#also i love how everything surrounding purgatory is just so gay

[pocketseizure]

Between Worlds

Hilda and Zelda have their differences, but in both of their worlds it’s always been said that opposites attract. Zelda travels to Lorule to ask for advice regarding a strategy to prevent Ganon’s eventual return, but that’s not the only reason she wants to see Hilda again.

Hilda/Zelda * 3,300 words * (Also on AO3) * Rated “Teen” for cute gay fluff

* * * * *

Hilda paced back and forth across her small study, picking things up and putting them down. Now that the Triforce had returned to Lorule, the sun rose and set at regular hours. This took some getting used to, the steady progression of time. The seasons were changing as well, with the eternal chill of fall finally giving way to the bright starry skies of winter and now the first budding trees of spring.

Even with the blessings of the new Triforce, resources in Lorule were limited. For Hilda, every day brought new challenges. How could she direct what was most needed to the right place in order to do the most good? Theft and banditry had to be taken into account, of course – Lorule wouldn’t change in a few months, or even a few years. But Hilda was doing her best, and if she sometimes had to play a little dirty to get things done, the ends always justified the means.

“Hilda!”

Hilda turned sharply toward the sound of the voice calling her name, but there was nothing there, just an old mirror. The silver frame had recently been polished to a high sheen, but the glass had grown cloudy long ago. She thought she could see a faint stir of movement within the still surface, but it was probably nothing more than her overburdened mind playing tricks on her.

Hilda wasn’t used to being surrounded by comfort, much less opulence. She had always taken the utmost care with her appearance, knowing the effect her silks and jewels had on those she commanded, but her living quarters were another story altogether. Simply put, the exterior of her castle was far more politically strategic than her bed linen.

Ravio had insisted, however. Nayru only knew where he got the rupees, but he paid for everything without telling her. Between one day and the next, the broken windows of her study were repaired, the warped floorboards damaged by the tempests that periodically blew through the upper reaches of the castle were replaced, and even the moldy fabric of the divan in her sitting room had been reupholstered.

“Hilda, are you there?”

Hilda put down the book she had been holding and looked closely at the mirror. There was still nothing there, just her own hazy image. Light from the setting sun shone directly onto the glass through the tower’s western window. She had left it open to let in some air, and the delicate lace curtains that bordered the window trembled slightly in the breeze. Behind her reflection she could see her wall of bookcases, where all of the volumes that had been lost through the years had been replaced and meticulously arranged in an eye-pleasing array.

The taste that informed these renovations was exquisite, which is how Hilda realized that Ravio had not been operating on his own. She had Yuga to thank for the beauty of her quarters. She still didn’t trust him fully – she never had and probably never would – but she couldn’t deny that he was a useful man to have in her employ. If nothing else, he had a keen eye for details that would otherwise go overlooked. “Everything must be perfect, Your Grace,” he was in the habit of saying, “as exquisitely perfect as your face.”

“Hilda!” the voice called out again. “Can you see me?”

Hilda realized that she recognized the voice. If she wasn't mistaken, it was Zelda. But how...?

She approached the mirror to take a closer look. It was only when her nose was almost touching the glass that she was able to see Zelda’s face smiling back at her.

“Give me a hand, will you?” Zelda requested as she pressed her palm against her side of the mirror. Not knowing what else to do, Hilda placed her hand against Zelda’s. She felt an odd tingling sensation in her fingers, and then Zelda was in the room with her, tumbling into her arms.

Hilda caught her, and Zelda hugged her tightly. “It actually worked!” she exclaimed, laughing.

Hilda pushed Zelda away, frowning as she held her by the shoulders. She was happy to see her; she couldn’t help it. In fact, she’d been thinking about Hyrule and its princess more than she’d like to admit, especially after the calamity that had almost befallen them because of her selfishness and lack of foresight. As much as it gladdened her heart to see Zelda standing in front of her, Hilda was certain that Zelda wouldn’t go through the trouble of coming to Lorule unless her kingdom were in grave danger.

“Zelda? What’s wrong?” she asked. “What happened?”

Zelda's smile faltered briefly but then burst back onto her face. “Everything’s fine! I just wanted to see you again.”

“That’s it? You created a portal into my world… for a social call?”

Zelda nodded vigorously. “That’s right! Well, that, and I read about this spell in an old book. Apparently, mirrors have been used as gateways between worlds before, and I wanted to try it out for myself. Just think, now we can see each other whenever we want.”

Hilda didn’t believe that Zelda was lying, exactly, but she still doubted her motives. It had been months since she had returned to her kingdom. Why had she suddenly decided to visit Lorule?

“Are you sure that's the only reason why you're here?” Hilda asked.

“Well...” Zelda chuckled sheepishly and looked away. “I actually came to ask for your advice about something. I really like what you've done with your study, by the way.”

“This is all Yuga’s doing,” Hilda responded dryly.

“That’s... That’s actually what I came to ask you about!”

“Yuga? What about him?”

“Well...” Zelda steepled her fingers together and then intertwined them, which was the closest thing she had to a nervous tic. She caught Hilda watching her and blushed, pale pink roses blooming on her cheeks. Lovely Zelda, Hilda couldn’t stop herself from thinking.

“I wasn't able to see Link's battle against Yuga, since, well...”

“Since you were trapped in a painting, yes,” Hilda finished for her, wanting to move past the unpleasant truth as quickly as possible.

“But I was fairly certain that Link struck him down. He must have, if the Triforce of Power returned to us. You could have allowed him to die, but you didn't. Why not?”

Why not indeed. Hilda had often wondered about this herself.

“Yuga is a pretentious, swaggering mass of rudeness and insults, but he's intelligent and efficient, which is why I allowed him to enter my service in the first place,” Hilda replied. “I thought it would be better to keep him in my sight than to let him roam free, and I reasoned that I could put his various talents to good use. And he was loyal, for the most part. He was only acting according to my orders when I sent him to Hyrule, and it was I who allowed him to be corrupted by the power of the Triforce. None of this would have happened if it weren't for me, so...”

Hilda found herself at a loss for words, unable to articulate what she was trying to say. She was also, strangely enough, on the verge of tears.

“So you forgave Yuga because you wanted to be forgiven yourself?” Zelda offered.

“Something like that, yes,” Hilda admitted, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“I never blamed you for anything, you know,” Zelda said softly, taking one of Hilda’s hands in both of hers. “I think I might even have done the same thing if I were in your situation. Which is why…”

Zelda squeezed Hilda’s hand before releasing it. “Do you mind if I sit down?” she asked.

“Of course,” Hilda answered, concerned. “If you don’t mind, let’s go to my sitting room. It’s just…” Hilda gestured toward the doorway, and Zelda nodded. Of course Zelda already knew where her sitting room was; there was no reason to tell her.

“Thank you,” Zelda said gratefully. She left the study, and Hilda followed along behind her.

“Why, this is lovely!” Zelda said appreciatively. “It’s completely changed from how I remember it! Things have really improved here, haven’t they?”

“They have, and they haven’t,” Hilda replied. “Change is gradual, but I like to think we’re on the right path now. As for this room, it’s more of Yuga’s handiwork, and Ravio only encourages him.”

“They must really care about you,” Zelda observed.

Hilda made a noncommittal sound, and Zelda fell silent as she sat on the newly reupholstered divan. She took her time adjusting the skirt of her dress before smoothing it down. She started to steeple her fingers again, caught herself doing it, and then folded her hands neatly in her lap.

So something was going on in Hyrule after all, Hilda mused. Zelda had said that she never blamed her, but that couldn’t possibly be true, not after all the trouble she’d caused. Hilda took a deep breath as she walked to Zelda and sat down beside her. She didn’t know if she would be able to make things right between them, but she would have to try.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind,” Hilda invited, laying one of her hands over Zelda’s.

“It’s… It’s about Ganon,” Zelda muttered, stumbling over her words. “I’ve been thinking, and… Well, was it the right thing to do? To kill him?”

“Of course it was the right thing to do!” Hilda exclaimed. “Ganon is nothing more than a mindless beast! A monster! Think of what he almost did to Hyrule!”

“But you forgave Yuga, and…”

“Yuga is useful to me. I didn’t spare his life out of compassion, and I certainly didn’t forgive him. He owes me an enormous debt, and I intend to make him pay it. Simply put, Yuga is a tool. Nothing more.”

“And Ravio? Is Ravio a tool?”

“Ravio is a friend. Perhaps the only one I have.”

“I wish you would consider me your friend.”

“Then I will. So, as your friend, I want to know why you’re so concerned about Ganon.”

Zelda sighed. “Whatever Ganon is, or whatever he did, it just doesn’t seem fair to keep him in an eternal state of purgatory, especially not when he can be summoned back to life by whoever performs the ritual. It’s not fair to Hyrule to have such a dangerous threat lurking in the shadows, and it’s not fair to Ganon to be punished like that, just for wanting the Triforce for himself.”

Hilda suddenly understood what Zelda was implying; the parallel was as clear as crystal.

“What are you suggesting?” she asked, unable to keep her voice from trembling.

“While I was in that painting, I thought a lot about Hyrule and its legends, and since then I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on. I think it may be possible that, if it weren’t for Ganon, then Lorule wouldn’t exist. It was called ‘the Dark World’ before it was purified by the hero of a former age, but it’s been written that the Triforce created Lorule as a reflection of Ganon’s heart. And, you know, it’s not so bad here. It’s beautiful, in its own way. I mean, if it weren’t for Ganon, then I never would have met you…”

Hilda had read the same theory of Lorule’s origin in various places herself. It wasn’t common knowledge, however, and she intended to keep it that way. It bothered her that Zelda now knew what may just be one of Lorule’s darkest secrets, if it was indeed true. She suppressed her earlier burst of emotion with the force of her will and turned a sharp gaze on Zelda.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” she said, “but what use is Ganon to you?”

“What… What use is he?” Zelda repeated, appearing not to have understood her question.

“If Ganon isn’t of some use to you, then why go through the trouble to summon him? Because I can assure you, what you’re proposing to do sounds like nothing but trouble.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it in those terms,” Zelda admitted. “I was just thinking that we could keep him in the Eastern Palace, or in the Desert Palace if that would make him happier, and then just… I don’t know, let him die of old age, I guess. And then there would be no more Ganon for people to go around resurrecting. Or he couldn’t resurrect himself, which is an even more frightening prospect…” Zelda shook her head. “But I wasn’t thinking about how this could benefit me personally. I suppose it would be good for Link. He’s been getting restless, and I worry about him. If the old stories are true, the last hero left Hyrule. He was full of regret, and he always worried that evil would return, so he set out for foreign lands and never came back. But maybe, if Link had something worthwhile to do…”

“So you’re going to resurrect Ganon just to keep Link close to you?” Hilda demanded. She was suddenly furious. Did this mean that Zelda had come all the way to Lorule to ask for advice about trouble with some boy? Even if that boy was the hero of legend, that was nothing short of pathetic, and she couldn’t contain her disappointment.

“Oh Hilda, no,” Zelda assured her, shaking her head earnestly. “This isn’t about Link at all, but… The idea of him keeping Ganon as a pet is a little amusing, you have to admit.”

Hilda allowed herself to smile, but it was bitter. Lovely Zelda, always managing to see the bright side of any situation and always assuming the best of people, even when she knew they were being difficult. Hilda tried so hard to keep her own emotions hidden, but she couldn’t help pushing back against Zelda’s positivity just a little. She knew that she should take Zelda at her word, and she knew she was ruining a perfectly fine conversation by expressing her jealousy, but she did it anyway.

“Well, I just wanted to be sure,” Hilda said breezily, as if the matter didn’t concern her at all. “Because all sorts of rumors make their way to the castle, and I heard something interesting before I even met you. Did you know that people say that you used to leave your room every night to visit the portrait gallery of your castle? They said you would stand in front of the painting of the hero saving the princess. Who knows, maybe you have fantasies about your own hero?”

Zelda giggled in response. “That’s true! That’s absolutely true. I did used to do that. But let me tell you a secret – I always thought the hero in the painting was a girl. I mean, the hero wore their tunic like a skirt, with no pants on underneath, and they had such long and lovely pink hair. It was silly, but I had a huge crush on them! And then, when I started having nightmares about Ganon, I would actually see Link in my dreams. I knew who he was, and I knew that he would become the hero, and it made me a little sad. So when I woke up in the middle of the night, I would go out and look at the painting and hope that, even if I was kidnapped, I would get to meet at least one cute girl along the way.”

“And you know…” Zelda continued with a sly grin, “I helped to spread that rumor myself. I found out that one of my night maids liked to gossip, so I made sure that someone tipped her off, and then I waited until she was awake and able to follow me so that she could see me for herself. I was actually hoping that someone would figure out my secret.”

Hilda stared at her. Was Zelda really saying what she thought she was saying?

“Come on Hilda,” Zelda pleaded, squeezing her hand. “Aren’t you a little glad to see me?”

Hilda turned away. “You came to ask for my advice about Ganon, and here it is: leave that monster alone,” she said, blushing furiously.

“I’ll think about it,” Zelda promised. “I haven’t decided anything yet, though. I still need to do a lot of research. I imagine I’ll have to come back to ask for more advice as things progress. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

Hilda slid one of her hands out from under Zelda’s to adjust her hair. Just like Zelda’s steepled fingers, it was her own nervous tic, and she hadn’t done it in years.

“That would be fine, I guess,” Hilda muttered. “I do know a thing or two about monsters, after all.”

“Thank you for saying that! I’m so happy!” Zelda exclaimed. A bright smile spread across her face, and her eyes sparkled with genuine joy.

To Hilda, it seemed almost too good to be true that the princess she had admired from a distance and then admired as a painting would be sitting right next to her, telling her that it made her happy to have an excuse to spend time with her.

“I’m just sorry that I can’t be the hero you were hoping to find on your adventure,” Hilda said with a faint smile.

“Oh, but you were,” Zelda murmured before she leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips were soft and warm, and her skin smelled like sunshine.

Zelda smiled as she pulled away, and Hilda could only gaze at her in wonder.

“I was so afraid, when I was stuck in that painting,” Zelda admitted. “I thought I had prepared myself for what it would be like, but nothing can really prepare you for something like that, not even knowing a hero will come to save you. But you stayed with me the whole time, talking to me, telling me about yourself, telling me about Lorule… I could hear everything you said, you know. And while you were looking at me, I was looking back at you. I thought I had never seen anyone more beautiful.”

“I felt the same,” Hilda responded, not believing that she was allowing herself to speak these words aloud.

“Can I kiss you again?” Zelda asked.

“Yes,” Hilda answered. “I think I would like that.”

Zelda leaned forward again and did just that. She took her time, raising her hand to stroke Hilda’s cheek as their lips grew warm with each other’s heat.

“You are a hero, Hilda. You’re the hero who saved Lorule, and I’m so lucky I got to meet you,” Zelda whispered as she broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against Hilda’s. Her breath was as clean and refreshing as rain, and Hilda wanted nothing more than to kiss her again.

“Link’s time as the hero has come to an end, I think,” Zelda continued, “but my story isn’t over yet, and there’s no reason it has to end the same way the last one did. There’s no reason our worlds have to remain divided from one another, and there’s no reason for us to be apart.”

Hilda had once sworn to herself that she would never marry, and she never thought she would ever be kissed. Then again, she never thought her plan to take the Triforce from Hyrule would be successful, or that she would be able keep Lorule from falling apart long enough to be respected as its queen. Her own story had taken an unexpected turn, and there was no use denying the potential benefits of a stronger union with Zelda. If their destinies had become intertwined, then so be it. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve already fallen for her, Hilda thought.

“You’re right,” Hilda agreed, pulling Zelda closer. “No one has ever done this before, but it will be an adventure. And I think it’s about time we got to have an adventure of our own.”

Zelda laughed and then kissed her again, a third time for courage.

[dargons-and-virbs]

Love’s A Bitch

Robby Tailor was your average teenager. He had decent grades, a couple friends, and a family that loved him. He never seemed to cause anyone any problems.

When he was 17, his family moved to a small, rural town in the middle of nowhere. His father worked for a grocery store chain had been asked to help open and run a new store in this tiny town. The thing Robby liked most was that it was quiet.

It didn’t take him long to start making friends with the kids at his new school. One of them in particular drew him in like a magnet. He was cute, kind, and funny, and his name was Jimmy Baker.

Jimmy had invited him to hang out on several occasions, and they were actually getting pretty close. They would go swimming in the creek, ride their bikes around town, go to see movies, and stay up until the wee hours of the morning talking about anything and everything. Robby was falling in love.

One day, though, Jimmy changed. He had decided (or his father decided for him) that he would carry on the family tradition and become a preacher. He started carrying his Bible around everywhere, and started talking about God all the time. It didn’t bother Robby at first, since it was almost always about loving your neighbor and living a life in honor of Christ.

When gay rights movements started cropping up everywhere, though, Jimmy wasn’t as pleasant anymore. He talked about how homosexuality was a sin. Robby loved him anyway.

One day in midsummer, as they sat in the shade of their favorite oak tree after a dip in the creek, Robby decided to test Jimmy’s faith. He knew that Jimmy believed it to be a sin, that they were going to Hell, but he wanted to know more.

He asked his friend what should be done about the homosexuals if they were such a problem. This turned out to be quite the mistake. His heart broke when Jimmy told him the Bible was very clear that they should be put to death. They should be stoned, killed, eradicated, exterminated.

Robby knew that if he hung around, one of two would be hurt. He began distancing himself in the following weeks. Their senior year of high school, they didn’t hang out even once. After graduation, he moved away, never to see the boy he loved again.

Shortly after that, Robby met a sweet girl named Rebecca Waterson. She knew about Robby’s sexuality, but she didn’t care. They took care of each other the best they could.

What she couldn’t do was stop the intense depression he entered in the following years. He started drinking, lost his job, and fell further into despair.

One day in particular marked the worst day of her life. Rebecca came home from the grocery store to find him dead in their living room, with a note in his hand that read, “I’m sorry, darlin’. I just couldn’t take it anymore.” Robby was no longer going to feel the pain of not being with the person he was still so in love with. She prayed that Jimmy Baker would suffer for how he hurt the man who’d been her best friend the last two and a half years. He prayers would be answered, but she never got to see it.

After Robby did himself in, he suddenly found himself in the living room standing beside his freshly deceased body. This would have been the most shocking experience in his life were it not for the very dapper, and incredibly attractive, young man sitting on his sofa.

The young man was in clothes nicer than Robby could’ve afforded even when he had a job. His hair was slicked back and looked as if it were made of gold. Even inside, he wore dark sunglasses, so dark that his eyes couldn’t be seen. As shocking as it was to suddenly have this gorgeous stranger in his house, he was oddly at ease because the man sat with his legs crossed, a gentle smile, and his head turned, looking as if he were lost in thought. Just as Robby began to admire this man, he turned to face the poor soul and his smile grew wider.

“Oh! You’re here,” the blond exclaimed, “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, I’ve just really been looking forward to meeting you.”

Robby was stunned, but that didn’t stop him from asking, “I’m pretty sure I just killed myself while I was alone in my house, and you seem like a nice guy, but who are you?”

“Ooh, uh. Okay. Don’t lose your cool, alright? I’m, uh-“ he used his fingers to mime tiny horns on his head. Having anticipated the panic this would cause, he quickly corrected with, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I’m not here to take you to Hell! Pinky promise!” And the literal, actual Devil held aloft the pinky of his left hand. Humans were just as easy for him to sedate as they were to intimidate. It was kind of his shtick.

Robby was very confused, as we all would be in this situation. “If you’re the Devil, and I’m not going to Hell, then why are you here? Is this some kind of trick?”

Lucifer sighed and recited the same spiel he gave to everyone he ferried to an afterlife of reward and happiness.

“Okay so crazy story: no religion is right, and yet every religion is right. If you live a life of good, one in which you don’t cause other living things undue pain and suffering, I take you upstairs. If you live a neutral life, not going out of your way to wish harm to others but not doing anything to help, I take you to purgatory. Actively cause harm to others with your words or actions with no regard for their feelings or safety, and eternal damnation is your only option. The thing is that since the Abrahamic faiths got popular, more people have gone to Hell, ironic right? So the people who have seen me in near death experiences and weren’t doing so great were mostly Christians, Jews, and Muslims. As a result, I became the Devil. You could call me Death, Charon, Hermes, Hecate, Mercury, Vanth, Daena, et cetera, I just really love the name Lucifer. You can call me Lu.”

By this point Robby had sat in the chair facing the Angel of Death. This was the most insane thing that had ever happened to him. He had no idea whether he should believe this, well, being. Somehow, though, he found himself beginning to trust him anyway.

“So let me get this straight,” Robby began, confused expression on his face, “even though I committed suicide, I’m not going to Hell? Does that mean I’m going to Purgatory, then? I thought you couldn’t get into Heaven if you killed yourself?”

Lu leaned back, stretched his arms on the back of the couch to each side, and adjusted his crossed legs. “Total bullshit. If you kill yourself to escape punishment, yeah. Most suicides are a result of mental disorders or societal pressures, so we don’t punish you for what isn’t your fault. That would be unfair, wouldn’t it?

“Take yourself, for instance. Your suicide was a result of your soulmate telling you that people like you, who don’t have any control over the fact that they are romantically and sexually attracted to the same sex, deserve to be the victims of a genocide backed only by a book that, take it from me, is complete horse shit. It was a political tool to manipulate the masses. Actual Jesus was 100% a good guy, but threw more punches than you’d think and wasn’t quite as divine as you’re lead to believe. He was also gay, they just clipped that part out. No, you’ve never done anything to hurt anyone else. You became an alcoholic but never once did any harm to your wife besides worry her because she cared about you. You even apologized to her in that note your corpse is holding. You’re a good guy, Robby Tailor. I mean that.”

This put Robby at ease. Knowing he wasn’t going to suffer eternal damnation was a weight off his shoulders. Being visibly more relaxed, Lu continued.

“And because you’re such a good guy, I have an offer for you. Most people just get in my car and we get going wherever we need to. The exceptionally good ones get a choice: go to Heaven and live eternal bliss or become a guardian angel and spend your time on Earth watching over a particular individual, and when it is their time to go, we’ll see each other again. We don’t have a long time, but you can take a minute to decide. I know it can be a very difficult decision.”

It could be difficult, indeed, but both Robby and Lu knew what choice would be made as soon as the question was asked. It didn’t take Robby any time at all. He knew exactly what he wanted.

“If I become a guardian angel, can I choose who I watch over?” The answer to this question was very important to Robby. It would determine the afterlife he chose.

Lu gave him a grin and said, “No one ever asks that question, Robby. They just don’t. I think I can count maybe a few thousand in all the time I’ve been doing this. Yes, you can choose. You have someone in mind, so let’s pay a visit before you make that choice, shall we?”

Without any warning, they found themselves in a college classroom. It was the seminary, Robby knew that as soon as he saw the person he wanted to protect.

“It’s funny, really,” said Lu. “No one protects the person who caused them the most pain. If you’re sure about this, then we can move forward.” This was met with a nod.

“Okay, obviously there are rules that must be followed. You are bound to him wherever he goes for the remainder of his life. You’ll know his every thought. You’ll never be more than a few feet away from him. You’ll never sleep. You’ll be allowed to steer him away from dangerous situations 3 times, and you will be allowed 1 miracle to save him, but only that. You will, at any time, be allowed to surround him with your love and warmth or take it away, that is entirely at your discretion, but you will not be able to communicate with him or anyone else until the moment of his passing. Knowing these conditions, Robby Tailor, do you agree to take the role of guardian angel to James Ryan Baker, to protect him until he end of his days?”

Robby Tailor looked the Devil in the eye and said “I accept.”

Lu gave a wide, happy smile and stuck out his left hand, which the new angel gladly shook. “Robby Tailor, I wish you the best. We’ll meet again one day, and I look forward to it.

62 years later, Robby had used 2 of his 3 gentle steerings and exactly zero miracles. He sat on the edge of a hospital bed and placed his hand on his love’s leg, performing his only miracle. Jimmy was given just enough strength to overcome the severe cancer and tell his family that he loved them, and that he hoped to see them in Heaven, then he drifted back to sleep. He would not wake up again. A moment later, in the doorway stood a young man with beautiful gold hair, a sleeveless black shirt, skinny jeans, boots, and heart-shaped sunglasses.

“How’ve you been, Lu? You look different than the last time I saw you.” Robby had genuinely missed the Angel of Death, but was sad that they had to meet under these circumstances.

“I’ve been just fine. I really love these modern gays. They have such interesting fashion.” He got a smile out of the angel across from him. “I know this is going to be heartbreaking to some degree, but you can’t be here when he dies, Robby.”

Robby gave a sad smile. “I kinda figured. So what now?”

The devil walked over and sat in front of him, legs ‘criss cross applesauce’ style, but floating in the air instead of sitting on the ground. “Well, you get to say goodbye, but that’s just closure for you. He won’t know because of his condition. Even if he wasn’t sick, he’s not going anywhere good, so he wouldn’t be entitled to his final goodbye from the person who loved him most anyway. Whether you do or don’t, you get the same choice you had 60 years ago: go to Heaven or remain a guardian angel. Do you have anyone in mind?” They both knew he’d choose the role of protector again. It was part of who he was at the core of his soul.

“I don’t have anyone in particular, but I want to watch over kids who were like me. I want to be there for the boys and girls who can’t help who they love. Even taking care of one kid at a time is better than letting still more of them end up like me. Is that an option?”

“It is. Let’s meet your next charge.”

From then on, until no child had to be afraid because of who they would love, Robby Tailor would protect one child at a time. Every time one of his children would pass (thanks to him it was almost always at an old age), the two angels would greet each other as friends.

[renlyisright]

Season 6 Episode 10: Justice for Everyone, Ex-Sept for Some

WHAT.

Just what. That seems to cover it. What.

Cersei just… but what about… but she… what… okay, one more try.

The episode starts with a shot of the sept of Baelor, and a montage of everyone preparing for the day’s trials. Then the music starts. Oh dear, the music. The foreboding, pling plong music. Cersei has a plan.

And what a plan. It’s very efficient. Put all of your enemies in King’s Landing in one place, then blow that place up. There’s some collateral damage, like the whole court and several districts surrounding the sept, but since those weren’t Jaime or Tommen they don’t matter.

When I figured out that she was going to use wildfire, and it was enough to burn everyone in the sept, the question became “Okay, who is going to get out? Margaery obviously, she had her own plot which we don’t know yet, some other named characters too so this doesn’t end all court politics in King’s Landing… they are not getting out. They are not getting out. High Sparrow, what are you doing? They -” And then it happened.

When you play the game of thrones, you win, or you die.

So many deaths in the span of a second. But I want to acknowledge all of them, so a few words of them all.

Grand Master Pycelle gets his own personal death, when he is called into Qyburn’s gothic cellar. He would have gone to the trial anyway, right? So when Qyburn says that this is nothing personal, and that he has no ill will towards the good old grand maester who has mocked him his entire time in the King’s Landing… he is lying like a cat. He wanted him there, so he could watch him be murdered by children. The realm will be in good hands with this Hand. Pycelle has been such a constant in the show, that him being gone feels weird. Who’s going to look smug, clang around and mutter in the small council meetings now? If there will be any anymore.

Of Lancel Lannister I have little to say. He poisoned Robert on Cersei’s order, then caught an arrow, was hit by Cersei, was sick for a long time, found the gods (they were hiding beneath the bed, I assume), became a religious fanatic, was stabbed by a child and then blown up as the wildfire’s first victim.

The High Sparrow is the second one to meet his gods, by a fraction of a second. If they exist, they will perhaps congratulate him for trying so hard and almost succeeding, or they’ll tell him to chill, that he was wrong on many points, but that when Cersei arrives, she will be dealt much more harshly. I never want an answer on what’s afterlife like in stories (purgatories are fine), but the High Sparrow was all about the afterlife and the judgement of the gods, and now he has gone there, and he has the answers. If he is welcomed not by his precious Seven, but by the Lord of Light… well, he went by burning, that should be a plus. I wonder about his last moments. When Margaery told him that Cersei is planning something and they should leave, what did he think it would be? Something like the Red Wedding? He knew that if he and/or members of the court died, they would be martyrs. He wasn’t afraid to die, and he wouldn’t care for the rich and elite, if the end result was a revolution. Well, he didn’t count for absolutely everybody dying at the same time.

Then there’s Margaery, who… was a plotter. She had a plan, that she would put to use when Loras was free to leave the sept. I wonder what it was. Margaery never was one to murder people, she just gently manipulated the people in power to do what she wanted them to do. Sadly, she couldn’t manipulate wildfire. (Sidenote: I think that not even Daenerys could survive that explosion, her body just wouldn’t burn, but there’s shock waves and everything else. So look out once you are there, there’s more of this stuff beneath all the big buildings). Margaery’s death was the biggest surprise. Everyone else there, sure, but she felt like she still had things to do and Cersei to challenge. Oh well. That’s the thing with death, it doesn’t care how much you have things to do.

Loras’ time has been almost nothing but suffering. It’s a pity, especially as he is… was the only gay man in the show after Renly died. Well, there was also that prostitute, but he was mostly a prop, and if he was still in the sept dungeons goodbye to him too. Anyway, after a long humiliation and abuse, he is mutilated and left to bleed as the High Sparrow goes after the bigger fish. And getting the star carved onto him was least of his worries, as he then dies too. Talk about drawing the short stick.

Mace Tyrell. How do I even begin to explain Mace Tyrell? He turned the wrong corner in the studio and ended up in the wrong show. Westeros is a darker place without him. I mean, sure, in that world kids died and people were flayed and so on, but that world also included Mace Tyrell, pompously going around the Red Keep, knowing that the place was kept in one piece only because of his diplomatic skills in the finances and fleet-organizing. Why, he practically ruled the realm behind the scenes, like in some game of thrones or something.

The Hand of the King is a very perilous position. Tywin Lannister was the only one who survived in that position for more than a season. Let’s see, Ned lost his head, Tyrion got a scar, Tywin was shot, Cersei (the Hand in all but name) was arrested and had Mother’s Mercy given to her, and now Kevan goes out in green flames. He was right in that Cersei wasn’t much of a ruler when she tried it, but completely excluding her from decision-making and her son was a wrong idea as well. Tywin could do it, but Cersei wouldn’t have blown Tywin up. Maybe. I’m actually not sure.

That’s everyone important inside the sept, but it doesn’t stop there. Oh how it doesn’t. Last week I wondered who will take the spot of the most vile character now that Ramsay is gone. Well… I have also thought that Cersei should get a win at some point. Can you say “summer child?” Because when Cersei gets a victory, it’s not pretty. The explosion at least was quick, even if it killed hundreds of innocents, but Septa Unella will suffer horribly for a long time until the good Queen allows her to die.

Queen, don’t I mean Queen Mother? After all, Tommen is still the king, right? Well, actually, after everything that Cersei has done for him... That is, trying to be the only one he ever listens to, removing everyone else from his life, including the woman she loves... To be fair, everybody in his life has only tried to use him for their own ends. Tywin told him to get good counselors, he has tried to get them anywhere he could. First Tywin, then Cersei, Margaery, Kevan, the High Sparrow… But he has been a puppet all the time. Once he figured out just how evil his own mother is, and that nothing in this world is good, except perhaps his beloved wife who just died… darn, that’s a lot to take in when your job description says “the most powerful man in the world” and that doesn’t help at all. He takes a long walk on a short windowsill.

There, that’s everyone in King’s Landing. Nine. What a purge. And it doesn’t stop there, as we move on to the Twins!

Lord Walder Frey is super happy for getting Riverrun back. He tries to make “The Freys and the Lannisters send their regards” into a thing, but Jaime is not amused. In their conversation Walder tries to make this a great victory, “I have defeated my enemies”, but Jaime points out that “he” had already defeated his enemies back at the Red Wedding, and then he couldn’t keep them defeated without Lannister help again. Now they are in the exact same situation but the Lannisters had to kill Blackfish for him. So after the Late Walder Frey becomes the late Walder Frey, is there a proper heir amidst his army of relatives, or will Cersei go “Pssh, who cares, let’s give Riverlands to some other house”?

Yes, Walder Frey dies. Not from old age, he’s too experienced of it to die from it, but from Arya’s hand, same way as he had her mother killed. Arya kills not only him, but also Black Walder and Lothar. She actually bakes them into a pie and has Walder eat them. This is some Titus Andronicus level horridness, and it’s done by Arya… actually I’m not even surprised. 

I don’t remember who are on her list, Cersei, the Mountain, the Hound… is anyone else still alive? Jaime apparently was not in the list, otherwise he wouldn’t have left the Twins alive. Arya uses faces, did she take them from the temple when she left? Do they work like that? And do the Faceless Men mind that she uses their tricks for her own purposes? Last time she did that, she was blinded. But maybe Braavos doesn’t mind her killing Cersei and some others, as the crown is still in debt to the Iron Bank. Even after the excellent deal Mace must have made with them.

But darn Arya, don’t act like cutting people up and baking them into pies is a cool thing to do. What I said last time of Sansa applies to her as well. Killing people is fine (in story), but cruel and unusual punishments must take a toll on you too, so better stop before you end up like Cersei.

So, on the throne? She has won the Game of Thrones, and sits now on the pointy chair. She has managed to gather enough of a new court to fill the throne room once more. The Mad King almost ended his rule by burning all his enemies, Cersei starts with it. So she read Stannis’ self-help guide “What would Aerys II do?” And with Qyburn as her hand and the entire Small Council, I’m sure her reign will be long and prosperous. Maybe even seven episodes long.

Sam and Gilly have arrived to their destination, without any dramatic hunting and confrontation which I feared would happen. They have the precious Valyrian steel sword in their possession. It would help a lot more in Castle Black than in the Citadel, but can Sam find anyone trustworthy enough to get it there in time?

Ah yes, the Citadel. I get big Alexandria vibes from it. The letter from Jon is accepted and believed, (“Yes, both the Lord Commander and the maester of the Watch died recently, I show up here months later holding a letter written by someone you don’t know and who actually is not the Lord Commander anymore, and I’m supposed to be educated by you.”), because who wouldn’t believe Sam?

The Citadel maester crosses out Mormont’s name from his book (if it lists current rulers, half of it must have been crossed out in recent years), and allows Sam to enter the library. Hallelujah! It’s got scrolls a plenty, and also planetary models. Cool! Is the map from the opening titles there somewhere too? More time here please.

So Sam and Gilly spent this season going from place A to place B, with the only hijinks on the way being having to dine with Sam’s father and stealing his sword with no repercussions (yet anyway). Now if they can just stay under radar for the next fourteen episodes…

Fourteen episodes. During the last fourteen episodes Sam defended Gilly once from the watchmen and then they travelled here. It feels weird that this story ends after that same number of episodes is up.

Well, so many of the cast died in this one that they can get more screen time in the future.

You know who won’t get any more screen time? Shireen. Because she was murdered. Davos confronts Melisandre about that, and her reasons and Davos’ objections are what I thought they would be. It felt super satisfying to hear Davos say “If he commands you to burn children, your lord is evil”, but sad as well. After hearing this, Jon doesn’t want her around anymore and exiles her.

Does Melisandre go to find another Chosen One? Well, Jon will fight the White Walkers so in that way he still is, but Melisandre can’t give her any tips from the Lord of Light. Which is totally fine with me. If he wants Jon to win, he can well melt the snow without asking for killing children first.

What did Olenna say to Cersei when she came back to King’s Landing last season? Sometimes you have to work with your enemies, not destroy them. Cersei never got the hang of that, so she ends up destroying anyone she can and making the rest new enemies. But Olenna, being awesome, is ready to put aside long blood feuds between the Martells and the Tyrells and travels to Dorne.

Seriously, Cersei has absolutely no proper allies anymore. The Freys need the Lannisters more than they need them. And being from the original usurper houses, and a bad person, she is a human-shaped target for everyone. Jaime and the Mountain have their job cut out for them to keep her alive long enough to be defeated.

I joked about “The War of Six Queens” back when Shireen, Margaery and Myrcella were still alive, but by the failure of existence of anyone else, the de facto ruleships have slipped to the women. Olenna, Ellaria, Cersei, Daenerys, Sansa almost, Yara likely soon. If you keep on killing everyone in the line of succession, at some point you run out of men.

Varys enters. He had Olenna’s respect back in King’s Landing, and now he can offer an alliance with three dragons and a big fleet full of soldiers. Daenerys’ job seems almost too easy. With Cersei being the most hated woman in the kingdom, and no other kings to challenge her rule-

Oh. These people are so easy to excite. Glover admits that he was wrong when he didn’t support Jon. Good, but the Glovers are still not right.

Sansa doesn’t take the leadership of the North, but she’ll likely become the regent as Jon has a war to fight during the winter. But that war seems much easier now with three dragons on the continent, if Tyrion manages to make Daenerys take that threat seriously. The dead can’t fly, and they can’t cross either the sea or the Wall.

That last information is told to us by Benjen. There are spells in the Wall’s foundations and the dead can’t pass while it stands. But the two dead watchmen who attacked Mormont in the Castle Black got through, by Jon and co bringing them there. Is that a loophole? But the watchmen won’t bring any more through, unless it’s for the pyre.

Benjen goes to be missing again, that’s what he knows best. Bran wants to see how the episode with young Ned ended, and rewinds there. Ned finds his sister Lyanna, dying in childbirth, and asks Ned to take care of the child.

The child. By Renly’s beard! That’s Jon! Who was thought to be the honorable Eddard Stark’s only sin, is instead the son of raped Lyanna Stark and her kidnapper, Rhaegar Targaryen, and Ned took care of him as his son. Wow.

I had no theories of Jon’s mother. I couldn’t figure out anyone 1) in the proper age range during the rebellion, 2) whose name would be a big enough revelation, and 3) who would be able to carry a child and have Ned then bring it to North with nobody wiser. So I decided to just wait and see. And this makes sense enough and fulfills the above conditions. Color me more than satisfied. It’s great to have six-year-long mysteries finally answered. What is left? The dagger will likely never be addressed in the show, Joffrey has been dead for a long time and who is going to care? Some historians, maybe. I don’t remember any other relevant mysteries which are still mysteries.

Littlefinger confesses that he has only ever wanted the Iron Throne, and Catelyn Sansa at his side. Sansa is not flattered, she has had enough of marriages for a long while. Besides, who would trust Littlefinger? Everyone, for some reason. If he had a bear costume and told everyone he was a bear, they’d believe that.

Daenerys wraps up on Essos. Slaver’s Bay is renamed into the Bay of Dragons, and Fabio Naharis is left in Meereen with the sellswords to keep peace there. “I said farewell to a man who loves me. Who I thought I cared for. And I felt nothing. Just impatience to get it over with”. Well, there’s two of us then. I haven’t thought much of any of Daenerys’ sidekicks... except for the ones coming from Westeros, now that I think about it. Huh.

Tyrion gets the Hand pin! And recognition of his skills and services! This is a beautiful day.

Then they are on their way. Daenerys is on her way. The fleet leaves Meereen and sails towards Westeros, with the dragons singing the song of fire.

Argh, I have to get the next episodes ASAP, no need for any months-long-breaks, I’m late as it is.

Compared to… all the other seasons, this one ended very optimistically. Aside from all the comparatively-decent persons dying, and with the knowledge that many more will die before the end, there’s still hope. The North is in peace and it’s led by a person who knows what they are up against, everyone is Cersei’s enemy so she won’t rule for long, and Daenerys has many ladies as allies already.

Okay winter, let’s go.

[insanesonofabitch]

Thinking about how the plot of season 6 wouldn’t make sense if you do not acknowledge the fact that Cas and Crowley working together was an affair, or at least it felt like so to Dean.

Majority of the people that I heard saying that they disliked that conflict, say that it doesn’t make sense because Dean should’ve understood Cas’ point of view. And that Dean has also worked with demons before, more than once, out of desperation. Which is why he doesn’t have the right to be mad. And I understand that. But it wasn’t about working with demons. No. Not really. The thing that hurt Dean the most about Cas’ choice was how he chose to ask for help from Crowley, instead of him. Cas chose Crowley over him.

“Look me in the eye, and tell me you’re not working with Crowley…”

“You’re in it with him? You and Crowley?? You’re going after purgatory together??? You have, huh? This whole time!”

“No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one.”

“I was there. Where were you?”

The plot literally doesn’t make sense if you do not acknowledge destiel or crowstiel or deancascrowley. And I think that’s insane, especially for a show from 2005.