#Mithros

[morphmaker]

Song of the Lioness No. 12: Faithful the Cat

[nerdanelthefae]

Sky fire above, ice below the hearth.

[lexalovesbooks]

I also really wish we could have seen the moments where everyone finally gets to talk to kihrin after his stunt at the end of the discord of gods and just read him (and presumably Janel and Teraeth and Thurvishar too since I’m sure they were all in on it) the riot act like Hey. what the fuck were you thinking? I know everyone’s reactions were priceless i know it

[idreamtiflew]

"Mithros, and Goddess, we pray you, grant your blessing. Strip the veils of hate from our eyes, and the grip of bitterness from our hearts. Teach us to be pure in our souls, dedicated only to service, duty, and honor."

The development and journey Lord Wyldon takes throughout Kel's page training (and beyond) is arguably my favorite character arc within any book I have read. There are so many moments between the two of them once he begins to come around --and after he has fully realized how special not only she is, but female warriors in general are-- that bring the prick of tears to my eyes on every single read.

[clonerightsagenda]

Kel is the Tortall heroine who doesn't meet any of the great gods because she met a minor more localized divinity and called it a bully to its face and then dared it to kill her. If she'd met Mithros she would've called him a bitch.

[goodgrammaritan]

Faithful/Pounce not included because he is "a constellation, not a god." And also because I think he'd run away with the poll otherwise. (But he works for the Great Mother Goddess, hence the black cat emoji.)

The Green Lady (Daine's mom) not included because we barely see her in goddess mode; her role in the books is more as Daine's mother than as a deity.

Chamber of Ordeal included because it's the closest thing to a deity in the Protector of the Small books, and I wanted to represent all five series. Plus, it gives visions and provides judgment, so, y'know. Godlike.

[fytortall]

I swear on Miss Rose and the goddess that in the Alano books, Raul has blonde hair, and I am so sure of this because I remember when I was reading that he had a blonde mustache in lioness rampant, and it is freaked me out ever since dad but just now inquire he is described as having black hair and I need to know if that is a mistake

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Translation: I swear on Mithros and the Goddess that in the Alanna books, Raoul has blonde hair. And I am so sure of this because I remember I was reading that he had a blonde mustache in Lioness Rampant, and it freaked me out ever since. But just now in Squire he is described as having black hair and I need to know if that is a mistake.

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** note: Amanda confirmed that Raoul is not blonde in Lioness Rampant and that Holly was probably thinking of Gary

[funkytoesart]

new Tortall Universe oc :) I don't have her backstory nailed down yet but I do know that she's the (half-human??) daughter of the King of the Gods Mithros, and grew up in Scanra near the border of Tortall

[cricketnationrise]

Okay, in the end I couldn't pass up: Kel in New Hope at [I can't remember how they do time and the books are all the way on the other side of the room so the Tortall equivalent of 10:17am]

a little almost post-Scanran war moment. no i don't know if that's how it would work in 'real' life but i like the vibes of this one - (new) hope you like it! 💜

want your own ficlet? rules here

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

new hope, third bell after breakfast

Kel opened the next letter on her desk with a sigh; Wyldon never warned her about the sheer volume of paperwork that being in charge generated. But he probably didn’t have to deal with correspondence that was downright rude about his person, his title, and his command. Even after returning from Scanra with over four hundred of her refugees, the hate mail addressed to Kel continued, especially once New Hope had been built and she had a fixed location once again.

She doesn’t get further than ‘ought to be ashamed of yourself’ before she throws the letter on the pile to be burned. Lighting the nonsense on fire was the simplest way Kel had found to deal with the avalanche of hate sent her way. It had been Neal’s idea, originally, all the way back in Corus when they were still pages. It still baffled Kel that people bothered to spend time on an insulting letter to a stranger (and a child) purely because her life didn’t look how they thought it ought to.

The next letter made her smile – Fianola had sent her an update on her page training, with a veiled plea for more bruise balm. Kel made a mental note to have Neal make some more up and send it out with the next messenger to Corus. The next were all inventory reports she would have to collate and parse through before sending her end of month report to Wyldon. Thank Mithros for clerks – Kel didn’t know how she’d ever done without them.

Finally, she got to the last letter and Kel sat up straight when she saw the official seals of the King and the Magistrate’s Office. She opened it carefully and felt her eyes widen when she read the opening line. She needed to alert the camp. Still clutching the letter, Kel ran out of her office and rang the bell at the center of the practice yard, summoning the residents.

Less than five minutes later, the entire camp was assembled. There was a low-level of curious muttering among the people, but Kel’s lack of weaponry and armor and the smile she couldn’t quite control made any worry of an attack fall by the wayside.

“Everyone’s here, Kel, except the duty watch on the wall.”

“Thank you, Merric. I’ll catch them up right after this,” she replied before shifting her voice to a Command volume. “Thank you for assembling so quickly. New Hope got some news this morning, and I wanted to tell you all straight away.” 

“Are we being granted a new shipment of mud?” Neal asked. The gathered refugees and off-duty soldiers, her people, laughed at his impertinent tone.

“Not until the next rainstorm, Sir Nealan. But we are being granted something.” She beamed out at them all, proud beyond measure that they’d all gotten to this point.

“King Jonathan and Queen Thayet send their regards, and advise that following the signing of the Peace Treaty with Scanra that is currently being negotiated, New Hope will become an permanent Town – meaning that once the war is officially over, you all have the option of remaining here and building a more permanent life.”

“And who would be in charge?” Fanche called out.

Kel could feel herself blush but stood straight, reading directly from the letter. “‘The Crown suggests Lady Knight Commander Keladry of Mindelan to serve as New Hope’s first mayor, pending approval from the residents and her own acceptance of the role.’” She paused there, unsure how to go on. 

“Well that settles it, I’m staying,” Seafas said, breaking the silence. Ripples of agreement went through the crowd.

“You’ve proved worth your feed, right enough,” Fanche agreed with a sly smile. “Might as well stick around a little longer.”

“I’ll need to think about it – I never thought about this possibility—”

“For once you haven’t pondered through every angle? Say it isn’t so,” teased Neal.

“Oh shut it, Neal. I promise you all I will seriously consider it. For now, think seriously about what you want your post-war lives to look like. You don’t have any obligation to stay here, you could return to your home fiefs, or somewhere new altogether. Your new hope doesn’t have to be at New Hope. Thank you.” Kel hopped down from the low wall, grinning at the cheers that went up amongst the refugees and soldiers alike. She strode in the direction of the outer wall, thinking hard as she went.

What did she want her new hope to look like?

[plainselfraisingflour]

I think that this was my original idea but it may not have been. If I owe you credit, let me know.

Alanna (SIR Alanna. I recently read a fanfic that called her 'Lady Alanna' and I didn't like the fact that the fanfic didn't end happily. I discounted it and something Totally Fake because they called her 'Lady Alanna' and that made me feel better) is at war against whoever and she finds out that Aly is missing, suspected to be in the Copper Isles.

She hears about the explosion of the harbour (I know I'm getting my timeline mixed up but that's okay, it's an unwritten fanfic) and Just Knows that Aly caused it.

I feel like this is where Aly is at her most Alanna-ish. She knows where the bad thing is, and she goes and kills it. Alanna trademarked.

Alanna disguises herself with her Gift (yes she is a Healer but its magic soooo yep) and travels to Rajmuat where she finds Aly.

Gets into a fight with Kyprioth. Gets the Goddess (what is her name?!) on Kyprioth's side => less bloodshed because Mithros can't fight them both.

The end. Much love everywhere abd the Lioness in the Kyprish Isles which she loves because it's so warm.

[end-fall]

 Session 35 started with Cael and Lucky heading to the hospital to check on Zevlor. On their way in Cael bumps into an unnaturally cold person leaving and decides to tail him.

 Mithros eventually leads Cynn to the Navarro estate where she overhears Half-Dan and her brother talking as the leave the estate before breaking in and discovering the whole thing was a money laundering front. She finds the necklace, steals all his stuff, plugs and turns onvthe sink, and peaces out.

Meanwhile Elton has letters to read and is told he has to sign off on the official end of the month long mourning period. He procastinates signing by holing himself up in a room and sorting the other letters.

 Cael follows the guy into an alleyway and gets jumped. She realizes this figure's true form is obscured by an illusion, he seems to be wearing stygian iron armor, and seems to be inhuman (probably a devil) with too many teeth and seemingly incapable of bleeding. Cael gets her ribs sawed by his oddly crystalline dark blade (very like Stieg's blade), but manages to steal it and make a break for it with Lucky's help and the session ends.

[nerdanelthefae]

Silly little doodle of my silly little ocs having fun and being in love (even if they still do not know it)

[mihrsuri]

“tempests and slaughter” trio + sex slave au

They have him take off his Tortallan robes and Numair only just manages not to cry - which he knows, he knows of all the things to take to heart it should not be clothes. But Mithros help him, they were symbols of so much - the new home he had built, the friends who were family and safety.

He had thought he was safe from Ozorne.

There is a bath house that he hardly remembers - does not want to remember, though the water is perfectly warm and a part of him wants to simply hide there forever but he knows he cannot. If he is to buy peace, to buy safety for those he loves he has to go through with this.

Has to hope that somehow, bizarrely, his body in the Emperors bed is worth enough to Ozorne that he will keep to his promise.

They drape him in gold jewels and chains and Numair feels sick and hopes he has hidden it. There are chains with jewels wound through his hair, across his body and cuffs around his wrists and ankles.

What he expects, when he’s left to kneel in Ozornes rooms he isn’t sure - he’s never going to say that he knows Ozorne, not anymore. In truth, he doesn’t want to think on it.

Ozone pulls his hair back, looks at him and for a moment Numair thinks he’s going to backhand him across the face or perhaps, perhaps he’s going to end this farce and kill him but instead, instead, Ozorne leans down to kiss him gently, as though it is a thousand years ago and they are both students again.

[idreamtiflew]

Ya'll. My favorite fanfic ever seems to be gone. I read that Archive of Our Own was being cyber attacked or something, and that some works did not make it. Lisafer on AO3 and Fief Goldenlake wrote a phenomenal fic about a romance between Sir Myles of Olau and Wyldon Cavall whilst he is at the castle training to become a knight. It is called "Paragons of Knightley Virtue." It. Is. So. Good. And it's gooone!! I hope to someday find it again, because Great Mithros, it is so fire.

[dionysia-does-stories]

The Midwinter Player

Cringetober2023, Day 2: Self-Insert

On AO3

Rating G - 1,282 words - Tortall - Keladry of Mindelan

Summary: Kel reluctantly decides to accept a walk-on roll in Corus's Midwinter Plays

Story:

A massive sunbird flew past Kel. It’s wings were made of fine gossamer fabric dyed in fiery shades of red and gold. When she fell back into a fighting stance at its closeness, the puppeteer made a cawing noise.

Kel laughed and nodded her head to acknowledge the joke (especially since it was at her expense). The puppeteer carried on moving the great bird as though he were a living, flying thing.

Kel turned the opposite direction walking through the busy square. Players rehearsed their lines, committing the words to memory. Tumblers twisted their bodies into impossible shapes. Their costumes were sewn and textured to mimic rock. Kel remembered Lalasa mentioning that a friend of hers was sewing the costumes this year.

Kel walked past a player who was dressing up a live bull calf in a pair of fake horns. The calf was completely uncooperative with the proceedings and flicked them off. Kel caught one mid-air, handing it back to the beleaguered player.

Kel marched on. She had been told to report to the big tree at the back of the event space. She wished she was reporting for duty at a fort. There all she’d be asked to do is bash in heads and come up with military strategies. But no, she was in Corus for Midwinter and she had been asked to appear in the annual Midwinter plays. 

She would have refused immediately, but both the King and the First Daughter of the Goddess’s temple had asked her to at least consider it. She still wanted to refuse but a valid (although extortive) point had been made about how happy all the little girls in Corus would be to see her. She was trying to have an open mind.

Kel had been told the playwright would meet her at the tree, but she hadn’t expected the woman to be sprawled out on the ground. She was surrounded by individual stacks of paper. Each stack had a rock on it, presumably to guard against the wind. There were quills stuck straight into the earth beside ink wells that had clearly spilled some of their contents onto the dirt.

The woman stared off away from the chaos of the rehearsal square and into the distance of the city. Her eyes were unfocused but still sharp. As soon as Kel’s footsteps were in hearing range, the woman whipped around.

“You have good hearing,” Kel called, trying to be friendly.

The woman quirked half her lips up in a sardonic expression. “For every sound except words which is all in all a not the most useful ability.”

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone here,” Kel said. “A playwright named Diot?”

The woman was shoving her stacks of paper and quills into a plain leather bag that looked large enough to hold a small library.

“That’s me!” Diot’s tone was too enthusiastic for the banality of her words. Kel saw her wince. It was the same wince Neal made when he regretted what he’d just said. 

“I got here very early and sat down to do some work,” Diot explained. “If I don’t put a lot of effort into being early than I’m always late. And I’m a huge admirer of yours. And I didn’t want to be late. Because I figured you would be on time what with the military training and all.” The woman fell abruptly silent.

Kel blinked. “I can appreciate using your time wisely. I’m sure you have a lot to get done at this time of year.”

“I do, thanks,” She gestured to the Mithran temple. “I asked the priests if we could use one of the rooms in the temple to talk.”

Diot led the way down a narrow path to the back part of the building. She brought them to a little room, set up with a table and chairs. Diot had already been lingering here before she moved to the tree. The evidence was obvious in the stacks of paper on the floor and heavy cloak draped on the back of one of the chairs.

“So, this year our play cycle will be the birth of Mithros.” She clapped her hands together at the declaration, again followed by that regretful wince. She gestured for Kel to sit and plonked down in the other chair herself.

“The King mentioned that. He didn’t specify what exactly it was that I was going to be doing?”

“Of course! Of course.” Diot reached into the giant bag and pulled out a book of Mithran stories. Several pages had the corners folded down and Kel could see writing in the margins. “Don’t tell the priests that I’ve done this,” Diot whispered, loudly.

“It’s your book,” Kel pointed out.

Diot flipped to a page, showing an illustration of Mithros at a table with the sun, a fire, the scales of law, and a war horn. “We’re looking to offer the roles as the personification of Mithros’s areas of power to notable individuals. War has already been taken by the lord sponsoring the cost of the plays. Which is what it is, even though I doubt he’s seen a war in his life. The Law will be represented by Duke Turomot, the magistrate.”

“I’m familiar with him,” Kel said.

Diot nodded. “With our current casting leaning somewhat toward a conservative direction. I was very hopeful you would be the Sun.”

Kel thought about the many piles of papers she had seen so far. “How many lines would I have?”

“I’ve written some beautiful lines for the Sun,” Diot rushed to grab a specific paper. Kel had no idea how she knew where it was among the many identical sheets. “I wrote an entire monologue that you can—“ Diot noticed the Yamani stone of Kel’s expression. “—You’re asking because you don’t want any lines.”

“Yes. I don’t have any destiny that includes being an accomplished player. I think it’s best to save the fiery speeches for someone else.”

“What about one line,” Diot negotiated. “So, the audience can hear you speak?”

Kel imagined the little girls in the audience and forced herself to say, “Fine. That’ll be fine.”

“Great!” Diot exclaimed, this time without wincing. She was fired up and producing papers at an alarming rate. “I just have to change this one section, but I have an idea that I think will make it work.”

Diot began to scribble lost to the world. 

Kel rose from her chair. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Diot looked up, eyes widening in distress. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I really appreciate you coming.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have long before Midwinter.” Kel pointed out.

Some of the color drained from Diot’s face.  “No,” she said. “I really don’t”

Kel left. She wondered out through the main body of the temple. The priests nodded to her as they walked by, respectful greetings of “Protector,” coming from their hushed voices. Being a knight hand chosen by the Chamber of The Ordeal was a venerated title in the temple of Mithros.

She stopped at the Mithraeum, looking into the cave like structure. At the far wall, there was a statue of Mithros. He held his golden shield aloft, a victorious expression on his face.

“Are you happy now?” She asked it expecting no response.

The statue turned to face her and smiled.

A few weeks later, Kel walked the stage as the Sun to thundering approval, an experience that she remained uncertain about until the most popular guising costume that year proved to be the Sun. Little girls ran wild over the streets of Corus with painted faces and sunbeams coming out of their hair.

[goodgrammaritan]

Since Mithros got no votes, which deity should I have included in his place?

Still unable to include the entire pantheon...