#aeduan

[lilithsaur]

Safi+Merik

Iseult+Aeduan

[tealeavesand-roses]

Status: read Rating: 4.5/5 🌟🌟🌟🌟✨

Truthwitch by Susan Dennard (The Witchlands, #1) 🗡️👁️📜🫴🏻🧵 It's a travesty that I was unaware of this series until recently. I just finished the first book, and I'm hooked—wow. Dennard's world-building in the Witchland Series is intricate, beautiful, and, above all, magical.

Truthwitch by Susan Dennard is the first book in the Witchlands series. It is a story about two unregistered witches, Safiyah, a truthwitch, and Iseult, a threadwitch, who are on the run from various opposers, such as empires and mercenaries. Both Safi and Iseult must navigate a tense and scary political landscape. Along the way, they encounter allies and foes, including Prince Merik, a windwitch, and the bloodwitch Aeduen.

To give a little backstory, I had begun rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender, and as with every rewatch of Avatar, my heart swooned for Zutara. Listen, the first season came out when I was 13; I fell hard for Zuko and never looked back. I also immediately questioned why he and Katara didn't end up together once the series concluded, as their chemistry and scenes were *chef's kiss* 🤌🏼. Moving on, I wanted to know if any books/series exuded similar ATLA attributes/were identical in any way. I ended up finding A Clockwork Reader's BookTube video that recommended books for fans of the Avatar: The Last Airbender series. Thus, I was introduced to the Witchlands series. 🌬️ Side note, I love that A Clockwork Reader is a shameless fan of Zutara like myself, and she mentioned how she got a chance to chat with the author, Susan Dennard, and apparently, two characters in the series were inspired by the dynamic between Katara and Zuko, which of course piqued my interest even more.

⭐️⭐️SLIGHT SPOILER⭐️⭐️

Overall, I loved this book! I haven't read a YA fantasy in a while, but it's such a good read. I'm starting book two next week; I'm swamped with homework, so I need to put that first 🙃 Also, um, I'm sorry, the phrase Aeduan said to Iseult in her native tongue quite literally tugged at my heartstrings and nearly brought me to my knees. Like-are you kidding me?! I gasped when she divulged what the phrase meant, like...that's something heartmates say to each other, not a girl you swore you'd kill the next time you'd cross paths. Lmao. They've had such minimal interactions, but I'm obsessed with them.

[slumbering-shadows]

I think my favorite thing about Aeduan and Iseult is that they are obviously head over heels for eachother but neither of them has any frame of reference for those feelings so they're just ????? at all times. they're basically the "what was that?" "affection" "disgusting. do it again." meme

[dark-giver]

Iseult, about Aeduan: he was the best guy arouuund

Safi: what about the people he murdered

Iseult: what murdaaaa

[starlightfireflies]

heart-threads

written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt: FFF255; in the heart fandom: witchlands–first time writing for it! warnings: none word count: 613

The moon rises above a shimmering Origin Well, glowing with the tone of dying embers, the remnants of the element it represents.

The wind brushes past Aeduan’s hair. It pulses against his clothes, free to buffet his back by the lack of his salamander cloak to protect him against its bite.

He stares at the waters of the Well and thinks about before. Before the Truthwitch, before the hunt, before her. He wonders what the Aeduan entrenched in Veñaza City would think of the Aeduan who stands in the reflection.

Something snaps behind him. Leaves stir.

The footsteps of Iseult det Midenzi are as light as they were months ago. There is something whisper-soft about the way she wanders over to him, as if merely noticing him alone.

“I thought I’d find you out here,” she says lightly. She moves to stand beside Aeduan. Solid. Unyielding. 

He turns away from her. “Not many people will tolerate a Bloodwitch.”

And for good reason. He is the monster lurking in their nightmares, the one who stands in dark corners with outstretched fingers and the power of the Void. It does not matter to the revelers he is a man. It does not matter to them he knows, intimately, truly, what it is like to be one.

Iseult hums, low in her throat. “Just because they do not speak to you does not mean they do not want you there.” Slender fingers meet Aeduan’s. “All the others want you returned.”

Aedaun turns his head to her. “All of them?” he asks, because he is certain the prince of Nubrevna does not think so highly of him. Empress Vaness probably doesn’t either, for that matter, and he’d rather not take a guess at the Cartorrans and how they feel. “I feel there are many among them—your Threadsister included—who prefer the company of others.”

As always, the mention of Safi sends a glint spiraling through Iseult’s eyes. “Maybe it was just me who wanted you back.”

Aeduan tries not to think too much about her words.

But there is a Heart-Thread looming above them, wrapping delicate tendrils around the Loom of their lives. It does not matter, not anymore, that Iseult cannot see either of their Threads. 

“I wouldn’t want to be inside either,” Iseult says, suddenly. Her fingers send pricks of lightning up Aeduan’s arm as she curls her hand around his. He will never tire of her touch, he thinks, yet he cannot bring himself to meet her hold.

Iseult’s gaze is fixed upon the Origin Well’s shimmer. Her fingers press in, ever so slightly.

“What—what are you thinking about?” Bringing the words to the surface takes less energy than Aeduan thought it would.

Her eyes flash, momentarily, with surprise. “Only about the Aether Well. Where I first saw…first saw our Heart-Thread.” She gives him a lightning-quick glance. “I wonder if going into the Fire Well would allow me to see it again.”

Once again, the Heart-Thread hovers. It is a reminder. But it is also a choice.

So Aeduan squeezes Iseult’s hand back. “I have no doubt the empress would not be pleased with you if you returned to her party sopping wet.”

“Safi would cover for me.”

“Safiya is a fool.”

“Safi is a competent fool.” 

They lapse into silence, but it is comfortable. Which is odd to think about, because every one of Iseult’s quiet moments are comfortable. Safe.

“We can stay out here, if you want,” says Iseult.

“That would be nice.”

And thought Aeduan cannot see their Heart-Thread, it is glowing, twining, letting Aeduan know, for the first time, he is not alone under a darkening sky.

[oncesneverenough]

Aeduan did the Darcy hand flex. I repeat. The Darcy hand flex.

“He took a moment to answer, his hand flexing, as if she’d squeezed too tight.”

- Windwitch, Susan Dennard

[katewibberlystan]

I’m always gonna make me specific memes

[eilonwiiy]

Bookends ; A Witchlands AU

Chapter 13

After spotting Iseult with Leopold at the library, Aeduan has decided to walk away from their tentative friendship. But a weekend with his sisters (and the impending doom of Valentine's Day) puts his resolve to the test...

Summary: Iseult det Midenzi never expected to go to a top university, so when her mother falls ill and she is forced to drop out to make ends meet, life has never seemed so unfair. But when she starts working at the local library and is unexpectedly assigned in the Children’s Room, a certain monosyllabic man and his thrice-damned demon child start showing up and Iseult begins to wonder if the threads of fate have a plan for her after all.

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Ships: Iseult/Aeduan, Safi/Merik, and more… stay tuned!

Tags: modern AU, college setting, family, friendship, humor, fluff, slow-burn, romance, eventual smut

Read on AO3: here

*   .   *   .   *   .   *   .

From inside the car, Aeduan felt as much as heard the muffled thud of the trunk being closed.  A moment later, the passenger door swung open and Libset and Cora piled into the backseat, wearing matching school uniforms that were barely visible under heavy winter coats.  

“Do you have everything?” Aeduan asked, closing the book he’d been reading and setting it on the seat beside him. 

“Oh it’s nice and warm in here,” Lisbet said a little out of breath.  She tugged at her seatbelt and snapped the buckle into place.  “Yes, we have everything.”  

“Sketchbook?” Aeduan asked.

“Yes.”

“Colored pencils?”

“Yes.”

“Snow pants?”

“Yes.”

“Extra socks?”

“Yes.”

“Pickles and Rook?”

“Yes!” Lisbet and Cora replied in unison. 

Aeduan twisted around to look at his sisters.  After picking them up from school, they’d stopped at their house long enough for them to grab their belongings for the weekend.  Owl, nestled between them in her car seat, was still napping from the car ride to Ponzin.

“You’re sure you have everything?” Aeduan pressed a third time.  As he said this, his gaze lingered on Cora.  Once, she’d forgotten to pack her favorite pair of pajamas and Aeduan would never forget the shitstorm that followed.  However, today Cora only flashed him a toothy smile and nodded, hugging her stuffed elephant to her chest. 

Aeduan looked at Lisbet for confirmation.  She nodded.

He turned forward in his seat and soon they were pulling onto the sleepy street his childhood home lived on.  He glanced in the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of the climbing rose growing on the side of the house.  Once upon a time it would blossom with roses, white with the faintest tinge of pink, its vines climbing higher and higher with every passing year so that its limbs eventually reached the window to Aeduan’s bedroom.  

Then his mother died.  Now it clung to the side of the house like a long-legged spider, naked and dead.  

“He wasn’t home,” Lisbet said as they passed Covent Academy.  Less than 20 minutes ago the place had been swarming with children, the air thrumming with excitement for the weekend, while cars sat bumper to bumper on both sides of the road.  Now all that was left was a tangled web of footprints immortalized on the snowy lawn and a few cars sitting in the teachers’ parking lot.  Lisbet waved to the familiar crossing guard packing up their gear into the trunk of his little hatchback.  He stopped, freeing a hand to tip his baseball cap in recognition.  

“Da works in Tirla on Fridays now.”  

“I know,” Aeduan gruffed out, though in truth he had not.  Lisbet said nothing else and Cora pounced on the opportunity to chatter away about her friend Marta and a game they had invented at recess.  Aeduan half-listened while the rest of him went through the motions of piloting the car home.  

Ragnor.  This was probably the longest Aeduan had gone without seeing his father.  It didn’t take much maneuvering on his part to avoid crossing paths (Ragnor made it easy by never being around), but what was less easy to avoid was the matter of his own absence, not when he shared his father with two other people.  For as long as Lisbet and Cora had been alive, they’d all lived under the same roof together.  Until, suddenly, they didn’t.  

“Do you have glitter?”

Aeduan blinked out at the highway, having lost track of the conversation.  “Do I have - ?”

“Glitter.”  The word came out hushed, almost reverent, even in Cora’s eight-year-old voice.  “I need it for my valentines.”

His sisters had made it very clear that their weekend plans would require craft supplies - not exactly something he kept on hand.  Owl hadn’t yet expressed an interest in expanding her artistic palette beyond coloring (thank god) and as for Aeduan, even with swaths of free time at his disposal, he had not been hit with the sudden realization that the solution to all his problems lay in a cross stitch.  His life may have detoured to new lows as of late, but he wasn’t that far gone.  

As far as he was concerned, February 14th was just another day in the year.  It took little effort on his part to ignore its existence, just another one of the many benefits of reaching adulthood.  When he was a kid he had no say in the matter.  He’d been forced to participate in every inane ritual the holiday called for, including handing out valentines to all of his classmates whether he liked them or not.  That kind of public humiliation was far behind him, but thanks to the exploitations of corporate capitalists everywhere, the spirit of St. Valentine was still very much alive, and unlike him, Cora and Lisbet were more than happy to participate in the annual brainwashing. 

“You’re eight,” Aeduan had said over the phone the night before when Cora finished rattling off her list of demands.  “How many valentines could you possibly need to make?”

“I have a lot of friends,” Cora had informed him matter-of-factly.  Then she’d asked, “How many friends do you have?”  

And so ended further discussion and Aeduan reluctantly resolved to stop at the nearest arts and crafts store before picking them up from school.  Currently, a sizable chunk of the store’s inventory sat in the trunk of his car, though there was one notable exception.  

“I didn’t get any glitter,” Aeduan said.  Cora’s crestfallen gasp was an arrow to his heart, but he otherwise managed to look diffident.  

“But my cards!”

“They’ll be full of just as much love with or without them,” Lisbet consoled her sagely before Aeduan could say anything.  

This was not what Cora wanted to hear.  She squeezed Pickles tight and directed a pouty glare to the window.  Aeduan reached next to him for a paper bag sitting in the passenger’s seat.  He passed it to the backseat.  “Sulk or snack?  Your choice.”

Cora only held Pickles tighter, expression deepening into a scowl that could rival Owl’s.

“She can do both,” Lisbet said, taking the bag and opening it in her lap.  “Oh.”

Aeduan glanced over his shoulder.  “What?”

“You got donuts.” 

“You like donuts.”

“I know I do.”  Lisbet pulled out a rainbow sprinkled donut and took a bite.  She chewed it slowly, like she was trying to deduce its molecular makeup from a single taste.  Then, “Did something happen to Jitters?”

Aeduan’s foot tapped down on the gas pedal and he pulled ahead of the station wagon in the lane next to them before veering smoothly into the open road in front of them.

“No.”

“This is the second time you’ve gotten donuts.”

The station wagon’s horn blared.  Aeduan sped up.  70 mph.  80.   

“You usually get Jitters on Fridays.”

“If you don’t want donuts anymore, just say so,” Aeduan said, lifting his gaze to the rearview mirror and giving Lisbet a formidable look that immediately transformed him into their father.  Lisbet barely noticed.  She picked at the sprinkles on her donut, imparting a pensive hm for him to ponder over.  

Aeduan knew that hm.  It belonged to his father and, by the laws of genetics or overexposure, it had been passed down to him.  Lisbet was far too young to be using it.  He jabbed a knob on the dashboard and music flowed from the speakers.  Aeduan recognized the song though he did not know the band.  It sounded like every other generic pop anthem played on the radio - soulless, but just catchy enough to get stuck in your head for hours after hearing it.  They rode the rest of the journey in silence save for the radio, each song bleeding into each other, as indistinguishable as the next, until the familiar skyline of Venaza City appeared.   

“Can we stop at the library?” Lisbet asked. 

Aeduan had to work to stop himself from visibly bristling.  He kept his eyes fixed on the car in front of them, a battered winnebago.  Thick exhaust clouds billowed out of its tailpipe, the engine rattled. 

“What do you need at the library?” he asked.

“A book.”

“Why didn’t you bring something from home?”  Aeduan’s next exhale came out heavy with irritation.  “I asked if you had everything you needed for the weekend before we left, Lis.”

“I’ve read all my books.”

Aeduan didn’t say anything at first.  It was a solid explanation.  She was an even more avid reader than he had been at her age, though her insatiable appetite for make-believe stories was thankfully less tragic than his at the time.  Aeduan rapped his fingers along the steering wheel. 

“Won’t you be busy making your valentines?” he asked, attempting to appeal to her with reason.  “I was led to believe you two had lots of friends.”  He eyed Cora in the mirror and caught the tiniest curl of a smile partially hidden behind Pickles’ big ears.  Lisbet, on the other hand, frowned.  

“Why can’t we just stop there on the way home?”

Why indeed.  

A week had passed since Aeduan had last seen Iseult and, to his annoyance, even less time since she’d crossed his thoughts, never failing to have Leopold fon Cartorra rudely in tow.  He didn’t know what he hated more.  The possibility that Iseult may share something with a moronic halfwit such as Leopold or how the plausibility of that possibility made him feel.  In the end, it didn’t matter.  He had decided to keep his distance, and with that choice came a strangely freeing sense of relief.  At first, he’d been angry with himself for resorting to such drastic action.  But then he’d realized what an unnecessary weight it’d been to carry around, that warring feeling he felt whenever he saw Iseult.  He barely knew her, and yet, she loomed so big in his thoughts.  It was too much.  Aeduan didn’t have room for her.  He had enough problems in his life, real problems.  Like finding a new source of income (he couldn’t stay unemployed forever) or what he would do if the adoption fell through (he never let himself entertain this scenario for too long).  Letting go of what he could only describe as a tentative friendship at best was the sensible choice.

But Aeduan wasn’t about to share any of this with Lisbet or Cora.  He was an adult.  He’d earned the right to not have his life choices analyzed by his little sisters, and someday when Lisbet grew up, she’d earn that right too.  He did not want to go to the library.  Therefore, he would not go to the library.   

“Let’s just go home,” he finally said.

From the rearview mirror, Aeduan saw that Lisbet was giving him a strange look.  

“What?” he demanded.  

“You’re being weird.” 

“Thanks,” Aeduan deadpanned.  She’d have to be a lot more imaginative than that to put a dent in his ego. 

“I don’t get why we can’t stop there,” Lisbet trudged on.  She waved a hand at the window, the storefronts lining the street leading to the city square slowly passing by.  “It’s not like it’s out of the way.”

“I’m the one driving.  I’ll tell you whether or not it’s out of the way.”

“We’re literally going to pass it in 10 seconds.”

“Lis.”

“I’ll be quick.”

The winnebago in front of them came to a sudden stop and Aeduan slammed his foot down on the brakes.  The car jolted forward, startling Cora and waking Owl.  Honks of outrage immediately sounded off behind them.  Lisbet only stared at the reflection of Aeduan in the rearview mirror, an unmistakable challenge in her bright, pale eyes.  Aeduan could feel the traitorous way his heart was racing.  He tried to tell himself it was from the near accident he’d almost gotten them in.

“Fine,” Aeduan gritted out, sounding like he was using a very different f-word.  

Lisbet leaned back in her seat, smug satisfaction written all over her face.  Tugging sharply on the steering wheel, Aeduan swerved the car around the winnebago, sending a venomous look to its driver as they passed.  

He didn’t feel much like the adult anymore.

[everythingunderthestarsthings]

Heyyy everyone!

I love reading books but never seem to have a bookmark. I can actually remember the page numbers where I stop reading and have no problem going back to the correct page, but bookmarks are fun!

And though it's a very simple one, I made a bookmark for myself with my absolute favourite phrases from the Witchlands series by Susan Dennard!

[purplehair-and-starrgazingeyes]

So, hey everyone. I wrote a fic for a new fandom I fell in love with.

This is such a lovely ship and I hope yall enjoy it!

Let me know what yall think?

[dadplagg-mamatikki]

For ML folks: Think BloodBender Katara. Can also heal oneself. Direct blood to heart and muscles to make them go faster (only the bloodwitch, not anyone else). Can track someone based on their blood scent. (Do you witchland folks think this is accurate description of his powers?)

For The Witchlands folks: what do you think would help Aeduan the most?

[thebitchlands]

Round 2 Match 5

Let's go lesbians

[slumbering-shadows]

After two books of being nerfed if I don't get to see Aeduan kick some serious ass in Witchlight I will explode btw

[dark-giver]

Iseult, telling Safi that Aeduan is attractive:

Iseult: finance

Safi: what

Iseult: trust fund

Safi: I'm sure that he doesn't have a trust fund Iz

Iseult: 6'5

Safi: oh please he is not 6'5... right?

Iseult: blue eyes

Safi: they are red almost all the time Iseult

Iseult: FINANCE, TRUST FUND, 6'5, BLUE EYES

Safi, whispering: goodness have mercy

[lottiesoka]

Safi, Merik, Iseult, and Aeduan from Susan Dennard’s Truthwitch (and her Witchlands series in general)

[baratheon]

When you're not around outsiders or your casteless girlfriend so you slur the Poors with your sister, whom you got exiled.

Bhelen with a non-dwarf Warden vs Bhelen with an Aeducan is always a trip. Even apart from the obvious dialogue differences, he's just so much more blunt with his sibling.