#a living dynasty

[endlessly-cursed]

A Living Dynasty, Chapter Four: Helga's Team

A/N: After months of hiatus and troubles with the doc, I present thee, the fourth chapter!

Summary: With war close to Henriette's doors, she must prepare for the storm ahead

OCs featured: None

OCs mentioned: None

Word Count: 2.1k

Tagging: @hphmmatthewluther @camillejeaneshphm @gaygryffindorgal @that-scouse-wizard

The man gaped at me before recomposing himself and nodded “Right away, my lady.”

After a few minutes, he was back, and took me to the queen’s room, where she was doing needlework. I quickly got on my knees, my eyes fixed on a floor carving as I spoke “Your Majesty, I thank you for receiving me in such circumstances. Your kindness knows no bounds.”

I felt her smiling at me “Stand, my dear. We are among friends, are we not?”

I stood up and sighed “I am glad that you are not angry at me, Your Majesty.”

She motioned me to sit “For not marrying that orc? Heavens, no! Though, do keep this to yourself. The King is still… you know…”

I nodded. I finally smiled “I have missed you, dear friend. How are my parents? And the court?”

The queen shrugged “Your parents have been looking for you, well, mostly your mother. Your father has taken a mistress in order to procreate a male son should you turn up dead.”

I scoffed, brushing off the sting in my heart. But of course, he’d replace his biggest disappointment. A mere girl was no use of him anyways. Aelfgifu took my hands and squeezed them, and I tried not to cry “I miss my mother, but… I can’t return now.”

“What shall I tell them then?”

I squared my shoulders. As much as I’d chat with my oldest friend for days, there was a mission at hand “That I am fine, and in good hands. But I did not come to talk about my parents. This is bigger than them.”

“Go on.”

I swallowed “Have you ever been told about the wizards in the Isles?”

Aelfgifu looked at me “Yes… Most of them are at my king’s service, as well as my lord father.” She then seemed to realise “Henriette, my dear, what have you gotten yourself into?”

I bit my lip “I… am one of them, it seems.”

Aelfgifu’s grip softened as she looked at me, searching for something: a laugh, a joke, something. Then, she dismissed her ladies and squeezed my hands “Henriette… you do realise what happens if you get caught, yes? I won’t be able to stop Aethelred’s wrath if he ever finds out.”

“That is why I need your help. Not only to hide it, but with something else. As queen of the land, wizards and people are killing one another for the mere greed of a few lords I know you despise. Magic or not, they are your subjects, and they need you.”

The queen bit her lip “What would you have me do?”

“Talk to the king. Tell him the horrors of civil war, especially with magic around. There could be some great damage, and the court would be divided. The consequences could be fatal. Seek a punishment that needs not to draw blood unnecessarily.”

Aelfgifu sighed, nodding “Very well, I shall see what I can do. But my dear, keep yourself out of harm’s way. You are new to this, and of delicate constitution. I’d hate to bury you.”

We hugged, and I knew that I had to go back to Helga “I need to go now. My master is waiting for me.”

“Is he at least kind?”

“…She’s wonderful.”

With that, we bid goodbye and I left as quickly as I had come, paying the guard a handsome reward for not telling that I had been there at all.

Then, I was off back to the Highlands.

When I reached the camp, there were already tents and warriors of all gender and kind talking and joking.

I spotted Godric and greeted him “Ah, there you are! I suppose you have news of the queen. Come, I shall take you with Helga.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

When we reached Helga’s golden tent, Godric cried “Guess who came back!”

Helga looked up and sighed, embracing me “I am so glad you made it back! Oh, there is so much I must tell you about!”

“Indeed,” Godric added “the Thane’s feast was incredibly eventful.”

Helga side-eyed him, and he cleared his throat and was out of the tent, leaving us be. I frowned “What feast?”

“That is for later. So, what did the queen say?” She asked, motioning me to sit as we ate from what she normally cooked. I took a bite of pork as I started telling her about the meeting, and skipped telling her about my parents and my father seeking a male replacement. It was humiliating enough to hear it from the queen and my oldest friend already. What Helga didn’t know, couldn’t hurt her, right?

Readying myself in war gear, but without wearing an armour, since I was not prepared enough, I sighed, knowing this battle would be hard to go through. I had heard tales from my father fighting for the king, and of course, my warrior grandparents, but this was different. And highly terrifying. I realised now that, were I want to defend my property, I’d be helpless.

So obviously, I went to the greatest warrior for advice. “Ahem. Lord Gryffindor?”

Kind Godric smiled upon seeing me “Ah, Lady Henriette! Anything I can help you with?”

I bit my lip “This is a bit embarrassing but… do you know anyone who’d train me for battle? I won’t be in the front lines, but I’d like to know the basics at least.”

“Why, of course! I also happen to know a formidable warrior. Luxia, beloved, come here!” He called.

A beautiful and fierce-looking woman came towards us. She had black hair, impassive brown eyes and a powerful and imposing armour that was richly decorated with a bloody red cape. She arched an eyebrow and Godric explained “This is Lady Henriette of Wessex. She’s in need of a trainer, and I know you’ll make of her a fine defender. Do be nice to her, darling.”

“Very well.” She kissed Godric on the lips and turned to me “Come, my lady. I know the movements that a delicate-looking woman like you can pull off without breaking any bones.”

Not exactly encouraging, but she was Godric’s best, so I was stuck with her. She continued talking “You may need a helmet, and a better-tied hair. I shall call my groomer for it. And better boots. Those will sink you in the mud before you can say ‘Amen’.” She observed one of the newer farmers who had joined the ranks recently. He was handsome, with short blonde hair, blue eyes and an innocent look “You there! Blonde boy! Tuck your thumb inside your palm or you’ll break your hand. Also, separate more your legs or you’ll be easily thrown.” Then, she turned to me “Speaking of stances. We’ll start with the basics. First, stand firm, and separate your legs.” I did as she said, and she nodded “Not bad. Plant your feet a bit firmer to the ground. Good. Now, as I told blondie over there, tuck your thumb inside your palm and widen your shoulders. Like that! Now, try to punch me.”

Not wanting to look weak or hesitant, I did as she told me, but she was faster, blocking my punch and kicking my feet. I fell straight to the ground and a yelped. Luxia got close to me “Two mistakes, my lady. One, your legs were too widened. Two, you did not observe my stance. Get up and we’ll go through it again.”

I did as she said, refusing to prove my father right, gritting my teeth. She was so good and straight-forward, it was quite infuriating. It infuriated me that I was so helpless. If only my father had been like hers, I’d be telling you a different story.

“Now, to the stance I taught you, but this time, observe me and my movements. Seek any weakness, and learn my strength.” We rounded each other, and I observed that, while her stance was flawless and firm, she was incredibly tense, given her breaths. That’s when the idea came. I’d pretend to punch her in the face, while elbowing her ribcage.

Observing how the other warriors spun for a moment, I pretended to commit that mistake, but this time, my stance was right and firm, and I spun gracefully, elbowing her in the chest hard. She stumbled back a few paces, coughing and shocked. Everyone stopped to see the commotion. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman to be trounced by a newbie. The whispers told me that.

“Never have I seen someone trounce Luxia Thorne so easily!”

“Even Lady Thorne seems shocked!”

Luxia arched an eyebrow at me and laughed “Not bad, m’lady. Being observant in battle shall save you.”

“Fighting isn’t only throwing punches. It requires cunning and thinking on your feet.” We both turned to see Lady Rowena with her new apprentice. She turned to me “Lady Thorne is all about brute force, and while that is helpful, without said qualities, one is bound to fall in battle. You did well, Lady Henriette.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

“I… shall keep your counsel in mind, my lady. Now, shall we go over offensive spells?”

I nodded, and both went over some defensive spells you might have learned by now. We might have even set one tent on fire because of said spells.

“But wait,” Primrose cut, “those spells are technically harmless. I train with dummies and nothing of the sort ever happened.”

“That is because magic ran more wildly in my time than in yours, child. It was volatile, and unpredictable. During those times, it was raw and uncontrolled. Many liberties were taken. Nothing was regulated or heavily studied like now. Very few mages could have the privilege to take a hold of their own magic.”

“Were you? One of the lucky ones?”

“Yes, as were my children. This was the reason why Hogwarts would be founded later. To help mages all over England and its isles to harness their power and have a certain grip on it.”

Prim stood silent for one moment. She had always heard the story of how the founders came together and built Hogwarts, but never the reasons that led them to build it. The price of it. The lives they had lost before they decided to come together and build it.

But she could now know it. Squaring her shoulders, she nodded “Go on. What happened afterwards?”

“Historians were right on one thing. I didn’t fight any battles physically, but my duties weren’t completely useless. Indeed, I was Helga’s representative on the diplomatic talks, which many forget to mention.”

“How’d that go?”

“Well… we didn’t start with the right foot if I’m being honest.”

“You know what?” I said, panting “I don’t think I’m made for the fighting.” I was breathing heavily, exhausted by the whole training. Luxia shifted.

“I was afraid I’d have to say it. I’d hate to see you killed on the battlefield, my lady.”

“There must be something I can do. I’m going to talk to Helga.”

Nodding to one another goodbye, I marched over Helga’s tent, and decisively raised my chin “My lady, I ask you to please give me a non-warring role. There must be something I can do that doesn’t require me to use a sword.”

Helga looked at me, then sat there, pensive, until a deliver boy came in, panting “My lady, I’m afraid your diplomat has been assassinated by Lord Leofric.”

“What?! I needed him to sit with the lords and the rebels and trace out a peace treaty!”

Suddenly, it struck me “Wait, hold on. Lord Leofric, as in Lord Leofric of East Anglia?” The boy nodded “I know him! Me and his daughters grew up together. That man loves war and bloodshed more than anything.” I turned to Helga, who eyed me curiously “I know each of the men who’ll be at the table, as well as their weaknesses. Send me, Helga. Let me draw the peace. Someone who’s familiar with both sides is what you need.”

Helga caught up silently, and smiled widely “Very well, Lady Henriette. Have it your way. You shall sit with Lady Rowena representing a neutral side and bring us a potential peace. I shall tell her the news.”

Together, we formed a plan: since I wasn’t the favourite of the court right now, I’d go there in disguise until the talks started under the name Senator Gemi. When the talks begun, I’d reveal myself and they’d have to listen to me, despite my reputation. In the meantime, I’d write to the queen so she’d use her influence to sway the rest of the court… and the king.

It’d be a tough fight for peace, but I was more than ready to prove to those old men that I was more than a marriage broodmare.  

[somewhatsentientspellbook]

There's just something so fascinating about the way the Exandrian pantheon has decided to handle the Aeor Situation™ - by electing a few of their kind to be born as mortals in order to infiltrate the city.

The first to bring herself low was Ioun, and I can only imagine how lonely that must have been for her. To feel infinite wisdom creeping into her adolescent mind? To rise through Aeor's ranks knowing what they'd do to her if the authorities discovered the truth of her existence? Waiting, hoping, perhaps even praying that the other gods would follow through with the plan.

Sarenrae has a husband and children as Trist. I can't help but consider the parallels to Liliana Temult, with a 'higher calling' pulling a mother away from her family. The conversations in the temple suggest that she would have been aware of what she was by the time she started her family. Yet she loves them, cherishes them, even knowing that she might not see them again. Will Amaris, Haylie, and Topher learn that Trist is a goddess? Or will that only be discovered when they find their way to her realm in Elysium?

The Matron was once mortal, and she willingly returned to that form in order to help her newfound siblings dismantle the Aeorian threat. Her steward since childhood was Purvan, helping raise and guide her despite his old age. Imagine being a little girl, guarded by the Champion of Ravens himself and his wolven companion, completely unaware of your own divinity until later in life. Imagine the night she woke up, remembering her ascendency, seeing Purvan and recognising him.

And what of the families that gave birth to and raised the four Betrayer Gods? What of the halfling family who watched their precocious daughter scale a fence with far too much ease than it should be? The day the tortle's parents found him crying in pain and tearing at his skin to distract himself from a memory so distant and yet so real? Or Milo, who became a priest, not to follow in the light of the Dawnfather (like his parents may have thought), but to mock his brother even as a mortal?

These gods spent entire childhoods with families and friends, taking refuge from the skirmishes caused by their other siblings. Who, despite those similarities, have very different opinions of humanity, of Aeor, and themselves.

[hope-ur-ok]

happy birthday folklore!!!!!!!!!!

[essektheylyss]

You know what's hilarious, if Ludinus was indeed a young man being traumatized by the end of the Calamity. Deirta Thelyss is almost certainly older than he is.

This is not relevant but I think Essek should bring this up, just to be a bitch about it.

[tiny-librarian]

On this day in history, August 12th, two thousand and fifty four years ago, Cleopatra VII, the last active ruler of Ancient Egypt, committed suicide.

Eleven days previously, her husband Marc Antony had already done the same. The couple had been engaged in a civil war against Octavian, the great nephew of Julius Caesar who had been declared his legal heir. During the final battle in Alexandria, Antony suffered serious desertions among his troops and lost the fight. Upon his return, he falsely heard Cleopatra had killed herself and fell on his sword.

After Antony’s death, Octavian arrived in Egypt and effectively took Cleopatra and her children by Antony prisoner. She had sent her eldest son Caesarion, her only living child with Caesar, away for his own safety. She knew that Octavian planned for her to march in chains behind his chariot during his triumph parade, and would very likely have her killed afterwards. Rather than suffer such humiliations and indignity, she chose to take her own life.

Popular history and mythology leads us to believe that she was killed by inducing an asp to bite her, after having locked herself in her mausoleum with her two handmaidens. However, many modern scholars believe that she instead took a mixture of poisons, since the venom of an asp does not cause a quick or painless death. Octavian and his men found her too late to do anything, Cleopatra was already dead and one handmaiden, Iras, was nearly dead on the floor. The second, Charmian, was straightening the Queen’s diadem. According to legend, one of the men asked if this was well done of her mistress, and she shot back “Very well done, as befitting the descendant of so many noble Kings,“ before collapsing and dying herself.

Upon her death, Octavian honoured Cleopatra’s wish to be buried in her mausoleum at Antony’s side. He took her children with Antony, the twins Cleopatra Selene and Alexander Helios, along with their younger brother, Ptolemy Philadelphus, to Rome with him as prisoners of sorts. They were fated to march in his triumph parade in their mother’s place, the chains so heavy they could hardly walk. After this they were given to Octavian’s sister Octavia, who had been Antony’s third wife, to look after.

Cleopatra’s son with Caesar, Caesarion, was nominally sole ruler of Egypt after his mother’s death. Eleven days after her suicide, he was found after being lured back to Alexandria under false pretenses of being allowed to rule in his mother’s place. Octavian ordered his murder, on advice that “Two Caesar were too many.”

With Cleopatra’s death, and Caesarion’s subsequent murder, the rule of the Ptolemaic Dynasty came to an end and Egypt became a mere Roman Province.

[kimp05]

love you seven times (2023) : appreciation post | xiang yun / cang hai costumes

[funeralprocessor]

I personally think the Nox aren't naturally grey. Overexposure to colloidal silver makes you bluish grey

And the Nox of the eternal cities make heavy use of silver tears. I don't think it's unreasonable to think it's turned them grey

The ancestral followers are *also* grey, which to me seems to point to it being an environmental factor, and if it is the silver tears (or whatever process produces them) I can only assume it's not a contamination limited to the cities themselves.

[yebreed]

Dramatic Twenty-eight Constellation Figurines From The Jade Emperor Temple

Twenty-eight Constellations (二十八星宿) provided an inexhaustible source of inspiration for Chinese religious art of the Song and Yuan dynasties. Such images are characterized by amazing expressiveness. Something you can never unsee.)

These samples date back to the Yuan dynasty. The statues are on display in the Jade Emperor Temple (玉皇廟), located in Jincheng (晉城), Shanxi.

The temple itself and the main hall were erected during the Northern Song dynasty. These stunning clay figures appeared a bit later and remained there during all subsequent architectural expansions and transformations.

Photo: ©俊灵-

[guesst]

im normal about lien i promise

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

[endlessly-cursed]

A Living Legacy, Chapter Two: The Beginning of All

A/N: After a few months of not updating, I have finally completed the second chapter! With this chapter, I officially say goodbye to August and my summer. Enjoy!!

Summary: Henriette learns of a new world ... and a few things about herself

OCs featured: Changeling Betwixt @hphmmatthewluther

Warnings: There is a scene where a poor girl is burned at the stake and mature themes are explored, reader's discretion is advised

Word Count: 1.8k

Tagging: @hphmmatthewluther @camillejeaneshphm @gaygryffindorgal @that-scouse-wizard

I shook my head. Could it be possible? “Me?!” I cried “A—A witch?!”

Helga nodded, a wide smile on her face “Why, yes!”

This was surreal, I thought. I must be dreaming, right? I told myself. But I was not dreaming “You do not remember anything, do you?” Helga inquired.

I searched in my head any plausible explanation, and while drinking more water, a sudden image came into my mind.

I was back in that alley, and the best men were surrounding me. I closed my eyes and screamed. They all fell backwards. Everything shook. And then someone took me. Could I truly could’ve done something so incredible without barely even trying?

“But,” I rebutted “magic’s not real. It is a tale to scare misbehaving children.”

Helga smiled bemused while she shook that stick again “Then what is this, my lady?” Sparks of pure golden flew and I gasped. I shook my head. Was she playing tricks with me? Was this a prank by my betrothed? “Magic is real, my love. You may not see it, but it is there. Among us. In your blood. You may be lost now, but once you get the hang of it, trust me, no one will do that again.”

“I—I cannot be a witch. I shall be burnt alive!” I cried.

“Not if you’re smart about it.” Helga said, with that amiable smile that must win many, many hearts.

1897

“Wait,” Primrose blurted, notebook in hand “I thought the witch-hunts started in Salem in the 17th century.”

Henriette chuckled “Those are the most famous, yes. But there have always been witch hunts. It definitely increased over those times. Some were not recorded, but there were. I, Helga, Rowena, and their female allies were always at risk, because witchcraft in women was viewed as a threat.”

“Because witchcraft means freedom, independence, knowledge, and the men do not want that in us.”

Henriette smiled “What a delightfully insightful young girl. You shall go far in life, my dear.”

“And did you ever? Almost got burned at the stake, I mean.”

The blonde woman shook her head “No. But I got to witness them. Such ghastly thing. I am glad that your people are beyond that and just spurn them socially.”

“When did you witness such a thing?” Primrose asked.

“That same day. My first day in an unseen England.”

Helga and I walked through the murky and sandy streets, not yet paved, observing everything. Some people talked and traded goods and food, and others duelled with said sticks, which Helga told me were wands.

“If magic is real,” I hesitated “does Merlin, Arthur, Camelot and those fantastic tales exist?”

“They did. It has been a century since the happenings, but we have him very present in our lives. Many try to match him, but it is quite impossible, you see. Not even I compared with my dearest friends can stand a chance together against him. Consider him our Charlemagne.”

“Papa told me we descend from him and one of his mistresses.”

Helga smiled “Lucky girl. You must be veneered back home.”

I bit my lip “Many of my kind descend from him. He had quite the impact in our livelihood.”

It was true. Many could trace their lineage back to Charlemagne or Roman emperors, it was almost a question of blood supremacy and who got the better lineage. My family was only a minor Saxon noble family who got lucky after a mistress of Charlemagne, after having her firstborn son with him, married with his permission and settled in east Wessex. Many others descended from the Romans and even the very first kings of our country. Compared to them, we were just average nobility.

“Oh, Lord,” Helga breathed as I, too, heard the cries for help. From a woman, as many others cheered.

“We ought to go. Now!” Helga whispered, but I was not sure.

“We must aid her! Do I smell smoke?” I followed the scent, until it took me to a crowd of people. Many roared as a woman walked on her chemise, crying that she was not guilty and the horror on my heart when I saw that she was younger than I.

“Burn the witch!” One man cried.

“Kill that bitch!” Another cried.

“We don’t want abominations in our land!” One woman with a child cried as well.

My blood ran cold as I realised, they were burning her under the accusations of witchcraft.

“Please!” The girl cried “I am innocent! I am but a poor healer! Mama! Papa!”

I looked in her directions as their parents cried, helplessness in their eyes as a bishop blessed her before he lit the bonfire. I couldn’t help but look in pure horror. I was paralysed. All I could see and hear were that poor girl’s screams, piercing through my ears and heart, wrenching it in a thousand pieces.

Before I could do anything, a soft but firm hand took me out of there and into a small pub—it was Helga, saving me from the terrors yet again. She had a knowing and sad face in her eyes “Now you see why you must be careful, dear. Especially being a woman of range. They will eat you alive, no hesitation.”

I nodded. I knew what she meant, deep down. Wiping my tears, I sighed and Helga asked for some water, and I nearly swallowed whole the pint. Not my most ladylike moment, if you ask me.

After that, Helga and I decided to talk more about what we’d do.

“But, wait,” Primrose asked, seeming confused “what did you exactly knew? That they’d burn you as a witch?”

The portrait sighed “So much more, my love. You see, wizards like Merlin are revered and worshipped by muggles and wizards alike, but when it comes to Hecate, Morgana, Nimue and many other famous witches and even women accused of witches, the situation changes. They are evil, petty, ugly, and a menace to mankind. Magic is always seen as this enormous responsibility, burden and responsibility. And men can’t conceive a woman being able to harness such power within them. To them, we are still unreasonable, meek and with a childish mindset, unable to undertake such responsibility. To them, we are not worthy of it. And thus, punish us by injuring our pride and personalities, twisting the story to give future generations of women the same message.”

“Know your place.” Primrose ended. A shadow had crossed the young woman, now fully aware of what Henriette was saying “I can’t tell how many times I’ve been told that I ought to marry a man of rank for me to be taken seriously as a future heiress. It is the only way to be heard: to have a man backing you, or to give up such privileges in order to not insult his ego, regardless of our pride and rights. We may have advanced, but,”

“The customs and those in power have not.” Henriette chuckled bitterly “This is the problem with the wizarding community. We never learn the lesson. We never advance. No matter what hero comes to save us and open our eyes, they will be immediately shut down and forced to take your position in this unmoving and unfair society. The history book on our shelves keeps repeating itself, no matter what we try to do. If those capable of changing the ways don’t enhance their campaign, then we will never advance nor learn the lesson, no matter how many of us we bury.”

“When did you find out all of this?”

Henriette lighted up again “Pretty quickly.”

“How so?”

She smiled “…Someone from the outside helped me see their way.”

Helga and I walked away from the commotion, hidden in our cloaks and looking like lost tourists from the highlands. By then, the House of Alpin reigned in rather turbulent times. As many knows, my eldest daughter Denegifu would marry on that country, but that is a tale for another time.

After making sure we’d lost them, I realised we had exited the capital and would be walking towards a cove. Not used to walking much, and still with my wedding shoes, I panted heavily, my feet hurting.

“Do not fret, sweetling, we shall soon arrive to somewhere comfortable.”

I nodded. I had no option but to trust that she wasn’t exaggerating to comfort me. After reaching its darkest part, she waited a bit, and finally, a strange voice called out “Why, Lady Hufflepuff, how kind of you to honour me with your venerable presence,” the tone had some irony to it.

She curtsied respectfully, and I did the same easily, thanks to the hours of training with Mama.

“Your Highness. I am aware that you are busy, but we must make use of your Portkey.”

Finally, the hooded figure stepped into the light, and I couldn’t help but gasp and back away: it had black eyes and their hair was white, as well as their skin, and had an amused look “What mess have you dragged yourself with your kindness, Helga?”

“My new apprentice, Lady Henriette of Wessex.”

I quickly curtsied again “Forgive me if we have disturbed your peace, Your Highness. We shall be on our way soon.”

Their eyes loomed over me, as if they were analysing me, then looked at Helga “Another Muggle, I take?”

“Excuse me?” I blurted out before I could process it.

“It is a term to reference those who had grown up outside the magical world.” Helga quickly explained.

“Besides,” Betwixt added “I am not the one to insult beautiful ladies I’ve just met. If so, I should be offended.” He was surely teasing me.

“Forgive me for my ignorance.”

They waved a hand “It’s alright, love. You couldn’t have known. By your looks, it’s been less than three days in this world. But something tells me that you shall learn.”

“I shall make Lady Hufflepuff proud.”

The Portkey opened and Helga gave the creature a bag of silver coins “I shall not forget this favour, Your Highness.”

We both passed through the Portkey and, when the journey was over, we found ourselves in a tower. If I looked hard enough, I could see other three towers a few days away. Helga turned around and smiled “Welcome to my home! And your home until your parents finds you, which should take a while.”

It was a tower of gold and orange, in which many animals and many other servants and magicians practising. It was full of life, of laughter and joy. But for a moment, my gut told me that it was too good to be true, and keep my guard for a little longer.

Tragically, I was right, for I’d find out that a war was brewing.

[cryptidcalling]

Just imaging Vesper in hanfu <3

[cluescorner]

Arlecchino's whole deal is unbelievable

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder what's causing my weird powers? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta become King and then kill my "Mother".

*Kills Clervie and "Mother"*

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I was able to defeat a Fatui Harbinger when I'm like 17 or so? I can't really worry about that right now tho, I've gotta be in jail and become a Harbinger.

*Is in jail for a while and becomes a Harbinger*

Arlecchino: Huh I wonder why I am-

Pierro: Hey what's up hello, anyways you're descended from the Crimson Moon Dynasty of Khaenri'ah. I'm sure that this is a lot for you to take in so-

Arlecchino: Ok.

Pierro: ...You're just cool with that?

Arlecchino: IDK maybe? I can't really worry about that at the moment, I'm a father now. This orphanage full of children I love (who also are child soldiers and are not allowed to leave or else I'll execute them except maybe now I'm just gonna wipe their memories IDK I'm morally complex) isn't gonna run itself.

*Runs the orphanage/spy recruitment initiative*

Me, the fucking player: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE KHAENRI'AN? WHY WASN'T THIS BROUGHT UP IN YOUR FUCKING QUEST?? OR ANYTHING ELSE????

Arlecchino, talking to me through my phone: I honestly don't know why you care, I'm too busy to give a shit. Anyways, I'm gonna go fight fate itself I guess. I'm sure that I don't share any thematic parallels with any other Khaenri'an characters (particularly as it relates to acting and family angst) and that I haven't made the idea of 'curses' on Khaenri'ans and what they entail even more complicated than they already were. See ya.

[bijouxcarys]

Caught this moment of Solo being a menace 🥰🥰

[tiny-librarian]

On September 2nd, in 44 B.C. Cleopatra VII named her then three year old son by Caesar the King of Egypt and her co ruler. After Caesar’s murder on the infamous “Ides of March”, the Egyptian Royal Family had fled from Rome for their safety and returned home to Alexandria. Pregnant with their second child at the time of Caesar’s death, Cleopatra miscarried the child sometime during the flight or shortly after.

Her half brother/husband, Ptolemy XIV, died sometime after July 26, 44 BC, which is the date of the last known inscription that mentions him being alive. He would have been about 17 at the time, and of an age to take an active role in ruling, which is something Cleopatra wouldn’t have wanted. It is often thought, though un-proven, that she had the young Ptolemy killed so she could replace him on the throne with her son and Caesar’s only living biological child.

The new King was officially known as Ptolemy XV Philopator Philometor Caesar,  with an additional set of Egyptian Names, though he most often went by the nickname of Caesarion. Because of his young age at the time, he was King in name only and his mother kept all real authority to herself

[nemainofthewater]

Fists raised, swords ready, it's time to fight-

Oh hold on. What's that delicious smell?

Can we call a meal break?

The contestants of this poll could probably open a restaurant. A couple of them have, before the plot dragged them back in. All I know is that watching them cook make me very hungry.

*a web novel with an English translation here. I recommend it wholeheartedly especially if you enjoy Guardian. (Modern with superpowers, danmei)

**the web novel that took over my life for the past few weeks. An English translation can be found here. I also recommend it wholeheartedly, excellent worldbuilding, plotting, and characters. (Xianxia, danmei)

Propaganda, examples, and write-ins absolutely welcome!