#and helping them enjoy life and people rather than forcing themself to remain as Perfect Royalty

[justaz]

can’t stop thinking about merthian,,,

beautiful and talented queen of nemeth visiting camelot and everyone is like “are they getting married this time?” and nope! mithian is dragging merlin through the lower town laughing her ass off, both of them covered in mud, while some incoherent yelling is following them. oh yeah and mithian? the queen? dressed in what looks like one of merlin’s outfits. pants and all!!

merlin whispering in both arthur and mithian’s ears as the feast progresses, making fun of the snobby nobles and sharing the gossip he catches. mithian choking on her wine as she stifles a laugh while arthur just bites back a smile, all too used to merlin’s antics

[save-the-spiral]

Wiztober Day Eleven: Darkness

Welcome to day eleven of Wiztober! One character is pointedly not named. I don’t like writing down or coming up with deadnames for trans characters, it makes me extremely uncomfortable (though they are misgendered, it’s from the perspective of people who don’t know they’re trans, or the character themself doesn’t know they’re trans). My first time writing more about actual cultures, and also a trans femme character more in depth. Feel free to send an ask and correct me if need be. (ALSO. I can explain the names in another post. the intersection of culture and gender comes into play). My content warning are specific but! they need to be. Sorry if it’s awkward! some things would be specifically upsetting to me if faced with them out of the blue, and I’d like to note them.

Content warnings for perfectionism forced upon children from their parents, physical and verbal bullying, ableism (towards a ‘weird’, not openly autistic person), chronic pain mention (endometriosis), attempted murder, injury mention, and like, two lines of implied racism, though it could be interpreted otherwise.

(link to prompt list)

Quyen and Phuong Jade were close siblings. Born only a year apart, Quyen was a good older brother, going out of his way to protect his two younger siblings, but with a soft spot for his sister Phuong. In the beginning they were three sons from a good, ‘normal’, Vietnamese family, even with an adopted youngest child. Now Quyen, Phuong, and their younger brother were wizards, and not all of them were sons, and they had left their home on Earth behind years ago. They had all left their names as well.

Quyen chose Celyn, and Phuong went by Morelle, and they chose the last name Jade together. Quyen was thirteen, Phuong twelve, and their younger brother ten. This youngest brother didn’t get input as to their new last name, and his first name was already western, given by parents he never knew. He saw himself as an afterthought most of the times, the adopted baby to be taken care of as Quyen and Phuong acted like twins, mischievous yet hard working together.

Celyn was eighteen, now. He never faltered when responding to his western, fake name. He was a year ahead of Morelle, and yet she spent more time helping him with his homework in their study sessions than the other way around. Morelle was also taller than him now, a consistent point of good-natured ribbing.

He was still supportive and protective, though his brother had insisted on being given space in his moodier teenage years, now fifteen with a steady girlfriend and a need to prove himself. So Celyn gave him distance, checking in sometimes but always being pushed further away. Morelle insisted that their brother needed to find his own friends, find himself, because although he seemed ungrateful, he still loved his siblings. They had to. They would always be family.

Morelle was seventeen, and even more outspoken and strong than before. She still had dragged Celyn with her to (almost) every doctor’s appointment as she transitioned, genuine when she looked him in the eye and said she needed someone to know, and care. Celyn already cared, and he found rare books on the magic used to help in her transition, and left them in her dorm.

Celyn always loved rare books, and had a skill for finding them.

That, one could suppose, is as good a start as any, though it goes back two years ago.

Celyn had been given a tip by a grateful acquaintance about where he could find rare, even forbidden, books in Wizard City. Just had to have the right key, and go behind the right waterfall, and be prepared to pay the price if caught.

Since he was sixteen Celyn had been sneaking into Nightside, slipping between abandoned streets and alleyways in the dead of night, wearing a dark cloak, carrying a dagger, maybe being a bit too dramatic. He had found some of his best finds in empty houses and bookstores, and even once grabbed a tome from the library, though that felt too actually criminal for him to attempt again.

At first it was just extra reading material, he and his siblings were all great life wizards, but they could always be greater. They strove for perfection as children back on Earth, and even now without parents to scold them, they still felt a frantic need to be the best, the kind that left them pulling all-nighters and waking up in a panic over tests already taken..

Morelle was fifteen when she started tutoring a pretty girl in life magic. The girl was known around school as quiet to the point of unnerving, never getting social interactions right, so the myth wizard had been labeled as ‘weird’ by the majority of people and written off as smart but too freaky to befriend. Morelle, who looked at this girl and couldn’t help but blush, who found her intriguing now that she noticed her, was thankful she had been assigned to tutor her.

Morelle and Morae became quiet study partners after that. Morelle came to Celyn for help with her rapidly growing need to get to know the girl, to speak to her and find a way to connect where no one else had tried before.

Celyn decided to find some esoteric myth tomes for Morelle to give to her new friend. That was when he found a book on Shadowmancy.

He kept the strange, unique book, shoving it under his homework an interest to pursuit later. He passed on the myth spell books and Morelle came back later, gushing about how Morae was from Earth like them, though on the opposite side of the globe, and then she said more and more until Celyn realized it indeed was a crush.

Celyn met Morae. She was as quiet as rumors said, though there was a logic to it, and Celyn respected that. They both relished in a silent, calm environment, and both enjoyed having someone outgoing and wild like Morelle to pull them out from time to time. They rarely spoke, aside from Celyn giving Morae advice about wooing his sister, and Morae asking clarifying questions about Morelle and how to interact with others without coming off as always aloof, when in reality she was actually rather excited or happy.

Something Morae was startlingly quick to divulge was that she was in nearly constant pain, and kept a blank face as a habit so she wouldn’t scowl at everyone. Then, she would forget to smile. When asked further, she just shifted, pressing a hand to her lower back, and muttered that it was chronic, and even magic didn’t have a cure, so she took standard medication imported from Earth.

Celyn wasn’t one to adopt others as friends quickly. That was Morelle’s forte. But something about Morae opened up his heart, and while his brother pushed him away, he felt like he was gaining a second sister rather quickly. He answered Morae’s questions, he kept and eye out for interesting books Morae would like. He even picked up food for her to try, although she was quick to dismiss things with unpleasant textures, it was something he did to add variety to her life, as she admitted living by routine was soothing, but sometimes monotonous.

It was a month or so later that Celyn actually delved into the book that had gotten lost in his shuffle of books and homework. Shadowmancy was interesting. It spoke of other schools of magic Celyn had never heard of before, ones concerning the Moon, the Sun, and the stars. Some part of him burned with a cold resentment that such lost knowledge was buried in abandoned shops and homes, that it could have been lost to time, even though students would always be eager to discover and learn a new school. He had to know more.

As Morelle grew closer to Morae, Celyn fell into isolation, only studying for school, and for this new magic he had found. Months passed, and the only times he left his dorm were for class or seeking out more books in Nightside’s forgotten corners, then dropping off books for Morae and Morelle during group study nights.

Things progressed. Now, Celyn is eighteen. Morelle and Morae are seventeen.

Celyn would graduate in a few weeks’ time. Morelle and Morae had been dating for half a year, still tentative, barely doing more than some adventurous hand holding in public.

The world shifted when Morae showed up to one of Celyn, Morelle, and Morae’s group study sessions with a bruised face, and couldn’t speak. Morelle instantly went to her girlfriend’s side, emotional but trying her hardest to not raise her voice or cry herself.

Celyn sat there, watching it happen, and felt like he was grinding his teeth into dust. Anger surged, as if someone flipped a switch inside him, and his usual pleasant and sometimes coy demeanor became nothing. His face was devoid of emotion, his green eyes, something so different from his siblings’ plain brown, were dull.

He saw nothing but the shadows, and the shadows saw him. Life magic had no solution for this aside from soft words and healing spells. Shadow knew how to twist circumstances in one’s favor, how to change the game and make others regret.

Morelle told him the next day before a shared lecture. Morae had allowed her to confide in him, and so his sister told him that there were some very persistent bullies seeking a response from Morae. That they had been doing this for years, and were just now escalating to physical actions. After that day, he spent more time with Morelle and Morae, supporting them. She would show up to their usual meeting spots with a random bruise or two, insisting it was nothing. He was trying his best to remain calm and not lash out at the entire world for allowing harm to come to Morae.

Instead he watched, waiting, but still he felt tense. A bow string pulled past its limits, cold with righteous fury that must be sated eventually. He became less orderly, forgetting some of the last assignments in his school career, dressing in ink stained theurgist robes, no longer tying his hair back.

Morelle joked that they looked like twins more than ever, and Celyn grinned at that. Their sharp smiles were identical, and Celyn knew he could bring Morelle in on the only secret he had ever kept from her, if only from omission.

So on a night where Morae wanted to study on her own for myth school exams, Celyn invited his sister over. He showed her the books he had accumulated, hidden behind his driest, most boring textbooks. She was interested, downright fascinated, but only drawn to what Shadowmancy could do to make her a better healer and protector.

Celyn had been drawn the violence. He was always of the opinion that the best defense was a swift and ruthless offense. Morelle had a better sense of when to play fair, where he was more ruled by anger. He probably should have guessed what facets of this school she would find entrancing.

She knew this about him too, and vocalized it when she noticed how much fewer his books on healing and protecting were. Morelle simply teased him, smiling as if it was something as commonplace as her razzing on Celyn over his height. Celyn smiled back, and knew Morelle was better at predicting him than he was at reading her intentions.

Celyn even brought her along on a visit to Nightside, where she could scope out and pick books of her own, and they didn’t sleep that night. It was amazing, the adrenaline of a heist combining with the giddiness of their old mischief making them carry twin smiles.

They were not careful. They were seen.

Those who saw them knew who they were. Who their few other connections were. A distanced, adopted brother who was busy being dragged around by an overbearing girlfriend anyway, and wasn’t consequential. And then Morae, the same girl they had been harassing, that they were so keen on finally getting a reaction out of.

So that was how things came to a head. Threats were made to Morae about getting the only people who cared about her kicked out of Ravenwood. Morae was angry, very angry.

All her life, Morae had been passive. She was quiet, sensitive. A good girl back at home on Earth, who kept quiet and did everything asked of her, even when that meant failing school to take care of siblings, even when that meant smiling and pretending she didn’t understand the insults, even if she was fluent in English as well as her native Spanish. She was different no matter how silent she was, her large afro of hair and Vitiligo always easy to point out.

Then Morae was told she had to potential to be a wizard, to go learn fantastical things. She took the chance, because when she asked her parents, they said they didn’t care either way, and tried to guilt her, but she didn’t get that they were trying to guilt her, and so she just left. She cut her hair close to her skull, the texture finally no longer a constant pain just under her skin, and became a myth wizard.

And for years, she still acted the same. Quiet, passive. A good girl. Until she reached out and asked to be tutored in life magic. And she found someone worth being herself for. 

Almost two years of being friends, almost six months of being girlfriends, and Morae had found her spine, confidence wrapping around her like a heavy, anchoring blanket. When threatened, anger rose up for the first time since she was very young. Anger made her fists clench around the strap of her school bag. It made her look up from her shoes. It made her pay attention and want to defend what was hers.

So Morae looked the bullies in the eye, standing at her full height of six feet, and scoffed. The eye contact was uncomfortable, but it was worth it for the bullies’ discomfort, as they noticed just how tall she was, how severe her face could look, even in the dappled sunlight outside the myth school. She told them she didn’t care, that they could bring it because nothing had worked yet, and she was getting bored.

Then she left, and within a minute she had interlocked her fingers with Morelle’s, and she kissed the girl on the cheek, spontaneous enough to leave them both giggling.

Morae told Morelle and Celyn about her confrontation that night when they were supposed to be studying, her eyes bright as she rambled on, open and honest and excited about this new development, as if it were idle yet juicy gossip, and not a serious threat.

Morelle knew Celyn was angrier than ever, though it was because he was scared, and he knew if they got caught it would be his fault. Morelle knew what kind of person Celyn was, and that her brother would take the punishment for the both of them if he could figure out how. And she wouldn’t let that happen, not when they could control the situation. In the past few weeks her studies in shadow magic pushed her towards thinking like this, and she found it very beneficial.

So Morelle, that night, told Morae about the school of shadow magic. Morae, who had already gone to the limits of her magical prowess mastering life magic alongside her first school of myth, was interested, but unable to learn it anyway aside from maybe a spell or two. Celyn, understanding what Morelle was going towards, helped her plan out what they were to do next.

What neither of them considered was that plans always fall apart the moment one comes in contact with the enemy.

And so this was where they were.

A day before graduation, and Celyn’s dorm was being searched after he was accused of attacking some students who may or may not have a reputation for bullying. He did attack the students, but it still felt unfair. Of course they found the shadowmancy books too, because Celyn didn’t exactly think things would get this far, and in his defense, he was eighteen, and thought a few stuffy textbooks would be a good cover for contraband. He was expelled, and then exiled, quickly and quietly. He was leaving through the Spiral Door before anyone knew what had taken place that morning.

Morae was missing. Morelle was frantic and looking for her, a lime green aura of powerful life magic fluttering around her, lighting up all the dark spots as she scoured everywhere one would expect Morae to be.

Someone, like a god damned serial killer, had slid a note halfway under Morae’s door sometime after Morae had searched her girlfriend’s dorm that morning.

It had just a location, and Morelle was on a warpath. If those who caused this, whoever Celyn had missed in his little vengeance mission, were still there, they would regret it.

Luckily for those people, they weren’t there. Morae was.

She had been thrown from the edge of Ravenwood, down into Nightside.

It was a gorey scene. If Morelle hadn’t been medically trained, she likely would have been unresponsive when faced with something so awful. She did all she could with her life magic, straightening broken limbs and bandaging open wounds, staring helplessly at obvious internal wounds. She even managed to conjure a stretcher, the fabric and wood a deep green, her magic too emotional to bother with proper colors as it glowed and levitated, illuminating Morae’s injuries in a sickly color.

Morelle ran as quickly as she dared, the stretcher following her, Morae’s breaths wheezing and shallow, filling the small cave entrance behind the waterfall when Morelle stopped for breath, in her mind trying to construct any plan.

There was no plan for this.

So Morelle walked out of the fine mist of water from the waterfall, using her magic to shield Morae’s body as the stretcher floated through. The busy students preparing for the graduation ceremony tomorrow stopped and stared from their places scattered about the Commons. Once shock turned to alarm, people began yelling and crowding around, more and more coming as they heard the others, and Morelle only got as far as the courtyard right before the tunnel to Ravenwood when she snapped.

Instead of lime green life magic, Morelle’s magic darkened. It became a forest green, still surrounding and shielding Morae, what little healing magic she had left being slowly fed into her body, trying not to overload her.

But around Morelle herself that forest green darkened further. She shouted for people to back off and clear the way, but still the crowd shifted, fellow theurgists offering their aid and conjurers offering faux sympathy after years of ignoring their peer, one of the best of them.

Then, ink falling into water, blood falling onto cobblestones, Morae falling into Nightside, Morelle’s ambient magic became a deep, unfathomable black. It absorbed light around it, filling out and circling like a predator, a deep chirruping hum of interest as it built a barrier.

Then Morelle’s shadow stretched, rising, holding a scythe she didn’t own yet. Shadow didn’t care for time, it knew who Morelle was.

And, as Shadow always does, it broke the rules.

There were limits to magic in healing, the potential to make magic spill over as if the wizard body was a cup and magic was water, and it was infuriating to many healers. Shadow could overflow, and still stay, all that magic anchored and solid, as if frozen and still rising, leaving bit by bit as the body absorbed it and truly healed.

Morelle’s hair rose, long black strands twisting and warping as she merged with her shadow, a sentinel and seraph in one form, armor clad in indigo and black, wings protectively curled where they became one with the barrier around her.

Next Morelle knew, she was in a daze, and it was the dead of night, and she was told of her expulsion, a key in hand as she entered the Spiral Door.

Next Morae knew, she was waking up as healthy as she could be, told of her girlfriend’s expulsion, and girlfriend’s brother’s exile. How those who were attacked by Celyn and those who she knew had thrown her off a cliff were getting off with no punishment for their bullying, or for their actual crimes of assault and attempted murder. And she was angry, and spiteful, but this time she was willing to wait for a better plan.

She would complete her last year of school in only months of time, and find her girlfriend. She would return to Wizard City one day, Morelle at her side, with a plan that wouldn’t fail.

So Morae smiled softly, if not a little tearfully, and quietly thanked the life student in the clinic who was known to rip up the homework of those he disliked. Morelle and Celyn had such interesting gossip from the secret hierarchy of life wizards.

There were many secrets in Wizard City. Morae would just have to find the right one to make Ambrose regret his choices. She would bide her time, but when the time did come, she would make eye contact no matter how painful, just to see that soft sparkle in Headmaster Ambrose’s eyes to fill with stark terror.

[beccaland]

I really enjoyed reading your meta on RTD's companions' relationships with the Doctor. I was wondering if you could explain your thoughts on River in another meta post? I hope you're having a lovely day!

Ooh, I have A LOT to say about River. Probably more than is reasonable for one post, which is partly why it took me so long to answer your ask! Certainly too long for a post without a readmore.

II’ll try to follow a similar format here as in that other meta about the RTD-era companions, by starting with a discussion of River’s character more-or-less separately from her relationship with the Doctor.

So, who is River anyway? She was genetically modified pre-natally and kidnapped at birth specifically to create a perfect assassin to kill the Doctor (see, keeping her character separate from the Doctor is a tiny bit tricky). From the glimpses we get of it, we know that the first decade or so of her life was horrific. Far more traumatic than anything any previous companion endured, both in terms of duration and severity. And she escaped it, largely by her own efforts. But there’s no question, River is damaged.

We don’t know how exactly she made it to Leadworth right around the turn of the millennium, but she managed to arrange it so she’d be raised, not so much by her parents as with them, in their orbit. And this part of her life is also mostly a blank: we know she was in trouble a lot at school and with the local constabulary, but we don’t know if that’s because of her early conditioning or if her foster situation was also bad or if she’s just her mother’s daughter. What we DO know is that Mels is an incredibly tough and deeply troubled person who is, despite her conditioning, trying and mostly succeeding to carve out a life on her own terms, and who has a warm and loving relationship with her parents (who are also her peers).

But fate catches up with her. She meets the man she’s been trained to kill, she does the deed (though not, it must be noted, in the way her puppetmasters planned), and then she changes her mind. She gives all her remaining lives to save him–because of the knowledge she’s gained of who he really is, but perhaps more importantly the glimpse she’s given of who she can become in the future if she chooses a different path. What she is shown here, in a really concrete way, is that she has a choice. Whatever her reasons, it’s an incredibly selfless act from a self-described psychopath. And then she goes off and becomes an archaeologist. Others have written better meta than I could about that particular career choice; suffice to say I don’t believe for a nanosecond that she did it to track down the Doctor and leave him ridiculous messages (that’s just a side benefit).

And then she gets taken prisoner again, used to kill the Doctor again, and once again finds a way to NOT do the thing that fate/Kovarian demands of her. And then she gets imprisoned again, and escapes whenever she wants, but always goes back. Beats paying rent, I guess? Or maybe part of her feels safer in prison while she figures out how to be River Song. Prison is familiar territory, after all.

After her sentence is commuted, she gets a full professorship and goes on more adventures of her own–some of them above-board archaeological expeditions and others, well, less above-board. One of the latter sort takes her to a 24-year-long night of domestic bliss, and one of the former sort leads to her sacrificing her life for 4022 people (and/or her husband). After which she’s saved to a data core for who knows how long and still manages find a way out for field trips.

So that’s River. Her relationship with the Doctor is mixed through her whole life, but contrary to some opinions, it never defines her life. Nor do Kovarian’s machinations. River’s life is defined by her finding a way to choose her own path despite the plans of others.

My feelings about River’s relationship to the Doctor are complicated. As they should be.

So, when River first shows up (from the Doctor’s perspective, which is our perspective) people kinda either loved her or hated her, and I’m not sure that first impression ever changed much for a lot of us.

Me, I loved her. I liked that she put the Doctor on his back foot. She was his equal in a way we hadn’t seen since Romana, but this was different. I could never imagine the Doctor and Romana in love (not even her second incarnation, despite all that flirting). But when Lux said they were “bickering like an old married couple” and River had That Look on her face, I felt thrilled. I never got over it.

To me, River seemed like the right sort of love interest for the Doctor: an equal, yes, but not a mirror image. Later on, while others became frustrated with the revelation that her entire life had been timey-wimey manipulated to kill the Doctor, I saw it differently. Yes, she was “born to kill the Doctor,” and yes, it took her until the last moment to choose something else. But that choice was of a piece with her other choices–her other refusals to conform to the script Kovarian had written for her. She was a kind of wild force. Wilder even than the Doctor themself, who, let’s be honest, is a pretty tame renegade. River cannot be contained or controlled. So the Doctor doesn’t try. Or least, not very much, and never successfully.

There are still problematic aspects to their relationship, of course. She nearly destroyed time itself because she couldn’t bear to stand helplessly in that spacesuit and watch him die without telling him what he meant, not just to her but to the universe. That gesture was very much about her feelings for him, but I can’t help thinking it was also strongly driven by her need to assert control of her own life to the greatest extent possible, most of all in that moment where she couldn’t prevent the thing she dreaded most and had been herded toward literally all her life. The Doctor was, understandably, really annoyed at her grand gesture, but also deeply touched. Enough to let her in on his secret (“look into my eye”), and enough to finally let her into his hearts, to stop running from her and what she would come to mean to him, even knowing how it would end. Not really a healthy dynamic, but at least they were aware of that fact and honest about it.

And then, sometimes they relied on each other too much. Because they respected each other’s strengths, they sometimes forgot their weaknesses, and forgot to be gentle and kind to each other. Because each secretly thinks of the other as sidekick, we get to see a fair amount of them annoying each other and getting in each other’s way. We don’t get to see much of their happy times, because she’s not a regular companion, so we usually drop in on her (or she on us) when the crisis is imminent, if not already underway. For that reason it’s hard to assess their relationship fairly; we get told about a lot of fluffy stuff we don’t see, like their dates on Asgard and at the last great Frost Fair. We just get schmoopy allusions to the good times from River, and I suspect that how persuasive you find those aspects of their relationship depends to a large degree on how you feel about Alex Kingston’s delivery. Similarly we only get hints about her life apart from the Doctor.

I think part of the reason I love them so much and ship them so faithfully is this: While on the one hand River’s character as we see her in the TV series is entirely bound up in her relationship to the Doctor, at the same time their stories–and their relationship–are always also about something else. As a couple, I always imagine them shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped and facing the danger together, rather than facing each other in a tender embrace, each with eyes only for the other (except that one time on that explodey starliner; that was awesome).

There’s other stuff I could say about her, and about her relationship dynamic with the Doctor based on her audios, but this answer is long enough, I think.