#I love scandinavian summers

[melestasflight]

Fingon actually avoids traveling to Himring during the vast majority of the year.

He'll of course never journey during dead of winter, but nor would anyone else, so Maedhros understands it.

But Fingon also abuses his Princely station and reserves journeying to the Marches for the short season of mild warmth, when Himring resembles something like Norway in July, and things are vividly green along the hills.

Otherwise, Fingon insists on meeting somewhere in Dorthonion under the pretext of "maintaining a relationship with Arafinwean kin" (which is not a full lie at least), or "exercising discretion and not letting people think the Prince favors the Lord of Himring over anyone else" (even though everyone knows this as a fact already). Often he'll shamelessly demand that Maedhros ride all the way to Hithlum where he inevitably ends up trapped in Fingolfin's endless council meetings.

When Fingon does come to Himring, Maedhros is winter-worn and feels his limbs slowly re-learning how to move like a butterfly's wings in the shy sunlight. Fingon, on the other hand, is ecstatic, rambling endlessly about all the different species of birds and pollinators he's seen on the ride from Hithlum, complaining avidly about how Himring needs more gardens, and boasting to Maedhros about the incredible increase in harvest yields the Hadorians have achieved in Dor-lómin: "You really aren't taking advantage of the land, beloved. It is no bother to bring seeds from our fields, you just have to ask," or "This fortress needs more windows, this is frankly depressingly dark. You should consider stained glass at the least," or "My love, you are so pale, did you resort to living in your basement since we last saw one other?"

Maedhros puts up with it because he is already warmed on the inside from seeing Fingon alone, and deep down he cannot be angry at one who has crossed the Helcaraxë for despising the cold. But he cannot help but clench his teeth, especially when his beloved cousin tosses his clothes carelessly at midday and jumps into a barely-thawed lake nearby, screaming like a madman from euphoria and the endorphins that rush to his head, before threatening to splash Maedhros if he doesn't join.

Maedhros would rather go back inside and cajole Fingon's body into the hot springs that run beneath the fortress (in the basements, yes!) or trap him beneath a layer of pelts and his own self.

But then Fingon gets out of the water, gloriously naked and his skin deliciously reddened from the cold, and places a gentle hand on Maedhros' cheek before smiling that smile he knows Maedhros cannot resist. "Do you remember when we used to swim in the streams of the Pelóri, Rus? Nothing but Taniquetil above us, none else but the two of us, together."

And what can Maedhros do when those times have been summoned? When Fingon has called him by that name?

He smiles back at Fingon, brightly as summer's sunshine, and strips naked.

[slettlune]

i get sunburned super easily BUT also my face and neck get really flushed in any kind of heat and stay that way for 5+ hours after i've cooled down, so anytime i worry i might have gotten sunburned i can't be sure until the next day

[pitchsidestories]

taste II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1018

a/n: dear readers, this short, a little silly but cute oneshot was inspired by this request here, happy reading. 🫶🏻 🐈‍⬛

Autumn has finally arrived in Barcelona. Leaves painted in red, orange and yellow started to fall from the trees for one last dance. Baghera was entranced by what nature did and watched everything from her favourite spot in the living room close to the window.

Every year you both were falling in love with that season of the year, as it might be an ending to a summer you fully lived, but also the beginning of something fresh and new.

The champion’s league was about to start and games under the lights were always something special, alone the thought of it filled you with giddy excitement.

“Girls, I invited Esmee for dinner. That’s alright, right?”, you asked your girlfriends who were already in the kitchen.

“Yes, of course, kjaerste.”, Ingrid nodded friendly, standing in front of the stove. While Mapi was launching around in one of the chairs in a sitting position which screamed gay, and parents would judge because of bad posture.

“She was so sad that her parents left again. I thought she could use the distraction.”, you continued. The sad face of the young player was still fresh in your memory.

As a foreign player yourself you knew that being separated from your family for such long periods of time was hard especially when the nights got colder and the daylight shorter.

When you first came to Barcelona at Esmee’s age you were glad that Mapi and Ingrid welcomed you into their home with open arms, the appartement you began to share with them turning into a home away from home soon.

“That’s very sweet of you.”, the Norwegian commented, her forehead covered in frowning lines, looking concentrated at the recipe ahead of her.

“What’s for dinner?”, Mapi questioned smirking.

“I’ve something delicious planned.”, Ingrid announced delighted.

The Spaniard and you took a curious glance at the cookbook before exclaiming, faces formed to disgusted grimaces. “Pumpkin soup?!”

“Why do I have two children, one who has no patience and the other has the taste bud of a toddler?”, the dark-haired women groaned in response.

“Excuse me?”, you replied, pretending to be offended.

“I said what I said.”, Ingrid declared who tried her best to suppress a smile.

“Can’t you make some chicken nuggies?”, you asked your girlfriend, giving her puppy-eyes which you hoped would warm her Scandinavian heart. Often this worked out perfectly fine.

“Please, please, please.”, Mapi supported your suggestion loudly.

“Girls, seriously?”, Ingrid sighed, the defender and you knew from her sigh alone that you both had won in the question of what’s going to be for dinner.

A knocking on the door interrupted the discussion. You opened the door for Esmee and led her into the kitchen.

“Hi everyone. Ingrid, what are you cooking? Can I help you?”, the young player asked politely, peeking over the shoulder of the tall Norwegian.

“I’m making pum-…“, she started, one last attempt to get someone on her side.

“We’re having chickie nuggies!”, Mapi and you announced simultaneously.

Finally, Ingrid gave in: “Yes, we’re having chicken nuggets…“

“Thanks, love.“, you thanked her, beaming.

A small smile appeared on her face as she nudged your side: “You’re lucky I love you two so much.“

“We love you too, amor.“, Mapi replied, kissing Ingrids right cheek while you got on your tiptoes to kiss her left.

Esmee cleared her throat, making sure you hadn’t forgotten that you had a visitor.

Blushing, Ingrid pushed the two of you away and got to work.

You grinned at Esmee: “Hope you like nuggets, Esmee.“

She nodded happily, looking a bit relieved that it wasn’t pumpkin soup: “I do.“

“Then sit down while Ingrid shows us her cooking skills.“, you joked.

Ingrid rolled her eyes next to you. Of the three of you, she was definitely the best cook so making chicken nuggets was beneath her actual cooking skills.

Still, she managed to present you with a batch of perfectly crispy nuggets, a homemade dipping sauce and a bowl of fresh salad. You were all athletes after all.

“This is…“; Esmee said between two mouthfuls of salad.

“Delicious as always.“, Mapi completed the sentence for her, gleefully biting into a nugget.

Ingrid smiled across the table, seemingly happy that you all enjoyed her food: “Thank you, girls.“

“You’re the best cook.“, you agreed with the others.

“I’ll try the pumpkin soup another time though.“, the Norwegian warned you jokingly.

“I promise we’ll try it then.“, you assured her. It was only fair that she would get her pumpkin soup.

“Appreciate it.“

The food was quickly gone, leaving the table cluttered with empty dishes.

Mapi leaned back in her chair with a yawn: “Now time for a nap.“

“Thanks for the dinner, girls.“, Esmee said after she made sure that Ingrid didn’t want any help washing dishes.

“No worries, you’re always welcome here.“, you assured the young player and pulled her into a quick hug before she left.

You smiled to yourself as you closed the door behind her, you loved providing a safe space for the young players, making sure they had everything they needed even if it was just dinner.

“Y/n, Ingrid, hurry up!”, you heard Mapi call from the living room.

Ingrid left the kitchen, rolling her eyes: “That kid has no patience.“

“You still love it.“, you laughed as the two of you entered the living room where Mapi laid sprawled out on the sofa.

“Come into my arms, my loves.“, she laughed, making space for both of you on each side.

You didn’t even think twice as you launched yourself onto the sofa: “Coming!”

“All here.“, Ingrid smiled as she took the other side of the sofa.

Mapi sighed with content, wrapping one arm around each of you: “That’s how I like it.“

“Sandwiched on the sofa? We know.“, you teased her.

Ingrid chuckled lightly, reaching over Mapi and intertwined her fingers with yours: “Me too. With my two favourite children.“

With her eyes already closed, Mapi mumbled something unintelligible, already snoozing.

You cuddled closer into her side.

There was nothing better to do on your free day.

[wonderful-emoji]

recipes for the cakes (the ones that exist IRL)

you are asking me for cake recipes?

From an emoji blog?

Well consider yourself lucky I'm a good cook too so I know where to look, but let it be known I'm not doing this again

(and the disclaimer I haven't made these recipes myself so I can't verify their quality)

[richarlotte]

High Class Dating.

I’m spending the summer interning in New York before I move to California and I’ve not had any trouble at all when it comes to getting dates, meeting men, or being taken out. I do sugar date and date hypergamously because if you’ve not leveled up your dating game in 2024, you’re missing out. I think it’s imperative to only except dates with men that make you feel good, have good careers and have something to offer, and make an effort to treat you like a lady. 2024 is the decade of the black woman and I know what I want so it’s time for me to get it. I’ve been dating since I was 18, I’m not a love guru by any means but I hold my own, and I love going out and having a good time with high quality men who will treat me well and show me their lifestyle.

My Stats.

As a background, here are my stats: I’m about 5’11 and weigh 140 pounds, I’m dark skin, and I have alopecia (I do wear a wig). Am I drop dead gorgeous? I’m not Jasmine Tookes but I’m confident and love the way I look, I’ve taken time to level up, I have a good workout routine and a toned body, and I’ve made strides with my personal style and makeup skills over the past few years. I’m happy to make posts related to the process that I went through when I started leveling up, the changes I made to my style and to my makeup routine, and the workout routine and some of the food I eat to keep myself healthy and motivated. I don’t believe in dating out of desperation and I think that it’s always important to make an effort if you are a woman; if you make an effort and know your audience then you’ll find that it’s easier to meet people and go to better places.

A few of my dates.

I went to lunch at the Penn Club with a man who I met on Hinge. He’s a successful young plastic surgeon and we spoke for two days before he asked me out on his first day off. He was tall, had big brown eyes and a strong jaw, handsome, an excellent conversationalist, and very intelligent. He made such an effort to take me somewhere beautiful, treat me well, and make sure that I was having fun and he had so much potential. I really liked our date and think it’s one of the best I’ve been on since I landed in New York for my internship.

I went to Martha’s Vineyard for Fourth of July weekend with another date. His family owns a huge house on the island and I’d mentioned to him that I wanted to go somewhere that felt luxurious so he invited me and a few of my friends to visit. It was a beautiful long weekend and I got to do so much; we swam, cooked, watched the fireworks, danced, listened to so much good music, and got to know each other better. I love a man who comes for money and has his own money but is still humble and he is the definition of a good guy.

I feel like every girl has her own story about going out with an NHL player but OMG let me tell you mine. I went out with a Swedish NHL player and these wealthy Scandinavian men and athletes love black women. People will try to say that they only like thin blondes but this man treated me like a princess, he still sends me gifts, he got me tickets for the Stanley Cup finals, and he’s an angel with the most beautiful accent I’ve ever heard. I slid into his DMs on IG and then he was messaging me an hour later, liking all my pics, and asking me if I’ve ever been to Sweden. I’m going to try to go visit Stockholm in December to try to see him during Christmas when I know he’ll be back at home.

How I meet men.

I use Bumble, Hinge, and the good old-fashioned way of leading people in person. I can do a post on the best way I’ve met people in person and some of the venues I like. I think everyone who reads this will agree that there’s just something about a man who treats you well, is strong, and has a thick wallet and good looks. Every girl deserves a guy like that and I think it’s important that black women do not take any bullshit and don’t compromise on what they want. There are men out there who would drop everything in their hands to do something for me, the princess treatment isn’t a myth at all, and I have met so many men who are able and willing to invest in me and my lifestyle. Again, if you know what you want, then you’re going to get it but you have to be willing to put the work in.

Richarlotte x

[kaibutsushidousha]

what did you think about skadi's handling in arctic summer world? as an ibuki fan i'm puzzled as to why she agreed to skadi's request to stop, but any general insight into what aspects of her were explored here is appreciated.

Thanks to Odin's questionable kindness, Scáthach-Skadi is the last survivor of Ragnarök. That's a situation she's very displeased with and her every major appearance has been her trying to process her grief in some way.

The most relevant attempt is obviously her Lostbelt. She was initially grateful for the lengths Odin went to keep her alive and believed she also needed to go great lengths to preserve the world he left her with. Skadi ruled for 3000 as the most anti-violence Lostbelt King we've ever seen. She constantly had her eyes on her world, and micromanaged all the humans and Jotunns so that there would be no fighting in her world.

She was unquestionably devoted to her Lostbelt, but by no means she made a good job. Her messed up decisions came at great personal cost for the giants who couldn't think for themselves, the humans who only got to live until age 25 at most, and to Skadi herself who had to overexert herself to keep everything in check while also maintain Surtr's seal. Skadi was a joyless woman stuck in the joyless world of her own design. Absolutely no one benefitted from her dystopia.

But playable Skadi is obviously not like that. The world that was hers to care is already gone, and she finds herself free from her queenly chains of responsibility for what might as well be the first time ever. In Chaldea, she's characterized as very lost and clueless. Someone Medb and the other Scáthach need to introduce to so many things she could never see in her small, enclosured world. She has something of a background arc through many cameos with her experiencing many new things, from food (ice cream, takoyaki, alien monster sashimi) to roles for herself (fairy godmother for Lizderella and Martha, and of course, park administrator).

There's also her Interlude, but I'll get back to it later. The reason why I covered this whole recap of Skadi's character is because Skadi's part in Arctic Summer World also feels like a recap of her character. A return to her origins without the previous stakes. In this less messed up environment, Skadi remains as awful an administrator as she was always and remains self-destructively overworking herself for something the people she's serving didn't ask for.

The difference here is that Götterdämmerung is a story about Ophelia's inability to distinguish love from emotional abuse, so Skadi had to carry the important role of sincerely loving mother that made everything worse for everyone, while Summer Skadi is in a role where she can review her mistake and not create Super Fun & Colorful Götterdämmerung 2.

But the part about vaguely self-biographical manga being the medium that lets her examine her past and assess what she needs to do feels like a mark of progress for herself and more like a mark of progress for Jalter as a mentor sharing with others what brought her solace.

As for Ibuki, I think she just stopped because she knew she wouldn't get what she wanted from Skadi's current state. Ibuki wanted things to get joyous and lively, so she ordered Douman to give the Grail to someone full of love. Douman's choice was Skadi because his initial mission was interacting with the Lostbelt Kings, so he was very aware of her love. I don't think Douman was too surprised by the mistakes Skadi repeated here. If Skadi and Fujimaru say they're unwilling, then who is Ibuki throwing this party for?

I get that the end is sudden, but I feel like it works really well for Skadi's long-term characterization. The Scandinavian Lostbelt was a shit place to because Skadi had no respect for anyone's autonomy. After going to Chaldea, disrespecting other people's autonomies remained a recurring problem with Skadi, with Summer Caenis, Lizderella, and Santa Martha all being unconsented transformations.

But then came her Interlude, with the conclusion being that even though she eventually found new happiness in Chaldea because of Odin making her survive and endure 3000 years of trauma, this is not something she wanted, so Odin violated her autonomy and she doesn't need to feel grateful for it. Skadi's consent issues disappear entirely after this Interlude, but since Arctic Summer World was so shortly after it, I like to believe that Skadi saying no and Ibuki immediately respecting also played a part in fixing her flaw.

[caustinen]

omg i love how ur hollywood au is coming along, i need moreeeee

hii i’m so happy you like it!! here are some domestic headcannons requested by another user, it got hits of spiciness at times so hope that’s okay <3

hollywood au domestic headcanons 🦋

Bucky brings out a softer side from Gale who has been hardened by life and put up some walls when it came to intimacy/trusting others and their love, and he’s so thankful to have found someone who makes him see the world as a gentler place. Bucky is passionate with everything he does, but with Gale, he found new ways to put all that energy to in a positive, inspiring things that helps him along in other aspects of his life as well.

John loves buying Gale flowers and his / later their apartment is always filled with beautiful boquets that make it alive (I’d think Buck would have stylistic but quite simple/Scandinavian style home). Gale keeps telling him he doesn’t have to buy him anything but as long as he gets that soft smile to his face as John presents him with yet another bunch they will be coming in.

Another big thing for John is physical touch, he always has an arm around his boyfriends shoulders or waist. Gale on the other hand is a great listener and gives wonderful advice, countering John’s temperament. And while he’s more careful about physicality in public, he’s surprisingly clingy when they’re home by the two of them which John absolutely adores, he might never ask for closeness with his words but he’ll find ways to seek physcal touch in other ways. Both of them value quality time over everything.

They have to strategize their dates well which sometimes threatens to suck the romance out of it, but when they manage to work around it that makes it even more romantic. Night walks by Seine when they’re travelling in Europe, small local venue concerts where no one cares about them… The rarity of those moments give them extra spice.

That being said, they do love a quiet night in just as much. There’s comfort in having the world have them as completely separate individuals during the days, the nights are theirs to share.

They both love to read and often read great parts aloud for each other. John could listen to Gale read for hours, finding it easy to stay put unlike usually, even if Gale is barely aware he’s even there when he gets really into it.

Gale doesn’t particularly like going to parties and he sometimes worries John will get tired of him because he’s not as outgoing but John is actually really content, he can party with anyone but he can only have these moments of peace with Gale ❤️ It also helps to throw all eyes off them because like noted in the og post Bucky being photographed with others keeps media off track.

Gale’s office is a good place to meet — John being seen there is ”likely place for him to be” since he has business there, and Gale’s office has seen both date lunches as well as John being bent over his table (…he on the other hand prefers to have Gale against the big windows since they’re so high up no one can see.) The fact that they weren’t caught by anyone else but Curt (Gale’s client and Bucky’s best friend who already knew) is a miracle.

John actually told multiple stories about their adventures together/about Gale in general in interviews before they went public but they made a joke out of it because John always tells about him with ”my friend Buck and I…”. After the relationship goes public fans love going back and trying to find all the clues from over the years.

They travel a lot too between Bucky’s filming schedules, they’re both really into history and love to see different sights all over the world (at times it’s the easiest to hide in plain sight in busy tourist destinations). Sometimes John drags them to beach resorts too tho if Gale seems extra stressed out — he always protest and wants to rather do city vacations but he always ends up loving it anyway.

(Their honeymoon is in a summer house of their friend on a private island and they sure make the most of it despite being public at the time — the privacy feels even more inviting because of it)

They are sometimes forced to stay apart long periods of time if John is filming somewhere and Gale can’t leave LA because of work but they always call and text goodnight, and because of their busy professional lives the time they do spend together is always precious and they never guilt the other about having to be away, they have a similar understanding of the importance of their careers.

They also go to the gym together which isn’t always the greatest because they are 1) competitive af and 2) chronically horny for each other, and the display of physical strength/beauty can be dangerous. Espescially if they’ve been busy layely; espescially if John happens to be bulking up for an action film and Gale is torn between wanting out-bulk him or let him carry him away from there.

Gale couldn’t care less about watching sports (he does go to some games every once in a while for Bucky but he’s always bored out of his mind) but he loves playing them, and they sometimes manage to arrange some friendly soccer or baseball or tennis etc with other friends too.

I kind of referenced this in one of the instagram things but it would be fun to imagine Gale getting pretty creative when seeing Bucky in different costumes/roles, like maybe he wouldn’t mind John bringing the uniform home one day. Bucky sees himself in the costumes for months but Gale might only come to set once or twice and be Thinking Thoughts later when they get home about it too.

I also hc that this Bucky would be very into fashion and style and loves shopping while Gale couldn’t care less, he’s wearing suits to work and something simple on his free time but John keeps dragging him along and making him suffer for hours in malls and boutiques as he tries go get him to try something on. After their relationship goes public Gale wants to present himself well and thus starts to wear more bold looks (he doesn’t have to worry about getting attention anymore either, so it’s actually kind of fun). John thinks it’s so over because the little he was able to concentrate on these things before is GONE (thinking about that Bikeriders premier cropped jacket and wide pants, Bucky would be nosebleeding and staring while some poor media people try to interview him)

Imagining them cooking each other midnight dinners when the other has to work late and slow dancing, bare feet in pyjamas in the kitchen in each others embrace were the first two images that came to mind so we’ll end with them 🖤

hope you keep liking this stuff!!

linking the other additions in case you missed something: john’s insta / gale’s insta / media+friends instas / first meetings / first i love yous 💘

[whencyclopedia]

Interview: Dithmarschen Republic

Located in what is the present-day German province of Schleswig-Holstein, the Dithmarschen Republic (1227-1559) was a republic by commoners who developed quasi-democratic institutions, including their own written constitution. Fiercely independent and freedom-loving, these peasants successfully defended their political independence against the forces of Holstein and the Scandinavian Kalmar Union as the Middle Ages came to a close.

House in Burg, Dithmarschen

Z thomas (CC BY-SA)

James Blake Wiener speaks to Dr. William L. Urban, a medievalist and the author of Dithmarschen: A Medieval Peasant Republic, to learn more about the Dithmarschers in this interview.

JBW: Dr. William L. Urban, many thanks for speaking with me. As your main research interest is that of the Teutonic Knights and the Northern Crusades, I am curious to know how you first became interested in the history of the Dithmarschers. What was it that led you to Dithmarschen?

WLU: In a very real sense, this book began at the University of Hamburg in 1964-1965 when I met a retired school teacher named Maria Krüger. Of Dithmarscher extraction, she often entertained my wife and me for tea, with cookies and tales of her native land. At her suggestion, I later read some of the local color novelists in the library of the University of Kansas. Thereafter, I went to the works of serious historians where I discovered that the novelists’ descriptions of Dithmarschen and its people were not exaggerations.

I was lucky enough to be able to travel to the countries north of the Elbe. After cycling across Germany three times, I lived in Hamburg and the neighboring town of Ahrensburg for almost a year. This gave me the confidence I needed to write a very rough draft of this manuscript before turning to the revision and completion of my dissertation, which appeared in 1975 as The Baltic Crusade. In the same year, I received a Fulbright-Hayes research grant for supplementary studies at the Johann Gottfried Herder Institute and the Philipps University in Marburg/Lahn. The opportunity arose for me to visit Dithmarschen twice that summer and again in 1976. In 1976-77, the University of Chicago awarded me a part-time faculty research grant in its main library, the Regenstein Library, to further develop my manuscript in discussion with Prof. Karl Morrison.

In the fall of 1982, Monmouth College provided me with a student assistant, Janet Fox, who typed the manuscript into the computer for editing. In the summer and fall of 1983, I was back in Marburg/Lahn with the help of a scholarship from the German Academic Exchange Service and a sabbatical from Monmouth College. At that time, Professor Walther Lammers was kind enough to read the manuscript and discuss it with me at his home. I really appreciated his support and friendship. In January 1988, with the help of my wife and a new student typist, Kris Wang, I began a two-year editing process. Hardly a sentence remained unchanged. Eventually, after being tutored to use PageMaker by Daryl Carr and Marta Tucker, I prepared the manuscript for publication during my spring semester sabbatical. In June 1990, my wife and I took a car tour of Dithmarschen to visit places I had previously missed. In the fall of 1990, Monmouth College provided another small grant to cover the cost of preparing the manuscript for publication, and Erik Midelfort (with whom I had discussed the Dithmarscher project on several occasions in the past) responded to my request for a final reading with several helpful comments on the text.

JBW: It is true that there was a notable absence of feudalism and serfdom in nearby Frisia during the Middle Ages. Were the political traditions in Dithmarschen similar to what many historians would term as 'Frisian freedoms'? If so, how 'free' were the Dithmarschers?

WLU: There were many similarities, but the Dithmarschers had a more strongly developed clan system. This communal spirit made it possible to build dikes and canals, to develop a legal system capable of dealing with crime, land disputes, and inheritances; it also made it easier to raise a fighting force of men who could stand up to feudal cavalry and neighboring militias.

16-century Map of Dithmarshen

Abraham Ortelius (Public Domain)

This evolved over time so that local communities (Kirchspiele) became more important, and then the more prosperous farmers became a quasi-aristocracy that dominated the 48 representatives of the final government.

JBW: Many of the characteristics of Dithmarschen – the presence of clannish families, a militia, and a fiercely independent populace – strike me as similar to other medieval peasant republics, like that of the Old Swiss Confederation or the Icelandic Commonwealth. Are such comparisons worthwhile or even valid?

WLU: In my book, I tried to analyze why most peasant republics failed. The Swiss survived because they had geography and poverty on their side. That is, the mountain cantons were difficult to attack and hardly worth the effort, while the other members of the Swiss Confederation managed to negotiate the complex political and military challenges by raising a well-drilled military force large enough to defeat the regional powers, then providing mercenaries to more powerful neighbors who became allies.

What Dithmarschen lacked was numbers, and both the Dithmarschers and the Hanseatic League failed to see the advantages of allying against their common enemies as the Swiss had done.

JBW: Relations between Dithmarschen and the medieval Hanseatic towns, like Lübeck, were close. Was this so that they could protect their common interests in commerce while maintaining a degree of political independence?

WLU: Yes, but their common interests were limited. There were Dithmarscher fishermen, just as there were in Lübeck, Hamburg, and Bremen, but no international network of trading partners for selling their catch. There were also too many tensions, especially Dithmarschen traditions that bordered on freebooting (and sometimes crossed over it)! Dithmarschers defended their citizens even when they were in the wrong, which was not always the case with the Hansa.

JBW: John I of Denmark (r. 1481-1513) and his brother, Duke Frederick of Holstein, attempted to subdue the peasantry of Dithmarschen in the 1490s. At the Battle of Hemmingstedt in 1500, Danes and Holsteiners were soundly defeated by the Dithmarscher peasants. What ensured their victory of what was seemingly a more powerful and better organized military force?

WLU: First, the invaders did not have the money to pay their mercenaries and allies for a long war, so they needed a quick victory.

Second, dumb luck. The king sent his army north from Meldorf toward Heide along a narrow road on a dike, expecting that the good weather would last. Instead, a winter storm blew into the invaders’ faces, making it difficult to see until they finally blundered into fortifications the Dithmarschers had hurriedly thrown up across the road. When they trained their artillery on the redoubt, the wind, snow, and rain doused the wicks and ruined the power.

Battle of Hemmingstedt

Max Friedrich Koch (Public Domain)

Lastly, Dithmarscher fighting skills were more appropriate to this battlefield – they opened the dikes, waded barefoot and half-naked through the freezing water to get at the foe, and then pursued the panicked enemy relentlessly.

JBW: What became of the Dithmarschers following the Protestant Reformation? Moreover, how did they ultimately lose their cherished freedoms?

WLU: The Dithmarschers were very pious, but because they had always been suspicious of clergymen, they had limited their authority. Since they had long managed their local religious affairs themselves and used the churches for schools and political assemblies, they found the change to Protestantism easy, which is quite something.

JBW: Are there any unique characteristics of the medieval Dithmarschen Republic that merit further consideration and study? If so, what are they?

WLU: First, we should not think of every European society as an inferior reflection of England and France, but of each possessing characteristics that are still important today. Second, these characteristics can be good or bad, or both at the same time. People are complicated. Third, not everyone can be moved by what they see in others.

Dithmarschers admire Britons; Americans are liable to see in the Dithmarschers what they once were, and everyone can remember that freedom is not free but must be earned and defended by patriot blood.

JBW: Finally, if there is one thing that we ought to remember about the Dithmarschen Republic, what is it in your opinion?

WLU: Someone inscribed a motto on the organ in Hemme, Germany: "Dithmarsia libera fuit." The implication was that it could be again, and today it has become so again.

JBW: Dr. William Urban, many thanks for lending your time and expertise!

Professor William L. Urban was educated at Baylor University, the University of Texas at Austin, and the Universität Hamburg. He received a Ph.D. 1967 at the University of Texas, taught at the University of Kansas and Monmouth College, Monmouth, Illinois, at Knox College, Fort Hays Kansas State College, the Estonian Institute for the Humanities, and the Eastern Michigan University Cultural History Tour in Europe. He was Director of the Arts of Florence, then the Yugoslav and Czech programs of Associated Colleges of the Midwest. He received a senior Fulbright grant for research at the Herder Institut in Marburg/Lahn, Germany; several DAAD grants, NEH grants for summer study, and a United States Military Academy Military History Workshop. He is a corresponding member of the Historische Kommission für ost- und westpreußische Landesforschung and the Baltische Historische Kommission. He has published The Baltic Crusade, The Prussian Crusade, The Livonian Crusade, The Samogitian Crusade, Tannenberg and After, Lithuania, Poland, and the Teutonic Order in Search of Immortality, The Teutonic Knights: a military history, Medieval Mercenaries, Bayonets for Hire: the Business of War, 1550-1763, Matchlocks to Flintlock, Mercenaries in Europe and Beyond, 1500-1700, Bayonets and Scimitars, Arms, Armies and Mercenaries, 1700-1789, and Small Wars, and their influence on the Nation State. With Jerry Smith, he translated The Livonian Rhymed Chronicle, The Chronicle of Balthasar Russow, and Johannes Renner's Chronicle.

Continue reading...

[madisonmccoy]

Teo Tomczuk tells us about the next season of Rykter!

https://730.no/forteller-om-neste-sesong-teo-tomczuk/%5C~%5D

SOMMERFJAS with Teo Tomczuk

By Tayiba Haji

3 July 2024 at 15:47

Teo Tomczuk sits down with SOMMERFJAS 😎 🎵 ☀️

-

(y’all this one needed a lot of cultural context to understand properly so you can see my personal explanations/rambling below in red lol)

“Fellesferien” has officially started (this is also known as general staff vacation in English, a practice where all employees at a workplace have time off at the same time, and in Nordic countries this typically takes place during warmer months like August). And while some people turn their sights towards the South (warmer/more southern countries in Europe), others are settling in well at their Norwegian cabins.

The next man out for our Summer column is Teo Tomczuk (born in 2006).

You may know him as Mathias from the NRK series “Rykter”, but in his spare time Teo is also very involved in music.

[730.no](http://730.no) had a chat with the Bergen native about his summer favorites. As well as what we can expect from the highly anticipated third season of “Rykter”.

Hi Teo! Do you have any exciting plans for the summer?

“I am going to play some concerts in Poland, and travel around Poland a bit. And I am going on vacation to Croatia with my best friend! It's a bit funny because all the “russegruppene” in all of Norway are going there exactly when we are going there." 

(Russegruppene, or Russ groups, describe groups of students in their final semester of high school that celebrate the tradition of Russefeiring, or russ for short. This happens over a period of several weeks leading up to summer, and it is basically a continuous party commonly linked to drunkenness & public disturbances. It's also a tradition for the students to wear special overalls for the event, usually red or blue. Many groups choose to rent or buy party buses to drive around during this time. This tradition is unique to Norway and is an interesting read for those unfamiliar with it!)

Lovely! What kind of style do you go for in the summer then?

“I wear a lot of black clothes even though it's summer.”

What does the perfect summer day look like for you?

“A cabin trip combined with a fishing trip! And making music in the evening.

What movie/series did you last watch? And what roll of the dice do you give it?

“I saw The Fall Guy in the movie theater, it was very well made. The entire production. Dice roll 6!” (The roll of the dice is a Norwegian rating system for media, with 1 being the worst and 6 being the best)

Speaking of cool productions: Has the third season of “Rykter” been recorded?

“The third and fourth seasons have actually been recorded!”

Wow, so cool! What can we expect from the new season?

“You can expect a lot of love, broken hearts. Many try lots of new things and find out who they are. Mostly they get to know themselves. There will be a lot of identity stuff!”

Do you have any tips on what someone could do on a rainy day?

“I live in Bergen, so I'm used to that. The fish bite more when it rains. And make music of course.”

Do you have a favorite restaurant that you just have to visit in the summer?

“Mammas Kjøkken!” (Mom’s Kitchen)

How are you at parties?

“I'm the one who tries to put on 70s rock, haha! I’m really not the biggest party type then.”

What can we expect from you on the music front?

“I try to find my own sound. I developed a new style of pop rock that I think people can vibe with. There will be more international music, a bit of everything.”

What is this summer's vorspiel (pre-game) anthem?

"Immigrant Song - Led Zeppelin”

What is this summer's nachspiel (afterparty) anthem?

"The End - The Doors”

(Vorspiel and nachspiel are German words that are used in Scandinavian countries to mean pre and after party)

What song is best to dance to?

“Lonely Boy by The Black Keys.”

What is your darkest party memory?

“I broke a tooth once haha!”

Huh?

“Yeah, it was crazy. I was going to open a bottle. Fortunately, it went fine in the end.”

Luckily! Do you have any good tips for the day after a party?

“In Poland we have a soup that grandmas and moms have often made over the years. It's damn good the next day. And just drink lots of water before and after.”

What do you spend the most money on in the summer?

“Probably beer!”

Who would you most like to meet this summer, and why?

“The best thing would be to meet my role models.”

And who are they?

“Many of them have died, but of the ones who are alive: Alex Turner and Ozzy Osbourne.”

(ALEX TURNER MENTION !!!)

Have you ever had a summer fling? Or is there anyone who counts as one this year?

“Not this year, but I've had ones in the past. It's best during the summer, that’s really when it’s the nicest.”

Can you send us some random photos from your camera roll this summer?

Thank you so much and have a happy summer, Teo!

“Likewise!”

[shadowqueenjude]

about the dawn court people being east Asia inspired - feyre says something when she sees Nuan at the high lord meeting about how Amren must have chosen a fae form similar to Nuan's bloodline. If Amren is east-asian coded, so is Nuan and thesan too, having at least one parent hailing from xian (am i reading too far into xian sounding so stereotypical, maybe, do i care rn, no). they also say that a majority of the dawn court hails from xian. thesan is supposed to have brown skin (again, please give a better descriptor) so he's mixed.

no one's clothes or architecture reflects anything concrete regarding their inspiration and its such a hodge podge it's so painful to try to discern where the differentiation between courts are. Spring court - because of the name tamlin correlates to a myth about a guy named tam lin who is kind of being held captive by the queen of faeries who needs to be rescued by his mortal lover that he met like suuuper recently, I'm placing the spring court in a place that reflects a medieval scotland. clothes are fairly accurate not in detail but in the sense of material and idk just general existence (women wear dress, man wear breeches, idk) I love that! so simple! Everything makes sense! So then why in dawn are we having technological advances in a steampunk sort of way and similar "old fashioned" clothes to spring, but then in the night court (velaris, the other's i think are fairly period accurate), there are all these advancements in fashion like leggings and pullover sweaters and whatever else she's wearing in the last two books, yet they have the same tech as everyone else barring dawn. (Doing a small pass on the bodysuit armor things because I'm just assuming that's people's artistic interpretations of her visions)

ALSO, how are they self sufficient if they're a closed off city? They aren't harboring secret technology that helps their city run, they are one city and also A CITY so like, no resources, no agriculture. who tf are they getting their things from if they are an invisible city that no one knows about? same thing with how they're getting trades that they wouldn't have been able to make themselves. Also, at this point I would like to propose the idea of wing armor. you have siphons which can idk make shields. HAVE YOU TRIED SHIELDING YOU'RE VERY SENSITIVE AND MASSIVELY TARGETED WINGS FROM DANGER?? in conclusion I'm tired and also a fashion/history nerd, okay bye

Ahhhh yes I see what you mean about Dawn now! Yeah, I always imagine Spring to be like medieval Scotland, and I'm guessing Autumn is medieval England? Rhysand is a Welsh name I believe, so Night is supposed to be Wales??? But the Illyrians are also supposedly POC and there's some evidence of Indian influence there too (barf, night is NOT indian at all), so I'm stuck on that one. Dawn is East Asian while Day is...Middle Eastern? Winter maybe Norway or some Scandinavian country? And Summer I'm assuming is supposed to be from some place in Africa, but it's all very vague. Also more points about Velaris: how is their fashion sense so...modern? Since everything is so closed off...shouldn't their fashion be stuck in the 1600s or whenever they closed their borders? Why don't they open their borders to Dawn since they're sooooo close to the Solar courts supposedly??? Has it not occurred to them that Nuan, who made Lucien's metal eye, could also construct new wings for the Illyrian ladies who got theirs cut off? Or do they just not care? They don't but SJM is trying to convince us they do.

Yeah how in the flying fuck is Night surviving on no industry whatsoever? No trade? No agriculture, nada? Because we have no evidence of the Illyrians producing anything either, besides "warriors." My explanation for this is kind of inspired by @kateprincessofbluewhales 's headcanon, but what if the Illyrians are like mercenaries? They're hired to fight for other courts and in exchange they receive all of their necessities and more which the Illyrians then send back home to their wives and children. This still doesn't explain how Velaris operates, but I'm sure Rhysand crutches on the Illyrians' profits to keep shit going and that's part of why they resent him. I'VE BEEN SAYING IT FOR AGES. WINGS ARE SUCH A VULNERABILITY. THEY MAKE YOU SUCH AN EASY TARGET. WHY IS THERE NO WING ARMOR??? THAT WOULD BE SO COOL TOO. BUT NO, WE'RE SUPPOSED TO JUST ACCEPT THERE'S NOTHING COOL ABOUT THE WINGS AT ALL AND MOVE ON.

[kingkat12]

girl I love your chapters, and your English is perfect but what is your mother tongue I am really curious. If you want tell us stuff about yourself

hey you!! I didn’t think there was any interest in this information, so I haven’t really delved into that here!🥹💕

to make it short, I’m not too comfortable sharing information about myself as this is quite a… raunchy account, and I would rather walk down the street naked than have this account be traced back to me💀 but I could try to be a little cryptic?

I speak about four languages; one Scandinavian, one Slavic, English, and one Germanic!

English is my third language! I loved learning it, love speaking English, and I had to be moved to a university-level English class when I was in 9th grade because my teacher said she had nothing to teach me anymore💀 and it’s the best language for me to write in, because the other languages I know are either too complicated for me to write comfortably (Cyrillic is fucking horrible) or too weird-sounding to my ears??? oh well🙈

and yes, me knowing a Scandinavian language means that I understand Bill fluently and I can watch anything Swedish without needing subtitles, and let me tell you… this man is ULTRA HOT when he speaks Swedish. the translations don’t do him any justice because god DAAAMNNNNN

anyway, I’m currently in my second year of a bachelor degree which is super fucking damn hard, so I try to squeeze in as much writing as possible in between exam periods because it’s the only thing that gives my brain some relief… and I feel like I’m on the brink of exploding if I don’t write for a day or two lol

aaaanddd I started writing when I was 11! so I’ve been doing this for quite some time (with long hiatuses in between ofc) and I was so happy to finally be sharing my work with you for the first time since this summer!!

I hope that I will feel more secure in the future to maybe be a little more specific, but this is what I’m comfortable with sharing for now🙈💕 thank you for the interest, it was sweet to hear!!🌸✨💜

[sunthyme]

Let's go!! Part five, baby! I'm literally having so much fun with these omg. Y'all are so sweet every time, istg I'll cry. If y'all draw my ocs, I WILL cry ong. Also, be warned, this post will have a LOT of characters lol. Welcome to...

🪻Pomefiore🪻

This dorm is so unfairly pretty, wth... Also, despite having 4 freshmen, there is only one second year 😭😭😭. Enjoy!~

First up, our queen in all her glory,

💅Vil Schoenheit💅

(she/he/they) Genderfluid (leaning towards fem mostly) - Panromantic Demisexual

Not me simping for my own design with this one oml.

- I've seen quite a few people headcanon Vil as Desi and I agree. I also view her as technically genderfluid but she normally presents very fem and is on occasion like, "Hm, masculine pronouns today."

- I was going to keep the blonde and make her have some root colour showing but it wasn't looking right. To be honest, she's slaying with the darker hair though.

- Made his eyes a deeper, purple-y blue and their earrings were a gift from Rook as they match her eyes almost perfectly.

- Totally a mother hen, keep in mind I literally have hardly seen her yet but I /think/ that's canon lol?

- Fashion nerd and could list the eras of different fashion trends and famous designers off the top of their head.

- Not a fan of physical activity, just does it to be in fit shape. She actually really likes to read nonfiction and love art history as well.

- Met Rook as first years and they bonded immediately. Probably the first person that Vil really clicked with.

Speaking of...

🏹Rook Hunt🏹

(he/they/she/etc. Doesn't really care lol) Unlabelled Gender - Pansexual

Quick comment: Why does he look so fcuking weird w/out his hat in-game??? I have his ceremonial robes card and if he didn't already scare me, he definitely does now. I think my version looks a little less weird. Anyways, side tangent over.

- I kept his fuck-ass bob, it's simply too iconic, though I gave it a bit more volume and shape. You can decide if he's a natural blonde or not lol.

- I headcanon him to be Chinese and French, and he grew up bilingual. Has a hell of and accent and when he gets upset, they just swap to either Chinese or French, it's a fifty-fifty depending on the day.

- They're not super visible but the bow and arrow earrings were a gift from Vil to celebrate Rook winning an archery competition. I think it was pretty early in their friendship but that's when Rook registered her feelings for Vil.

- For as open as Rook is about finding others attractive, it gets nervous to directly compliment Vil to her face. This is more obvious with saying "I love you," which he doesn't mind tossing out to most people, it's just really personal toward Vil so they avoid saying it lol.

- Most of the compliments that Rook gives Vil are things Vil is already aware of so Rook doesn't chance bringing up all the things they love about Vil. (Can you tell I love them?)

Enough about RookVil. Time for my boy!!

🍎Epel Felmier🍎

(he/him) Transmasc - Gay

*Breaks out the southern accent* Y'all thought the others thus far have been long, hoo boy... Y'all are in for a real treat.

- Firstly, my boy is transmasc. I feel like that's pretty widely accepted 'round these parts but I figured I should shout it out anyways.

- I made him mixed, Scandinavian? and Japanese and gave him some brown eyes to boot. Kept his face real dainty but gave him broader shoulders and a farmer's tan 'cause y'all know he's working at his parent's farm every summer.

- He's styled in like, the southern goth aesthetic and I added some green to his hair 'cause the 'poison' part of 'poisoned apple' wasn't coming across enough. By the way, his grandma dyes her hair in solidarity with him. She's cool. Be like Epel's grandma.

- When he first arrived at NRC, he only had his lobes pierced, then he saw Jade's piercings and was like "I want that,". Jade directed him to Cater, who gave him all his other piercings (not at the same time lmao). Everytime he got a new one, Vil would have a minor heart attack lol.

- I think he'd also actually really like cute things, one of the reasons he lets Vil doll him up for so long, but hates bringing it up 'cause people call him 'girly' or 'feminine' for it. This is another underlying factor for my Jack/Epel dynamic but I'll save that for later.

- Speaking of Savanaclaw, I think he has plans to transfer at the beginning of sophomore year. Also, because he hangs around Jack so much, they kinda consider him a part of the pack. In particular, Epel also really looks up to Leona and approached him in Spelldrive Club about transferring. Leona agreed and took notice of Epel's admiration and if he puts a little more effort into practise afterwards, that's no one's business. (I think he's be like, "Goddammit, these kids keep looking up to me... I should at least give them something worth looking up to." Only the MC would know, and probably Ruggie would notice just having know Leona.) Also, Epel saw Leona's chaps and immediately wanted a pair. Leona took him out to get some and when they got back, Vil was horrified lmao.

I love Epel/Savanaclaw dynamic sm omg but onto my ocs... (Also, I really hope y'all read that with a southern accent, I think it's hilarious lol)

���Calendula Dame💋

Third Year - (she/her) - Sapphic Aromantic

- She's twisted from Mother Gothel, who, can I just say, SLAYED in her movie ong. Though Disney really needs work on their representation, specifically the fact that her character is very Jewish-coded (I don't think she's canonically Jewish but please correct me if I'm wrong) but is portrayed in an anti-Semitic way, feeding into negative stereotypes. I'm not the most knowledgeable person to speak on this issue and I know it's been throughly discussed by others so please feel free to research it. I did have a friend who is Jewish help me make her character and I hope I did her justice!

- I made her Jewish, specifically Ashkenazi and conservative. I'm not quite sure yet how this would translate into Twisted Wonderland but we'll see.

- She's all about makeup products and she and Vil compare skincare routines in a sort of friendly competition.

- Another fun nod is she loves gardening. Namely flowers but occasionally crops and herbs. She's got her own little plot in the greenhouse and she and Epel discuss gardening tips together.

- She's also a nail artist and quite skilled at that. She has a small 'business' and is especially booked around school events.

Now for one some of y'all have wanted to see for a bit...

🦚Tupac Huamani🦚

Second Year - (he/him) Transmasc - Pan-Demiromantic

The one man I've made this whole time lmaooo.

- Tupac is my Yzma twist! His name is Incan, ironically meaning 'royal', as I figured out The Emperor's New Groove is inspired by Incan culture!

- He's the most flamboyant twink to ever walk the earth and I love him for that. That being said, he and Rocío are my token 'heteros'. They've been friends since first year and get along extremely well. He's got book smarts but literally no common sense. She has no common sense either and so they j st get into silly shenanigans together. I love them sm my little sillies.

- He's more into dramatic makeup and loves to do Rocío's because she's not into makeup and doesn't really know how to do it lol. He's also made her get a nice skincare routine which she follows diligently as she likes routines.

- Probably a part of the Boardgame Club, though I'm not sure how well he does. He probably just enjoys hanging out with the people and the banter rather than the games themselves, though I think he'd be very good at chess and other strategy games.

Up next is...

🐈‍⬛Chaisee Noi🐈‍⬛

First Year - (he/she/it) Genderfluid - Asexual Aromantic

- The first of a set of twins twisted from the Siamese twins in Lady and the Tramp (I think that's what they're in, it's been a hot sec lol). I made them mixed, Black and Thai as Siamese cats originate from Thailand.

- Onto Chaisee specifically, I think he's the 'black cat' personality out of the two of them. She's on the more reserved side and is more blunt and to the point than his sibling is. Also autistic and has particular issues with loud noise and food textures. Not a fan of physical contact and hates being touched without permission.

- He like to fluxuate between masc and fem styles a lot (with the fem pictured here) and enjoys suits for formal wear.

- While it's into fashion, he likes to be more of a rough sketch and designer than actually doing the sewing. Her designs are quite avant-garde and lean into lots of floral patterns.

- She and Nasira work together to come up with different floral arrangements, both for Chaisee's designs and for Nasira's dorm.

For the other twin...

🐈Churai Noi🐈

First Year - (they/them) Nonbinary - Pansexual

- Churai is the 'tabby' cat energy one. They're very affectionate and full of energy. They love to help out others and are constantly doing things with other people.

- A hands-on person, Churai loves sewing and is a part of the sewing club. They tend to be the primary person to work on their sibling's designs because of the level of detail needed.

- ADHD and has to be doing something at all times. Because of this, they have a TON of hobbies, ranging from scrap-booking to fishing to reading about random topics. Gets along incredibly well with Kalim and they love hanging out with him. Also a very touchy person, loves hugs and cuddles!

- Their style is more on the feminine side and they love making cute dresses to wear. Definitely takes a lot of inspiration from the gyaru and harujuku fashion scenes.

⚡Corentin Benoit⚡

First Year - (she/her) - Asexual Aromantic

Last of my Pomefiore characters and second of the triplets, Corentin Benoit!

- The technical oldest of the triplets and she holds that over their heads. She's was both happy and not to be in a different dorm than her younger siblings.

- Looks up to Hestia a lot and wants to be like her when she grows up (as if Hestia know what she's doing but yk).

- She's particularly interested in the poison aspect of Pomefiore and is keen to eventually become housewarden. As such, she's asked for Vil's help to learn as much as she can about making them.

I don't have a lot for her yet but god, this has taken so fcuking long to write omg. I hope y'all liked it! Ignihyde is next!~

[broomsick]

Heathen-izing your spring celebrations

The earth wakes up from its slumber, snowdrops poke through Skaði's coat of frost, yada yada. You guys know I'm not such a huge fan of spring. I do have, after all, a favorable bias towards winter (sue me). However, something paganism has helped me develop is the taste for each of the seasons our planet has to offer. Having worshipped Freyr for quite a long time, I've come to appreciate the beauty of spring. For one, the celebrations that come with the equinox. Spring festivals carry quite the unique, undeniable excitement, after all! Which is why I'm very happy to share some of my personal practices and ideas regarding norse-paganism oriented spring festivals.

Quick disclaimer! Unlike Jól, the celebration of spring in Iron Age Scandinavia and within the Germanic tribes is quite poorly documented. We've got access to little to no sources describing practices surrounding spring or the spring equinox. Still, I hope this handful of personal ideas and practices prove useful to you! I've summed up a few interesting historically attested (or attested-ish) practices as well, but I suggest looking into them by yourself if you're interested in more detailed information.

The basics

I'm going to assume that many of you are already familiar with what neo-pagan sources generally consider the "symbols" of the spring equinox. Why the rabbit? Because spring marks the beginning of the mating season among hares and lagomorphs. Why the eggs? Because they're a symbol of birth and renewal. Still, neither one of these symbols has any strong ties to historical practice, least of all in Germanic traditions. In the case of Scandinavian practice specifically, the painting of eggs is more often than not believed to have originated within Christian circles before moving north. That doesn't mean, however, that the symbols of hares/rabbits and eggs can't be used in pagan practice! I use them to decorate for the spring equinox no matter their origin, simply because I really do think they fit with the mood, for the reasons previously mentioned. I also love using local symbols of spring, such as snowdrops, to decorate. If you're looking to weave more norse pagan tradition into your celebration, phallic idols/representations are the way to go. They are a major symbol of Freyr, who is closely tied to spring. By worshipping this symbol, you are asking for the prosperity of the land! You can start by "cleansing" the symbol, so to speak, using incense smoke or water depending on what material it is made out of. I tend to use melted snow to cleanse it, to further the symbolism of spring. If you're on a budget or simply aren't interested in buying such an idol, anything can still be turned into a phallic symbol, honestly. A simple tree branch you've picked up outside could do the trick nicely, after you've trimmed away whatever sticks out of it! This is just an example, but I'll trust your creativity to find anything that you feel works as a phallic symbol.

Deity work/worship

At this time of year, it's also pretty commonplace to make offerings to the Vanir, the landvættir and your local Dísir! You can thank them for the summer that has passed, and the one that’s to come. You can ask for a plentiful year, and for an abundance of resources. If you’re not sure how to go about working with landvættir, I suggest taking a quick look at this previous post I made on the topic of land spirit work. Landdísir are especially venerated by neo-pagans at this time of year, because they are considered the guardians of one’s land. By offering something to them, and/or the landvættir, you show your respect for the land itself. I’ve already spoken a bit about worship of Freyr for the coming spring, but let me dig a little deeper on that topic. I almost feel compelled to do so because his association with spring was so widespread that he was at the center of an important springtime festival called Disting. This festival was especially important in Uppsala, where large numbers of people would gather to make sacrifices for victory, and where lovers would allegedly exchange gifts. However, Disting and Dísablót are very often mixed up, as the difference between the two vary depending on the region. But back to our main topic: springtime Freyr worship today. Effigies of boars make for great decoration to invoke the benevolence of the King of Kings. After all, the boar held a major role in his worship: it's generally viewed as his fylgja, and boars were sacrificed to him on Yuletide, according to the Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks. This is the reason I treat my loved ones and myself to boar meat around the equinox, or when it's truly starting to feel like spring. I cook a meal out of boar (trying to change up the recipe every time!) and share it around to family members or neighbors. In fact, the act of sharing has become quite an important part of my worship of Freyr. It allows me to embody his generosity and benevolence! You could see this as a form of devotional. Now if you’re looking for more ideas on Freyr worship, this other post I wrote could prove useful!

The next deity I'll be touching on is the Anglo-Saxon goddess Eostre (otherwise called Ostara), who understandably comes up often when researching the Vernal equinox. We unfortunately know very little about her, including whether she was ever worshipped in history. One thing's for sure, though: she is certainly worshipped by many pagans today, which is why I would suggest looking, not only into historical sources, but also into SPG and UPG if you're interested in devoting a ritual/offering to her. She is heavily associated with dawn, which is why her devotees will sometimes wake up to see the sun rise on the day of the equinox. Dew and flowers are common offerings to her! While I’m at it, let’s talk about flowers some more. They are your best friends when it comes to decoration! Natural ones obviously feel a little more lively, but it’s also perfectly fine to use artificial ones, or even ones made out of paper! They make excellent material for crafts, and having flowers inside the house can be likened to inviting spring itself within your home.

At this time of year, many heathens also engage in Sigrblót ("victory sacrifice"), a blót for victory, or success. This conveniently aligns with Freyr worship, which is often oriented towards finances, personal success or else, due to his association with fertility. The Sigrblót was attested in the Ynglingasaga, though it could be better described as a celebration of the coming summer rather than of spring itself. Now, this celebration is sometimes called Somarsdag ("summer's day"), and it's often said to happen on the fourth full moon after Jól, or on the 16th of April. However, if you aren't tied to any particular group and tend to perform blót alone, I'd say Sigrblót could very well be celebrated on any designated day which feels right to you. Pretty much all the information we have on that sacrifice is speculation, but it would make plenty of sense to perform it around the equinox, in my opinion. The Sigrblót is the perfect occasion to set some goals for yourself! After all, you’re asking for victory! What’s a project you wish to see succeed this year? Since Óðinn is very tightly associated with victory, you can choose to involve him in this ritual, by devoting an offering or a song to him, for example.

Another practice that’s great for a springtime celebration is lighting a fire! It’s a great way to symbolize the return of the sun and warmth. If you are interested in sun worship or if you already actively engage in it, this is an opportunity to do something for Sól! This activity is something that makes for a beautiful devotional. If your area is already pretty warm and if you’ve got the right fixtures, why not make a bonfire outside! And if your area, like mine, still looks like it’s halfway through January, a fire in the hearth will do the job perfectly. Lighting candles does the trick as well, and what's useful about them is that you can carry them around your home, so as to “spread the sun’s light” in your living area, and set them on windowsills to welcome the sun! I actually usually couple the lighting of the hearth with the Sigrblót. Once the blót is performed, I can throw written prayers or wishes in the fire. Though it doesn’t stem from any historical ritual, I’ve developed the habit of carving the simple shape of the Isa rune on a piece of wood, which I throw in the fire to symbolize the end of winter, the melting of the ice! A means of saying goodbye to winter that’s passed, so to speak. If you’re working with candles, this could be done by writing the rune on a piece of paper.

[ashenlavellan]

Dragon Age Warden & Champion TAG

I was re-tagged by @samanthess since I’ve already done my Inky - so, now I’ll be doing my Warden and Champion!

Name: Ceren Azra Tabris

Nickname: Ceri (created by Leliana - Ceren uses this nickname during later events, since she is undercover for awhile) | Mia dea, which is Italian for “my goddess” (solely used by Zevran)

Gender: Female

Star Sign: Pisces Sun // Libra Moon // Scorpio Rising

Height: 5’5” (Zevran is 5’7”)

Orientation: Heterosexual

Nationality/Ethnicity: Half-Fereldan/Half-Rivain (she is half-Welsh and half-Turkish)

Favorite Fruit: Pomegranate - she loves the texture and nibbling on them when multi-tasking.

Favorite Season: Fall - likes the cooler weather, but not too cold.

Favorite Flower: Water-Lilies - hard to find within Denerim, but her mother once purchased a small bouquet and hand-pressed them into her journal.

Favorite Scent: Jasmine and Sandalwood - muskier and earthy scents, soothes her and the latter is part of Zevran’s cologne.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Coffee - she tried a brew that’s local from Antiva, thanks to Zevran swiping some from a merchant.

Avg. hours of sleep: (Pre-Origins) around 7 hrs. (Origins and onward) around 4.5 hrs. due to nightmares.

Dogs or Cats: she likes both, but slightly prefers cats.

Number of Blankets: Rarely has one, unless facing extreme cold - has higher body warmth than normal, especially when Zevran cuddles with her.

Dream Trip: Antiva - she wants to try the many dishes that Zevran described to her, as well as taking down a cell of Crows like they’re an appetizer.

Random Fact: she hardly managed to style/braid her once it got as long as it did, but Zevran always offers to style her hair since he’s gentler when braiding or styling.

————————————————————————————

Name: Lysandra Brynhildr Hawke

Nicknames: Lys (companions call her by this), Lysa (Carver calls her this once their relationship is mended, but Bethany came up with it), and Mitt hjärta (Fenris calls her this after she teaches him some of her mother tongue - means “my heart”)

Gender: Female

Star Sign: Taurus Sun // Aquarius Moon // Sagittarius Rising

Height: 5’9” (Fenris is 5’8”)

Orientation: Bisexual

Nationality/Ethnicity: Half-Fereldan/Half Free-Marcher (Half-Welsh/Half-Scandinavian)

Favorite Fruit: Strawberries - whenever she’s able to find grains of sugar, she dips them into it if not fully ripe. (her father taught her this)

Favorite Season: Late Spring - Early Summer

Favorite Flower: Amaryllis - Bethany and her grew a small garden once they fully settled in Lothering

Favorite Scent: Ylang-Ylang and Chamomile - once managed to purchase a candle infused with this scent.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Tea - specifically chamomile before going to bed.

Avg. hours of sleep: (Prologue) 8 hrs. / (Arc I) 7 - 8hrs. / (Arc II) 6.5 - 7hrs. / (Arc III) 6.5 hrs. / (Inquisition) 6 hrs.

Dogs or Cats: Dogs - she’s always been around them and she dearly treasure her mabari hound.

Dream Trip: Orzammar - she’d heard the details when reading the memoirs that Ceren had released and wants to see the culture herself.

Number of Blankets: Just one, especially since Fenris holds her when they sleep. She runs a little warm due to her magic.

Random Fact: Out of all of them [Ceren, herself, and Juniper] she’s actually the first to deal with pregnancy and gave birth shortly before her appearance in Inquisition.

Thank you so much for tagging me - I enjoyed doing this again! I hope you love them as much as I do - whoever wants to do their Warden and Hawke, feel free to use mine as a tag to you!!

[luneemeritus]

「Kisses in summer night」

(Leroux Erik / Christine) Romantic, SFW

NOTES: this is my first fanfiction i post here and i'm so nervous because english is not my first language, please be kind!! Btw, this is Leroux Erik and Leroux Christine 💋

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A cold and orange afternoon covered the sky of Paris, the last glints of the sun slowly agonizing on the horizon before disappearing completely. This was the time when most men returned to their homes after a long day at work – and unfortunately, others were just beginning a journey of hellish fatigue. However, whatever was going on in the sick, dystopian world outside didn't interest Christine. The Scandinavian soprano has spent most of her recent days in the catacombs of Paris since she met her Maestro in person. She was certainly surprised to discover that the Angel of Music was a man of flesh and blood. A man she could touch and see. She considered him a divine gift, even as mortal and imperfect.

Christine was not forced to stay downstairs, and she was well aware that her adoptive mother and her acquaintances were curious and worried about her long periods of absence. But she couldn't resist. She loved spending hours and hours in that place, next to The Phantom. Her will was never to leave the dark catacombs again, never again to feel the fatal light of day burn her white and ruddy skin, and Erik's presence was her main reason. That afternoon, he was gone most of the day... he insisted on shopping for his student and guest, but all that stress and interaction with other people just made him irritable. Erik hated leaving the house, hated being in public and interacting with human beings. In addition to hatred, he was afraid. Poor Erik.

When he returned to his lair on that evening, he felt tired and sore after walking so far. He wasn't used to exercising, walking a lot or even leaving the house to get some sun. Yes, his care for his own health was questionable. But Christine still loved and admired him, and she cared for him even though she wouldn't admit it. She was engaged in academic reading during his absence, but as much fun and interesting as Nana was, Erik's arrival was far more important.

— Survived the outside world? – Christine asked in an ironic tone, closing the book and following her teacher's discouraged steps.

— Barely – he replied, tossing the shopping bags onto the couch and pulling off his cloak – I don't know how you manage to exist out there without freaking out.

Erik was visibly stressed and tired; his fingers trembled in agony, which always happens when he anxious. Despite this, he was still willing to sit down at the piano and try some composing. Christine moved closer to him, keeping her hands tucked into her dress – she wasn't sure it felt right to touch him right now.

— Try to get some rest, Maestro. You're not well, you won't be able to compose today.

— I'm fine, Christine. It's over... – his voice came out weak and trembling – the looks, that crowd of people squeezing me... it's over...

— Next time, I'll go with you. You've been so kind to me this week, sacrificing yourself out there to please me, I need to make it up to you somehow.

— Your presence alone is more reward than I deserve, Christine. – he made an effort to smile at her, it was still strange to express himself to other people without his mask.

Erik focused on the piano, still a little embarrassed by his student's proximity. It was stressful in every way imaginable, which reflected in his performance – he frequently missed notes when he was anxious, and his creative mind was still too blocked to write anything. But he didn't want the luxury of confessing his weaknesses to Christine; no, they weren't close enough. Not yet. He tried to ignore her presence there, avoiding eye or physical contact.

But what Erik didn't expect to feel at that moment were Christine's small and delicate hands touching his shoulders. And it wasn't just touching, she was massaging his stressed muscles. It wasn't long before he felt less sore, the muscles relaxing as Christine gently twisted them with her slender fingers. Yes, it was a very good feeling, even if it provoked an annoying shyness in the Maestro – but he would not be ignorant to refuse that privilege. Erik didn't know what to say, so he just stopped playing and accepted the affection. He was careful not to slump into her body or even sigh at the relief her hands brought him.

— You need to relax – Christine said at last – You're too hard on yourself. You don't have to be strong all the time, not by my side.

— Oh, hum, thanks. I-I... I don't know how to take care of myself. I didn't have the opportunity to learn how.

— Let me take care of you, then. – she realized that her suggestion left the Maestro awkward and embarrassed, he was still hesitant and shy.

Christine quickly sat down behind Erik in the small space left over from the bench and laid his head on her chest. She continued massaging his shoulders, this time he allowed himself to sigh at her soft touch. For a moment, all of her tiredness and stress from before was completely gone. He craved Christine's touch – as simple and chaste as it was – every day, every night, every moment. I craved them at levels that were painful, almost physically. But he was too insecure to ask for them, he felt like a damned gargoyle demanding the unworthy affection of a divine angel. Erik realized that he needed to surrender to his own desires every now and then... no, he didn't need to be strong all the time. Next to her, he could be himself.

Immersed in brief comfort, eyes closed, Erik was unprepared for the soprano's next move – she leaned in and placed a warm, lingering kiss on the crook of his neck. He opened his eyes in fright, his pale skin reddening like a cherry in a matter of seconds. Christine, still blushing with her, let out a soft, low laugh as she realized the effect her kiss had had on the Maestro.

— You look like a tomato – she said, in an amused tone.

— I-I noticed... and it's because of you... – Erik replied awkwardly, unable to hold back his shy smile as he rubbed his hands together.

Christine didn't answer, just gasped weakly and trailed kisses down the curve of his neck, feeling him grow warmer. She didn't stop there, pulling a little of his shirt away and kissing his shoulders. It was the first time she had heard Erik laugh and sigh, filled with a happiness and relief he never thought he could reach.

— You are so strange, Maestro – she commented, without stopping kissing him – You seek affection and when you receive it, you are scared.

— It was a quest… a bit platonic, at least that's what I thought. Oh! – he gasped, surprised to feel his student's sweet lips kissing his face – Oh, Christine… I don't deserve this. She kissed his cheek harder and caressed the other half of his face with her left hand while her right massaged Erik's chest.

— You deserve this and much more – Christine kissed the corner of his lip – Please start loving yourself the way I love you.

— I-I... – he turned his face slightly, receiving a chaste kiss on the lips – I'll try.

At that moment, it was his turn to act. Erik turned his torso to the side and hugged Christine tightly, kissing her passionately as he threaded his hands through the soprano's golden hair. He was hungry and desperate for her touch, for the sweet pink lips she possessed. She returned the affection and wrapped her arms around his neck, but it didn't take long for her to pull away from the kiss, gasping for air. Both were flushed, panting and smiling, caressing each other with their faces. Erik kissed her lightly on the forehead.

— I love you very much, Christine. Much more than my own life – he whispered – Let me sleep on top of you tonight, my Angel. All I want is to lay on your breasts and sleep hugging you.

— You will never be alone again, Erik. – she answered with a sweet smile and a calm, loving voice.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, kissing and smelling her pale skin – now lightly flushed like a delicate tulip. She kissed him on the forehead and remained wrapped around him, her sun-colored hair falling over Erik's shoulder. Nights were never as calm as this one.

[ashandquiet]

My Most Unswerving Devotion

Chapter 4: The Duke's Ball

Regency! Soma Jarlskona x F!Reader

Summary: Since coming to Norfolk to stay with your family, the conversations have all revolved around matrimony. Just when your aunt has found a match for you much to your chagrin, quite by accident you fall for the wealthy Duke of Cambridgeshire; Soma Guthrumsdóttir. Can circumstance truly keep you apart?

A/N: Our heroine arrives at the home of the Duke and explores the splendorous halls of her manor.  I hope you all enjoy this update! I would love to know what you imagine your ballgown to look like, please visit my ask box and let me know there!

Read it on Ao3

You spent the next week buried in letters from Oswald, the rate of your correspondence had your aunt whispering about how you were surely in love, and how marriage couldn’t be far off. Yet that could not be further from the truth.

If she could’ve seen the true nature of your letters she would have been severely disappointed by the mention of Oswald’s other amour, Valdis, and that you were set to help him woo her and gain approval from her elder brothers; whose names you had come to learn were Brothir and Broder. They had fled from a gentleman in Denmark who was completely set on possessing Valdis even if that meant against her will. Due to these circumstances, the brothers were very apprehensive when it came to other alternate matches for their younger sister. 

So while you busied yourself with ways that Oswald could entreat himself upon Vadis’s brothers, your new friend had set about procuring all the names and likenesses that he could of the lady gentlemen about the countryside. 

In his most recent letter, Oswald assured you that at least three would be in attendance at the ball hosted by Soma Guthrumsdóttir. This list included the lady gentleman from the picnic, Birna Knudsen the daughter of some wealthy Scandinavian merchants, and the equerry to the Duke’s estate. Eivor Varinsdóttir, a friend of Oswald’s and apparently the Duke as well, was the orphaned child of a land-holding man in Norway who was adopted by another wealthy man. She and her brother had come to England to establish their own fortunes here.  And of course, there would be the fabled Duke of Cambridgeshire herself, Soma Guthrumsdóttir, as she was the host. Yet you doubted your chances of even meeting her.

While it was customary for the guests to introduce themselves at a normal ball, a masquerade was quite different. All you had to look for was the presence of women dressed as men with masquerade masks.

As you pondered the worn threads of the handkerchief while sitting at the old mahogany writing desk, you couldn’t help but feel a slight tinge of bitterness. 

Perhaps if you had been born wealthy or of better station you would have the luxury afforded to the women within the Duke’s inner circle. A life full of adventure and opportunity, and the freedom of financial choice. After all, it all came down to the money, it was not having it that put your future in jeopardy. Should your mother’s older brother have been more generous perhaps you wouldn’t have been forced into considering marriage as an economic proposition instead of one of amorous devotion. 

Perhaps all the books you have read have completely spoiled you, and true love didn't exist after all. 

You envied your new friend and his fortune in being a man, and his lady love for her vehemently protective older brothers blocking any idea of marriage.

You tried to shake the nasty feeling as you stood and paced about your room. Counting your blessings helped a bit to shirk the cruel sentiments away, you had made a friend, and he was willing to play at being your pretend suitor so that you could avoid matches at least till the end of the season. You had a mystery to unravel and a lady gentleman to chase, no matter how hopeless it seemed at times. And your uncle had just paid for a new dress to be constructed for you at the beginning of the summer, perhaps at the behest of your aunt and her insistence that your simple fashions would do little to win you the hand of a young man. 

But nonetheless, it had arrived from the dressmakers at just the right time. The elegant piece hung from the top of your boudoir now, with all its splendorous beading and embroidery. Its matching masquerade mask was fashioned with feathers and set upon a sculpted rod, with a loop for the wrist fashioned with a string of pearls. Truly the most opulent garment and accessories you had ever seen.

A pack of fortunate blessings indeed.

Regardless of the events to come at the ball, you resigned yourself to make the most of the evening.

ꕥ

On the evening of the ball, it was raining. 

You had stayed quiet while the maids helped you dress and affix your hair into a fashionable style with adjournments that complimented your dress in just the right way. They whispered and giggled about the joys of a ball and what a sensible event a masquerade could be for a burgeoning courtship. 

Apparently, all ears in the household were aware of the supposed romantic attachment between you and Mr. Egerton. You made a note to inform Oswald tonight that you would be limiting your letters to once a week before rumors could spiral completely out of hand. 

With your wrist freshly dressed with new bandages to cover the bruising and decorated with a pearl bracelet since gloves were out of the question due to limited mobility in your fingers, the maids stepped back to admire their handiwork and excused themselves back to other tasks.

“Are you alright miss?” One of the younger girls asked as the other two slipped out of the room with baskets of linens and your tray from afternoon tea.

You glanced over at her and offered a polite smile, “Yes, I’m alright, thank you.”

“If your wrist troubles you miss I could fetch some ice?”

“No it's quite alright thank you,” you hoped desperately you looked dismissive and that she’d leave. 

With a final nod, she collected her basket of things and shuffled out of the room leaving you alone with your thoughts at last. You rose from the vanity stool to stand by the large window of your bedroom. 

You rested your temple against the chilled glass watching as delicate droplets of summer rain hit the glass. Your thoughts were an incoherent mess, and your head was beginning to ache. Within a few hours, you would arrive at the home of the Duke of Cambridgeshire. 

There you would have to scour what you could of the faces of party guests all dressed in finery and hidden behind masquerade masks. All while at least appearing cordial to the young men in attendance. Perhaps, you could “lose” your dance card in the gardens, and then any attempt to secure a dance with you could be rebuked. For it would be positively impolite to promise dances to anyone if you couldn’t keep track of who had asked for dances.

Or you could “forget” to place them in your handbag altogether. Where would you positively have the space? You turned your attention to the handbag stuffing the handkerchief inside with a vail of peppermint smelling salts should you need them. You briskly made your way down the main staircase and into the foyer where your aunt and uncle waited for the carriage to be brought around front.

Ever the demure gentleman your uncle was dressed plainly in a simple suit, clutching his simple silk mask. Your aunt, however, was dressed extravagantly in a bright lilac brocade, a gauzy gossamer shawl wrapped around her shoulders, with her hair done up full of adornments. Her own masquerade mask much like your own was worn around her wrist on a bracelet, the gaudy thing looked heavy, all decorated with gold and feathers. 

She was so busy fussing over your uncle’s plain appearance, that when she finally caught sight of you she startled.

“Oh- my dear niece don’t you look just lovely! If you haven’t captured the heart of Mr. Egerton already you surely will tonight!” She swept her arms in large motions, making a full circle around you.

“Didn’t the dressmakers do the most wonderful job, dear husband?” She asked your uncle, though you weren’t sure she really expected him to answer.

“You look lovely Miss (Y/N),” your uncle nodded politely to you and walked towards the doors at the sound of the carriage wheels crunching on the wet stone pathway. “Now come on ladies, we don’t want to be late for the masquerade.”

You followed his lead and stepped out into the late afternoon air, despite the rain it was mildly warm out, and the smell of petrichor permeated the air with an almost iron quality. A butler held an umbrella over your head as you made your way to the carriage door, carefully lifting the skirts of your ballgown so they weren't ruined by the water that pooled in the rocks. On the horizon, you could see stretches of pink through the light spots in the clouds as the sun set just beyond the cover of rain.

As you took your seat you released a long breath and gazed out the window. Oswald had agreed to find you once you arrived, ask for a dance to keep your aunt satiated, and then after you would slip away and begin your investigation. All you had to do was survive this carriage ride. 

The whole of the carriage ride from your uncle's estate to the home of the Duke your aunt tittered about the humidity inside the carriage, the length of the ride, and the abysmal subject of the perversion of a woman to think she can take the title of a man. While you couldn’t help but wish that the sound of the rain on the carriage roof was loud enough to drown out her idle prattle, your uncle repeatedly rebuked her attempts to stir contempt toward your host.

“If you cannot bring yourself to be civil towards our host, I will have this carriage turned around at once,” your uncle stated plainly as he fiddled with the silk of his masquerade mask for the umpteenth time. “She has kindly extended an invitation to us, I do not understand where you have gained such a predisposition to dislike the Duke, but if you must. Please save the rest of us the misery of hearing you commiserate about it.”

Your aunt sputtered clutching at her gloves, “M-my love, but haven’t you heard she- she lays with women.”

“Must you really recycle that old rumor? Are you afraid she’ll steal all the young ladies of the countryside away from you?” Your uncle gave her a pointed look that suggested she say no more on the subject. 

“What would it matter if she did?” You asked softly as you fiddled with the wrap around your injured wrist.

“What would it matter-” Your aunt’s statement was cut short by a knock on the roof by the carriage driver. 

The sudden disturbance caused all heads to turn towards the windows, there in the shimmering night, lay a magnificent manor house. 

Even in the rain, the front was lit up with tiny glittering fires that shone off the cream-colored stone. Two mirrored staircases led from the oblong drive to an elevated terrace decorated with the boisterous blooms of hollyhock and delicate primroses, a Grecian colonnade held up a balcony lined with wisteria. Meticulously groomed hedges protected red-blooming crepe myrtle trees that hung heavy with blooms framed the front of the elegant home.

Identical glass doors lay open sending the raucous sounds of music and partygoers across the drive and waterlily-filled fountain, wherein the center three bare-breasted Grecian maidens poured water from painstakingly carved amphoras down into the pool that traveled the length of the drive. 

“It's… breathtaking…,” you whispered moving ever closer to the window feeling as if you looked away from the dream before you it would disappear.

“It certainly is, the old Duke did have a flair for the dramatic,” your uncle affirmed as the carriage rolled to a stop between the two staircases.

“I doubt the naked maidens were his addition,” your aunt quipped as servants dressed in deep Aegean blue vests approached with umbrellas.

Your uncle turned towards her sharply, “If you must make comments perhaps we should return home. (Y/N), would you like to stay?”

For all her previous bluster your aunt fell silent as all eyes turned to you. Now it was your decision. Stay and look for the truth, or go.

Mustering your courage you smiled politely, “I can ask Mr. Egerton to bring me home in his carriage come the parties end.”

“Then it’s settled,” your uncle nodded to the servant who drew open the doors and you climbed out of the dark humid carriage and into the dewy night air.

“Be polite!” Was the last cry from the woman you left behind as you climbed the stone staircase and raised your masquerade mask to your eyes. 

Finally, your hunt for the lady gentleman would begin.

ꕥ

Oswald met you in the main foyer, his own mask lifted so you could see his face, the mask pushed upwards mussed his blonde curls.

“Miss (Y/N), you’re here! And unchaperoned?” His voice was chipper yet cautious as he looked around for your aunt and uncle curiously.

“Due to, unforeseen… prejudice, I am attending unaccompanied yes, perhaps, it would be alright if I were to join you in your carriage for the ride back to Norfolk at the end of the night?” You asked moving your own mask aside so you could speak better. 

“But of course! I couldn’t leave such a friend stranded,” he smiled and offered you his arm. “Come with me, I’ll supply you with a tour.”

The interior was just as splendorous with wide-open common spaces and glamorous furnishing. Once you looked up to see the visage of a goddess draped in gold painted upon the ceiling, her long golden hair spilling around her like the rays of the sun, her face tranquil and her hands outstretched. 

Seasonal florals draped window sills and the edges of stairs, with spiraling candles decorating open spaces, illuminating the guests in a warm golden hue. The smell of orange flower cordial mixed with that of fresh fruit and decadent cheeses on table tops. Waiters stood in doorways and common areas with trays of ratsfia and punch, others with water and ices.

As Oswald guided you around the wide sprawling rooms decorated with paintings and sculptures, opulent rugs, and elegant drapery you became acutely aware that you were amongst a different sort of company here. Something about the energy that radiated from the very walls and the people that filled the rooms oozed safety and community. 

While it was likely that societal rules still applied here, you pondered which rules exactly, surely not the same rules of the society your aunt clung to so vehemently. The ones where women wore dresses and men wore suits, where propriety was following the exact societal pressures to the letter. Women married men and had babies, and most certainly didn’t go about the countryside kissing other ladies. 

After Oswald had shown you around the quieter rooms with their art, the pair of you entered the main ballroom you were quickly overcome by all the sights, colors, and smells. 

A small ensemble of performers played jovial music from a raised platform in a far corner, filling the space with sound. Here people danced and laughed, chatted, and clapped along with the music. Everyone dressed in their finery faces obscured by masks of all kinds. 

The heat of the bodies all around you made you glad of the open doors along the exterior walls, they bid glances out to the manicured gardens and the cool stone columns that lined the veranda. 

You motioned for Oswald to halt and picked a place near enough to the doors that a gentle night breeze could cool your heated skin. He obliged and led you towards the nearest unoccupied high table. Thankful for the reprieve you placed your handbag down on the table. It was becoming difficult to hold up both your masquerade mask and the weight of the handbag with only one hand.

Now with the space between you and your companion, you felt free to let your eyes wander about the room. For a moment they lingered on a tall blonde woman dressed in blacks and blues and stayed there. You took account of her stylish men's suit, another lady gentleman. Her own mask was styled to look like a raven decorated with black feathers and silver detailing. The embroidery of her suit jacket was styled like that of the ancient Viking wood carvings and ravens. Oswald must’ve caught your glance because he leaned in so you could hear him over the din.

“My friend Eivor,” he said, and you recalled the name with a nod. “The woman wearing the cat mask with her is Valka, an old friend of her’s recently came from Norway.”

You nodded observing the pair, Valka was dressed elegantly yet almost simply in black, and her hair was wrapped in a black scarf making the natural ashen color of her mask stand out against the black silk. Soon a middling-height red-headed woman dressed in cobalt blue joined them from the dance that just concluded. 

Oswald tapped the table lightly, “I’ll be right back, what do you say to a capillaire? Or perhaps a rose water?”

“Just a rose water would be fine thank you,” You nodded and waved him off letting your eyes continue to scan the crowd. 

You spotted at least two other women dressed in gentlemen's clothes upon his departure and began to wonder if Oswald was really right about the country being filled with lady gentlemen. Maybe you operated in the completely wrong circles after all. Flushing you began to wonder how many ladies were in attendance that like you, held sapphic tendencies. 

How many people had fled the ball before even entering the otherworldly manor house at the sight of the bare-breasted maidens alone? Or was the mention of the Duke’s name and her reputation alone enough to scare people away.

You noticed a tall lady gentleman weaving through the crowd, her dark hair pulled back, her own masquerade mask the visage of a horse. She approached the blonde, Eivor, and her companions and began speaking to them in a bright and affable way. From the musical lilt of her voice, you recognized her from the picnic as Birna Knudsen, the equerry of the estate. 

That was two of the lady gentlemen Oswald had mentioned accounted for, you bit your knuckle as you glanced around the room curiously. Where would a Duke be in a place of such affluence and lush?

Oswald returned just as you had begun to admire the beautiful frescoes that adorned the ceilings. 

“One rose water for the lady,” He said as he passed you the fine coupe glass. 

“Thank you,” you took a sip and couldn’t help but sigh, the cool liquid helped to chill you. “I hadn’t realized how hot I was feeling.”

Oswald nodded as he sipped his own drink, “I hope you won’t find it an impertinence but I was thinking about joining the revelry…”

You shook your head quickly, “No please, go enjoy your evening.”

“Well, if you're so eager to be rid of me,” he teased but smiled. “Come and find me should you need anything (Y/N).”

With that, he was gone and you were left alone with your glass of rose water and a puzzle to unpick.

After a bit more time people-watching in the main ballroom, you picked up your handbag and decided to explore the open rooms of the manor at your own pace. In one room you found a pianoforte which was being played by a younger girl, who would surely have been very good if not for her singing. In another room, two men sat whispering and chuckling to themselves their hands clasped together affectionately. Neither seemed to notice or care about your presence or any other person in the room for that matter, one of the gentlemen leaned in close, cupping the other's face, and planted a sweet loving kiss upon his nose. 

You felt flush upon seeing such a private moment of affection and fled the room. Embarrassment fluttered in your chest as you ducked out onto a balcony, blushing you leaned up against a wall. You could not begin to comprehend how you felt, the moment of intimacy burned in your mind. The idea of being so open with the one you love, in such a public space as a ball, regardless of gender. 

You sighed and stepped away from the wall and walked along the edge of the overhang, letting the cool mist from the rain that bounced off the stone cool your flush skin. From your handbag, you pulled the handkerchief, its worn threads soothing your piqued nerves.

How strange, you found yourself thinking, that such a small thing could provide such comfort. You closed your eyes and sighed leaning up against one of the Grecian columns letting the soft plip-plop of raindrops on stone, cooled evening air, and the sweet perfume of evening primroses wash over you.

In your thoughts you were there again, the lady gentleman’s hands, gently caressing your injured wrist, her brassy voice tranquil and kind. You could still smell the grass, and feel the warmth of the afternoon sun, yet around the edges, the memory was beginning to fade.

The sound of footsteps brutally yanked you from the echo of your encounter. You stood up straight and turned to face the person who interrupted your reverie.

There stood a lady gentleman, her rich brown hair pulled back into a loose bun and some strands hung loose about her neck and chin, her face was uncovered by a mask allowing you to examine her strong features more thoroughly. She had a strong jaw and a quizzical brow, her stormy gray eyes caught the candlelight and shone like fresh foam on the sea. She was dressed elegantly in a black waistcoat lined with shimmering yellow silk, and her vest was embroidered with all manner of florals and the sign of a snake on the lapel. In her hand, she held your mask, you must've dropped it in your haste.

“Miss, I believe you dropped this,” She approached slowly, her honey-rich voice dripped with concern and something, like confusion. And yet you knew exactly who it was, in all your waking dreams you would know her voice.

She paused steps away from you, quickly examining your form. In the most tender voice, that almost cracked on every syllable, “Dove… is that you…?”