#Northern Picture Library

[xmasitw]

Northern Picture Library

Snowscene

<3

2005

[moodriingz]

Into Your Room | L. Hughes

Summary | Luke breaks up with the reader and they're both miserable

Pairing | Luke Hughes x reader, Jack Hughes x platonic! reader, Ethan Edwards x platonic! reader

Warning | Breakups ? and maybe three curse words ? that's about it!

Author's Note | This is my first post! I'm so excited because I love this song and all I could think about for a couple of days was this scenario. Please send requests and what you think!

Masterlist

You and Luke started dating while he was at the University of Michigan. Sure, you knew when He went to play for the Devils long-distance would be difficult because of your classes and his practices and games but you wanted to try. So it came as a shock when Luke broke up with you halfway through the summer after his NHL Debut.

“Y/N I really think we need to take a breather,” said Luke while you were both watching the sunset on the beach of the lake house. 

“What?” You asked. It felt like your world came crashing down out of nowhere. You guys had barely been together a year. But you were inseparable at school and during the summers. 

“Yeah, I just need to focus on hockey right now and you have your classes. I just don’t think it’s going to work out,” Luke rambled.

“But I want to make it work. I told you that before you left for New Jersey,” 

“I don’t want to be held back because of some relationship,” Luke said and you stayed quiet. Your heart was shattering and he was stomping all over it.

“Ok, I’ll get all of my stuff and go back home. No point in wasting any time I guess,” You said with blurry eyes.

You packed up your bag and got ready to go. You saw Jack on the way out and gave him a hug goodbye.

“I don’t know what He’s thinking. I’m sure He’ll come around. It'll all work out,” Jack said into your hair even though it felt like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.

“It’s fine Jack, just take care of him for me,” you said and left the house and got in your car without looking back at one of your favorite places in the world. 

I will run after your moving car

And I will follow you

You're my northern star

Luke was miserable for the rest of the summer. He didn’t want to admit it but he was lost without you. He wished he stopped your car as you left. He regretted everything he said. He was just scared you would find someone better than him at school now that he wasn't there.

Luke told himself that once the season started he wouldn’t have time to think about how much he missed you. Boy was he wrong.

He stalked your Instagram in his free time. He was sure he was almost always the first viewer of any story you posted and had to force himself to ignore your profile picture anytime it came up when he opened the app.

You looked like you hadn’t missed a beat once you got back to school. Always posting when you’d go out with friends or when you’d study at your favorite coffee shop.

You both had so many great memories there anytime you’d post your coffee order he could basically hear the espresso machines and the smell of coffee. He'd remember your laughter from when he had gotten foam on his top lip. Or the time you were so nervous for finals and wouldn’t look up from your computer until he got you a refill of your coffee. Your smile was so bright from such a small gesture he knew he had to do anything he could to see it.

Except he did the opposite. His last memory of you was full of tears as he watched your car pull away. He didn’t know what to do. Luke was a mess while you seemed fine. How could he ever convince you to take him back?

You don't know how much I need you

Yeah, I feel the weight

It's crushing me

You were a mess coming back to school. You missed Luke more than you thought you would. The two of you spent so much time together and when you couldn’t be with each other you would text every chance you’d get.

You missed his goofy smile and curly hair. Luke Hughes was everywhere. The memory of him was in the Library where you would have study dates, He was in your favorite bar where he couldn’t take his eyes off of you all night, He was in your classes where you would sit together and whisper random things back and forth. He was everywhere except where you needed him to be. With you.

Your friends always dragged you out even when all you wanted to do was stay in and watch your favorite TV show and wallow. They always made sure to take good photos so you could post “to make Luke know what he’s missing” they’d always say. 

They basically had a schedule set of when to study with you or get coffee. You didn’t mean to make them watch over you as much as you did, but you couldn’t help how much you needed Luke. 

Finally one night You convinced them that you were too busy with homework to hang out when really you were going to watch the New Jersey Devils season opener. Ethan Edwards saw right through your lies about studying because he knew you liked to finish most of your work at the beginning of the week.

He insisted on watching the game with you and you let him because he was the only one who remotely knew what you were feeling. You both watched pregame, and when the commentators showed Luke all you could notice were his eyebags and how tired he looked. Your heart shattered all over again.

You watched him get his first assist of the season and your heart clenched. If you were still together he would’ve called you after the game and told you all about it. Now you just felt like a spectator while he was all you could think about. Ethan turned to you and noticed how upset you were with tears threatening to spill over. He was tired of seeing his friends destroy themselves.

So, maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

No, I can't do without you

Jack couldn’t take Luke’s self-pity anymore. All he would do was look at his phone and play hockey. Jack could tell it was affecting Luke more than he was letting on. His eyes were almost always bloodshot and he looked like he was moving through the motions at practice. 

Luke was a shell of his former self and Jack knew he had to do something. He texted Ethan because he knew that besides Luke that’s who you would talk to the most. They both started plotting to get you back together. The Devils had a game against the Red Wings right before Thanksgiving and knew there had to be some way to get you there.

Ethan practically begged on his knees for you to come to the game. He told you he was gifted the tickets and would feel horrible to not go. Everyone else had already left for Thanksgiving, leaving you as his only option.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the game was against the Devils. You had the date marked in your planner as when you would have seen Luke if you were still together. You both looked forward to the game because it was the first time you would’ve seen him play in the NHL and then you would've gone to his parent’s lake house for Thanksgiving the next day. At least that's what was supposed to happen. 

You only agreed to Ethan because you felt bad no one else could go. Ethan promised no funny business, and you could leave the game the second the final buzzer went off. It felt safe and you could see Jack. You missed Luke, but you were also close with Jack. It was something Luke loved about you, how great you got along with his brothers. 

Luke had no idea about the plan Jack and Ethan were brewing. He was especially miserable because he knew if he didn’t mess up the best thing in his life several months ago, you would be at the game cheering him on. He was in hell beating himself over it. All he wanted was to see you in the Jersey he gave you right before his NHL debut. 

Ethan came and picked you up all giddy when he noticed you were wearing a Hughes 43 jersey.

“What? It’s the only Devils gear I have, and I’m sure as hell not going to cheer for them in a Red Wings jersey,” You said without taking a breath.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything.”

You two find your seats and you realize how close to the ice it is. You’re on the Devils side facing the bench a couple rows up from the ice. Luke is definitely going to see you because of your proximity.

“If you had told me how close we were going to be I definitely would’ve worn-” You said before getting cut off.

“Don’t even finish that sentence we’re rooting for my team tonight,” Ethan said talking over the music.

The Devils start coming out for warm up and it doesn’t take Luke more than two seconds to see you. You both lock eyes and don’t look away. He notices you’re in the jersey he gave you, and his heart flutters with hope. He just stands there looking at you until Nico pushes him to tell him has to get ready for the game. You, however, look like a deer in headlights and your heart stops. You hadn’t seen Luke since the summer. Tears start to gather in your eyes and you know you have to leave.

“Ethan I can’t do this. I can’t be here,” You say with tears starting to fall.

“Please you promised me plus he can’t even do anything he’s on the ice,” Ethan says trying to convince you knowing it won’t work.

You start to gather your things when Luke notices. He rushes across the ice and knocks on the glass to get your attention. You instantly regret looking his way, but his eyes look desperate and excited your heart flutters the tiniest bit. 

You read his mouth as he begs you to stay. You just look at him and Ethan debating what to do. You decide to stay and see what happens. Ethan's right he can’t do anything while he’s on the ice, right?

I'm throwing stones at your window

To get you to notice me

Don't make me stand outside, in the pouring rain

With a freshly ripped human heart from my rib cage

And a boom-box

How pathetic, babe

It was a hard loss for the Devils, but the end of the game meant you could finally leave. Ethan was right, Luke didn’t bother you for the rest of the game besides constantly looking at you when he wasn’t on the ice or there was a faceoff right in front of your seats.

As you and Ethan are getting ready to leave you get a text.

From moosey

please don’t leave

i really want to talk

You showed Ethan and he looked at you bewildered.

“You never changed his name?”

“I never had the heart,” You say looking back down at the texts. The three bubbles show up and disappear over and over again.

“I think you should go. What's the worst that could happen, right?” Ethan asks. 

“I don’t know he can rip my heart out all over again and tell me off for coming to his game,” You say, swaying on your toes to your heels.

“He won’t do that trust me,” You don’t even have the energy to ask Ethan as your anxiousness bubbles up to your throat.

To moosey

where can we meet?

From moosey

come down to the locker room i can tell security you and ethan are coming

To moosey

ok 

Luke has to stop himself from running to you when you get to the locker room. He wants to pick you up and spin you around like he used to do after his Michigan games. Instead, he walks up to you and says a simple hi.

“What did you want to talk about?” You whisper nervous about what he has to say.

“Us.” Your breath stops ready for him to tell you off for coming.

“I fucked up ending our relationship,” He says with his eyes turning red.

“Luke, why now? I was ready to fight for us but you dismissed me like I was nothing to you.” 

“Because I was scared,” He admits. “I was scared you’d find someone who’d be able to give you more attention than I could. And that’s what you deserve, but God I can’t be without you. You’re the opposite of nothing, you’re my everything and I’m so lost without you. The last couple of months have been absolute hell.”

“You should’ve talked to me. I would’ve told you there’s no one better for me than you. The last couple of months have wrecked me.” You tell him.

So, don't turn away

You must know how much I need you, need you

Yeah, I can feel your pain

I hate to think how bad I treated you

But I know a place

Where the darkness can't reach us

“Please forgive me. Please can we just forget this all happened?” Luke begs you.

You just nod and launch yourself into his arms for a kiss. He deepens it by holding you in by your hair. Your heart flutters and you never want this moment to end.

“Would it be too much to ask you to spend Thanksgiving with us? I just don’t want to spend any more time away from you. But I get it-,” Luke asks nervously before you cut him off.

“No I’d love to come, I miss everybody.”

“Did I miss it? Did our plan work?” Jack comes into the hallway shouting excitedly.

“What plan?” Luke asks Ethan and Jack.

“You didn’t,” You say.

“Oh but we did, who do you think gave me the tickets?” said Ethan mischievously.

“Well I guess your plan did work, good job boys,” you say with a blush on your cheeks.

Luke kisses your cheek and tells Jack you are spending Thanksgiving with the family and you won't be going anywhere anytime soon. You finally feel like you’re back where you belong. While Luke feels the relief of finally having his world back. 

No, I can't do without you, baby

Maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

You— And again

[httpvomitello]

HOTD: Male Stark Reader meeting, courting, marrying, raising the kids, ruling, and growing old with Rhaenyra. No Dance. I need some domestic happy fluff about how the two go from two strangers who are marrying each other out of duty to a Queen and King consort who have a family and have grown to love one another.

Hello, hope you like it!

Ice And Fire *⁠.⁠✧

rhaenyra targaryen x m!stark reader

WARNING: AU, happy ending, no Dance Of The Dragons

Rhaenyra Targaryen stood at the edge of the Red Keep’s gardens, her silver hair catching the light of the setting sun. She looked like a painting—untouchable, beautiful, and distant. That was your soon-to-be wife. A princess who didn’t seem too thrilled about this arranged marriage. To be fair, neither were you.

But duty was duty.

You adjusted the heavy Stark furs draped over your shoulders and took a deep breath before approaching her. The soft crunch of your boots on the gravel drew her attention. Her violet eyes flicked to you, then away just as quickly, like she wasn’t all that interested in who you were.

"Princess Rhaenyra," you greeted, bowing slightly.

She nodded, her face a picture of politeness, but you could see the tension in her shoulders. "Lord Stark."

"Not a lord for much longer," you joked lightly, without thinking about the words that came out of your mouth due to nervousness. “I hear I’ll be King Consort by the end of the week.”

Her lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smile, but she held it back. “So it seems.”

Awkward silence stretched between you. This was going to be a disaster, wasn’t it? Two strangers shoved together for the sake of alliances. You could feel the cold bite of Northern winters even here in the warmth of King’s Landing.

"I hear the North is… cold," she said, breaking the silence.

You couldn’t help but laugh. "That’s one way to put it. But it’s also beautiful. Vast, untamed. You’d like it, I think."

Her brow raised. "You think so?"

You shrugged. "You strike me as someone who doesn’t like being confined."

That earned a real smile—a small one, but a smile nonetheless. Maybe this wasn’t a lost cause after all.

Courting

Married life started… awkwardly. The wedding had been a grand affair, with feasts and dancing and the kind of fanfare that made you feel out of place. You weren’t used to so much attention. The North didn’t do lavish, but the Targaryens? They thrived on it.

Rhaenyra was polite but distant. She fulfilled her duties—dinners together, public appearances—but behind closed doors, she was guarded. You couldn’t blame her. This wasn’t her choice either.

So, you decided to make the effort. Small gestures at first. Bringing her a book you noticed her eyeing in the library. Walking with her through the gardens. Listening when she spoke about the things she loved—the skies, flying on Syrax, the history of Old Valyria.

One evening, as you both sat by the fire, you handed her a small box.

"What’s this?" she asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Open it."

Inside was a necklace—a delicate silver chain with a small wolf pendant. "I had it made for you. A piece of the North to keep with you."

Her fingers brushed over the pendant, her expression softening. "It’s… lovely. Thank you."

For the first time, the walls between you started to crack.

Falling in Love

It happened slowly. Shared smiles during council meetings. Quiet conversations late at night. The way she started leaning into your touch instead of pulling away.

You found her one evening in the nursery, holding your firstborn son, Jacaerys. The sight stopped you in your tracks—Rhaenyra, her hair falling loose around her shoulders, humming softly as the baby gurgled in her arms.

"You’ll spoil him," you teased, stepping into the room.

She looked up, her smile lighting up the dim space. "He deserves a little spoiling."

You moved to stand beside her, your hand brushing hers as you looked down at your son. "You’re a natural at this."

"At what?"

"Being a mother."

Her cheeks flushed, and she leaned her head against your shoulder. "To be honest, I never imagined myself being a mother."

Moments like that became more frequent. You started to feel less like strangers and more like a team.

Building a Family

By the time your fourth and fifth child was born, twins: Viserys II and Visenya, the castle was filled with laughter. Rhaenyra ruled with grace and strength, and you supported her every step of the way. When court politics became too much, you’d whisk her away to the for a moment of peace.

Your children grew up in a home filled with love. You made sure of it. Whether it was teaching your sons to wield a sword or letting your daughter braid your hair, you were present in their lives.

Rhaenyra often teased you for being soft with the children, but you’d catch her sneaking them sweets or reading them bedtime stories long after they should’ve been asleep.

Growing Old Together

Years passed, and the love between you only deepened. You weren’t just a King Consort and a Queen; you were partners, friends, lovers.

You stood together on the balcony one evening, watching as your grandchildren played in the courtyard below. The years had added silver to your hair and lines to your faces, but none of that mattered.

"Do you regret it?" Rhaenyra asked softly.

You turned to her, surprised. "Regret what?"

"This life. Marrying me. Leaving the North."

You cupped her face in your hands, your thumb brushing over her cheek. "Never. You’re my home, Rhaenyra. You always have been."

Tears glistened in her eyes, and she leaned into your touch. "I love you."

"I love you too."

And as the sun set over King’s Landing, you knew you wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

[0liver-hope]

if you love books, save a library!

I hear people on Tumblr talk a lot about the importance of libraries; now’s your chance to help save one!

At Vermont State University is a newly merging Uni in so-called North America, pushing together three previously separate universities: Castleton University, Northern Vermont University, and Vermont Technical College.

Just last week, the new VTSU administration sent out an email to faculty, staff and students announcing that all the libraries at each of the 5 campuses contained within these universities would be moving to an ‘all-digital’ model. Librarians will lose their jobs if this plan goes ahead; in fact, librarians were only informed of this change 11 minutes before the email was sent out.

We have come to understand that this means that all physical material will be removed from the library. They seem to want to do other things with the space, such as set up ‘a coffee or smoothie bar’ and determine ‘what students want’ to do with the space. This plan would go into effect on July 1st, 2023.

The fact is, students want to keep the library as it is. Quiet, and full of stacks and stacks of physical books. The administration cannot claim they are listening to students when we have demonstrated, via hundreds of emails and impassioned testimonies in front of the administration at a forum last week, that we hate this plan and oppose it vehemently. And the faculty and staff are with us, and they too have been speaking out. Not only that, the communities that surround these colleges greatly value having access to a research library, particularly in rural Vermont, and are opposing the plan as well, because, as far as I know, they will completely lose access to these resources if everything goes digital.

The image of the books above are what I just checked out today. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed browsing the stacks, in one case (not pictured above) finding a tiny book of Milton’s poetry inscribed with a reader’s name and the year 1865. So many important and precious books like that one are to be found in our library. Each book I checked out hasn’t been checked out for at least 10 years, and that’s one of the administration’s excuses for taking all our books away: that circulation is down, and that, somehow, it costs money to let books sit on a shelf. As many people have rebutted, though, just because books aren’t being checked out doesn’t mean they aren’t being read within the library and, most importantly, it doesn’t mean that they don’t have value.

Below I will post some links to various local news article on this subject as well as one radio broadcast that will probably be able to articulate this situation better than I can.

I’m just so angry and upset about this. I’ve seen students and faculty alike crying about this situation, and an old lady braver than me telling the administration that maybe they should consider lowering their own salaries before taking away our books. I think everyone here feels powerless, because the administration isn’t backing down, despite all our protests, because ultimately their goal is profit and to make sure that this new ‘equitable’ University makes as much money as possible.

At the Castleton forum, the president of the University said he was ‘deeply humiliated’, by the outrage, by the heckling, the ‘throwing of verbal tomatoes’ as I have taken to calling it, by having his and his fellow’s bullshit exposed and questioned.

Please, please, if you care about books, about libraries, about the problems with big tech and the way it continues to invade all our lives, replacing physical experiences with their more hollow, less engaging counterparts; if you care about the interests of the people triumphing over the interests of capital, about students, about education, then please -- help save our books by spreading the word however and wherever you can, by flooding the inboxes of the capitalists below; tell them how you feel about this decision and its larger implications for books and libraries in general! Not so much to convince them that they’re wrong (they already know that and don’t care), but to make going forward with this plan more of a nuisance and a PR nightmare than cancelling it would be.

I don’t know if anyone will read or see this post, but please if you do and you care, reblog, educate yourself on what’s going on, and take action if you can.

A few disclaimers:

Any specifics I mention pertain primarily to what I, as a student at Castleton University, have either heard via word of mouth or seen with my own eyes. I am not officially speaking on behalf of anyone but myself.

The only exception to all the physical materials being removed from the libraries seem to be the books deemed ‘most used’ and some valuable historical collections. This was not clear from the beginning and not yet fully clear in any further specificity.

please try not to use violent rhetoric - as much as I’m not into policing people’s speech and anger, I don’t want this to backfire and I don’t want them to crackdown harder on us or make a big stink about it if they receive those kinds of messages

Email addresses of administration officials responsible for this decision:

VTSU President Grewal: parwinder.grewal@vermontstate.edu

VTSU Provost Atkins: nolan.atkins@northernvermont.edu

VSC Chancellor Zdatny sophie.zdatny@vsc.edu

VSC Board of Trustees Chair: Eileen “Lynn” Dickinson eileen.dickinson@vsc.edu

News articles + broadcast:

https://www.vermontpublic.org/show/vermont-edition/2023-02-10/vermont-state-university-president-on-move-to-all-digital-libraries-changes-in-athletic-programs

https://www.rutlandherald.com/news/local/castleton-community-protests-vtsu-library-cuts/article_100d9539-c6ca-569e-a9b9-ecd6b3cef0ad.html

https://vtdigger.org/2023/02/08/vermont-state-university-to-close-libraries-downgrade-sports-programs/

http://www.castletonspartan.com/2023/02/12/vtsu-library-plan-sparks-outrage-and-emotion/

[detroitlib]

View of the Elk Rapids Cinema in Elk Rapids, Michigan. Marquee reads: "Elk Rapids Cinema, world's largest blacklight mural." Printed on back: "Spacious, comfortable seating, perfect sound and picture projection of worth while pictures from all over the world. Plus the world's largest blacklight ceiling mural assure you a delightful experience in movie going. No vacation in Northern Michigan is complete with a visit to the Elk Rapids Cinema. Color by Rogers. Dist. by the Camera Chop, Traverse City, Mich. Dexter Press, Inc. West Nyack, New York."

Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library

[writingquestionsanswered]

I’ve been reading some craft books and online posts about the world building because my story is an urban fantasy set in present day US, in a fictional town, and theres not a secondary world where the fantasy happens, it’s all in the real world, except the magic is a secret that only certain people know about, but all of the resources I find about world building only talk about fantastical worlds that exist by themselves and not the kind of more subtle world building that I’d have to do. Do you have any tips?

Guide: Creating a Fictional Town in the Real World

Step 1 - Choose Your Location - There are two ways to go about choosing a location for your fictional town. One is to go the "Springfield U.S.A." route, ala The Simpsons, and be vague about the specific location (borough, parish, district, county, region, state, or province) and instead give a broader geographic region... "the East Coast," "the Pacific Northwest," "Central Canada," Northern Scotland," etc. The other option is to go ahead and put your fictional town in a specific location. Just figure out where (for example, somewhere outside of Des Moines, Iowa) and go to Google Maps, click on satellite view, then start zooming in on big empty areas. Choose a place big enough to fit a town. Yes, in reality it's probably farm fields, pasture, or someone's property, but that doesn't matter. You don't have to actually show it on a map. It's just a plausible spot to build your town. Now you can measure how far it is to other places, you know what highways to take to get to it. You can even do street view to get the lay of the land, see what the landscape looks like and try to envision the buildings there. You can also use what's there to create parks, popular recreational areas, and anything else your town needs.

Step 2 - Choose Your Inspiration - Even when you're creating a fictional town, it's still a good idea to use a real town (or two, or three) from that general area as inspiration for your town. For a fictional town in Des Moines, I would zoom in on the map to find a nearby town of similar size... like Elkhart, then I can take a look around to see what it's like. Just looking at the map, I can see they have a couple of churches, a couple baseball fields, a very small main street/downtown area with a couple shops and restaurants, a post office, a few different neighborhoods, and a cemetery. This would be a great model for a small fictional town outside of Des Moines. And, as I said, you could look at a couple other sand combine them. Once you have your inspiration town/s, you can walk around on Google Maps street view, go to the town's web site, watch a tour on YouTube (if one exists), or look up pictures in Google Image search.

Step 3 - Start Planning - This is the really fun part! First, you might want to draw a basic map of your fictional town using your inspiration town/s as a guide. This doesn't have to be a pretty map... just a basic line drawing to help you envision where everything is. Think about some of the basic things this town might have, like the ones I listed in step two, and any other things you might want your town to have, like maybe a library, a hospital, a city hall, school, and maybe a movie theater. It might even be helpful and fun to put together a collage of pictures to represent your town so you've got something in mind as you write about it. You can even choose representatives for specific locations in your story, like your MC's house, school, and their favorite hangout.

Step 4 - Naming Your Town - Start by looking at the kinds of town names that surround your town. Look for common naming conventions... suffixes like -ton, -ville, -dale, -burg, -wood, -field, etc. Words in a particular language, like a lot of French-inspired town names, or towns with geographical terms (lake, hill, valley, river, canyon, gap, etc.) My guide to Naming Locations has additional tips.

Step 5 - Populate Your Town and Give it a History - Last but not least, make up a little history for your town, again, using surrounding towns as inspiration. Who founded it? When was it founded? What's the town's main industry? What are the people like in this town? What jobs do they have? What do they do for fun?

Here are some other posts that might help:

Five Things to Help You Describe Fictional Locations Setting Your Story in an Unfamiliar Place WQA’s Guide to Internet Research Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[salixsociety]

Germanic Paganism Resource Masterlist

Notes: - Updates will be beyond infrequent. - Feel free to pop into my ask box requesting resource recommendations at any moment. - Resources do not reflect my personal beliefs or practice. I may include otherwise great resources that include theories and ideologies I do not support (such as the 'sign of the Hammer'), because I make extensive use of cross-referencing, reflection, etc to determine everything I incorporate into my craft. - I will never consciously add resources written by (Neo-)Nazis and the like. If you spot them, feel free to let me know. - You may notice there is a seemingly disproportionate amount of sources also or primarily talking about Scandinavia and Iceland, and even some primarily covering England. This is because continental Germanic paganism has only barely survived the ravages of time, and one can only learn about it if they supplement their knowledge with the more complete pictures of Anglo-Saxon paganism and Norse paganism.

Legend: [No language identifier means the source is English.] [D] - The resource is written (primarily) in Dutch. [G] - The resource is written (primarily) in German. [ON] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old Norse. [OD] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old Dutch. [OG] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old High German. [L] - The resource is written (primarily) in Latin. [F] - The resource is written (primarily) in French. * - I have not read the resource in its entirety. ** - Read with caution. !! - There is more of the resource available/this is one part of multiple.

Historic Texts and References

Tacitus' Agricola and Germania

Tacitus' Annals

The Prose Edda

The Poetic Edda

The First Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Contemporary Books, Essays, Other Media

Myths and symbols in pagan Europe : early Scandinavian and Celtic religions - H.R. Ellis Davidson

Kleinere Altniederdeutsche Denkmälen - Heyne [G]*

Religion and Philosophy in Germany : a Fragment - Heine *

Deutsche Volkskunde - Adolf Bach [G]*

Teutonic Mythology - Grimm

Swedish Legends and Folk Tales - John Lindow

Scandinavian Mythology : an Annotated Bibliography - John Lindow *

Trolls : an Unnatural History - John Lindow

Myths of the Norsemen from the Eddas and Sagas - H.A. Guerber

Northern mythology : comprising the principal popular traditions and superstitions of Scandinavia, North Germany, and The Netherlands - Benjamin Thorpe | VOL 1, VOL 2, VOL 3

From Myth to Fiction : the Saga of Hadingus - Georges Dumézil *

The Stakes of the Warrior - Georges Dumézil **

Gods of the Ancient Norsemen - Georges Dumézil **

Zum Tamfana-Rätsel - Edmund Weber [G]*

De Tijdstippen van de Cultische Jaarfeesten - Boppo Grimmsma [D]**

Nederlansche Volksoverleveringen en Godenleer - Van den Bergh [D, OD]*

Tales and Legends of Tyrol *

Germanic Spirituality - Bil Linzie

Handwörterbuch des Deutschen Auberglaubens - Baechtold-Staubl, Hoffman-Krayer

Goden van de Lage Landen - Gunivortus Goos [D]**

Runic and Heroic Poems of the Old Teutonic Peoples - Dickins *

Gods and Myths of Northern Europe - H.R. Ellis Davidson

Old Norse - Icelandic Literature : a Critical Guide - John Lindow

Vikings : a Very Short Introduction - Richards *

Norse Mythology : a Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals and Beliefs - John Lindow

Antwoord op de Vraag, door het Zeeuwse Genootschap de Wetenschappen - te Water [D]*

Verhandelingen over het Westland, ter opheldering der Loo-en, Woerden en Hoven, benevens de natuurdienst der Batavieren en Friezen - Buddingh [D]*

De Goden der Germanen - de Vries [D]*

Norse Revival: Transformations of Germanic Neopaganism - Stefanie von Schnurbein (in the series Studies in Critical Research on Religion which I highly recommend)

Digital Libraries, Dictionaries and the Like

Digitale Bibliotheek voor Nederlandse Letteren [D]*

Digitised Collection of Historic Sources of the WWU in Münster [G, D, OD, OG]*

Oudnederlands Woordenboek [D, OD]*

Ons volksleven : tijdschrift voor taal-, volks- en oudheidkunde. Jaargang 2-12 [D]*

Het Rad - Digitale Bibliotheek voor Germaans Heidendom, Runen, Seidr [D]*

Volkskunde (search results on Delpher) [D]*

Goden van Eigen Bodem - Digitale bibliotheek voor heidens erfgoed van de lage landen [D]*

Godinnen van Nederland en België [D]**!!

Forgotten Gods - Reginheim **

The Rune Poems *

Kronieken van de Westhoek (Flemish Folk History) [D]*

Brabantse Folklore, bulletin van de provinciale dienst voor geschiedkundige en folkloristische opzoekingen [D]*

Project Gutenberg has a wealth of resources about pre-christian Germanic religion*

Mimisbrunnr.info has a wealth of information including starter guides.

Author Recommendations

J.R.W. Sinninghe [D]

John Lindow

Benjamin Thorpe

H.R. Ellis Davidson

The Grimm Brothers

J. Haver [D]

To be continued.

[the-badger-mole]

In the debate between pro-aang-kill-ozai and anti-aang-kill-ozai. Which side are you on and why? If it's the anti then did you like how it was done or do you picture something else?

I think I've mentioned before, but I am not inherently against Aang not wanting to kill Ozai. Some of my favorite heroes have a no-kill policy. I don't even mind the lionturtle solution itself. What I didn't like was how it was handled. There was plenty of time to address Aang's reluctance to kill before the second to last episode. I can think of three points in particular where it would've been thematically appropriate and given Aang's bland, two-dimensional character some depth.

First, right after the siege at the Northern Tribe. Aang may not have technically been the one who killed all those Fire Nation soldiers, but it couldn't have happened without him. You would think that someone who is both committed to pacifism and also the one the entire world is relying on to end a war that people have been fighting and dying in for a century wouldn't just be able to shrug off what happened. Aang did, though. Didn't even cross his mind when he was whining about people expecting him to kill Ozai.

What should have happened was the next season should've opened with Aang grappling with what happened and his part in it. He should feel guilty about it, not because he was actually wrong, but because it should feel wrong to him. Then, Katara and Sokka should comfort him and tell him he did nothing wrong. Build it up that their word are comforting him a little, then drop the bomb when they start talking about how cool it was. How amazing it was to see all those soldiers running in fear for once. How relieved they are that so many of them died. Then have Aang snap on them about the sanctity of life. He needs to be angry and hurt, and this should be the point where he decries the powers of the Avatar. He'd call himself a monster, and maybe he would call Katara and Sokka monsters, too. Then they (probably mostly Sokka) would argue with him that they aren't monsters, they're just trying to survive, and the Fire Nation is a threat to be taken out. This would be the first time it's brought up that Katara, Sokka...the entire world expect Aang to kill Ozai. I think it would be perfect as a season 2 opener. Season 1 was light and goofy, and Zuko was their biggest immediate threat. The siege raised the stakes, and season 2 should continue on that rising. Aang should also have started looking for another solution here. In the library, Aang should've asked Wan Shi Tong if it was possible to end the war without more violence. We should've seen Aang coming to terms with the fact that the world is suffering and he is the one they are looking to to save them. One thing I think the Harry Potter movies in particular did well was that shift from goofy and whimsical to darker and more frightening (as far as kids movies go) as the story went on and the stakes got higher, and the danger felt more real to the characters. Aang never gets that realization. He has moments when the danger feels real, but he's goofy and whimsical for pretty much the entire series until the plot of an episode needs him not to be.

The second place they should have brought up his reluctance to kill was DoBS. This really should've been a no brainer. Aang was loosing sleep over facing Ozai. He had his anxiety about losing- though not really what losing would mean for his friends and the world- but he didn't even consider what winning would take. If DoBS had been successful, there's no way Ozai would've been able to be taken alive. Logistically, killing him would've been the easiest, safest option. You mean to tell me no one brought it up? No one asked Aang how he was planning to take Ozai out? No, instead we get Aang proving he knows what enthusiastic consent looks like and taking away his excuse for what happened later, but nothing about Aang weighing his personal beliefs against the needs of the world. That training montage and confrontation that he has with his friends in the second to last episode should've happened here. This should've been when his tendency to run away should've been challenged, too, because half a season before he was crying about how he abandoned the world again. Now his instinct would be to run, but his friends would challenge him, calling back to that moment. They could demand that he present an alternative to killing Ozai. I don't think any of them would object to him living to stand trial, but Ozai is a rabid dog, essentially. He needs to be put down. Aang's got nothing, but not for lack of trying. When he tells his friends about all his efforts to find a non-lethal way to defeat Ozai, they are unmoved. They are at the doors of the Fire Nation, and now is not the time to be indecisive. He has to go face Ozai. And he's probably relieved when the plan fails. This whole situation would have the added bonus of skipping that first Kataang kiss because no way would Aang want to kiss Katara after her insisting he terminate Ozai with extreme prejudice.

The third place Aang's no-kill policy should've come up is TSR when Zuko asks him what he's planning to do when he faces Ozai if he's so against killing. This should scare Aang, and it should be his focus for the rest of the season. He should be more withdrawn from his friends, because with all the training he's doing (and he would still be training on all the elements because he's not that good at any of them), talks about the most efficient way to kill would be unavoidable. Katara might actually try to teach him bloodbending. Toph would just tell him that a big rock is just as effective as some fancy bending move. Zuko would be warning him about his father's ruthlessness and cunning. This would be where Aang looses his patience with his friends and insists that he's a pacifist and Ozai doesn't deserve to die. This would piss Katara in particular off because by this point, Aang knows what happened to her mother. He would get an earful about how Ozai's plan is to do to the Earth Kingdom what his grandfather did to the Air Nomads and how he's going to let millions of people die because of his refusal to kill one. Now, Aang can take off, only instead of just running away from his friends because he doesn't want to hear them anymore, he could be making one desperate last ditch attempt to find a solution that both ends the war and keeps him from having to kill Ozai. EIP could still happen in this circumstance, but instead of getting mad that he's being played by a girl, he would focus more on how eager for his death the Fire Nation is. That would come up in the argument about killing Ozai.

Now, for the lionturtle. I'm about to blow some minds. I have been vocal about my hatred of the Lionturtle/Rock of Destiny desu-ex-double team, and I do still hate it with a passion. However, as a concept, I don't mind the lionturtle. This is a fantasy adventure. You expect a bit of magical intervention. What I wanted was Aang grappling with this problem for more than half an episode. I wanted him working on a solution the entire time, starting from right after the siege. I wanted to see him take initiative. To actually think about the problem. Maybe have him specifically looking for the lionturtle. Then when it shows it, it could be because it knew Aang was looking and decided he was worthy of a meeting. Aang could still have his meeting with his past lives, and that could still go the way it did. Then the lionturtle could speak up. Instead of poo-pooing the idea of killing Ozai, it could agree that it was the most effective way to make sure that the war would end. Then, when Aang is despairing that he'd wasted all that time trying to find a different solution, the lionturtle could offer the spirit bending. But it would have to come at a cost, and it might not work the way that Aang hoped. Now Aang has to make a choice. Sacrifice something for this spiritbending ability (I'm thinking he loses his airbending, because it seems poetic) that might not have the outcome he's hoping for, or give up his pacifism- one of his few connections to his heritage- and kill Ozai. He chooses the spiritbending. Instead of the conveniently placed rock, Aang would actually have to give up his attachment Katara. I think he would be half-way there, having finally realized how little he understood her. He "loved" her because she was pretty and took care of him, but he's come to realize there's a lot more facets to her that he hasn't gotten to see because they don't fit his narrow view of her. He also understands what Guru Pathik was trying to tell him about one person not being able to replace everything Aang has lost, and he realizes how unfair to her he had been. He still loves her, but as a friend and caretaker. This will actually lead to a deeper friendship between them. Aang defeats Ozai without killing him, but now he has to deal with the loss of his airbending, which only now does he realize was a much of a connection between him and his people as his beliefs. He still has spiritbending. He can still airbend in the Avatar State, but he's effectively cut off a limb to keep his integrity. He will go the rest of his life wondering if it was worth it, especially after Ozai goes to trial and is sentenced to execution anyway. The effects of that on his children could be explored in LoK.

TL;DR I don't have a problem with Aang not wanting to kill Ozai. I just wanted to see him deal with it before the last minute. I think the show would've been better for it, and Aang would've been a more interesting character.

[leaderpinhead]

Lilia - Painted Double

Prompt: Ancient And, of course, the known fact that Lilia's pictured in at least one textbook.

Lilia hummed and tilted his head. “Is there something wrong, prefect?” 

Yuu squinted. Lilia smiled. She glanced at the open book in front of her. Her eyes narrowed even more. Lilia was convinced she was actually blinking in slow motion. “Lilia?” 

“That is my name, yes.” 

"Explain this to me.” 

Yuu turned the book around for him to see the page. Lilia blinked before dramatically gasping. “Oh, you poor dear! Has your amnesia progressed to forgetting what a book is?” 

Yuu lowered the book just to glower at him. “Don’t be coy with me. You know what I’m talking about.” 

“Ah! You’ve forgotten how to read.” Lilia held out his hand to accept the book. “It’s been a few years since I’ve read a bedtime story, so I may be a little rusty.” 

Yuu avoided Lilia’s grasping hands. “You and Jade have the same personalities: gremlin. I’m talking about the painting in the book.” 

Lilia hummed and pretended to look closer at the painting photocopied onto the page. He recognized the work of the painter: a young man who lived in the northern part of the Shaftlands. He had asked Lilia to pose for the painting because he had never seen a fae. Lilia had agreed, mainly because the young man had chased him down after spying Lilia from the window of his home. They had spent the afternoon together while the painter worked, and Lilia remembered it fondly even now since it was one of his first positive experiences with humans. He still had the original painting in his cottage, enchanted to prevent the paint from naturally fading from time and exposure. 

He was a bit surprised to see it pictured in the book Yuu held. The poor young man hadn’t even been given credit for his work, the caption under the picture reading Traveling Fae by Unknown. It wasn’t as detailed as the original, like the painter had replicated it from memory years later. The field he stared out into was covered in vibrant flowers where Lilia knew it had actually been covered by several inches of snow. His hair was shorter than it should be, and his traveling cape replaced by a simple farmer's jacket. His facial features were still strong and distinct though, which he surmised was how Yuu had identified him. 

Lilia was in a playful mood, so he embraced his “gremlin personality” to the absolute fullest. “What a handsome fellow! I wish they had credited the artist. I would have loved to find more work by them.” 

The long sigh Yuu emitted made Lilia grin ear-to-ear. Using one hand to mark the page, she flipped to the front of the book and pointed at the year of the publication. “This is the date the book was published.” 

“I’m always impressed by the level of care the campus library dedicates to their collection.” 

“It’s nearly seventy years old,” Yuu said. Her tone made it very clear he would not distract her. “And it has a painting of you pictured in it.” 

Lilia hummed and nodded. “Is it me? Or is it an extremely cute doppelgänger?” 

“That’s you.” Yuu flipped back to the page with the painting. She jabbed her finger at the painting. “He has your nose.” 

“A very cute gremlin nose.” 

“These are your ears.” 

“Some say Malleus has my ears. Does that make Malleus me too?” 

“You’re not gaslighting me, you deranged bat.” Yuu closed the book with a loud clap. She pointed at him with her narrowed-slow-blinking eyes. “I’m onto you. And I’m going to find more evidence.” 

“More evidence of my universal cuteness?” Lilia struck a playful pose, forming a heart with his hands. “I’d love to see an army of my lookalikes.” 

“I bet you would...” Yuu muttered. 

She tucked the book under her arm and left to the sound of Lilia’s snickers. Lilia shook his head and returned to the paper fortune teller he had been making before her arrival. If she had outright asked him, he would have told her his estimated age. 

She was having so much fun being a little sleuth though, and he didn’t want to spoil her fun. 

[thecharlestonroyalfamily]

So do you remember the royal consorts portraits going around royal simblr? Well inspired by @funkyllama, @warwickroyals, @thegrimalldis and @trentonsimblr I did my version of it but instead of it being just consorts this gallery also features some of Charleston's most notable rulers! Have a calming drink cause it's a long post!

King Henri & Queen Astrid [ruled from 1382 to 1401]. Founders and the first King and Queen of Charleston.

King Erik ‘the Bloodfist’ & Queen Sigrid [ruled from 1435 to 1448]. Successful war leaders who united the warring Northern Tribes and conquered parts of Nord and Rionnag. They were also both spellcasters.

Queen Sofia [ruled from 1448 to 1549]. The first female ruler of Charleston and also the youngest monarch to ever rule. Changed the succession law to equal. Had 3 husbands during her reign. Was a spellcaster like her parents. She also currently has the longest reign.

Queen Märtha [ruled from 1562 to 1576]. Second wife of King Fredrik. She was a Nordian princess that married Fredrik for political reasons, but the couple ended up actually falling in love. During her reign she convinced Fredrik to return taken territories back to Rionnag and Nord and established Nord as a minority language.

Queen Henrietta [ruled from 1662 to 1677]. First consort with a university education. Established laws for women's equality as well as criminalized marriages for anyone under the age of 15. She was also an excellent spymaster.

Queen Sylvia [ruled from 1732 to 1753]. A known patron of arts she helped funding the construction of Charleston's Opera House. Took over the crown after the death of her husband, King Gustav III and reigned until her death.

Queen Victoria I & Prince Consort Harald. [Ruled from 1834 to 1870]. Victoria I wrote several laws protecting children's rights into action, including work laws and the age of equal consent. Harald was one of the founding members of the Nordic Alliance and served as a representative there during it's first 3 years.

Queen Inga & Sir Arthur Johnson [Ruled from 1887 to 1935]. Queen Inga is the only ruler to have used a veto for their marriage. She took the crown after the death of her first husband King Gustav VI; who famously ordered the Spellcaster Purge. Sir Arthur was the last active duty royal knight, and an important character in stabilizing the nation after the purge and it's resulted conflicts.

King Carl-Gustav IV & Queen Arianne (pictured here as Crown Prince and Princess) [Ruled from 1935 to 1960]. First royal couple to have their wedding televised. Both were well known children's rights advocates and build multiple safe homes for kids around the world. Queen Arianne also founded the Children's Royal Library, a charity organization focusing on giving books to children and raising literacy rates.

King Daniel [Ruled from 1992 to 2004] & Queen Marissa [Ruled from 2004 to 2026]. During his rule Daniel added a third gender option to law and hosted multiple LGBT+ charity events. His wife Marissa continued his work after his passing and was a very vocal supporter of her grandson Henrik's relationship with Michael.

Queen Victoria II & Prince Consort Benjamin [Ruled from 2026 - 2036]. Victoria II abolished the law preventing heirs from marrying foreigners in 2034. She also was an accomplished military general and diplomat. Benjamin was a human rights advocate and an exceptional diplomat who's efforts in the field gained him several medals of recognition, the highest being the Nordic Union Cross of diplomacy.

King Henrik & Prince Consort Michael [Ruled from 2036 - ]. First same sex ruling couple. Henrik legalized spellcasters and set them protection laws. He's also the first spellcaster ruler since The Spellcaster Purge. Michael is a former competitive swimmer and nowadays a patron of Charleston's national swimming team. He served in the military during the Charleston-Salix war and earned the "Heart of Lion" -medal of courage for his actions.

[tk-duveraun]

20/? Luo Binghe is SO NORMAL about Shen Yuan

7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 (here), 21

Read up through even numbered parts on Ao3

We're quickly approaching the end!

The Snow Leopard chief agreed to Luo Binghe's terms, on the condition that he find them another home if Linguang-jun's territories were too cold. It was difficult for her to consider any place too cold, but the Mobei Clan were pure ice demons and neither party knew where Linguang-jun's land was.

She left him in the care of her nephew, one of the few men left in their population. He asked too many questions about the human realm for Luo Binghe to get much actual sleep, but the food and water were enough when combined with simply sitting.

Just when he was left alone, the System pinged with a notification.

[Answering User: Entity "Luo Baixiao" located. Reassignment pending.]

Luo Binghe slumped into a puddle on the pile of furs he'd been given to sleep on. On one hand, the whole everything with the System raised some serious questions about reincarnation, but on the other hand he was too busy planning on how to marry Shen Yuan to have an existential crisis.

"Can I do anything for him? He did give me my wife."

[Reminding User he is still single.]

"Can I help the kid or not?"

[Upon Completion of Main Scenario Campaign "Intricate Rituals with my Shixiongdi" rewards can be transferred to other entities.]

"Do it."

[This action is not reversible. Recommended action: review rewards.]

"Are you going to marry him to Shen Yuan if the transfer goes through?]

[System rewards do not involve manipulating free will decisions of entities enjoined with System.]

"Then I don't care. Queue the transfer for when I get this bread."

[Confirm action: YES/NO]

Luo Binghe jabbed "yes" and closed the window. He closed his eyes and breathed easily for the first time since seeing the vision of Luo Baixiao's doomed seduction attempt. Luo Binghe wasn't a good or nice person, but he paid his debts.

Once the migraine brought one from bonding with Xin Mo finally faded, Luo Binghe stood and left the hut. There was a sharp wind blowing air that smelt like the sea through the village. Few people were still out and those that were had their noses covered with thick masks.

Luo Binghe found the chief, gave her a firm nod and then went to the gully at the edge of the village. It was where the village drained their waste, but the salty wind neutralized some of the smell. More importantly, Luo Binghe was too polite to risk destroying a nice part of their village if he failed his first attempt to make a portal to the demon realm.

The Endless Abyss, according to Shen Yuan's lessons, was similar to a secret realm — a pocket dimension — anchored to the world: both the human and demon realms. Whereas the barrier between the human and demon realm had natural convergence points, the Abyss could only connect through violent rending. The opening he'd fallen through at the conference had been opened by the cries of the Black Moon Rhinoceros-Python.

He kept all of those concepts in the front of his mind as he held out Xin Mo. He raised it to the air before him and felt Meng Mo's presence appear in the back of his mind, watching.

At first, there was nothing, then he released his control on Xin Mo's corruption. As the sludge-like energy spread throughout his body, he felt the blade catch on the air. Luo Binghe closed his eyes and pictured the Northern desert in the demon realm as clearly as he could based on descriptions from both IRS and Qing Jing's library.

Xin Mo's harsh qi burned through his spiritual system, but inch by inch the sword sank into nothing and tore through the air. By the time the sword was level with Luo Binghe's hip, an answering icy wind was gusting through the portal, freezing the sweat on his skin.

The process was painful, laborious and took intense concentration. When it was over, Luo Binghe would wonder how the hell the Original Goods managed to get out with the awful thing, but in the moment it took everything he had to finish the job. When Xin Mo finally hit the rains of salt on the ground, Luo Binghe nearly fell to his knees.

Painfully, he peeled the frozen sweat off his brow and turned to start on his way back to the village. But it seemed he'd taken so long most of the village had gathered behind him, their belongings wrapped in fur and fabric, then strapped to their backs.

Though he was still panting with exertion, Luo Binghe grabbed the edge of the rift in space and pulled. It was like holding a live wire, but instead of stopping his heart the electricity just lit Xin Mo's corrupted qi ablaze. Luo Binghe felt like a seagull trapped in an oil spill that had caught on fire, but he didn't let go, just kept pulling until the Snow Leopard chief stepped through the portal and onto the snow.

From the other side, she clucked and called to her people. One by one, they took deep breaths and stepped through the jagged hole in space.

Luo Binghe loosened his grip on the tear and it remained open, so he fully snatched his hand back. He desperately wanted to protect himself from Xin Mo, but he didn't want to risk locking the sword away closing the portal. He could only grit bared teeth and imagine tearing each Snow Leopard as they walked past him with their entire life on their person.

By the time the last of the demons was through the portal, Luo Binghe had gouged deep rivets in his left hand. His right held Xin Mo in a death grip as he finally let himself step through the portal. When both feet touch the snow, he dropped Xin Mo and yelled like he was going Super Saiyan.

To his disgust, that was an extremely efficient way of constructing his qi defenses against Xin Mo. He sneered at nothing and let himself pass out.

[petermorwood]

YA or not YA, that is the question...

This started out as a response to Diane’s post here about YA literature and its long history prior to what some people think inspired it, but got longer (Oh! What a surprise!) and wandered far enough from the initial subject that I decided to post separately.

So here it is.

*****

Many years ago my town library (in Northern Ireland, so following UK library practice, I suppose) had just two sections, Adult and Children. There was no YA section, and the Children’s section covered everything from large-format picture books through to hardback novels and the usual amount of non-fiction.

(Library books were almost always bought in hardback for better wear, and even the softback picture books were rebound with heavy card inserts.)

There were classics like “Treasure Island”,  “Kidnapped”, “King Solomon’s Mines” “Under the Red Robe” and “The Jungle Books”.

There were standalone titles like “The Otterbury Incident”, “The Silver Sword”, “The Sword in the Stone” and “The Stone Cage”.

There were series about characters like William, Biggles, Jennings and his counterpart Molesworth, the Moomins, Narnia and Uncle.

There were authors like Alan Garner, Nicholas Stuart Grey, Rosemary Sutcliffe, Henry Treece, Ronald Welch… And of course there was J.R.R. Tolkien.

The first time I got "The Hobbit", "Farmer Giles of Ham" and "Smith of Wootton Major" they were shelved in the Children's section. This was about 1968-69.

In the early 1970s the library moved to larger premises, which allowed room for Very Young Children (where the picture books now lived) and Children (everything else), still with no YA section, though with more advanced picture books like “Tintin” and “Asterix” * in a sort of no-man’s-land between them.

( * These included editions in the original French, which turned out very useful for making language lessons at school a bit more fun and gaining extra marks in exams through judiciously enhanced vocabulary.)

“The Hobbit” et cetera were still on the Children shelves, but now that the library was larger and more open-plan, volumes of "The Lord of The Rings", normally in the Adult section, occasionally got shelved there as well by well-meaning non-staff people.

I never saw “The Hobbit” mis-shelved alongside “Lord of the Rings” among the Adults, but Farmer Giles” and “Smith” sometimes turned up there, courtesy of those same well-meaning hands.

It’s probably because the first, with its sometimes complex wordplay and mock-heroic plot, reads like a humorous parody of more serious works, while the second, if read in the right frame of mind, can seem quite adult in the style of Sylvia Townsend Warner’s “Kingdoms of Elfin” - which is in fact a good deal more adult than “Smith of Wootton Major”, even if you squint.

*****

This “Hobbit” / “Rings” confusion is a lightweight version of assuming a particular author writes every book for the same age-group. This is very much not the case.

Sometimes the thickness of the book is a giveaway. Compare, for instance, @neil-gaiman’s “American Gods” with “Coraline” or indeed “Fortunately, The Milk”.

Sometimes the cover is a hint, for example the difference between “Live and Let Die” by Ian Fleming...

...and “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”, also by Ian Fleming...

...although the original James Bond novels are – apart from some extremely dated attitudes – a lot more weaksauce than many YA books nowadays.

(More weaksauce still now that Fleming, like Roald Dahl and Agatha Christie, has been censored to conceal the extent to which - let's call them Certain Attitudes - were a standard feature in British popular fiction. Apparently (I haven't read any Newspeak Bond so can't confirm) the redaction was done in a curiously slapdash way, removing some things while leaving others.

These novels have become, IMO anyway, period pieces as much as Kipling, Doyle, Dickens and Austen, and erasure probably has less to do with sensitivity - maybe with some "brush it under the rug and they'll forget about it" involved - than with keeping them marketable, so Fleming doesn't go the way of other once-bestselling writers like "Sapper" and Sydney Horler.)

It would also be a mistake, despite advisory wizards Tom and Carl, to think that @dduane’s “Young Wizards” books are meant for the same age-group as her “Middle Kingdoms” series – although, once again, the later YW books and all of the MK slot into what a modern YA audience expects from its fiction.

But sometimes there’s absolutely no doubt that This Book by This Author is not meant for the readership of That Book by The Same Author. I’m thinking of one example which caused a certain amount of amusement.

“Bee Hunter” by Robert Nye is a retelling of the Beowulf story for children, though IIRC occasional bloody episodes as Grendel takes Hrothgar’s housecarls apart make it more suited to older children. 

I’d brought home a copy from the library when much younger, and borrowed it again years later in company with another Nye novel, “Falstaff”...

...which was poetic, historic, melancholic, often bawdy, frequently funny and at all times most emphatically NOT for children, as indicated by some of these chapter headings - I draw your attention to XX, XXII, XXXII and especially XL... ;->

Yes. Quite... :->

*****

I was familiar with card index systems from quite early in my life, because my grandfather’s grocer’s shop had a fairly simple one for keeping track of customers, suppliers, stock and so forth, and since the library’s index card system cross-referenced in the same way, I was already home and dry.

If I could remember a title, I'd find the author, and once found I could track down other titles by that author (which, as shown above, can be educational...) Even if I could only remember the subject - historical, adventure, comedy - I'd still have narrowed my search window more than somewhat.

(This from-here-to-there mindset later became virtual train travel by way of the electronic timetables which SBB – Swiss Railways – used to issue on CD, and which let me “travel” anywhere in Europe, complete with a map. Those CDs are long discontinued, but I can still do virtual travel courtesy of the SBB website. Complete with a map…)

This is the last one we got, kept for sentimental reasons and occasional outdated train-travel on an equally outdated XP netbook.

As you do.

Or as I do, anyway. :->

*****

I also knew about title request cards and interlibrary loans, and was a frequent user - never more so than when I started reading “The Lord of the Rings” for the first time.

The town library didn’t have all three volumes, just “The Fellowship of the Ring” and “The Two Towers”, so I checked them out on a Friday to read over the weekend.

You can already see where this is going… :->

I finished “Fellowship” late on Saturday afternoon, went straight into “Towers” and by Sunday evening was all of a twitter (no, not that one) or as my mum would have said, up to high Doh, as I fretted about Not Knowing What Happened Next.

Fortunately school was no more than a brisk bike ride from the library, so I devoted my Monday morning break to zooming down and filling in one of the most urgent title requests I’ve ever made, then spent the rest of the week on tenterhooks, looking in every lunchtime and each afternoon on my way home.

Just In Case.

Some kindly librarian must have pulled strings or stamped the request "Expedite Soonest", because when I went back to school after Thursday lunch, I had “The Return of the King” burning a hole in my saddlebag.

I wanted to start reading it at once, but good sense prevailed; imagine getting caught between chapters at the back of a boring Geography lesson and Having The Book Confiscated…

I didn’t pay much attention in class on Friday, due to being half-asleep after starting “Return” in the evening after prep and finishing it in the wee hours of the morning.

But being tired didn’t prevent me from starting with “Fellowship” again on Friday night, and this time being able to read right through to the end without needing to stop.

It Was Great…

[immortalmint]

How many people on the Boiling Isles are related to Caleb? And are Dell and/or Gwendolyn related?

In The Owl House, there is strong evidence the Clawthornes are related to Caleb Wittebane and Evelyn (Clawthorne?). Many fans point to a connection through Gwendolyn, via the ‘lyn family suffix shared by Gwendolyn, Edalyn, and Evelyn. There is also Gwendolyn’s family knowledge of a human previously living in Bonesborough:

“My great-grandmother told me about a human who once lived here. But one day he just vanished. Rumor has it he left something in the library, and if you can find out more about him...”

A Gwendolyn connection is very plausible. We’ll get into family resemblances later.

But a connection through Dell has merit as well, given his palisman’s striking resemblance to Flapjack. We’ll call our yellow cardinal Biscuit for now. (Biscuits were ship rations in the late 1500s onward, and absolutely have been eaten for breakfast. They work in any meal. Every meal. Caleb was poor and hungry, okay?)

The visual clues we get are intermingled between Dell, Caleb, Biscuit, and Flapjack. When Dell is first injured by the Owl Beast, the red blood over his closed eye makes the same shape as Flapjack’s scar. Both Dell and Flapjack are wounded in the same eye, their left. These wounds share symbolic similarities, as they were both from family members: Dell’s injury was caused unintentionally by Eda when she was startled and turned into in Owl Beast form, and Flapjack’s injury likely occurred during Philip’s failed attempt to murder his sister-in-law Evelyn and Philip’s (also unintentional?) murder of his brother Caleb.

(As for physical appearance, note the similar nose shape between middle-aged Dell and teenage Hunter in the screenshots below.)

Looking at older Dell, the scar’s color and shape greatly resembles Flapjack’s head. Both Flapjack and Biscuit have two-peaks of feathers crowning their heads, similar shaped face and chest feather patterns, bicolor wings of light and dark from their respective color pallets, and identically shaped feet. These birds were clearly a matched set, Biscuit likely being carved by Caleb to complement Evelyn’s Flapjack. Sometime after Evelyn’s death, Flapjack presumably left for the Bat Queen, and Biscuit stayed on with the family (I strongly believe Biscuit was Caleb’s palisman, and bonded with his young daughter to relay the love of the father she was deprived of). Biscuit continues to stay with the family to this day, adopting a young witch every 3 to 4 generations. She now belongs with Dell.

It’s also telling that all the Clawthorne family palismen are birds.

If you’re wondering why Biscuit is a she, check out the Northern Cardinal, which is quite common in Connecticut. I took pictures from this lovely bird website: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Northern_Cardinal/id

Male Northern Cardinals are red, and females are supposedly “brown,” but if you told me that bird looked yellow, I’d agree with you.

What about family appearance? We’ve compared Dell to Caleb/Hunter. So let’s take a look at Evelyn. We’ve got a lot less to go on here. Just a few memory photos from Philip’s mindscape. But from what we can see, Evelyn has impressively full hair very similar to Gwendolyn and Eda. The washed out colors of the photo make it difficult to determine an exact hair color, but brown to reddish-brown seems plausible.

Looking at the Clawthornes, we see various shades of brown, red, and orange (yeah… I know they’re still called redheads, but that’s because the word ‘orange’ wasn’t in the language when redheads first showed up.) These are all plausible hair colors for the descendants of Caleb and Evelyn.

Am I saying that both Gwendolyn and Dell are related to Caleb and Evelyn?

Yes!

Yes, I am.

‘But isn’t that gross?’ you may wonder.

Eh, not really. They’re around 13 generations away from their shared common ancestor, Caleb and Evelyn’s daughter. We’ll call her Caylyn for convenience. With each generation, the percentage of DNA from a relative goes down by half. Example: You share 50% of your DNA with your mom, but only 25% of your DNA with your grandpa. The calculation is 1/(2^generation) x 100%, where that little ^ character means “to the power of.” So by the time we get to Dell and Gwendolyn, each would only have 1/(2^13) x 100% = 0.012% shared DNA. That’s very low risk for hereditary birth defects. You probably don’t have your own family tree documented well enough to avoid hooking up with your 13th cousin.

‘But what are the odds of two Caylyn relatives hooking up?’

After 13+ generations on an island? It’s more likely than you think!

Now that you’ve been lured in with screenshots and pretty birds, it’s time to get to my favorite part: MATH!

I mean, EVEN MORE MATH!

And dates. Yeah. They’re important too.

From Masha’s account, in 1613, the orphans Philip and Caleb Wittebane arrive in Gravesfield. Based on how small the boys are compared to a butter churner meant for adults, it’s safe to assume Caleb is 10 or younger. Philip is likely 7 or younger.

Now fast-forward to Evelyn’s pregnancy. Philip has a full beard in this photo, which means he’s at least 18, more likely in his early-to-mid 20s (most white males can’t grow a full beard until their 20s). That would put the date sometime between 1625 and 1630 for Caylyn’s birth.

To simplify our generational model, we’re going to assume that Caylyn was born in 1625 and that she and her descendants had 2 surviving children each when they were approximately 25 years old. That means in 1650, Caylyn had 2 children, and Evelyn became a grandmother.

If you’re wondering about my assumptions, the birthrate didn’t fall below 2 children in the USA until the 1970s. And before 1800, the birthrate was over 7 children! But when we look back at the 1600s-1800s, 40-50% of children died before adulthood, leaving only 3.5-4 children surviving to have kids of their own. I went with the assumption of 2 children per generation to account for additional factors such as people deciding not to have kids or cultural differences in family sizes that may have existed in the Boiling Isles. In all likelihood, Caleb’s descendants had a higher birthrate than 2. But we’ll stick with 2 to be conservative, and to make the math easy to see the effects of doubling!

Let’s finish the century out with 4 great-grandchildren (2 x 2, or 2^2) in 1675 and 8 great-great-grandchildren (2 x 2 x 2, or 2^3) by 1700. We get another 4 generations of descendants every century after this. So, by 1800, we have 128 (2^7). By 1900, we have 2,048 (2^11). And by the year 2000, we have 32,768 (2^15) new babies born related to a human! That’s a lot of people! And if we add together the most recent 3 generations, there’s even more living relations to Caleb on the Isles. At least 57,344 people!

Dell and Gwendolyn are 13 generations away from Caylyn, with birthdays approximately in 1950. I get this date based on Eda being in her mid to late 40s at the start of The Owl House (2020) according to Dana Terrance (so Eda’s birthday is ~1975). Her parents would be ~25 years older than her. So, when Dell and Gwendolyn meet, our number is around 8,192 (2^13) descendants of Caleb in their generation. And in all likelihood, Caleb’s descendants are more concentrated on the forearm where Evelyn originally lived. This makes it extremely likely that at least some of Caleb’s descendants marry each other.

How likely? First we need to know the approximate population of the Boiling Isles in the 1950s. Dana Terrance said the BI is roughly the size of Vermont in this interview. And in 1950, Vermont had a population of 377,700. We’ll use this as our rough population number for the 1950s BI. For the group born in 1950 (8,192 of which are descendants of Caleb), they make up 2.17% of the total population. But if we think about the number of people in that generation who would marry someone of similar age, we’re looking at the 20-30 year-old bracket, which is about 10% of the total population, or 37,770 people. And 8,192 is 21.7% of the people in Dell and Gwendolyn’s generation (gen 13). It isn’t a question of if two Caleb descendants got married, it’s a question of how many marriages!

(If you’re curious: [chance of person 1 being a Caleb descendant] x [chance of person 2 being a descendant] x [half of gen 13 population], because we’re looking at pairs of people, not individuals. So 21.7% of 21.7% = 4.7% of marriages in gen 13, times half the gen 13 population (18,885) is 887 marriages!)

Dell and Gwendolyn both being descendants of Caleb isn’t even that rare! The Clawthornes are one of multiple families where both sides of the family can claim human ancestry. It’s amazing how far one person’s genetics can spread in 400 years of breeding!

Alright, let’s get back to the main question: How many people on the Boiling Isles are related to Caleb?

By the Day of Unity (2022), we’re close enough to generation 16 (2025), which is 65,536 (2^16) babies, that we can look at a range between 2020 and 2025. In 2020, the 3 generations alive are 8,192 (2^13), 16,384 (2^14), and 32,768 (2^15), or 57,344 total living descendants. In 2025, the 3 generations alive are 16,384 (2^14), 32,768 (2^15), and 65,536 (2^16), or 114,688 total living descendants. In 2022, Vermont had a total population of 647,064 people, and we’re assuming the Boiling Isles population grew similarly. So we have between 8.9% and 17.8% of the BI population related to Caleb on the Day of Unity.

Belos wasn’t only attempting genocide against witches. Philip Wittebane was trying to kill thousands of his own relatives.

Food for thought.

[rjzimmerman]

Scientists Made a List of Lost Birds and Now They Want Us to Find Them. (New York Times)

Clockwise from top left: Santa Marta sabrewing; Golden-fronted bowerbird; Reichenow’s firefinch; Hook-billed kite; Edwards’s pheasant; Bronze parotia.Credit...Carole Turek; Tim Laman; Simon Colenutt; Karine Aigner; Ernie James; Tim Laman/Nature Picture Library, via Minden Pictures

Excerpt from this New York Times story:

In 2022, an ornithologist high in the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta mountains of northern Colombia spotted the shimmering emerald green and cobalt blue feathers of the Santa Marta sabrewing. A large hummingbird, it had only been documented twice since 1879. As the bird sat on a branch the ornithologist, Yurgen Vega, captured images.

Once lost to science, it now was found.

The bird was on the American Bird Conservancy’s 10 most wanted list, which sits atop a longer register of “lost birds,” which are formally defined as not having been documented by photographic, audio or genetic evidence in at least a decade.

A major goal of the list is to persuade bird watchers and others to look for these birds as they go out into the field, and to bring back evidence the birds have not gone extinct.

People have searched for lost birds for decades. But the process was formalized in 2020 by the conservancy, in partnership with two other groups, Re:wild and BirdLife International, as the Search for Lost Birds project.

Researchers from the groups published a paper in June with a definitive list of birds that need finding. They scoured tens of millions of photos, videos and audio recordings in birding databases such as iNaturalist and xeno-canto. The study concluded that there are 144 species of bird lost to the scientific world but that may still exist.

[queenlucythevaliant]

Northern Lights

.

I heard a voice that cried, “Balder the Beautiful is dead, is dead!” 

.

Who knows what to call the lonely exhilaration of gazing out into a bright Northern sky? Who can name it? 

Jill could.

It was the same feeling that came to her at the teetering edge of a cliff at the end of the world. The same feeling as when she said her goodbyes to Puddleglum and Scrubb before they freed the prince. It was the same feeling that engulfed her now, sitting in the professor’s library with a volume of poetry before her. 

.

The wild northern wastes were well named: utterly wild, perfectly desolate, and terribly Northern. 

It was lonely there and often cold, but the sky was an endless whorl of gales and gray clouds. The stones were indigo under the pale winter sunlight, and at sunset they glowed a soft gold, as though lit from within. The gorges and moors lay before her, and Jill loved them for their vastness and their distance. Little grew in that country, but that which did was full of vigor. The grass was short and coarse. Every tree was victorious. 

On a still, deep breathing winter night, Jill lay on her back beneath a covering sky. It seemed beautiful to her, rich and strong and glorious. Her eyes drank in the breadth of it until her tears began to blind her. Yet even then, she still couldn’t look away.

She felt bigger here in the wastes, like the landscape. Stronger, wider. The further she walked, the more she felt herself stretch out. One of these days, maybe, she would catch hold of herself at the edge and tug, and Jill Pole would open up clear as the Northern sky. 

.

And through the misty air passed the mournful cry of sunward sailing cranes.

.

The thing that surprised Jill most about the battle with the serpent was this: there wasn’t any yelling. Always, it seemed, whenever she read stories about people fighting with swords, the combatants would let loose some guttural yell before their blows fell. They would scream and writhe in pain as they died. They would shout instructions to their fellows, “Look out!” or “Hit him there!” But the whole affair with the serpent passed with very little noise. 

The poison-green coil constricted around the prince; he raised his arms and got clear, struck the serpent hard, and then Scrubb and Puddleglum dispatched the creature with heavy, hacking blows. The monster died writhing, but not screaming. And then it was over. 

The thing that surprised Jill most about the moments before battle was, of course, the noise. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. She couldn’t stop listening to her own breathing. Every footstep rang out like a gong, and any words exchanged rang with a kind of finality that made them sound louder than anything. 

“You are of high courage,” Rilian told her when it was over. 

Yet the thing in Jill’s chest just then didn’t feel like courage. It was a deep breath, a plunge, and a release. It was loud and quiet all at once, till she was standing, blinking in the night air as snowballs whizzed round her, and maybe that was something like courage after all. 

.

And now, there was a stirring in her chest as she reread the words on the page. Sing no more / O ye bards of the North / Of Vikings and of Jarls! / Of the days of the Eld / preserve the freedom only / nor the deeds of blood! 

She thought of grief. Of freedom. 

The lonely ache in her belly grew stronger. She felt herself uplifted into the huge regions of sky that were just beyond those cliffs, weightless as the breath beneath her buoyed her up, further, further…

.

When she saw Caspian up close, Jill thought that he looked like the sort of person who was meant to live in a castle. A silly thought, perhaps, since she knew he was a king– only she wasn’t thinking of Cair Paravel. No, Jill was picturing the ruins of an old British castle she’d visited once on holiday. She still remembered how the stonework had loomed over her, all towering arches and crumbling walls. That was where Caspian seemed to belong. He had an air of ancient tragedy about him. 

When Rilian disappeared, all things had wept but one. The serpent coiled beneath the earth and flicked its forked tongue, spewing poison. 

Now, the king half rose to bless his son. He whispered a few words as he caressed Rilian’s cheek, words meant only for those beloved ears. Jill saw Caspian’s lips move and wondered what a man like that could possibly say, when time ran so short. 

.

They laid him in his ship, with horse and harness, as on a funeral pyre. Odin placed a ring upon his finger, and whispered in his ear.

.

Jill furtively took Myths of the Northmen and held it up to the professor with a question in her eyes. She was still shy around him and Miss Plummer, though she wished she wasn’t. 

“Would you like to take that with you?”

“...Please.”

.

It takes a certain kind of person to be exhilarated by the heights. You’ve got to love vastness more than you fear falling. 

.

They walked to the train station with an autumn wind blowing hard, and though Jill couldn’t fathom why, she turned and saw Lucy grinning, fierce and joyful– grinning and reaching a hand out towards her friend.

Jill reached back and grabbed it. “What will you do, once we’re back in Narnia?” she asked. 

The wind blew harder. The feeling of anticipation grew and grew, until it felt so big that she couldn’t dream of containing it. And there was Lucy, holding Jill’s hand and laughing like it was easy.

.

Preserve the freedom only, not the deeds of blood!

.

The second time Jill went to Narnia, she found herself not at its edge, but at its end. 

The thing about the Norse apocalypse is: it feels believable. It doesn’t reach beyond earth’s horizon to pull down hope beyond hope. It’s only the kind of courage that hopeless humans have: you are going to die, so you might as well die bravely. 

They found the last king of Narnia bound to a tree. His eyes were faintly red from crying, and his wrists and ankles red from the coarseness of his fetters. 

In the Norse myths, Loki broke free of his fetters at the end of the world. He escaped to the helm of a ship made from the fingernails of the dead.

The last king of Narnia fell forward onto the ground when Eustace cut his bonds. Jill crouched down beside him and watched as he rubbed feeling back into his legs. He wasn’t so much older than her, she thought. Jill was sixteen years old; the last king of Narnia could not be older than twenty-two. 

In the myths, the gods were ancient, hewn from the bodies of giants old as the earth. 

Jill put out a hand and helped the last king of Narnia to his feet. Not for the last time, she shivered. Something deep inside her (deeper than her chest, than her heart, than the marrow of her bones, deep as her soul, deeper) was singing an elegy and she didn’t know why, or how, or where it had come from. The king clutching her hand, who could have been her older brother, would have no heir.

Yet when he asked, “Will you come with me?” Jill could only smile. 

“Of course,” she said. “It’s you we’ve come to help.”

.

And the voice forever cried, "Balder the Beautiful is dead, is dead!"

.

“This really is Narnia at last,” murmured Jill. The springtime wood had little in common with the wintry lands she had traveled the last time she was here– but it awakened the same feelings of Northernness in her chest. 

Their party may as well have been the only people in the world, for how isolated their little wooden path seemed. Yet it wasn’t lonely, really, cocooned in all that green with the wind in the leaves and the primroses nodding and blue of the sky peeking through above. 

Jewel told stories about what ordinary life was like when there was peace here. As he spoke, Jill could almost hear the trees' voices speaking out of the living past, whispering, stay, stay. She was caught up to a great height, looking down across a rich, lovely plain full of woods and waters and cornfields, which spread away and away till it got thin and misty from distance. 

“Oh Jewel–” Jill said with a dreamy sigh, “wouldn’t it be lovely if Narnia just went on and on– like what you say it has been?”

She needn’t be a queen, as Susan and Lucy had been, but Jill would’ve liked to stay. She would've liked it all to stay, if it could. She might have been a woodmaid in a place like this: with the turn of the seasons, the swaying trees, swords into plowshares. Oh, if only she could stay!

Ahead, the last king of Narnia was softly singing a marching song. Jill tilted her head back and let warm shafts of sun caress her face. 

.

I saw the pallid corpse of the dead sun borne through the Northern sky.

.

“So,” said the last king of Narnia, “Narnia is no more.”

He tried to send them back. Jill shook her head. It was very loud and very quiet. “No, no, no, we won’t. I don’t care what you say. We’re going to stick by you whatever happens, aren’t we Eustace?”

They couldn’t go back anyway. Neither would they flee, not south across the mountains nor North into the great wide wastes. No, they would stay. They slept in a holly grove on the edge of ruin, waiting for the bonfires to light.

Jill slept fitfully, but in between she dreamed. She was high up in the air, buffeted by clouds and pierced by shafts of silver sunlight. 

.

They all died, in the myths. Jill knew that. It seemed beautiful and brave when she read it in her book, tucked away safe in the Professor’s library. It was terrifying now– and yet it was beautiful and brave still.

The dogs came bounding up, every one of them, running up to the king and his men with their tails wagging. One of them leapt at Jill and licked her face, tongue roughly lapping up the sweat and tears that had dried on her cheeks. 

“Show us how to help, show us how, how, how!” the dogs were barking, almost ebullient in their enthusiasm. Jill bit back a sob. How lovely, she thought. How terribly beautiful. How dreadfully brave. 

.

So perish the old Gods!

.

The white rock gleamed like a moon in the darkness when Jill finally reached it. She ran back to it alone, her hands shaking, while her friends stayed forward with their gleaming swords and Jewel’s indigo horn.

The while rock gleamed like the moon. Jill’s first shot flew wide and landed in the soft grass. But she had another arrow on her string the next instant. It was speed that mattered, not aim. Speed, and turning aside when she cried, so as not to drip tears on her bowstring.

The white rock gleamed. In the myths, a wolf devoured the moon. Peter’s wolf, slain many thousand years ago in this world, opened his jaw wide and darkness fell over everything.

Her next arrow found its mark. After that, she lost track. She pulled, and she prayed that her hands kept still another minute. 

The unique thing–maybe the appealing thing–about the Norse myths, was that they told men to serve gods who were admittedly fighting with their backs to the wall and would certainly be defeated in the end. Jill let loose another arrow, felt the white rock at her back, and she knew that the clawing fear–beauty–bravery deep in her gut was the same feeling that she felt on the heights. The same feeling, but a different face. You’ve got to love vastness more than you fear falling. 

.

“I feel in my bones,” said Poggin, “that we shall all, one by one, pass through that dark door before morning. I can think of a hundred deaths that I would rather have died.”

“It is indeed a grim door,” said Tirian. “It is more like a mouth.” 

“Oh, can’t we do anything to stop it,” said Jill. Better to be dashed to the ground than it was to be devoured. 

“Nay, fair friend,” said Jewel. “It may be for us the door to Aslan’s country and we sup at his table tonight.”

A hand tangled itself in her hair and started to pull. Jill braced herself hard, for a moment, until her strength gave out. She was standing on the edge of a high, Northern cliff. She took another step, and fell.

.

Perhaps when the moment comes, our bite will prove better than our howls. If not, we shall have to confess that two millennia of Christianity have not yet brought us to the level of the Stoics and Vikings. For the worst (according to the flesh) that a Christian need face is to die in Christ and rise in Christ; some were content to die, and not to rise, with Father Odin.

.

The world inside the stable was beautiful. It made Jill’s chest ache in all the loveliest ways. 

.

Build it again, O ye bards, fairer than before!