgust. “I must return home.”

Annabeth stepped back in shock. “You’re…you’re Minerva?”

“Don’t call me that!” The goddess’s gray eyes flared with anger. “I used to carry a spear and a shield. I held victory in the palm of my hand. I was so much more than this.”

“Mom.” Annabeth’s voice trembled. “It’s me, Annabeth. Your daughter.”

“My daughter…” Athena repeated. “Yes, my children will avenge me. They must destroy the Romans. Horrible, dishonorable, copycat Romans. Hera argued that we must keep the two camps apart. I said, No, let them fight. Let my children destroy the usurpers.”

Annabeth’s heartbeat thumped in her ears. “You wanted that? But you’re wise. You understand warfare better than any—”

“Once!” the goddess said. “Replaced. Sacked. Looted like a trophy and carted off—away from my beloved homeland. I lost so much. I swore I would never forgive. Neither would my children.”

She focused more closely on Annabeth. “You are my daughter?”

“Yes.” The goddess fished something from the pocket of her shirt—an old-fashioned subway token—and pressed it into Annabeth’s hand. “Follow the Mark of Athena,” the goddess said. “Avenge me.”

Annabeth had looked at the coin. As she watched, it changed from a New York subway token to an ancient silver drachma, the kind used by Athenians. It showed an owl, Athena’s sacred animal, with an olive branch on one side and a Greek inscription on the other.

The Mark of Athena.

At the time, Annabeth had had no idea what it meant. She didn’t understand why her mom was acting like this. Minerva or not, she shouldn’t be so confused.

“Mom…” She tried to make her tone as reasonable as possible. “Percy is missing. I need your help.”

She had started to explain Hera’s plan for bringing the camps together to battle Gaea and the giants, but the goddess stamped her walking stick against the marble floor.

“Never!” she said. “Anyone who helps Rome must perish. If you would join them, you are no child of mine. You have already failed me.”

“Mother!”

“I care nothing about this Percy. If he has gone over to the Romans, let him perish. Kill him. Kill all the Romans. Find the Mark, follow it to its source. Witness how Rome has disgraced me, and pledge your vengeance.”

“Athena isn’t the goddess of revenge.” Annabeth’s nails bit into her palms. The silver coin seemed to grow warmer in her hand. “Percy is everything to me.”

“And revenge is everything to me,” the goddess snarled. “Which of us is wiser?”

“Something is wrong with you. What’s happened?”

“Rome happened!” the goddess said bitterly. “See what they have done, making a Roman of me. They wish me to be their goddess? Then let them taste their own evil. Kill them, child.”

“No!”

“Then you are nothing.” The goddess turned to the subway map. Her expression softened, becoming confused and unfocused. “If I could find the route…the way home, then perhaps—But, no. Avenge me or leave me. You are no child of mine.”

Annabeth’s eyes stung. She thought of a thousand horrible things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She had turned and fled.

She’d tried to throw away the silver coin, but it simply reappeared in her pocket, the way Riptide did for Percy. Unfortunately, Annabeth’s drachma had no magical powers—at least nothing useful. It only gave her nightmares, and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t get rid of it.

And to my point earlier, even if fans want to pin this interaction on just Minerva, Annabeth still clearly identifies it as being an interaction with her mother, even well after she knows about the Greek/Roman divide.

Since Annabeth’s argument with Athena, the cap had lost its magic. Annabeth wasn’t sure why, but she’d stubbornly brought it along on the quest. Every morning she would try it on, hoping it would work again. So far it had only served as a reminder of her mother’s wrath.

She then hears her mother's voice in the civil war fort. To be fair, this is not actually a conversation so much as her hearing her mother's voice, and it is implied by Aphrodite that this might be subconscious but I'm still counting it for the purpose of record keeping.

Gaea’s voice faded. On the far wall, in the center of the spider swarm, a red symbol blazed to life: the figure of an owl like the one on the silver drachma, staring straight at Annabeth. Then, just as in her nightmares, the Mark of Athena burned across the walls, incinerating the spiders until the room was empty except for the smell of sickly sweet ashes. Go, said a new voice—Annabeth’s mother. Avenge me. Follow the Mark.

We do get mention of a 'voice' when Annabeth is on the quest. I do not personally interpret it as being Athena, and Annabeth seems to dismiss that possibility after a moment, but since the possibility is raised and not conclusively answered, I am including it for completeness' sake

You’ve got your intelligence, a voice said. Annabeth wondered if Athena was speaking to her, but that was probably just wishful thinking.

Not getting a full quote here, but notably there's no sign of an interaction from Athena either when Annabeth tells Arachne that the spider-woman is better than Athena OR when Annabeth prays:

"But the Athena Parthenos was free. Please wake up, Annabeth begged the statue. Mother, help me.

I wasn't in any way expecting Athena to react to that prayer, and I know 'divine laws' is the normal explanation but I am genuinely interested in what makes this moment from Percy at the arch. Not sarcastically, I just wish we had a little bit clearer of an idea of how things worked.

Then we finally get to House of Hades, where Annabeth is of course in Tartarus. To the best of my knowledge, her only direct interaction with Athena is through one of the demigod 's prophetic dreams where Athena praises her and then gives her another task/warning.

In the darkness below stood Reyna, the praetor of New Rome. Her cloak was the color of blood fresh from a vein. Her gold armor glinted. She stared up, her face regal and distant, and spoke directly into Annabeth’s mind.

You have done well, Reyna said, but the voice was Athena’s. The rest of my journey must be on the wings of Rome

. The praetor’s dark eyes turned as gray as storm clouds.

I must stand here, Reyna told her. The Roman must bring me.

In terms of plot/timing this really does make sense as a very short/driven/focused conversation. Please do not take this as me saying they should have had a mother-daughter therapy session here.

But what makes the content of this dream stand out more is that as far as I know, it's the only time Athena ever acknowledges the Mark of Athena quest at all when talking to her daughter, and the closest they come to discussing Tartarus. Which they didn't.

BOO doesn't have anything written from Annabeth or Percy's point of view, reducing what we are able to know about Annabeth and Athena. They do fight together, just like the other members of the seven and their parents, but it's from Jason's point of view so we get a distant observation with no emotion or dialogue attached.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw Annabeth fighting Enceladus. At her side stood a woman with long dark hair and golden armor over her white robes. The goddess thrust her spear at the giant, then brandished her shield with the fearsome bronzed visage of Medusa. Together, Athena and Annabeth drove Enceladus back into the nearest wall of metal scaffolding, which collapsed on top of him.

Afterwards, we get a description of Athena interacting with Hermes, who is apparently trying to ignore her, but nothing with Annabeth. They both participate in the conversation with Zeus, but don't speak or respond to one another.

Annabeth is not a focus in any of the books of TOA, so of course there are no interactions there.

She may or may not have mentioned something that happened off-screen in the Magnus Chase books, but I don't know since I haven't read them. I wouldn't bet on it.

Finally, as of the writing of this post, the last PJO book we have is Chalice of the Gods. Athena interacts directly with Percy on screen, but not Annabeth. It is very strongly suggested that Athena assists Percy for Annabeth's sake.

We do get a mention of Annabeth's hat working again (as Percy needs it for the plot) and then there is a mention of it now causing discomfort to the user and Athena doing it on purpose to remind her child that power has a price.

We know for a fact that it did NOT work this way when Percy used it in either TLT or TTC. I would put my money on Rick just...forgetting that

but from an in universe context we might take it to imply Athena added a price to the use of the gift after Heroes of Olympus and somehow explained her reasoning to Annabeth. (I will leave my emotions about this scene for a different post.)

“Thanks for the loan of the Yankees cap, by the way,” I said. “You never told me it makes you uncomfortable when you wear it.”

She gave me a one-shoulder shrug. “All power has a price. Even being invisible. My mom taught me that a long time ago.” She sounded wistful, maybe a little sad, but not resentful.

She had apparently accepted the way the world worked according to Athena, even if she didn’t always agree, even if it sometimes didn’t make any more sense than Annabeth’s math homework did to me.

I have seen some people use all the above points from COG to suggest that Athena and Annabeth fully reconciled off screen. I personally hate that, but I don't think it's an unfair reading. It is a possibility. I wouldn't say the text confirms that definitively though.

[stuckinapril]

Just a girl who wants to be her mother’s daughter in the ways that matter

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Six

Summary: Azriel had been avoiding her all day after their last encounter, she was willing to let him brood all he wanted. Y/n may have just found her way home, but it comes with a warning.

Series Masterlist

-Part Six-

Y/n was finally back to her research, she’d eaten lunch with the Valkyries, all of them starving after training much longer than the two hours they’d expected. They had ended up talking about books, recommending many of their favorites for Y/n to read, Nesta had promised to drop some off by her room later in the evening. She’d told them of the books she read back home, of Dorian’s personal library that he’d share with her whenever either of them visited, of the libraries of Orynth, filled with stories from every corner of the world. Books scholars had saved from Adarlan’s path of destruction, books her family had found on their journeys around the world, books written of their battles, of hero’s and villains, love and loss.

Once they’d gone their separate ways, Y/n had found her stacks of papers and the Walking Dead in the exact place she’d left them the night before. The scratched out notes making less sense now that she looked them over with a clear mind. She’d been trying to make sense of her rambling for hours, her mind going numb, almost ready to give up when she’d felt his presence.

He’d been avoiding her all day, just like she had avoided him this morning. If it was because she’d lain him flat on his back, or from the dark look in his eyes as he’d look down at her when she’d been pinned to his chest, she wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t going to spend the time wondering. If he had a problem with her showing him up, then he and his ego could deal with that on their own, it wasn’t her problem. And if it was the other reason, she had much more important things to worry about than the gorgeous male staring at the back of her neck. At least that’s what she told herself.

“How many times must you be told?” She doesn’t lift her gaze from her notes, “It’s impolite to stare.”

A cool touch caresses the skin of her ankle, a tendril of shadows gently wrapping around her. Usually she’d snap at the little creature, but instead she just looks over her shoulder at the source, at the male leaning against the doorway. That dark and heavy look in his eye was gone, replaced by that mask of stoic beauty. He doesn’t say anything, only stares into her eyes, and she fights the urge to fidget beneath his gaze. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of it, she refused, no matter how her skin seemed to burn everywhere his eyes touched.

“You’re so upset I beat you that you’d give me the silent treatment,” she clicks her tongue, turning her back to him, “You males have such fragile egos.”

Again, no response, and it digs under her skin in a way she’s sure her cheeky little smiles do to him. Fine, if he wanted to play this game, she could to.

“You’d think after this long someone would’ve house trained you.” She throws that exact irritating saccharine smile over her shoulder, “Teach you some manners.”

Something she’d always known about herself is that she’d inherited her mother’s temper, to her father’s eternal delight. Prone to freezing a room or lighting it on fire during temper tantrums. When he didn’t respond again, she could feel her magic stirring beneath her skin, wanting to lash out, but again, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He could sit there and play brooding, tall, dark, and handsome warrior all he liked.

That little wisp of shadow gently tugs on her ankle, just enough pressure for her to look down at it, to follow it back to the male who’d taken several silent steps towards her.

She suddenly felt to small, to exposed, sitting there before him, her back on display. She’d been here for only two days and somehow she had already let her guard down. These fae weren’t her own, they weren’t friends she’d known her whole life, they were strangers who could just a easily kill her as she could them. Deadly warriors, skilled magic users, dangerous. She stands from her chair, turning to face him, hand in easy reach of her multiple daggers strapped across her body.

“Are you going to just stare me down, like some feral beast,” she snaps, letting that anger slip its leash, a warning to stay back, “or do you have something to say?”

Those eyes are suddenly not so blank, that mask ripped away to show the male beneath. And she saw that look, that darkness, that desire. It’d been the later that had kept him away, that had him coming back now. A predator stalking his prey, those whiskey eyes dipping down and slowly dragging back up, mapping every dip and curve.

That soft touch at her ankle turns into more than a simple caress, harder. Roughly locking her in place, keeping her from flying away even if she wanted to. He steps closer, and closer, and her heart is pounding in her chest in anger, in fear, in anticipation, she’s not quite sure which.

She has to crane her neck back to keep their eyes locked as he steps right in front of her. Gods he was tall, and gorgeous, and so close she could feel the heat of him.

“Where’d you go, Princess?”

Y/n jerks awake and Azriel pulls his hand away from her shoulder quickly. She’d been laying halfway on the table when he found her, her head resting on one of her arms, a pen loosely dangling between her fingers as if sleep had claimed her without warning. If he was being completely honest, he’d for the briefest moment thought it was cute, the way her cheek was smushed up against her arm, the soft snores that left her mouth. It’d taken him longer than probably necessary to lift his scarred hand to her shoulder and gently shake her a few times, whispering her name. Her skin was warm beneath his palm, and he’d hesitated to move when her lips had twitched up at the corners.

Her eyes frantically search the space around her, a pretty flush on her cheeks. When her eyes finally land on him she jolts, hand flying to her chest as if to cage her galloping heart.

“Gods, someone needs to put a bell on you,” she groans, falling back against her chair, hiding her face between her hands, “What time is it?”

“Well past your bedtime apparently.” He smirks at the glare she sends him from behind her fingers. “I just got back to find you like this.”

She gives him a curious glance, “Where have you been all day? Did your lord and lady give you the day off of babysitting duty?”

“Something like that,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “Why were you drooling all over your notes?”

She glares even deeper, the look in her eyes ice cold like the first night they’d met, “First of all, I was not drooling.”

He pointedly looks at the page she’d been hunched over, “Sure, okay.”

“Second of all,” she growls, shoving that paper across the table like it would hide the smudged ink, “answer my question, where have you been hiding all day? Ego a little bruised?”

She didn’t know the half of it, “I was sent out to check on something. I do have a job you know, and before you say it, no, my job isn’t just babysitting you, Princess.”

“I was going to say it was brooding, but close enough.” She gives him that exasperating smile, and it takes more effort than he’s willing to admit to not stare directly at those lips.

“It’s nearly midnight,” he says instead, glancing at the sky beyond the window.

“Is it really?”

She raises from her chair, putting the thing directly between them, a casual move, to casual. He notices there’s a tension in her shoulders, similar to the way she’d been in the garden that first night, like fight had switched to flight and she was seconds away from running straight through the balcony doors and flying away.

He cocks his head, shadows whispering in his ears, her heart is to fast, something’s wrong. Azriel could tell that himself, her heart hadn’t settled since she’d startled awake, and now she almost refused to meet his eyes. Something was definitely wrong, and he couldn’t keep his thoughts from spiraling.

Did she know that he’d spent the day flying just to cool off, that his blood had roared for hours and hours, that his mind had played the image of her below him, looking up through her lashes, over and over and over. Was she disturbed, disgusted, did the tentative bond they’d formed in the early hours of the morning snap and crumble to dust.

“I should go,” Y/n says, her eyes shift to the doorway beyond his shoulder. “Like you said it’s well past my bedtime. A female needs her beauty rest.”

She doesn’t move though, doesn’t take that first step that would bring her closer to him and Azriel doesn’t like the way it stings.

So he nods, takes a step back and waves a hand towards the door, “Goodnight then, Princess.”

She nods once, “Goodnight, Shadowsinger.”

And then she’s gone, rushing from the room. Azriel keeps his shadows firmly at his side, even as they struggle and beg to follow her, to catch her and keep her there with him. He’d already done enough, already scared her off. Mother above he was pathetic, his heart clenching painfully in his chest, absolutely pathetic.

There were more of those revealing clothes laid out on the dresser when she woke the next morning. Y/n noted that they were in the Terrasen green and silver that she had asked the house for. It eased her heart to wear those colors, made her feel like home wasn’t somewhere far across the stars.

Also laid out on the table by her seating area was a tray full of breakfast, it seemed the house knew she was avoiding a certain male. It may make her a coward, but she needed to put a little bit of space between them, that dream had shaken her, and she needed the time to pull herself together.

She wasn’t a stranger to attraction, to dreaming of males and females alike, to waking up in a bed that wasn’t her own. But this was different, Azriel was different. He wasn’t just some male who’d caught her eye, he was the guard who watched over her to keep her in line, he was the one who’d found her, bleeding and vulnerable on the garden floor, he was a stupidly handsome male from a foreign world who she knew next to nothing about. She had no business feeling anything for him, even if it was just lust.

It took her longer than she’d like to admit to put on a brave face and walk out her door. Azriel had left hours ago, she’d heard him walk into the hall, wait for several minutes as if expecting her to walk out, and then leave when she didn’t.

Y/n took the now familiar path to the dining room, where she found Feyre and Amren sitting at the clear spaces away from Y/n’s sprawling notes.

“Finally,” Amren sneers, “how long does it take you to get ready, girl.”

“Amren,” Feyre warns softly, “Good morning, Y/n, how’d you sleep.”

“Morning, Feyre. I slept fine, thank you.” She’d slept like shit actually, but she wasn’t going to say that and have to explain that a certain shadowsinger wouldn’t leave her mind. “Was there something you needed?”

“It took some convincing Amren.” Feyre gestures to the small scowling female, “But we’d like you to take a look at the Book of Breathings. It’s full of those marks and I wonder if you’d have an easier time looking for what you need.”

Y/n glances at the table between them, searching for the mysterious book. When she doesn’t find it Feyre’s hand comes up, snapping once, and all of a sudden a terrible presence fills the room. It’s heavy and old and whatever it is has Y/n’s defenses rising.

It’s not a book in the traditional sense, no paper, no leather, but metal plates bound by metal rings. It thumps onto the table, and the sound seems to echo around the room, through Y/n’s head.

“I’ll warn you,” Amren says, “the thing has a nasty habit of speaking out of turn. Don’t let it get to you.”

Feyre looks visibly uncomfortable in its presence, leaning back in her chair away from it. Y/n was half tempted to turn and fly out of the room, instead she sits before the ancient book.

Hello little stranger, it whispers, and she recoils away from it, teller of many stories, none of her own.

“Hello, creepy book,” she answers, “Do you have any stories to share?”

“Don’t humor it,” Amren snaps, glaring when Feyre shushes her.

I have many stories, it answers, many stories that may intrigue you, storyteller.

“Any on how I may get home?”

Look and see, it says, the answer you seek is already there, though I wonder if you truly want to see it.

Her brow furrows in confusion, “All I want is to go home.”

Ah, home, it sighs, what is home to you, storyteller? A castle, family, books, whiskey, shadows, a lover?

She forces away the image that comes to mind, “Terrasen, thats my home.”

Land of pine and snow, the book seems to take a deep breath, godless, the gods killer queen, the kings flame blooming year round. Why did it throw you out? Why did the stag turn his back on you.

Anger flares through her, “Enough.”

The Wyrd has plans for you, hesitate to turn your back on the gifts she gives you, it says, she will not take the slight kindly.

“I didn’t ask for a gift,” she snarls, “I didn’t ask to be ripped away from my home, from my family. I didn’t ask to have everything taken from me.”

And yet you have so much to gain.

Just like that it goes quiet, presence fading till it was nothing but a book. Y/n wants to scream, to force it to come back and tell her exactly how to get home.

“It hasn’t been that active since the halves were joined,” Feyre breathes, face pale.

Amren watches Y/n with curious eyes, “It’s interested in her, the same way it was with you. I don’t think we want to find out why.”

Y/n lifts her hand to the first plate, cold metal stinger her flesh. That ancient power floods through her, though the book stays quiet. It feels like the presence is weighing her down, holding her in her seat. She grits her teeth and forces the book open, eyes flowing over the words that she could not read, over the marks she could. It was a mixture of them, spells and marks, most she knew, some she didn’t. Those were the ones she focused on, the world seeming to hold its breath.

It took her several moments to figure out what exactly she was looking at, a mark she’d seen before, so similar to the one for unlock that she’d overlooked it the first time, open. It was so simple she almost laughs. Open, to open the rifts between worlds, to open a gate. That ancient presence seems to sigh in her mind, the only confirmation she needed before slamming the book shut and shoving it away from her.

“What is it?” Feyre asks, “Are you alright?”

Y/n nods, “Get that thing out of here.”

Amren snaps her fingers and it’s gone, “What did you find, girl? Did it give you what you needed?”

She nods her head again, “I need some paint.”

Tag List-

@inloveallthetime , @microwaveallthedemons , @nayaniasworld , @thecraziestcrayon , @fightmedraco , @blackgirlmagicforever , @nikt-wazny-y , @fangirlloza010 , @thisiskaylin , @wolfgirl624 , @khaleesihavilliard , @fluffy-bnny , @mariahoedt , @durgenyx , @glitterypirateduck , @byyalady , @amberlynn98 , @ferrarisbitch

[my-fancy-hat]

I said asa needed a mother rather than a bf to supply her emotional needs. Well... she always had a mother figure since the start

Arms extended, letting her child go and live/calling for their children to come and die

[possamble]

What are your headcanons about Marcille's mom if you have any? It's interesting that what drew Donato to her was cause she lived the history he studied, or that was said somewhere at least. She must've had an interesting life.

so this was going to be just a normal answer but then I realized I have a Lot of Things To Say. so here goes, a compilation of what we know for a fact from the canon, what I've extrapolated from the visual cues and details, and my theories based on all of that.

Things we know for a fact about Marcille's mother because they were explicitly stated in the manga and supplemental materials:

She was a court mage for a Tall-man kingdom at the southern part of the Northern Continent

Donato, a court historian, fell in love with her because she had lived through the history he was studying, and he courted her for 17 years (age 15 to 32) before getting married

She was a cheerful person who rarely showed extreme emotion and took things as they came

She always cooked a huge meal for Marcille on her birthdays

She remarried a gnome after Donato's death and a short distance away from Marcille's childhood home

Pipi, Marcille's pet bird, was actually older than Marcille and originally belonged to her mother (bird died at 62)

She was extremely heartbroken when Donato died and ultimately ended up instilling a deep fear of mortality in Marcille with her words

the only time she showed extreme emotion in front of her family was when Donato could no longer eat his favourite dish near the end of his life.

She scolded Marcille for being cruel to ants (implying she can have a stern side when needed)

Things that are explicitly shown but mostly through visual cues

She has a very distinctive style of dress always involving a ribbon choker (mirroring Marcille's habit of always wearing a matching choker with any of her outfits that don't cover her neck)

She was almost stereotypically good at housekeeping and traditionally "wifely" things (very frequently depicted wearing an apron or doing some domestic chore when not at work, seems to have been an avid cook).

She knits? (also, note the affectionate smile as she's looking at Donato and Marcille reading a book together in the full panel)

She was as excited for Marcille's milestones as Donato was.

She didn't tell Marcille much about elven food

(there are a couple things that this panel in particular implies:

She lived a good deal of her life (if not being born and raised) in a mainly elven country in the West, implied by her knowing enough of an elven region's cuisine to prefer Tall-man food over it

seems to have a pretty carefree and casual demeanour overall, if this is how she replied to Marcille asking her about it (sounds like she never gave her culinary preferences that much thought to begin with)

slightly related to number 2, it seems like she and Marcille had a fairly casual parent-child dynamic (especially in comparison to the Toudens' memory of their father)

(local elf tastes Italian food once and never goes back))

However, she seems a lot more... serious in most of the other times we see her? Almost like the very stereotypical archetype of a graceful elf.

Subsequent conclusions about her personality:

Usually pretty carefree and cheerful at home, has been a loving and attentive parent throughout Marcille's childhood (while not being so doting that she didn't discipline Marcille).

Slightly more conjectural theories on her personality:

Had a much more graceful and professional personality at work, which would explain the more serious portraits we see of her.

Given that both she and Donato had positions at the royal court, it seems a little odd that she'd go out of her way to do all the housework herself, so maybe she just enjoyed doing it?

Now taping all the evidence together and toeing the line between analysis and fanfiction:

It's clear that she loved Donato very much and was utterly devastated by losing him. But there's one thing that really stuck out to me in what little we see of her:

Doesn't she seem... angry? The way she's gritting her teeth, clutching the tablecloth, and how this is the first and only time we see her eyes opened that wide. In the following panel, you see her being quiet and dejected after her initial outburst. She's still crying very intensely, but her brows are furrowed, and she's not really responding to Donato's affection in her body language.

We're not told the details of how she felt about losing Donato other than that it upset her. But this, to me, implies that she was angry and resented that he was aging, that the end of his life was approaching. An "it's not fair" type of preemptive grief. And if this was the first and last time she cried like this in front of her family, she was either very good at coping in private... or very bad at letting herself feel unpleasant emotions until they become unavoidable and end up overwhelming her.

It's not too remarkable a detail on the surface. It's even reminiscent of what the audience has seen of Marcille. But... when it comes to the big picture, you'd think an elf who voluntarily chose to marry a tall-man and have a half-elf child would have been better prepared for this.

It kind of recontextualizes her cheerfulness to me.

"I'm sure everything's gonna be okay!" (or some variation thereof, depending on what translation you have).

And this is stated to contrast her extreme grief when finally confronting Donato's failing body and eventual death. But I'm wondering if... maybe this optimism was why she was so upset. What if she went into all of it thinking "everything's gonna be okay"? What if she was a little young by elven standards, and just followed her heart thinking that her own resilience would get her through anything?

Of course, only to get completely overwhelmed when she actually loses Donato. She turns into a completely different person. And that's heartbreaking on its own-- but what the audience sees is the effect it had on Marcille. Can you imagine being her, watching your invincible and upbeat mother suddenly lose all the light in her eyes in one go?

I've already made a huge post about how I think Marcille models her "work persona" off her mother, but another thing that stuck with me as I was looking for more details in the manga was this:

copy pasting from the other post i made about it lmao it's like... the second she resigns herself to lifelong pain and terror, there's another portrait of her mother facing her like this. with their heads bowed, in mirrored body language of resignation and despair and sorrow. Except it's posed like Marcille is still looking at her mother but her mother is looking away.

It took me a second to realize, but I think that it's a visual metaphor for the fact that Marcille's mother was the only long-lived role model she had-- and she failed to model healthy grief for her daughter. I don't say this as an accusation or to disparage her as a character, but just as a matter of fact. In her, Marcille was seeing herself older and losing a short-lived spouse or loved one of her own, and all she saw was hopelessness.

But her mother didn't mean to instill hopelessness and terror in her. She wasn't really thinking of how it would truly affect Marcille at all (at least, that's how I'm interpreting her looking down and away from Marcille in the metaphor), she was just sad. And she, in her own way, was trying to protect her daughter and help her prepare for future losses.

What she meant was "loss is inevitable, and you have to learn how to be in pain but live on anyway." What Marcille heard was "loss is inevitable, and you will be scared and hurt for the rest of your life."

Again. Marcille's mother doesn't feature explicitly in the story the way her father does -- but in so many ways, her shadow, her silhouette, her reflection is always hanging over Marcille.

All that to say... headcanon-wise (everything from here on is 100% without evidence lmao), I'd like to think that she matured and realized that she failed Marcille. I imagine her being regretful about it, wanting a chance to fix it but never finding a way to insert herself back into Marcille's life when Marcille is so so so busy becoming the most accomplished mage possible. I imagine her being herself again, now, so many years after her loss and after remarrying -- but with her cheerfulness tempered with a lot more wisdom and the pain of having gone through loss like that. I think the second Marcille actually tells her what happened in the dungeon, she'd want to go running to her daughter again -- if Marcille tells her the full truth instead of just being embarrassed she let things get that far. (oh, the tragedy of her wanting to be more like her mother and an accomplished adult who doesn't need to be babied... being embarrassed to actually tell her mother how much she fucked up...)

There's also the tension of her having remarried -- I know that there's at least a little bit of resentment that Marcille harbours about that, because she's childish like that at heart even if she makes an effort not to externalize it. I think that her mother would be aware of that, potentially adding to her sense of guilt and apprehension at trying to reappear/intrude on Marcille's life. I honestly don't think Marcille has met her stepfather -- or even considers him a stepfather rather than "mama's new husband" and kind of a total stranger. I think she and her mother actively don't talk about it in their correspondence, like an elephant in the room.

but, ultimately, I think her mother is on her side no matter what. Ancient magic? Dark necromancy? Sure, she'll feel guilty and like she was partially responsible for setting Marcille down such a painful path, but she wouldn't care. that's her daughter!! she would've moved back west and been petitioning for her at the court, buying a house right next to the Canaries barracks and visiting her every day that she wasn't on a mission. And if her husband had opinions on Marcille becoming a "dark arts user," he either gets over it or it's divorce with him. Yes, she might have had her optimism completely humbled by losing Donato like that -- but she's still headstrong and self-assured and she doesn't care what people think of her. It's her way or the highway and she's always going to be in Marcille's corner.

(She also needs a name lol. I went with Juno, just to be cute about "Marcille"s closest real life equivalent being Marcella, which is the female version of Marcellus, which in turn is a diminutive of Marcus, which was derived from Mars. Absolutely in love with Marcille potentially being named after Ares/Mars the fucking god of war btw)

[gingermintpepper]

So, now that Blood of Zeus has also been given its chance to tell the Demeter/Persephone story (and also, similarly, fundamentally misunderstood the themes of the Hymn to Demeter) can we finally, finally talk about Mother Love?

Because I can scream until I'm blue in the face about how modern, popular interpretations of the myth have become so focused on being 'empowering' to women by fixating on giving power to Persephone in her marriage with Hades and, in turn, disparaging Demeter, another woman, - the mother who grieves her lost daughter - that they've some how spun all the way around and gotten back to being misogynistic and reductive, but I feel like talking nebulously about the fact that it's Demeter and Persephone's story and not Hades and Persephone's story never gets the point across hard enough. So:

Anyone who was upset about Demeter's demonisation in Blood of Zeus S2? Read Mother Love. Anyone who is ever upset that retellings of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter constantly demonise, belittle, accuse and insult Demeter and her grief while making excuses to redeem and forgive her daughter's captor? Read Mother Love. Anyone who likes Hades and Persephone as a romantic tale but yearn for complexity outside of arbitrary romantic antagonists impeding the happiness of the couple? Read Mother Love!! Everyone who has even a passing interest in this tale whether it is for the romance, the mother-daughter connections, the themes of grief and loss and eventual comfort and compromise, the wrath of the mother transgressed, the justice that is served due to a mother's insistence in an unjust society, READ MOTHER LOVE!!!

Because it pains me that such a perfect retelling of Demeter and Persephone's story exists, that it focuses on the mother-daughter relationship by comparing it with the poet's own relationship with her mother and it is nearly obscure in the greek mythology community.

[manderleyfire]

– What's keeping us apart ain't even real, your daddy, his religion, it's got nothing to do with us. – It's not just his, it's mine too. I've got the same spirit in me, why don't you see that?

Alice Englert and Walton Goggins in Them That Follow (2019), dir. Dan Madison Savage & Brittany Poulton

[quietwingsinthesky]

i think river and amy try to do some sort of mother-daughter bonding exercise or trip or something exactly one time, and it goes horribly. it's the most uncomfortable thing they've both ever done, and that's saying a lot. they never try to do it again.

[astraerystarr]

Throws this at your head

Ilene x Iwi Queen. Or as I like to call it, Ilween. I do not accept criticism

[margareturtle]

Thinking about Helen Penhallow Blackthorn as one does

Thinking about how I’m sure she wanted to be reunited with her family and would do anything to maintain that after being able to return from Wrangel Island

But also thinking about how maybe she didn’t really want to start running an institute as soon as she was free or maybe she did but she didn’t have much freedom to explore the world and what she wanted to do in between starting her travel year at 18 and then being sent to Wrangel Island later that same year

Thinking about how Helen must feel incredible guilt after finding out that her little brother she left when he was 12 and playing with wax was holding the family together and running the institute by himself

Thinking about how Helen and Mark were only two years apart and the closest to each other growing up but after what they both went through and now that they’re living on different coasts as well their relationship will never be what it was. Thinking about how now Mark is closer with Julian and Emma now.

Thinking about how when Helen finally is able to return to her family they are all splitting off in different directions— Mark to the east coast/faerie, Julian with Emma on their travel year, and Ty to the scholomance.

Thinking about how Helen was never really able to explore or her faerie heritage

Thinking about how Helen still can’t fully be Dru’s sister as she is her sister and mother

Yeah just thinking about Helen Penhallow Blackthorn

[theladyhibiscus]

Not me as somebody who crochets on the reg getting criticisms/unwanted comments about everything I make:

"You always use the same colors" :/

Me: can't help it I'm a thalassophile and therefore I must always use beige, khaki, turquoise, teal, aqua blues, whites of all shades. Let the coastal creations commence!

"Nice bag. You know, that looks perfect to use only for holidays like Easter"

Me: ...my coastal bag is to be used every time I feel like it. What are you talking about.

"Those oceanic colors don't match with your current outfit so don't use it."

Me: it's not about what looks nice TO YOU but what feels right and fun to use FOR ME.

"Why don't you add (whatever) to your creation. It'd look great if you add (whatever). And, how about next time, you actually use a leather bag bottom instead?"

Me: I don't want to.

"You sure can't take a comment or a slight criticism. Why are you like this?" :/

Me: you sure can't mind your business.

"Why are you doing 2 projects at once. Finish one and start the other I don't get it."

Me: oh you sweet summer child ohohoho...you just don't understand the mind of a crocheter do ya?

"You know, if you make something for somebody it sure won't be coastal themed or whatever. You have to try something different."

Me: who said I'm making anyone ANYTHING? They don't want to pay the correct price for a hand-made creation so that won't be happening. Anyway, ONTO THE COASTAL THEMED SCARF!

[chaika-jpeg-shitpost]

Joseph, just like Chika, had someone weak and helpless in his care. However, when the threat of death from starvation drove him into a corner, he refused to abandon the one he promised to protect. Unlike Chika

[thebirdandhersong]

Lol

[zerodaryls]

it's so funny (read: sad) that if bigoted fuckheads didn't insist i was a woman simply by virtue of my body at birth, i'd probably be chill with she/her pronouns in addition to he/they. if my mom didn't insist i was her daughter, i'd probably let her call me that, and we could still have a relationship.

i'm nonbinary and 'gendered' words are hypothetically meaningless, but because there are so many people who are more interested in telling me who i am rather than lovingly and curiously letting me express my own sense of self, those words carry trauma.

there's no reason a nonbinary person like myself can't be a son and a child and a daughter. there's no reason a nonbinary person like me can't go by he, they, and she.

'she' is not a slur. 'daughter' is not derogatory. 'beautiful' 'pretty' 'gorgeous' 'feminine' are not insults.

to the contrary, they're parts of language that express certain facets of a multi-faceted human existence, like mine.

and i have this sad, mournful feeling that if it weren't for unloving, condescending people, i'd probably be down to be called any of those things alongside my usual masculine/neutral terminology.

but i'd rather die than let anyone tell me what i have to be called.

[nexo-nex]

the evil queen is such a good manipulator that she even made some people in the audience think that she's a good mother

[deadletterpoets]

Batgirls trade solicit saying Steph spoke for Cass's mind towards Shiva about her being a terrible mother really speaks to how badly DC needs to bring David Cain back cause these antagonistic parental relationships for Cass aren't landing as well when the parent the characters are screaming at isn't the reason for all of the trauma.

Shiva continually getting blamed for all the shit David Cain did is getting ridiculous