#but neither of these characters EVER says ‘the elves are to blame’

[crowlore]

beginning to suspect some of you don’t understand the difference between a character feeling a certain way and how you the player are meant to think about information. there is a massive difference between a character in a moment of heightened emotion saying “this is my/your fault” and the writers Telling You that is the Truth. there are criticisms to be had of tone and handling but in no world is this game saying what some of you claim it is.

[timetravelingshark]

Okay so I'm not super familiar with your OCs, but I wanted to send emojis, so....pick who you want to talk about for each? Or pick one(s) you don't talk about often that you want to flesh out more? 👁️EYE💥COLLISON🍧SHAVED ICE🌙MOON🙈SEE-NO-EVIL🌌MILKY WAY🌪️TORNADO💚GREEN HEART

Thank you so much for the ask!! I'll do the mains just because it's fun to tinker with them and more development can't hurt. 👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical…)?

oooo okay this is a great question because eye color actually is a BIG thing in my story!! There's two main schools of magic that humans use- light and dark magic. Neither is inherently good or bad, and it's kind of like a yin and yang thing. The ability to use magic in any safe and meaningful capacity is somewhat rare, and it's determined by birth. Those who have a natural affinity for light magic have eyes the color of cut emeralds, and those who have a natural affinity have eyes that are the color of orange flames. Ori, being a dark mage, has orange eyes, and Darius, being a light mage, has emerald eyes. Elves are also a thing in this story and one of their most iconic traits is their eyes that come in unnatural, startling shades of blue- ranging from the exact color of ice to the inkiest midnight blue. Nero and Chrion, the major elven characters, both have blue eyes. Nero's eyes are more in the icy range, while Chiron's eyes look more like the sea. aight lads this post has gotten a lot longer than I intended (this is actually a lot of questions orz) so I'll put everything else under the read more so my followers don't hate me lmfao

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

Ori- Feelings of inadequacy and uselessness. It's what spurred her to try to master each Art and be listed as one of the true greats in magical history. She wants to learn, she wants to do, she wants to be of use. If she can't help or be needed or of use she feels lost, wilts, and retreats into herself.

Darius- Anger. He doesn't look like it, and it's pretty difficult to rouse his anger, certainly, but if someone manages to truly piss him off he tends to do some highly unethical shit and it's very hard for him to cool down afterwards. He gets all shaky and restless for a while and has to pace and then meditate to calm himself down. He holds a lot of grudges and it's hard for him to forgive. It's a part of his personality that he's deeply ashamed of and he hates it when people see that side of him.

Nero- Resentment. Boy is a petty, salty bitch (not that I blame him) and it affects pretty much every facet of his character. He's been treated like shit for a good chunk of his life and so it completely colors his worldview and influences the things he does and says throughout the story. Chiron- Ooooo, this one's hard! Chiron is probably the least developed out of the main four, which I hope to remedy soon. For now, I would say it's arrogance. The man is good at magic- more than most humans, by virute of being an elf, and he's pretty good for an elf. He's extremely confident in his abilities and it gets to his head sometimes. 🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Ori- A small doll that Isra, her mentor at the abbey, made for her when she was a little girl. When she got a little bit older, her friend Asar put tiny little bracelets on it made out of bronze and glamoured them to look gold, to match the bracelets that the people at the temple wore. They were her two dearest (and kind of only) friends at the monastery so she treasures it a lot. If she ever lost it, she'd be absolutely distraught, and probably bawl like a baby. Darius- A handwritten book of prayers that was given to him by his nonnus, Evander- the monk that was his surrogate father and main teacher at the temple that he grew up in. He got it when he turned ten and he still carries it around with him to this day, flipping through it to find the right prayer to ease his mind. If he ever lost it or it got irreparably destroyed, he'd be pretty out of sorts for a good while, and then he'd probably write to Evander and apologize for losing it because he loves his dad v much and feels like he's dishonoring him by losing his hard work. :( Nero- A sword and scabbard that his father gave him before he was sent to live at the Lucerian royal court at age 13. It's a piece of his Elven cultural heritage (one of the few he still has) and a sign that his father truly viewed him as a proper elven man. If he ever lost it, he'd be genuinely inconsolable. Man would still be mourning that sword a hundred years later. Chiron- A silver and carved moonstone necklace given to him at 13. Traditionally, necklaces like this are given to youths once they turn sixteen, but since he was also sent to live at the Lucerian royal court alongside Nero, his parents gave it to him earlier. It's a beautiful peice and Chiron wears it near constantly. If he ever somehow lost it or it was irreparably destroyed, he'd certainly be upset by it, but would eventually come to terms with it. If he ever got his hands on moonstone, he might try to make a replacement, similar to the one that he lost but different enough to show how he's changed in the 52 years since he got the original necklace. 🌙 MOON - what is your oc’s greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

Ori- To be the very best mage there ever was and to help people from all over any ways that she can. She literally raised a man from the dead solely to make him to teach her light magic because light magic is a lot more conducive to directly helping people, so I'd say she's ready to do just about anything. Darius- Currently, it's to regain his lost memories from the last seven years, and to find out who murdered him and why. He is fully willing to go across the continent and break into some rather secure places to figure it out. He is usually pretty hard lawful except when it comes to this stuff, lmao. Nero- To be back among his people instead of at the human Lucerian court. He'd genuinely be down for murder if it got him home, but the knowledge that a very tense geopolitical situation that could put his people in jeparody rests upon his shoulders prevents him from ever actually doing anything meaningful to acheive this goal. Chiron- To become genuinely respected in his field. He knows that he isn't fully taken seriously due to his elven nature, youthful appearance, and status as a hostage, and while it doesn't make him seethe like how it does to Nero, his ass is a tad bit chapped over it. People in the court recognize that he's certainly talented, but don't seem to realize that he's worked extremely hard to get to the level of precise skill in magic that he has and that it's not due to elven genetics like many who dismiss him claim- especially when he's practicing a human school of magic, which is much harder for elves to do. He generally lets that stuff roll off his back like water on a duck, but occasionally he'll show off more than he needs to to prove his worth to the naysayers. 🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don’t want to show other people?

Ori- She doesn't like to show off her insecurities or feelings of inadequacy. It makes her feel lame, and Ori wants to be the diametric opposite of lame at all times (by virtue of being a teenager, she fails in the "be cool as fuck at all times" category. repeatedly. bless her heart.) Darius- As mentioned earlier, he hates it when he gets into a rage, especially around other people. It's very shameful for people to see him lose control like that, particularly because it's normally really hard to get him worked up. Nero- Man actually has a heart under his jaded exterior, but only about three people (including a certain princess 👀👀👀) actually know that, and he would like it to stay that way. Chiron- He's made kind of a reputation of his "go with the flow" and "it is what it is" nature, so he doesn't like it if someone can tell if something is seriously affecting him. He has a brand to uphold, after all. 🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them? Ori and Darius came to me in a dream, actually. I dreamt I was a young mage who found a dude dead in a ditch and I brought him back to life with woo-woo magic necromancy powers. So that's where the very spark of inspiration came from! I would also say that Ori initially took some inspo from Megumin, lol. The first thing that I decided for both of them were their color palettes, as well as their hair and eye colors! Nero was based lowkey off of a character from a very old and very abandoned fantasy story of mine. I loved him as a character too much to throw away with the rest of what was a kind of unsalvageable story, so I adapted him and made him his own thing. I think one of the first things that I decided about him was that he was going to have incredibly short hair for an elf, which would end up becoming pretty symbolic since it showed his ironic disconnect with his birth culture. Chrion's inspiration was HIGHKEY inspired by Mathis Quigley from the wonderful webcomic Unsounded. (Absolutely read that if you get the chance, btw). The pale pretty boy looks, the arrogance, the skill at magic, the fondness for dark blue... man takes a lot after Quigs, I fully admit. He's diverged a lot from Quigley, though, since his inception, and I think that he stands as his own character. The first thing that I decided about him was that he'd be a magic user, to compliment Nero's very martially oriented build, and to give Ori and Darius someone to have cool magic duels with. 🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you’ve ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

Ori- She was a LOT more morally fucked, I would say, and she's already pretty morally fucked so you can imagine how bad she was. Originally dark and light magic were a lot more black and white but I found that kind of boring so I ditched it within like a month of the story's creation, and Ori's original, significantly darker characterization went with that. Darius- He used to not have a background as a solider- went straight from the Monastery to [REDACTED]. I decided that that was kind of boring and that he needed some more development to make certain aspects of his personality make sense, and to better connect him with people to help facilitate the search for his memories, so I decided to have him join the Lucerian army in the mage division. This ended up being great for his character development and it gave us his CO, Marcus, who is one of my favorite characters because he's just fucking funny and also Darius' bestie.

Nero- His original-original characterization from the first abandoned story was that he was an older brother tracking down his younger sister who he viewed as a traitor to their people and their kind for helping two human princes escape death. That all has gone clear out the window in this new story, but a lot of fundamental personality traits remain. Chiron- He's more ambitious than he was originally, and he's a little less nice to humans than he was originally- he's kind of ambivalent towards them now compared to his initial positivity. 💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

Ori- Girl loves cuddles and hugs. Having someone's arms around her helps her feel safe, grounded, and most importantly, loved. Naturally, she craves this like how a cat craves sunlight and will bask in the cuddles and affection if you give it to her. Darius- A good bowl of soup is always a nice comfort for him. He doesn't mind hugs and cuddles, though, but it has to be from the right person. If he gets them from the right person, this man will literally melt in their arms. Just goes boneless. Nero- He'd literally die before admitting this, but he loves it when someone runs their hands through his hair, and especially so if they kind of gently scritch his scalp while doing so. The man may be an elf but he's a doggo at heart.

Chiron- A steady hand on his shoulder and some kind, appreciative words can rally Chiron from an emotional, mental, or physical low. Just knowing you appreciate him or trust him can make him go from :( to :)

[maitarussa-old]

Dubious Consent in Elven Marriage: The Case of Aredhel and Eöl

Not that long ago, I wrote this post about Elven gender, sexuality, etc. which was a combination of details from the text, extrapolated theories, and worldbuilding headcanons that, while they may not be directly supported in-text, did not contradict it.

Here, I’ll go a little more in-depth on the relationship of Aredhel and Eöl, as well as the role that will, manipulation, and consent played in their relationship— and could come into play in others.

Content Warnings: Discussion of R*pe/Sexual Assault, Domestic Abuse/Violence, Child Abuse, Manipulation, and Canonical Character Death.

It goes without saying, but Eöl’s actions are to be thoroughly condemned, and Aredhel is not to blame, nor is Maeglin.

…

The marriage of Aredhel and Eöl is unique among the Eldar, at least recorded, in that it was not truly for love, and ended in great tragedy with the death of Aredhel at Eöl’s hands.

However, it brings to light a grey area in the role that consent plays in Elven intimacy, and what defines consent.

Non-consensual sex is, unless the spirit of the one being assaulted is bound to their body in some way, impossible for Elves. Their spirits will depart their body immediately rather than suffer through such violation. The point at which death occurs may vary based upon the willpower of the individual, but regardless, death will occur.

It is not in the nature of Elves to force intimacy without consent— and very few, unless corrupted, would ever even consider to do so. However, this does not mean that each and every relationship is perfectly happy and entirely consensual, and one may imprint one’s own desires onto another, turning it to theirs as well through persistence and manipulation.

Such was the relationship of Aredhel and Eöl, and not every part of their marriage was for ill, or recognised to be bad— and there was even some happiness, noted in this passage of the Silmarillion.

However, despite the fact that it was tolerable, the union was not out of love. While Aredhel was not “wholly unwilling,” neither does it say she was willing.

Eöl despised the Ñoldor, and through his hatred he became corrupted, and desired to have mastery over them. This he accomplished by ensnaring Aredhel, convincing her to wed him, and exerting a great amount of control over her life.

Aredhel, for her part, had no desire to marry. She was quite content on her own. However, after falling under the enchantments set about Nan Elmoth, her will became more malleable.

Eöl presented himself as a friend to her, and in her weariness and enchanted state it was not difficult for him to convince her that she desired to remain with him in Nan Elmoth. And from there, that she wished to wed him. Aredhel was not fully released from the enchantments until after they were married, and the union completed, marriage bond formed. However, Eöl had slowly released them over time, so that the wish to wed him had, in Aredhel’s mind, truly become hers rather than his own.

After their marriage, Eöl held an unprecedented amount of control over Aredhel’s daily life, but convinced her it was for her own good, and that she would be better off following his wishes. At first, she was not thoroughly unhappy, and Eöl’s manipulation worked— she remained subdued, content. She was unaware of the degree to which she was being manipulated, and believed that she wished for this life just as much as Eöl did.

In the early time of their marriage, there was no physical violence. This would change after the birth of Maeglin. Elven pregnancies do not occur without both parents wishing for it. Typically, it is for a happy reason. But in Maeglin’s case, it was not. Eöl wished for a child, to teach his craft. Aredhel, though not entirely aware of the extent of her unhappiness, was nonetheless lonely, and wished to be truly loved, and to love. Thus, a desire for a child awakened within her outside of Eöl’s manipulations, and Maeglin was conceived.

Things took a dark turn after Maeglin’s birth. During Aredhel’s pregnancy was probably the closest to truly happy that the ill-fated couple was. Eöl, excited to be a father, began to truly care for Aredhel along with their unborn child. Aredhel, in the meantime, began to feel similarly, enjoying Eöl’s new, more affectionate behavior. This abruptly changed after Maeglin was born— and it was found that he looked almost completely Ñoldorin in appearance.

Eöl, who still hated the Ñoldor, despised the fact that his son resembled so closely Aredhel’s kin, and shunned Maeglin and hated Aredhel for it— blaming Aredhel for the way that Maeglin was formed. Eöl refused to nurse Maeglin, or to touch him, or to have anything to do with him, leaving the full burden of raising the child to Aredhel. And at the same time, Eöl began to be physically violent with Aredhel, even at times sexually violent. He would bring up the fact that they were married, and thus that she had, through their marriage, already consented. Aredhel, amid her suffering, and not infrequently having been drugged or enchanted, resigned herself to it and accepted the things that Eöl told her, though her despair only grew by the day.

At this point, it would not have been out of the question for Aredhel to fade, as she quickly became starkly aware of the true nature of the relationship, and of the fact that she had never truly desired it. However, she did not fade, despite the ever-increasing violence and control. This was because of Maeglin— she loved him greatly, and did not wish to abandon him to Eöl, who hated him and who she knew would care not at all for him. And though she despaired, her will to continue living for Maeglin’s sake overrode the pain and the fear that ever threatened to part her fëa and hröa.

Thus, Maeglin’s early childhood was fraught with fear and despair. Though he himself was rarely subject to abuse, he was severely neglected, and on occasion he would witness the abuse his mother endured. When he was twelve years old, however, he became interested in forge work, and would often watch Eöl work in secret. He took up crafting himself, and forged a small dagger in Eöl’s style, hoping to impress his father and gain his attention. This was both for its own sake, as well as a way to, he hoped, lessen Eöl’s anger toward his mother by showing him that despite his Ñoldorin appearance he still wished to follow his father’s craft. It worked, and for a time, Eöl’s anger was lessened as he taught Maeglin his craft.

It did not last, however. Maeglin remained closer to his mother, and held a great fascination for Aredhel’s people, and desired to embrace that part of his heritage. Though he spoke rarely of it to Eöl, it did not go unmarked. As Maeglin grew, Eöl became incredibly controlling of him as well, wishing to keep him from behaving in ways Eöl disliked and punishing him when he was “too Ñoldorin.”

And so the lives of Aredhel and Maeglin became caught in a balance— neither of them faded, though they more than easily could have, because in doing so they would each leave the other friendless and without an ally. They each held on for one another, and that willpower was enough to keep them both alive, until they fled Nan Elmoth and escaped to Gondolin when Maeglin was a young adult.

Had either of them spoken up when Eöl arrived in Gondolin, perhaps many dark things could have been prevented. But due to fear, and in Maeglin’s case still some love for Eöl, they said nothing to Turgon of the abuse.

In short, while Elven marriage and sex must be consensual, or result in death, as long as there is believed to be consent, this can be somewhat loose. With effective manipulation, one can be convinced that they are giving consent of their own will, even though they are not, and do not truly desire the relationship. It is not common between Elves, but it is not impossible, and a dark, unhappy contrast to the typical, loving Elven marriage.

[smaidjor]

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 3)

Hey everyone and welcome to the third and likely final chapter of this saga! When I was writing this, I told my friends it might end up the shortest chapter.

Spoiler alert: it was not, in fact, the shortest chapter.

Anyways, thank you guys for sticking with me through this insane journey of angst writing! The story doesn't end here, but the fic does because I think I'm going to be switching how I write it a little bit. You'll see if I ever get the energy to write the continuation.

(Also, I've stopped putting AO3 links in the actual post because then it doesn't show up in the tag.)

Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Title: to turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 4686

Content warnings: mentions of death, violence, blood, mild injury, religion, self-esteem issues. There is also something that could be considered similar to deadnaming, though the character is not necessarily trans, so read with caution if that could be triggering to you.

Actual fic under the cut:

That night, Scott dreams he’s a child again, playing amongst the peaks with Xornoth by his side. They laugh as they dart out of his reach, and he jumps over a rock to try and catch them.

“Too slow,” Xornoth snickers, and Scott glares at them.

“Someday I’ll be ten times as fast as you, and stronger too!”

They laugh again and tackle him into the grass, forceful enough to push him down but not enough to really hurt. “Alright, little bro.”

“You’re only older by seven minutes!”

“Seven minutes, more like seven times cooler than you!”

Scott reaches up and tickles them, grinning wickedly as they yelp and roll off him.

The scene shifts, and this time it’s a teenaged Xornoth laying on the hill beside him, staring up at the sky.

“Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything ever happens to me-”

“It won’t,” Scott interrupts, heart in his throat. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“It could-”

“No.”

They sigh. “Alright. But if it ever does, I need you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to promise that you’ll take care of Rivendell.”

Scott glares at them. “Rivendell hates me. Don’t ask-”

“Please. Scott, please just promise me this one thing.” Their face is deathly serious. “I don’t- nothing’s going to happen to me, but I need to know that Rivendell will be safe if anything does.”

"But-"

"Please, Scott. I know you would do brilliant at it, and I need the guarantee.

He sighs but ultimately gives in. “I wouldn't, but fine. I promise.”

Xornoth nods, seemingly satisfied. “You’re leaving tonight, right?”

“I am.”

“Then take this.” They roll over and press something into his hand. “You’ll need it.”

Scott looks down to see Vilya, the silver band gleaming in the sunlight. “Xor, you can’t give me this. This is-”

“I know perfectly well what it is, little bro.” He looks up to find them smiling sadly. “And I know you’ll need it. Now better wake up, your husband’s calling.”

“My wha-”

Scott’s plunged back into awareness to the sound of Jimmy calling his name.

“Scott? Please?” He sounds shaken, but it barely registers in Scott’s sleepy brain.

Scott rolls over and blinks his eyes open to see Jimmy watching him with concern. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy says, urgent. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That wakes Scott up, alright, the fear in his husband’s voice sending a spike of worry through him as he sits up. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” He trusts Jimmy more than anything else, really, which is why he gets up and out of bed. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you,” Scott teases.

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott can’t help but laugh at how offended his husband sounds, but his mirth dies as quickly as it came. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.” It’s making the hairs on his arm stand up, a prickling unease similar to what he felt before the battle where Jimmy died.

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott grabs his favorite axe, glancing back at Jimmy one more time. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

He swings the door open. It takes a moment to spot what’s wrong, but once he does, his heart plummets; Xornoth is standing across the valley next to his enchanting tower, their face and body twisted with corruption but still unmistakably Scott’s sibling.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses. He sounds terrified, and Scott can’t blame him, much as it feels like a punch to the gut to know that his sibling is the one who’s been harassing his husband.

Scott grits his teeth. Protect Rivendell, that’s what he promised Xornoth all those years ago. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay.” He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy’s response comes a second later. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.” The pure faith in the words is enough to make Scott’s throat close up for a moment, choked with sudden emotion at the level of trust Jimmy’s showing him even after everything that happened.

He shoves that feeling down. “Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.” Scott’s nearly begging, voice cracking a bit on the last word. Jimmy must hear how weak he sounds, because he gives in without question, handing over Vilya.

Scott slides it onto his finger, hands trembling just a bit as he does. He remembers being given this ring, being just as terrified by how much Xornoth trusted him then as he is by how much Jimmy trusts him now. Ironic, really, that now he’ll be using this ring against the person who gave it to him to begin with. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.” He keeps the instructions quick and clear, praying that Jimmy’s not stubborn enough to disobey. He can’t lose Jimmy, he can’t.

Thank god, Jimmy nods.

Scott takes another deep breath, brain awhirl as he tries to figure out how he’s going to keep both Jimmy and Rivendell safe. “From there, I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger.” After a moment's thought, he adds “I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.” Gilnar’s trustworthy, they’ll look after Jimmy.

“What about you?” Jimmy asks. “Will you be okay?”

His heart aches at the concern, and it aches more when he opens his mouth to lie. “I will, I promise.” He doesn’t meet Jimmy’s eyes, knowing he’ll break if he does.

Thankfully, Jimmy says nothing about it, instead reaching for one of the spare swords. Good, good, he can protect himself.

“Ready?” Scott asks.

“Ready,” Jimmy confirms, though his voice trembles.

Scott shoves down the part of him that screams that this wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility, that he should just run while he can. He made a promise to his sibling all those years ago, and he’s going to keep it even if it’s now them that he has to defend Rivendell from.

He steps out the door.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jimmy bolt for the stables, but the greater part of his attention is focused on Xornoth, still floating ominously across the valley.

“You do not belong here,” Scott calls out in Sindarin. It’s a challenge more than anything, practically asking them to come fight him.

He knows he’s messing with forces he doesn’t understand and cannot win against, knows it as surely as he knows his own name. Xornoth has always been faster and stronger, after all, ever since they were children.

And yet-

And yet he has to try regardless. After all, when they were children, Scott always tried to win anyways, even if it never worked. And now, the weight of an empire resting on his shoulders and his husband somewhere in the village behind him, the stakes are higher than just his pride. So he squares his shoulders and doesn’t back down as Xornoth appears in front of him with a ripple of smoke, a cruel smirk on their face.

“Well, well, well, dear brother. Never thought it’d come to this.”

“Neither did I,” Scott retorts.

They grin again. “I belong here just as much as you, you know.”

He raises his axe, gritting his teeth. “You did once, but not anymore.”

Xornoth laughs as they dart out of the way of his blows, tendrils of corruption curling around them and reaching for him. “I belong here more than you ever will.”

He stumbles back, trying to get out of their reach. “That’s not true either.”

“Oh, but it is. I thought you’d be too much of a coward to ever face me, you know. Spineless little Scott, running away from his problems like you ran away from our family.”

“We had no family left! It was just you and me!”

“And you left me to be consumed by my own greed and despair. The sibling you know died years ago and it’s all because you’re a coward.”

Scott flinches, barely bringing his axe up in time to block their next strike. “That’s not- that wasn't my fault! I didn't mean for that to happen."

“Do you really think that? Are you really foolish enough to think that you didn’t hurt me by leaving?” Xornoth’s grin is razor-sharp.

“You told me to leave if it would make me happier,” Scott cries, lapsing back into English without thinking about it.

“You shouldn’t have wanted to leave in the first place. No real elven ruler would want to leave the oldest sanctuary of the elves.”

They have him backing up again and again, barely holding them off. “I tried- I was-”

“Look at you, an elf speaking a human language,” Xornoth hisses. “How did you ever think you were going to be good enough for them? You’re never going to be the real king of Rivendell, Elinar.”

“Don’t- don’t call me that,” Scott pants.

“Elinar,” they taunt again. “Stupid, stupid Elinar. Weak, pathetic little Elinar.”

Scott stumbles backward, landing on his butt in the grass as Xornoth towers over him. His axe falls to the side, snatched by a tendril of corruption as they reach out, digging their claws into his shoulders and pushing him down. Scott’s helpless to do anything when those same tendrils reach for him, the smell of rot permeating the air. They hesitate for a moment, hovering above him, and then Xornoth grins sadistically and the corruption snatches him.

It hurts. It hurts more than any pain he’s ever felt. More than Etho’s arrow in his throat, more than Martyn’s arrow to the chest, more than Ren’s sword through his back. More than even waking up back in Rivendell. The corruption wraps itself around his throat and wrists, pinning him to the ground as his older sibling grins. Scott distantly registers that he’s screaming, writhing as he tries to get out of their hold, but everything’s fuzzy with his brain clouded by pain. He doesn’t want to die, not like this. Anything but this.

There’s a faint, familiar voice in the distance, though Scott can’t focus on what it’s saying through the haze of pain. It sounds comforting, though, and he clings to the noise like a lifeline.

All of the sudden, the pain stops and the corruption draws back slightly as Xornoth turns away.

“What did you say to me?” they hiss, in English this time.

“I said you’re ugly!” The same voice calls, and this time Scott recognizes it as Jimmy. Oh, god, Jimmy. “And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

Xornoth loosens their hold on Scott’s shoulders, turning towards wherever Jimmy is, and Scott’s gets a rush of determination. He can’t let them hurt Jimmy.

Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free of their hold with strength he didn’t know he still had. They give a tiny yelp of surprise, a familiar sound, and he staggers to his feet.

This time, he doesn’t bother with the axe. Instead, he forces his will into Vilya, praying to any and every god that it will work for him. He doesn’t even believe in the elven gods any longer, and yet he’s still praying to Aeor, to Varda, to Manwe, to any deity out there that he’s enough of a true elvenking to make a ring of power bend to his will.

“You are not welcome here!” Scott shouts, and he feels the ancient strength of Vilya behind his words.

Xornoth hisses, staggering backwards. “Fine! Banish me, then, if you’re a true enough king to do it. Run back to your mortal lover, Elinar, and pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are.”

He doesn’t flinch, though it’s a close thing. “Leave! Leave and never return!”

This time, Vilya pulses more strongly, and Xornoth is forced out of Rivendell with a hum of power.

Scott stumbles as that rush of power leaves him, collapsing to the ground. His entire body aches from the fight, but more than that, Xornoth’s last words are still ringing in his mind. Pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are. They’re right. He knows they’re right, and that’s the worst part about it.

“Scott! Scott!” He can hear Jimmy call, and within a minute, Jimmy’s standing in front of him.

Scott looks up at his husband- his beautiful, brave husband who he’s never once deserved- his breathing ragged as he tries to reach out. “Jimmy,” He manages, a hoarse whisper.

Jimmy kneels by him, concern written across his face clear as day. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” Scott grabs him and yanks him into a hug, hardly daring to believe he’s real.

“Oh,” Jimmy says, quiet, dumbstruck. He hugs Scott oh-so-gently, though his embrace isn’t enough to soothe Scott’s trembling. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott gasps. He needs his husband, needs him to be okay. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over.” It sounds so childish, but he’s so tired. “I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott wants to shout it, scream it to the world, because it’s not fair. He wasn’t supposed to be heir to Rivendell. He wasn’t supposed to have a ring of power. He wasn’t supposed to be forced to fight his own sibling. It’s not fair, but it happened anyways. It happened anyways, and that’s what breaks him, voice cracking as he begs for something, though he doesn’t even know what he wants at this point. Peace, maybe. Happiness. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy .”

He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, searching for any small scrap of comfort as his sobs tear him to pieces, clutched in his husband’s arms on the grass. Jimmy’s so gentle with him, his embrace so kind as he presses soft kisses to Scott’s head and murmurs in a comforting tone, though Scott’s too far lost in his own head to hear any of what Jimmy says. His world narrows to warm arms around him, the texture of Jimmy’s shirt clutched between his fingers. Jimmy smells like dirt and swamp water- it’s the silliest thing to notice when Scott’s busy sobbing over having to fight his own sibling, but it’s easier to think about than anything else. It’s easier to think about Jimmy than anything else, really, easier to cling to the sound of his voice and his hand on Scott’s back than confront the way Scott’s grief is eating him alive.

Distantly, he can hear footsteps approaching. They’re too light to be anything but elven, not that that’s a surprise when they’re in the home of the elves. He can’t bring himself to lift his head and face them, not when his breath is still coming quick and ragged.

Gilnar’s first to speak, hesitant concen leaking into their words. “Uh, milord?”

Scott can feel Jimmy’s grip tighten protectively, can practically imagine his affronted look as he opens his mouth to snap back. “Give him a goddamn minute! He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!” He winces a little, knowing the elves are going to tear Jimmy to shreds for that.

Indeed, one of his advisors speaks up, disdain clear in their tone. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

It’s ever the way of elven royalty- their rulers cannot dare be flawed.

“He’s too young for this,” Someone else mutters. There’s as much pity in their tone as there is disdain, a strange mix of concern and derision.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one!” Jimmy’s voice rises with every sentence. Scott wants to tell him to spare the outrage- he’s not worth it. “Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” his advisor sniffs, and Scott’s blood boils at how rude they’re being to Jimmy.

It’s that outrage that gives him the energy to raise his head, forcing his breathing to steady out. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.” You shouldn’t be defending me, he doesn’t say. I’m not worth your outrage.

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues back.

Scott almost laughs, knowing full well that they can and should. Instead, though, he breaks free of Jimmy’s embrace and gets to his feet with far more effort than that should really take. “Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has.” His voice comes out hoarse, and he’s barely aware of what he’s saying, but he forces himself to carry on. “Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, the quickest excuse he can think of. He grabs Jimmy’s hand, dragging him away as quickly as he can manage, and ignores the stares that follow him.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott’s legs give out, sending him into a chair with an undignified thump. “Well, fuck me to the End and back.”

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy sounds more concerned than anything.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.” That’s just how it is- he doesn’t bother getting upset over it at this point. He’s always going to be second-best.

“Oh.” Jimmy hesitates, and then asks “Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified of Jimmy’s reaction, but he has nothing left to lose, so he laughs bitterly and answers honestly. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

“What?”

“My twin. My older sibling.” He gives another little laugh. “The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.” Who was better than Scott in every way.

“What?” Jimmy sounds shocked and confused, but not angry, not yet, so Scott elaborates.

“Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.” Old legend says that elven twins are only born in times of great conflict, and Scott can’t exactly say it's wrong.

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott spits the word a bit like a curse, not because he hates humans, but because he hates himself and all the ways he’s too much like them. He closes his eyes against a fresh set of tears, blinking away the memory of Xornoth’s face when he left Rivendell. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently. It’s such a Jimmy way to react to something so serious, Scott might laugh if the mood were lighter.

“When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically.” Scott taps the ring that’s still resting on his middle finger, feeling it hum in return. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott feels Jimmy take his hand, and looks up to see gentle concern written across his husband’s face. He has to blink again, turning away and forcing his voice to stay steady. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests. He sounds so very sincere about it, which makes it all the more heartbreaking how utterly wrong he is.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, letting a little of his fondness show. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Something like confusion flashes across Jimmy’s face, and then he opens his mouth again. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

Scott looks away again, his cheeks heating up. “….Maybe.”

“Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?” JImmy’s half-laughing, but the sentiment behind the words sounds real. Too real, Scott thinks; it’s as if Jimmy doesn’t know just how incredible he truly is.

“You’re the most precious thing in my life,” Scott tells him, and he means every word. “I gave you everything I could offer.”

It’s kind of adorable how quickly Jimmy flushes, his face going red and his voice rising an octave. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks- perfectly innocently, mind you.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean!” He definitely doesn’t. “That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!” Jimmy adds, and Scott grins a little. Jimmy’s just too fun to fluster.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he denies, though he’s sure his smile is giving him away as less innocent than he claims.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” Scott barely restrains a yawn from slipping into his voice, trying to wipe some of the blood off his face so it’ll stop getting in his eyes.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers. Scott’s too tired to protest his fussing, letting Jimmy dab at the cut with a wet rag and bandage it. Jimmy moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. It’s sweet, really, how fussed he is over even the smallest injury. Scott doesn’t think he deserves Jimmy taking care of him this gently, but he can’t bring himself to push him away.

Even if it is a bit annoying that Jimmy’s making him do math to check if he has a concussion. “Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy,” Scott huffs, “Ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy.” Scott must sound like a whiny child, but he’s tired.

“Just a bit more? For me?” Jimmy asks. And oh, that bastard, he’s giving Scott the face that Scott can’t ever say no to. Bastard. Absolute bastard. Scott won’t give in, he won’t.

That determination lasts all of ten seconds before Scott sighs and gives in. “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to whine about

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy’s laughter is worth every second of the math, actually, Scott decides as his husband bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott tells him. He’s trying to sound affronted, but it just comes out fond, much to his exasperation.

Jimmy laughs again and sets about making pancake batter, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to steal bits of even when Jimmy scolds him for it. It’s peaceful, being able to lean back in his chair and laugh when his husband tries to scold him for flirting. The morning light streams in through his window, casting the side of Jimmy’s face in a golden glow, He looks so alive silhouetted like that, a grin splitting his face and bits of flour in his hair. Scott’s breath catches for a minute just looking at him, the familiar ache in his chest returning, though there’s nothing truly tragic about the scene before him.

He shakes that off when Jimmy offers him the first pancake, shoving thoughts of the future aside. For now, he’ll drink hot chocolate in a sunlit kitchen and pretend his hands don’t tremble just enough to nearly spill it. He’s not going to think about the cuts and bruises scattered across his body, not when Jimmy is looking at him like that, with such utter adoration that Scott can barely believe his luck. How did he get a husband so sweet and warm when he’s as bitterly cold as a Rivendell winter? But whether he deserves it or not, Jimmy’s right there laughing along with him, and Scott can’t find it in himself to be unhappy about it.

This won’t last, he thinks as he watches Jimmy try to fit an entire pancake in his mouth just to see if he can. If Jimmy doesn’t die to his own idiocy or the cruel will of Xornoth, time will take him from Scott as surely as the stars shine above Rivendell. Scott is not Luthien or Idril or Arwen, the elven royals lucky enough to spend the rest of eternity with their mortal husbands; Jimmy will die, likely sooner rather than later, and Scott will be alone with the cold weight of a crown to bear and no sunshine to warm him.

This won’t last, but Scott says nothing of it, sipping his hot chocolate and smiling a little sadly into the mug as Jimmy rambles about different types of fish and their personalities. And if his hands are still cold, and he can’t stop a small shiver? Well, Rivendell has always been a cold empire, hasn’t it?

[rallamajoop]

The Witcher: The Games vs The Books

Coming to the fandom this late, I can only assume the relationship between the Witcher games and the original novels has been long since talked to death by others. But I'm far too fascinated by the whole glorious mess that is this canon not to want to get down some of my own thoughts about how it all fits together.

See, on the one hand, the games (Witcher 3 especially) are arguably only too dependent on the novels to stand alone. They do a wonderful job of picking up a number of unresolved plot points the books left hanging, and a woeful job of explaining so much a player coming in cold would really like to know – Ciri's history with Geralt, Yennefer, her powers and the Wild Hunt itself just to begin with. This is an issue that only increases as the games go along: cliche as Geralt's amnesia may be, it's used to good effect to introduce the world to the player in the first game. By the third, Geralt has all his old memories back and two extra games worth of new experience, and good lord is it all alienating to the newcomer.

On the other hand, so much about the games (again, the third especially) contradicts the novels in painfully irreconcilable ways. That wouldn't necessarily bother me – adaptations are allowed to rework and reinvent, stories can and should evolve in the retelling – except, well, see point one above. So you're bound to come out of the games with a lot of unanswered questions if you haven't read the books, and just as many if you have.

Spoilers to follow, of course, for both the books and the games.

Here's one of the big ones: just how did the world – Ciri included – discover that one of her long-presumed-dead parents was actually alive and well and now ruling the entire empire of Nilfgaard? Fucked if I know. Neither the games or the novels have any explanation. In the novels, in fact, the world at large believes Ciri is married to the emperor of Nilfgaard. Naturally, this 'Cirilla' is a fake, but the scandal were the full truth ever revealed would redefine Emhyr's reign. Yet somehow, in the games, everyone seems to know he's Ciri's father, and that whole awkward incest angle is never mentioned. Continuity has been tweaked pretty significantly, and it's left to the player to guess how. If that wasn’t bad enough, the games apparently still included a Gwent card of the fake!Cirilla (artwork above) just to ensure maximum confusion.

Before I get too sidetracked with all that stuff that doesn’t add up though, there really is a lot to be said for what does work about how the games expand on the plot of the novels. The Wild Hunt itself is the big one. The spectral cavalcade appears several times through the novels and hunts Ciri across multiple worlds in the final book before apparently losing her trail and vanishing to make way for the 'real' big bad, never to be mentioned again. While TW3 left me pretty underwhelmed by the revelation that the spectral Wild Hunt were just a bunch of dark elves in skull armor, the books had introduced the Hunt and let us spend some time on the dark elves' world before we get the reveal that the two may be one and the same. So for all the ranting I could do about missed opportunities regarding the Wild Hunt, they're the natural candidate for the games to pick up on as their new big-bads.

To my surprise, Geralt and Yennefer's "deaths" and subsequent recovery in pseudo-Avalon also comes straight from the novels. That everyone thinks Geralt dead at the start of the first game isn't, as I'd first assumed, a convenient excuse to have him reappear with amnesia, but simply how the novels end. Why Ciri leaves them and goes world-hopping isn't clear, but "because the Wild Hunt was after her again" is as good a theory as any. So, another point to the games there.

And there's so much more. The Catriona plague has only just appeared at the end of the novels, but we know it's posed for a major outbreak – one that’s in progress by the time of the games. The second game in particular does a terrific job of taking the ambitions of the expansionist Nilfgaardian Empire and the still-relatively-new Lodge of Sorceresses and building an entirely new conflict around them – even taking two of the least developed members of the Lodge (Sabrina Glevissig and Síle de Tansarville) and expanding them into major players. Dijkstra similarly ends the novels on the run from those in power, and having already taken the same assumed name 'Sigi Reuven' he's using in the games – while the books assure us that prince Radovid will grow up to pay back his father's assassins (ie. Phillipa) and become Radovid the Stern.

The twisted fairy tale origins of the novels are something the games actually seem to have gotten better at as they went on: the 'trail of treats' to the Crones is the great example, the monster-frog-prince and the land-of-a-thousand-fables of the expansions are two more, and many more are hidden in sidequests. And I'd be remiss not to mention that in again asking Geralt to pick a side in the conflict with the Scoia'tael, the first two games not only recreate a scenario Geralt repeatedly deals with in the books, but a major theme. It's interesting too how much the broad structure of the third game feels like an homage to the books, with Geralt searching for Ciri, interspersed with sections from her POV. You can nitpick the detail of any of these examples, but the intent is unmistakable, and a lot of credit is due for it in the execution too.

Some of the detail that's gone into translating the world of the Witcher books into the games is just insane – not just in the geography and history of the place, but right down to the names of the wine you can pick up. There's the fact the Cat potion makes Geralt see in black-and-white, or the fact the basilisk and cockatrice monsters are clearly based on the same model, but the basilisk is reptilian where as the cockatrice is more avian – which is exactly how Geralt describes the difference between them in The Lady of the Lake. There's a point where Book!Regis recounts a detailed list of all the lesser vampiric species, ending with the only two violent enough to tear apart their victims: almost all can be encountered in the games, and the last two (Fleders and Ekimma) are indeed the most animalistic. This kind of thing is everywhere.

My favourite examples tend to be those that blend into the background if you haven't read the books, but will get a grin from those who have, such as a peasant in Velen who will call out to Geralt (paraphrased from memory, alas) "Sir, sir! We be up to our ears in mamunes, imps, kobolds, hags, flying drakes... oh, and bats!" – which is a lovely little reference to a couple of conversations from Edge of the World wherein Geralt explains that most of the monsters the locals want him to take care of don't actually exist. Or all those soldiers chanting "Long live King Radovid!" – natural enough, but it takes on a whole new life if you've read the passage in Lady of the Lake where the young prince Radovid grumbles internally about having to sit and listen to the city chanting 'long live...' to every other notable figure present except him.

Really, it would be faster to list the things the games introduced that don't come from the original source material in any obvious form, because it's a struggle to come up with very many. The villainous Crones of Crookback Bog and Master Mirror of the Hearts of Stone expansion are the biggest ones that come to mind, along with a great deal of the vampire mythology from Blood and Wine. To the witchers themselves, they’ve added mostly game mechanics: the use of bombs and blade oils, the names of most of the potions, and three new witcher schools (all with their own specialised gear). There are a number of new creatures and monsters – Godlings, noon-and-night-wraiths, botchlings, shaelmaars and so on – and though trolls are mentioned in the books, the games take credit for giving them so much character. Obviously, there are new characters, like Thaller and Roche – but not technically Iorveth, because a Scoia'tael commander of that name is mentioned in the books, if only in passing. And already, short of just listing off every new character the games introduced, I’m running out of ideas. Credit where credit’s due on that front: most of the new characters and locations they’ve created feel authentic enough that Kalkstein or Thaller would be right at home in the novels’ world.

But for all their dedication to the detail, it's hard to feel like the games have really managed to capture the spirit of the books in their storytelling: the mundanely corrupt bureaucracy that does so much to bring the world to life, or their cheerfully cynical sense of humour, or the flamboyant wonder that is book!Dandelion, or their enthusiasm for putting women in positions of power, or the bigger themes about the differences between the story that gets sung by the bards and what really happened – or so much else from the novels that came as such a surprise to me when I started getting really sucked in.

And if we’re going to talk about all the little things they got right, it’s only fair to point out there are just as many little things they got wrong, and sometimes pretty glaringly at that. "I thought you bowed to no-one" says Emhyr to Geralt – almost as if book!Geralt doesn’t happily bow in most every situation where it would be polite or diplomatic to do so. "This would never have happened if the council was still around!" says Geralt upon finding a sorcerer's lab full of human experiments – as if none of his experiences with Vilgefortz or the wizards of Rissberg ever happened, back when the council was very much still around. In TW2, he mocks the idea of a woman like Saskia leading a rebellion – almost as if women like Falka and Aelirenn haven't led some of the most storied rebellions in history (and we can't even blame the amnesia, because Geralt himself mentions Aelirenn later – oh yeah, this one annoyed me particularly).

 Book!verse 'Lady of the Lake' is basically just Ciri being surprised while bathing

Yennefer's studious aethiesm and willingness to desecrate Freya's temple is entirely in character – but only if we forget that she had her own personal religious experience with the goddess Freya herself in Tower of the Swallow. And then there’s the fact the Lady of the Lake is now a literal lake nymph who distributes swords to the worthy, as if no-one writing for the games ever got past the title of that particular Witcher novel (let alone got the joke). And the list goes on. It's easy to get overly caught up in contradictions like this – it's hardly as if Sapkowski's novels don't contradict themselves in places, as almost any long-running series eventually will – but it's going to stick out to those who’ve read the novels nonetheless.

While we're talking about how the games pick up where the books left off though, the big contradiction that has to be touched on comes in bringing Geralt back at all, at least in any public capacity. There's plenty to suggest that Geralt survives the novels' end and even goes on to have further adventures, but it's also pretty explicit that the history books record his death in the Pogrom of Rivia as final. The last two novels by order of publication (Season of Storms and Lady of the Lake) go so far as to feature characters far in the future with an interest in Geralt's legacy, and they discuss the matter in some depth. As far as the world knows, Geralt is dead.

  Book!Geralt fanart by Diana Novich

But it's hard to blame the games for ignoring this – true, thanks to Geralt's longevity, they could have set their conflict many more years after those future scenes – maybe even used Ciri's established time-travel powers to let you pop quietly in and out of the past (and, okay, now I've thought through all that, I'm kind of sad they didn't). But there comes a point where that kind of slavish devotion to preserving the source material really doesn't do a story any favours, and I'm not sure I could name any other successful adaptation that's bothered.

Besides bringing Geralt back at all, most of the bigger changes pertain to Ciri. In fact, as much as I'm about to get deep into the nitpicks below, you can make a surprisingly good case that the games have made only one really big change, and that's in simplifying the prophesies surrounding her. See, in the novels, all those world-saving prophesies aren't technically about Ciri, they're about her as-yet-unborn child. Who gets to impregnate her is the big driving force behind most of the villains of the books – one that all the main contenders seem to see as more of an awkward necessity rather than the inspiration for violent lust, but even so. To Emhyr, having to marry his own daughter is a bug, not a feature – but he's willing to do it to become the father of the savior of the world. But if Ciri is capable of fulfilling those prophesies herself, then Emhyr is already the father of the savoir of the world, and the revisions to his relationship with Ciri start to make a lot more sense.

Ciri's history with the Aen Elle elves seems to have been similarly revised – if not quite so cleanly. Avallac’h and Eredin are, naturally, both book characters – in fact, a lot of personality has been left behind in the books, since Avallac’h originally had a rather camp flair, and Eredin is less the power-hungry kingslayer you might imagine. When Geralt meets Avallac’h in the books – which happens briefly in Toussaint, for one of those "everything you're doing is going to make everything worse because prophesy" conversations – he's busy decorating a cave with fake prehistoric paintings in the hope of confusing future explorers. (Surprisingly, there does seem to be official art of this moment on one of the gwent cards – see above – though the Avallac’h who jokes about adding erect phalluses to the picture and admits his vanity won’t allow him to resist signing it hasn’t entirely survived the transition to the new medium).

We also meet the former Alder King, Auberon, whose death we see in flashback in the game. (Fun fact: Auberon is actually blowing bubbles through a straw in a bowl of soapy water when we first meet him in the books, hence the straw in the illustration below. The books just have more whimsy than any of the games would know what to do with.)

Ciri spends some time in the final book as a prisoner on the world of the elves, who are as keen as everyone else for their king to father her unborn child. Avallac’h eventually convinces her that this is all for the greater good: her child will be able to open gates to allow the people of her world to escape when the apocalyptic White Frost arrives. But their king, like most older elves, is impotent, leading to multiple nights where Ciri allows him to take her to bed (in some of the frankly more disturbing scenes of the series) to no result. Eredin, moreover, doesn't appear to have intended to poison the king: the vial that kills him was supposed to contain some sort of fantasy viagra, and even Eredin seems genuinely shocked to learn its actual effects.

Regardless, Ciri eventually discovers that Avallac’h and the Aen Elle have deceived her, and intend to user her child's powers to invade her world, not save it. Neither world is threatened by the White Frost for at least several millennia, it's just a pretext to make her cooperate. And so she flees, and Eredin (already leading his Red Riders aka The Wild Hunt long before he was crowned king) pursues her.

With the books as context, why Ciri would ever trust Avallac’h is very hard to understand. It's a little easier if that whole awful episode with her and the former king is subtracted out – Ciri's child is no longer necessary for Eredin's goals. So it's odd that the game still references the deadly vial Eredin gave to the king. Are we to suppose the vial genuinely contained poison in this version of continuity? I'd rather it didn't – Avallach's ruse is far more interesting if he underwhelms Eredin's support by revealing a half-truth – but the games aren't telling us.

And then we have to factor in that one last detail I'd forgotten when I originally started playing with this theory: TW3 does contain one last, dangling reference to the time the old king spent trying to impregnate Ciri, when Ge'els very reasonably asks why on earth Ciri would ever trust Avallac’h now. It's a damn good question, and the game offers no real answers. So in Avallac’h, we're left with a character who is vital to the final chapters of the games, who comes out of nowhere without the books as context, but whose role makes no sense with that backstory in mind. Frankly, the writers would have been much better off avoiding the whole mess altogether and inventing some new character to take Avallac’h's place.

The treatment of the White Frost is even more confusing. The books are ultimately fairly explicit about just what the White Frost is: a ice age, most likely caused by the same mundane climactic factors that produced the real ice ages of our history. The only escape is intergalactic emigration, as Ciri (or her children) might some day enable.

In the games, the White Frost has instead become some sort of nebulous, free-floating apocalypse which will eventually reach all worlds, which is basically fine – up to a point. We briefly visit a dead world that the Frost has decimated, and even the Aen Elle are now supposedly planning to invade Ciri's world because it threatens theirs as well (I mean, apparently – their motivations are so underdeveloped you could miss them by accidently skipping just one or two lines of dialogue). When the Wild Hunt appears, it's always in a haze of cold. Their mages can invoke its power still more dramatically through portals which can freeze you in your tracks. So obviously, the Frost has already reached their world, and time is running out, right?

Well, no – you visit their world too (again, briefly – to meet a character who has never been mentioned before and won't be again, for reasons which have also never been mentioned before if you haven't read the books) – and there's no Frost in sight, apocalyptic or otherwise.

So why does the White Frost follow the Hunt around? No idea. It's never explained.

At the very end of the game, a second "Conjunction of the Spheres" occurs (possibly because of the Wild Hunt's appearance?), and the Frost begins to invade (or possibly Avallac’h summons it, so Ciri can go into it and destroy it?) It's all painfully unclear. The game is too busy pulling a bait-and-switch over whether Avallac’h's betrayed you to tell you what's actually going on instead.

But if Ciri could destroy the Frost completely (at great personal risk, but still) why is this not more clearly set up? Why did the Aen Elle think that escaping to another world (which will ALSO eventually be destroyed by the Frost) was a better solution than sending Ciri to face the Frost directly? For which matter, why do the Aen Elle need Ciri at all if sending enough ships to carry an army is no problem? Why does Ciri spend so much of the game questioning Avallac’h's true intentions, if they were ultimately so noble? When did he tell her the truth? If Avallac’h did summon the Frost, why did he pick that particular moment? And if he didn't, and it all just happened spontaneously, we're back to questioning why invading that world ever seemed like a good solution to Eredin – it all collapses in on itself.

None of these questions couldn't have been answered with a little creativity, but then the game would've had to dedicate some real time to explaining its backstory and developing its core conflict – something it's bizarrely reluctant to do. And if you think I may be drifting from the point a bit in the name of getting all my gripes about the ending down in one place, you're not wrong, but I feel Avallac’h and everything surrounding him is pretty much the ur-example of what doesn't work about the way The Witcher 3 depends on the novels: the backstory the writers are building on doesn't actually exist in any format available to the rest of us.

There are plenty of ways TW3 could have incorporated its backstory into its own narrative (yes, even excluding the method "by expecting people to read many many more pages of text from in-game documents", because that's bullshit and always will be). There are times it does this brilliantly, such as in the quest ‘The Last Wish’: everything you really need to know is covered in Yennefer and Geralt's conversation in the boat, and without ever making the dialogue sound unnatural. In fact, TW3 has even more options here than many works with the same problem, because Geralt is famous and people already think they know his story. You could have bards singing Dandelion's ballads, you could have characters confronting him with misunderstandings about his past to force him to correct them. You could also have Geralt visiting people and places he knows Ciri remembers fondly because of the time they spent there together, or include playable flashbacks similar to the time you spend playing as Ciri. You could stick chunks of backstory in optional sidequests or scenes old-school fans can skip through quickly. So many of my questions (how did Ciri get so close to Yennefer if they were never at Kaer Morhen together? Why has no-one tried training Ciri in her powers before? What does the Wild Hunt even do while it's not hunting Ciri? Why is Ciri princess of Cintra if her father is Emperor of another country altogether?) could have been answered so easily.

Seriously, summarising the Witcher books is not that hard. Lots of things happen, but only a fraction of it is really relevant in retrospect, and you could hit all the major plot beats in a handful of paragraphs. (Heck, I’d do it here if this post wasn’t already ridiculously over long.)

But then, TW3 has a bizarre problem with leaving so much of its best material off screen, even from its own story. It's criminal that we never get to see any of Geralt's time (or Yennefer's) with the Wild Hunt, even in flashback or dream sequence. This is material that directly sets up the relationship between the main hero and the main villain, and the most we ever hear about it is a few vague allusions to it being like a strange nightmare. Really? That's it? What was it like? Was Geralt in a trance, unable to control his own actions – was he brainwashed into believing he belonged there, or was he merely unable to escape? What atrocities might Eredin have forced him to commit? Did he visit other worlds? Was he paraded among the Aen Elle as a captive? There is no way this isn’t a part of the story worth talking about!

We never see the moment Ciri rescues Geralt from the Wild Hunt. We never see how Avallac’h convinces her to trust him, we never see the moment he was cursed, or any of her efforts to save him – all these big, story-defining moments are left off-screen, to be vaguely recounted to you later in dialogue. Then there's the entire political situation in Nilfgaard – you hear about it second-hand, and it's all resolved off screen. And the list goes on. Yet you and Ciri still have time to run around Novigrad so she can thank a bunch of throwaway characters you've never even heard of before, nor will again. The priorities on display here are baffling.

The Witcher 3 was such a wildly successful game that it’s obvious these sorts of issues didn’t seriously hold it back, and it’s such a big game that I could have sat down and written just as many words focusing only on the parts that do work without much difficulty. It boasts stunning visuals, addictive gameplay and some truly wonderful characters, and so many parts of the story work brilliantly in isolation that it’s strange to come out of it feeling that it ultimately adds up to so much less than the sum of its parts.

I’m glad TW3 exists – if it hadn’t been such a runaway success I doubt I’d ever have discovered Sapkowski’s universe at all, but for myself, TW3 will probably always be remembered as a somewhat-overlong introduction to the really good stuff, in the expansions and the original novels it came from. I looked up the novels after finishing TW3 in large part because I’d been left with so many unanswered questions – and I’m glad I did, but I’m honestly surprised more people weren’t turned off by TW3′s scattershot approach to its own narrative. You’re allowed to change and rework in moving to a new medium, but I can’t imagine it would’ve hurt games’ success to tell a complete story in the process.

[yourfinalbow]

hi lol this is totally random but based on a harry potter post you just reblogged and you can completely ignore me if you want, but do you think snape deserved better, or are you a quote unquote "snape apologist"? I'm genuinely curious cuz I've come across a lot of different opinions on severus. Again, feel free to ignore :)

This ended up way longer than it needed to be, and I apologize for that lmao.

Hi! Hmmm I have many mixed opinions on this. First we have to talk about which Snape. Book!Snape is actually kind of an asshole, and not in the fun way. (Way more than I remembered.) But but but Alan Rickman!Snape I like a lot.

And no I'm not mentioning Snape from TCC. That was not Snape and that world was not Harry Potter.

Snape is an interesting character because of how flawed and layered he is.

(Putting a cut because it's so long, and tw for non-detailed mentions/reference to abuse, as well as both trauma and death.)

He wasn't born in a very good household, which I can definitely see as being a reason for why he is who he is. (A reason, not an excuse. Those are two extremely different things.) You look at Sirius, who also came from a horrible household, yet he managed to dig himself out of the mud and make his own path for himself. (Though I have many angsty headcanons for the thoughts he has and being afraid of what he will do and in turn his own mind. WolfStar solidarity. Neither one of them know what they are truly capable of, and both are completely afraid to find out.

Ahem sorry I got a little distracted there.

During the Marauder's era, Snape wasn't a good person in general, but he tried to be nice to Lily. (One of the only exceptions he made.) That being said, (sorry, going on a tangent again), it does not excuse what the Marauders did. As much as they are, in my humble opinion, JK's greatest creation, they should be held accountable for both the prank, and dangling Snape upside down. (Though Remus does make a few good points in their defense later, it's still not an excuse.) Two wrongs never make a right.

Snape doesn't deny Lily's claims at him wanting to join a supremacy group, nor does he say he isn't friends with Death Eaters.

It's clear through the flashbacks we're given that Snape is apathetic in the face of innocent people dying, but once again Lily is the exception.

Dumbledore defends Snape by saying it wasn't his fault that Harry's parents are dead. I actually semi-agree with this. On one hand, he was directly at fault, but on the other hand he had no way of knowing. As a severe Loki apologist, I do not blame Loki for Frigga's death. He may have led the dark elves to her, but he didn't know it was her she was sending them to. That's the comparison I make in my mind, and so I don't completely blame him like other people do. (One could also make the argument that Sirius is to blame. Sirius, who is 100% my favorite character in the entire franchise, gave the secret keeper job to Peter, thinking it would be safer with him. However, he had no ill will or malicious intentions towards Lily, James, and Harry, so I don't blame him.)

All that being said, Snape not only would have been fine with random people dying, he also didn't care whether or not James and Harry lived.

For context:

(Dumbledore is speaking, right after Snape comes to him for help.)

"You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child?" They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore.

He has a strange relationship with Lily. He obviously loves her, but not enough to want to stop Voldemort from killing the two things that bring her the most amount of happiness. It's clear he doesn't care about anyone except for Lily. Which on some level, I can understand why. When people have traumatic childhoods, they tend to hold on to a person that was there for them. Sometimes it can be the hands of the person who caused them pain in the first place, but other times it is another person who was there for him. He holds Lily's opinions of himself higher than anybody else, and he holds Lily above anybody else, and I think this can be attributed to some sort of trauma response, which is why his love for her is so unusual. That doesn't mean I think he should be fine with killing innocent people.

On the topic of trauma, I think joining the Death Eaters was another response to this, as well as a result of what kind of family he had.

Similar to both Harry and Voldemort, Snape much preferred Hogwarts to where he lived, and such the castle became his home more than his house ever was.

The Death Eaters could offer him something he had never been offered before. He belonged to something. In his own, twisted, traumatic mindset, he might have even almost seen the Death Eaters as a family. Not consciously of course, but there was definitely a feeling of belonging they gave him.

And there's something to be said about the fact that many serial killers in real life come from an abusive family. I don't pretend to understand the minds of someone who can do something so vile, but I have watched enough Criminal Minds episodes to know what they long for is control.

So being apart of this supremacy group, even though he was a half-blood himself and undoubtedly didn't entirely share Voldermort's racist beliefs, gave him both control and something he belonged to.

It's not an excuse, but it's a reason.

Alternatively, you can look at it through a quote from the most recent episode of Loki.

"It's part of the illusion. It's a cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

So it's also possible that when he was a kid, he thought being a villain was the only way to prevent others from being one to him.

Ok sorry, back on the chronological track.

So he agrees to change sides and work with Dumbledore. (Who must see just how distraught Snape was over Lily's death, to trust him immediately.)

Snape spends most of Harry's time at Hogwarts humiliating his own students. He particularly calls out Harry and his friends a lot, but I can definitely see this being a defence mechanism. He assumes Harry is James and reverts back to what we talked about earlier. (Becoming the villain so nobody else has a chance.)

But but but, he does a lot of good throughout the books. Snape mutters the countercurse, saving Harry from Quirrell during the Quidditch match. He then actually referees at the next match, preventing anything from happening altogether.

In retrospective, we see that he spends most of the first book helping Dumbledore by protecting the stone, and helping Lily by protecting Harry.

Now I could go through and list the goods and the bads of Snape throughout the entire series, but I have neither the time nor the patience, and I think you get the point.

(Except I would like the mention that Snape becomes a double agent for Dumbledore in book four, and risks his life every single day by constantly betraying Voldermort, and never once does he use this as a way to double cross Dumbledore. This was actually probably really hard on him. You can assume that having to pretend to be a Death Eater means he had to do some despicable things just so he didn't blow his cover. If he really has changed by this time, which I would like to think he has, is a lot of added guilt to live with.)

(I would also mention that he tried to save Sirius in book five, but... *falls on floor dramatically* I don't want to think about it.)

Severus Snape's time comes to the end in book seven. At the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, his death is a valiant act of sacrifice. Protecting the living and defending the honour of the fallen.

So, he has done a lot of bad in his lifetime, but by the time we as readers get to know him, his fundamental set of beliefs have begun to change. Through the eyes of what started as an eleven year old boy, you can definitely see that even after this he wasn't necessarily a good person.

And that's because his good is behind the scenes. He's good on a larger scale. He's chosen the light over darkness, but in his everyday life he's still the scared, traumatized little kid he's always been.

And him being this way has reasons, but these reasons are not excuses.

Sorry anon, this kind of turned into a long winded review of the entire character. I know that's not really what you asked, so I'll sum it up in a final few sentences sentence.

Yes. I wish Snape had gotten to live. Not because I'm necessarily a "Snape apologist", but because I find his character interesting, and seeing his reaction to his sacrifice could have been a really good read. Also Harry coming up and thanking him would have been really touching, and as a cherry on top maybe we could have gotten to read Harry apologizing for his father. Maybe even Snape sharing memories of Lily?! (Sorry that might have gotten a little to fanfic-y.)

That being said, his death being a final sacrifice towards the good of everyone, and a final testimony to his change of heart, was -- and I'll give JK credit just this once -- good storytelling, and a good way to end it.

Also I like movie!Snape because fuck yeah he's just so awesome.

If anyone has anything to add/take away, or they just want to discuss the wonder that was Alan Rickman, let me know! (Ask/Comment/Reblog/Etc.)

[trashy-goblin]

type: one-shot

title: Geordie

fandom: Lord of the Rings

summary: Aragorn and Gimli find amusement in singing to the hobbits of a tale about a time Geordie found herself in the cells of Erebor due to a misunderstanding that had Arwen come all the way from Rivendell to rescue her lover.

characters: oc; arwen; aragorn; gimli; frodo; sam; merry; pippin; gandalf (mentioned); legolas (mentioned); boromir (mentioned);

pairings: arwen/oc;

a/n: i wrote this in like... a day?? so that's my excuse for it to be so short.

wordcount: 1119

.

As soon as the sun began to set, the fellowhip prepared to set camp for the night.

Although the day had been tiring, the warm dinner Geordie had prepared gave them comfort and rejuvenated the remains of energy inside them. And so, what Pippin started with a story about stolen vegetables soon excalated to songs and tales.

Boromir told them of great battles Gondor fought and Gimli of the challenges dwarves had faced and conquered. Aragorn told tales of his and Geordie's adventures, while Legolas of the elves and spoke of their culture, just as the hobbits sang the wonders of the Shire.

"And what of you, Miss Geordie?" asked Sam, "Do you have any story or song to share?... If I may ask, of course?"

She smiled at the hobbit and his last question.

"My most interest adventures are shared with Aragorn," Geordie told him as she tended to the fire, "and I'm afraid he's already ran out of tales to tell."

"Oh I wouldn't say that, lass."

Gimli's enormous grin gained the other's attention more than his unexpected intrevention. A more discrete version of the amused grin soon was seen on Aragorn's face.

"There is one tale of yours which does not involve me" Aragorn rose his eyebrows in amusement as he spoke in a smile.

"But which involves my kin!" Gimli's voice vibrated with pride and laughter.

Gandalf too grinned at the sigh that left Geordie beside him, but noticed she didn't seem upset, just rather tired.

"Tell me, dear hobbits," said Gimli, "Have you ever heard a song called, precisely, Geordie?"

The hobbits looked at each other curiously although they all knew the answer.

"No, can't say that we have" Frodo answered.

"Well, from today on you can say you have," the dwarf told them, a grin still visible on his expression, "for I will tell you of the tale of Geordie, the dunedain who once found herself in the cells of Erebor..."

Gandalf chuckled at the amazement and curiosity found in the hobbits' eyes as soon as Gimli said those words. They looked at Geordie, who rose her eyebrows as she tiredly closed her eyes in a sight, but soon their attention was captured by Gimli's singing voice.

There was a battle in the North

And nobles there were many

They tried to kill Dáin son of Náin

And laid the blame on Geordie.

O she has written a long letter

And sent it to her lady Arwen:

"You must come up to Erebor town

To see what news of Geordie."

When first she looked the letter on

Geordie's heart gloome at the name of her lover, and a smile grew on her lips as Aragorn continued to sing.

She was both red and rosy

She had not read a word but two

When she grew pale as a lily.

Gimli chuckled as Aragorn gestured for him to continue the song, and so, gladly, he did.

"Go fetch to me my good grey steed

My men shall all go with me

For I shall neither eat nor drink

Till Erebor town shall see me."

Geordie couldn't help but feel her cheeks warm as her chest. Although her mind knew Arwen's love was powerful enough to lead all the elf soldiers there were to Erebor, her mind always fluttered with grace and melted in devotion at the memory, as if it was unknown to her.

Then she has mounted her good grey steed

Her men they all went with er

And she did neither et or drink

Till Erebor town did see her.

Her mind was brought back to the song by Gimli.

And first appeared the fatal block

And then the axe to head her

And Geordie coming down the stair

With bands of iron upon her.

Geordie chuckled as the dwarf bowed to her to compliment her between lines, and Aragorn sang.

Though she was chained in fetters strong

Of iron and steel so heavy

O not a one in all the court

Was so fine a woman as Geordie.

Gmili then continued; singing the first line with an impression of Dáin that made Gandalf choke on pipeweed smoke trying to hold a laugh.

O Arwen down on her bended knee

I'm sure she's pale and weary

"O pardon, pardon noble king,

And give me back my dearie."

Geordie remembered the contrast between the ardent feeling in Arwen's eyes - barely pleading - and the diplomacy of her words as if it was yesterday. To think of her lover kneeling before the King of Erebor and asking such thing made her heart feel guilty, but nevertheless warm.

"Go tell the heading man make haste"

Our king replies full lordly

"O noble king take all that's mine

But give me back my Geordie."

The Gordons came and the Gordons ran

And they were stark and ready

And aye the word among them all

Was Gordons keep you ready.

An aged lord, Balin is his name

Says "Noble king, but hear me

Let her count out five thousands pounds

And give her back her dearie."

Geordie looked at the flames of the fire she tended which seemed to dance to the rythm of the song. Her chest felt heavy at the thought of Arwen sitting in a corner of the mountain, counting endless gold merely for the sake of her lover's safety.

Some gave her marks, some gave her crowns

Some gave her dollars many

She's counted out five thousand pounds

And she's gotten again her dearie.

Yet the words Aragorn sang next made Geordie feel her Arwen's touch on the cheek, almost as if she was there herself, lifting her face up to meet hers with a smile.

She galnced blithe in her Geordie's face

Say "Dear I've bought thee Geordie;

But the blood would have flowed upon the green

Before I lost my lady."

Geordie smiled at the memory, her happiness so real her lips felt kissed right there and then. Yet Gimli and Aragorn had finished the song, and her mind remembered the saudade that made her heart ache in such a lovely way.

Geordie clasped her by the middle small

And she kissed her lips so rosy

"The fairest flower of elven kind

Is my sweet strong Arwen."

Geordie called her lady’s name in a thought, and, sensing it in a heartbeat, Arwen smiled sending back her lover a loveing thought from Rivendell.

The hobbits asked her of the veracity of the song and while Geordie answered their questions with a conscient smile, Aragorn could see her eyes, mind, and heart walked the halls and gardens of Rivendell, - hands not holding a stick to tend a fire but Arwen’s hands.

[formerprincess]

A tale written with fangs and claws || Chapter 58

Chapters: 58/? Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt Characters: Liam Dunbar, Theo Raeken, Mason Hewitt, Corey Bryant, Nolan (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Alpha Liam Dunbar, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, Dunbar Pack, Bisexual Liam Dunbar, Werewolf Theo Raeken, Alpha Theo Raeken, Canon-Typical Violence, Smut, Mates, Liam and Theo are mates, Top Theo Raeken, Bottom Theo Raeken, Top Liam, Bottom Liam Dunbar Series: Part 1 of Morning Dew Pack

Liam has to take care of a very important matter. And there is an invitation...

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Liam immensely enjoyed working for Ellie. She was happy to show him her craft, teach him things, but she was also very easygoing, and as long as she saw him trying, she loved him and was thrilled with his performance. Also, Ellie knew about the supernatural, so she completely understood when he looked at his phone after it chimed with a text, just in case his pack needed him. Not that anything had come up in the few weeks since Liam started working for her, but he liked to have this option. He didn't have to hide anything, and Liam realized how much better he felt with that.

When work was slow, they talked about a lot of things and Ellie taught Liam some things about supernatural creatures. She had laughed loudly at the story about the fairies in their garden and proceeded to elucidate the different variations of fairies and elves. There were plant fairies, water fairies, sun fairies, and almost that many elves classes. Just like there were different weres out there. Liam felt kind of silly he didn't know about any of this and one day voiced his thoughts. Was he simply ignorant or just blind?

"Neither. You're from a town where none of those things exist. Don't blame yourself for that", Carlie said. Carlie was one of Ellie's three best friends, the other two being Libby and Simone. All three were at Ellie's age and the friends had a weekly meeting at the shop where they sat together, talked about their lives, drank tea or coffee, and ate cookies. Carlie herself was a petite woman with short spiky hair and big square glasses. From what they had told Liam upon first meeting, they all were elves but Liam secretly suspected Carlie of being a pixie. She was cheeky, witty, always said what was on her mind, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. Needless to say, Liam liked her. "Yeah, but I also feel like I should know more." "You know enough. About Onis and Berserkers and Kitsunes and hell and other terrible things. You're twenty. Most guys your age know how to party and wear their base caps the wrong way." She bit into a cookie. Liam laughed. "My boyfriend likes to wear his caps the wrong way. He looks hot with it. But he also knows other things." "You have so much time to learn still. Don't worry. Even we old ladies don't know about any supernatural being out there", Simone comforted him and filled her cup with some more tea. She was the opposite of Carlie; tall, thin, and the quietest of the bunch. "I also agree with Carlie, you know about terrible things, traumatic things, things one should not know about. Especially not this early in life. But unfortunately, trauma is also experience. " Liam made a face. He sat down on the armrest of one of the chairs Ellie had placed around. "I just could have lived without some of those experiences. I mean, I could have gone without the experience of being homeless but hey. Maybe that's just me." Ellie put her arm over the backrest of her chair and turned to look at Liam. "When have you been homeless?" They talked about a lot of stuff but Liam's life story, she only knew parts of it. Good parts. He didn't want to deliver sob story after sob story. Liam had a good life, he knew some people had it worse. He cherished that. Now he exhaled loudly through his nose and then he told the four women how the hyenas came into town and caused havoc, how they finally destroyed the house and left the pack picking up the pieces. He ended with the move to the new house.

After he finished, his listeners were shocked. "You experienced all this and you still find it in yourself to be such a happy and polite young man?" Libby asked in awe. She was usually full of life and laughed loudly, her afro curls always bouncing around her round face, but now she was stunned. Liam shrugged. "What's the option? Turning bitter? It worked out in the end. Doesn't mean I will ever forgive them for what they did but no one died, at least." "You are a terrific young man, Liam", Ellie praised. He smiled softly. "Thank you."

The store door opened and Angela, Ellie's oldest daughter, stepped into the shop. She was a lawyer and used her breaks to visit sometimes. She greeted everyone happily and hugged her mother. Liam ran to get her a fresh cup and dragged another seat to their circle so he should sit and interact with the group. She squeezed his arm in a silent thank you as she sat down and accepted the cup. "What were you guys talking about? Is everything okay?" She asked good-heartedly. "Liam just told us about those horrible, horrible hyenas who destroyed his house" Libby filled her in. Angela raised both eyebrows. "I hope none of you were harmed." "Everybodys fine. We managed to get out in time before the house exploded. I'm just grateful I got my brother out of town before it happened." "Oh, you have a brother? I didn't know that." Angela loved kids and had specialized in family rights. She claimed she liked to help kids get justice. "Hm." Liam nodded. He walked to the cash register where he left his phone and while he walked back searched through his pictures. "Landon. He's almost ten." She showed her and the rest of the women the picture and they all cooed how much alike the brothers looked. "You said you brought his out of town? So I take he's usually living with you? Your parents must appreciate such a tight brother's bond." Angela was surprised but happy. Liam hesitated. "Landon's not my mother's son. We're half brothers. Same dad. Well, father. Sperm donor. My biological father is...he's a piece of shit. Alcoholic. Abuser. You get it. I didn't even know Landon existed until we met months ago by a pure coincidence. The circumstances don't matter but in the end, Theo and I took him home with us. Not a chance I would have let him stay with that man. So he lived with us in the house. Until I brought him to the lake to keep him safe. He lives there now." Liam missed Landon terribly but they were all still so young, they could not care for a child properly. Byron and Lana were perfect for that task and Landon also liked them. He blinked. "But enough of sad stories. Let's talk about something different, okay?"

****** He was cleaning up after Ellie's friends had left. After he had basically pleaded for a change of topic, the talk had revolved around lighter topics and ended on a very funny note. Now Ellie was in the back, doing some accounting, and Liam manned the front of the store. Angela was the only one still there. Now she stepped to the cash register where Liam was currently filling some jars with bagged candy. "I'm going to tell you something, not as a friend but as a lawyer, okay? And I need you to listen." She looked serious and Liam tensed. What happened? "Did I do something wrong? Is your mother mad at me?" "No. But listen." She tapped both index fingers on the counter. "You need your biological father to sign his rights over to you as fast as possible. What you said about him, having him in Landon's and your life is dangerous and not good for either of you. So you need to act fast. Have him make you Landon's legal guardian." Liam frowned. "I planned on doing so once I turned twenty-one. I wasn't aware I can do it now. Thought I had to be twenty-one." Angela shook her head strictly. "No. You need to do it now. In most states, anyone who is eighteen years old can become a guardian. Look, who tells you your father agrees to it in a year? He still holds guardianship and can make decisions for your brother. If he does not sign over his rights, he has so much time to cause harm. You said Landon's almost ten. That means another eight years of having the right to decide about medical procedures, school enrollment, the living situation. Even if Landon stays with you, all it takes is somebody checking who is the legal guardian for Landon. Could be school, could be a doctor's office, or if he gets in trouble it could be the police. If he's in the hospital. For eight years, you have to always fear for this to happen. If your father does not sign his rights over." "If he does not do it on his own, I will take him to court." Angela shook her head even more firm this time. "Honestly? They will ask you where Landon lived for the past year. Legally, what you and Theo did was kidnapping. If you manage to get a strict judge, that alone will cause you to lose the case. Landon will get sent back to his father and you're probably not even allowed to see him. I told you, I'm not telling you this as a friend. As your friend, I understand why you did it, as a lawyer I have to inform you about this likely possibility. The only chance you have is to have your father make you his guardian." It was a hard pill to swallow and Liam gulped. He had been naive, he realized now, and considered it all easier than it was. And maybe Landon had to pay the price for his neglect. "Thank you, Angela", he mumbled sadly.

****** Liam sat in his car and watched the house across the street. The sun was beating down and these barren landscapes made the air even drier. The dusty roads stirred up sand whenever a car raced by. Bleak. He cast a look at the passenger seat. All documents he needed were laying there, including a pen. Now all that Liam was left to do, was get out of the car, walk up to the door, and get a signature. Angela's stern talk from days ago had left Liam rallied. Once he was home, he had told Theo about everything and the couple had to admit them taking Landon out of the house had been a stupid move from the legal point of view. They had emotions get the better of them and now this potentially harmful situation had arisen. Theo had supported Liam in whatever was needed to ensure he would become Landon's guardian but the Beta was also not a lawyer and as much at loss as Liam.

Thank god for Angela. She had helped Liam set up the documents Emmet had to sign and those documents Liam grabbed now when he exited the car. Theo was not with him, his boyfriend didn't even know Liam was here. Nobody knew. This, Liam felt, was something he had to don his own. Maybe to find a deserving ending. Maybe to test his control. Or maybe this was stupid but then again, Liam could proudly admit he was doing stupid crap now and then. Stiles, according to his own claim, could show Liam a list.

He let out a shaky breath when he walked through the unkempt front lawn. Some new beer bottles and cans had gathered around the chair. Emmet was not there but Liam heard his heartbeat through the ajar window. You're not going to kill him, Liam. He does not deserve you getting your hands dirty. Liam knocked at the door. Inside the house, he heard some bottles falling and Emmet's slurred voice mumbling.  Then scuffling steps and the door opened. And the young Alpha had to gasp and take a step back. "God, you stink!" The stench of booze, beer, and sweat made him almost gag. Disgusting, his man. "You. What do you want?" Emmet slurred angrily and grabbed the door for support. Liam turned his head away and took a few breaths. He willed his nausea down and turned to face his father. "How long have you been drinking, alkie?" "What do you care? Why are you even here? I don't want you." "Trust me, I don't want you either. But I need something from you and that means I have to come here. I would rather be somewhere else, believe that." "What? Want money for the little gremlin? I'm not giving you a dime." Emmet swayed on his feet. "I don't need your money. Go inside, before you fall flat on your face. I'm not catching you." Liam pointed inside the house. His father made a step towards him. "I should beat the crap out of you for talking to me like that and not stop til you're whimpering. Do you know who I am?" "A sorry excuse for a worm." Liam pushed his biological father by the shoulder and he stumbled back. As drunk as he was, he didn't stand a chance against an Alpha.

Emmet was taken by surprise but managed to catch himself at the table. He spewed a few curse words in Liam's direction before he shuffled around and fell on one of the chairs with the grace of a sack filled with potatoes. Liam closed the door and followed inside. His nose twitched and he wanted to retch at the smell and how dirty everything was but he kept himself from it last minute. This was not for him, this was for Landon. "How's your mother? Still wailing about how horrible I am? The slut should be lucky an honest man wanted her." "My mother is neither a slut nor are you an honest man. Don't mention her or I break your nose." Liam felt his anger building up. This was a test for his control and he might fail it. "Piss off! She's the reason you're such a weak bastard. Wonder what happened with the other one. He's just as weak. Cried whenever I hit him. Begged me to stop. Just like you. Oh, I remember you. Your mother screamed and cried when the ambulance came. I would have left you on the ground. Would have taught you a lesson." "I didn't need a lesson, I needed a father who loved me!" Liam slammed the papers on the table. "Here! Sign this!"

Emmet grabbed it after a few tries and dragged it over the table. He narrowed his eyes at the print. "What should I sign?" "Those are the papers for you to make me Landon's legal guardian. Sign and we're out of your hair forever." Liam balled his hands and felt his fingertips itch. His claws wanted to come out, his wolf furious at the man in front of him. Years of pent-up rage welled up and dared to spill over. He could kill Emmet and probably nobody would shed a tear. Laughter disrupted his thoughts. Emmet had left the papers on the table and laughed. It boomed in Liam's ears. His blood rushed through his veins. This man was mocking him. "If you really think I'm signing this crap, you're mistaken. Know why? Because you bastard want me to and you get nothing from me!" Emmet was still laughing but decided to underline his words by spitting in Liam's direction. It landed on the carpet between them. His claws almost broke through and he was ready to lunge but a voice in his head stopped him. No. Not like this. Not him. Maybe it was his wolf who was even stronger than Liam's human side burdened with IED but it was enough to make Liam pause. If you kill him, you'll never become Landon's guardian. Keep the little one safe.

Liam exhaled loudly through his nose and closed his eyes for a second. If even the animal inside him knew better, he would follow. Had to follow. All for his little brother. Landon didn't deserve a murderer for a hero. He opened his eyes and stared at Emmet. Suddenly Liam was seven again, cowering at the floor while his father screamed at him and walked closer and closer. He had put his arms up back then, in a feeble attempt to shield his body from the hits, and pleaded for the man to stop. Fear. Panic. Pain. But this time Liam didn't feel panicked. He was not afraid of this drunkard calling himself a father. Instead, Liam felt disgust and maybe even pity. This guy had nothing to live for. It gave the young Alpha a strange sense of calm. Out of the two of them, Liam was the better man. The better person. IED or not. The condition didn't rule him as much as it ruled his father, and Liam had quite a lot more on his plate.

He sat at the opposite of the table and took the pen in his hands. "And why wouldn't you? What's in it for you? Just to be petty? Just to put one over on me?" Emmet snickered. "It will bug you forever, that's good enough for me." He reached for a bottle of booze and uncorked it to take a swig. Liam glared at him. Then he put the pen down. His glance landed on his bracelet. The bracelet he shared with Theo. Suddenly, he got an idea. Maybe it was time to see if he could take a book out of Theo's playbook. He raised his head and crossed his arms on top of the table. "Okay, fine, don't sign. We will play your game. I will send Landon back to live here." Emmet eyed him. "You're bluffing." "Not at all. He will come and live with you again. But be aware. I will be around every damn day." "And then what? What will you do? Punch me? You're no match for me", Emmet sneered. "If you lay so much as one finger on him, and we both know you will, I will call the cops on you. They will come and they will arrest you for domestic violence. And yes, Landon may be sent to foster care but I will make sure you will be sent to prison. There is no booze, no beer, no schnapps in prison. But the people there love people who abused kids. I know people and I will make sure every inmate knows what you did to two little boys. That's what will be awaiting you. No freedom to get wasted like you're doing now every day. Think about it." His biological father still eyed him suspiciously. "No way you would ever let him live here again." "To get you locked up, I would do other things. Landon too, by the way. All to make sure you will rot in hell. He's tough, he will take whatever you might to do him. Maybe I will move in as well. One happy family. With me comes my boyfriend, obviously. By the way, how's your hand?" He looked at Emmet's fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. Father and son stared at each other, accessed each other until Emmet snorted. "Your mother raised you better than this. I call bluff. You don't have it in you, weak shit!" A cold, dangerous smile appeared on Liam's face and he leaned closer. "You call my mom a slut and other horrible names, yet you forget I also inherited DNA from you. We both have IED. Wanna find out how much more alike we are? If I'm as cruel as you are?" He gave his father a death glare. "You want to start a war? I'll raise you World War III. Your choice. Either don't sign and feel the whiplash or sign and you will never have to see us again." Liam placed the pen on the papers and waited. His heart was thundering inside his chest. That was not his usual way to carry on negotiations and he had no idea if it worked. Theo made it always seem so easy and pulled it off without a hitch. But Liam knew he was not that good. Emmet grabbed the pen and fiddled with it. He scribbled his signature at the marked fields, an unruly chicken scratch but his signature nonetheless. "Get the hell out of here. If I see you on my front lawn again, I will shoot you." Liam's hand shot towards and he pulled the documents towards himself after the last signature was done. "I have better people to be around than you. Give your liver a break once in a while." He got up just in time as Emmet's hand shot towards his throat. The alcoholic missed by far and his hand thumped on the table. "Fuck off, you piss baby!" The sound of the splintering bottle hitting the wall was the last thing Liam heard from his father when he now left the house without so much of a goodbye.

It only dawned on him what just had transpired when he was in his car and already on the road. Liam stopped at a red light and breathed a sigh of relief. "Holy shit!" He had faced Emmet Dunbar, that one man he hated with a burning passion, the one who had made his childhood horrible and hurt Liam, Ilona, and Landon so much. Against what he had wanted to do to him, Emmet had left the meeting completely without a cut, Liam was incredibly proud of himself. Even though now, that everything settled, his hands shook and his heart raced, adrenaline pumping through his body. That had the potential to go so, so wrong and yet Liam stood tall. He glanced at the papers safely sitting on the passenger seat. Not only had it worked out without Liam losing his temper, but it had also really worked and he was Landon's guardian. The threat of Emmet interfering with their lives and taking Landon away again was erased. Liam wanted to cry.

His phone chimed and Liam almost hit another car. "Jesus Christ!" He accepted the call over the speaker. "Hey, Theo." "Hey. Say, just out of curiosity, where the hell are you? Nobody knows where you left. It's not like you to disappear like that. What's going on." Liam bit his lip. "I was at Emmet's." "Emmet? Emmet Dunbar? Your father? What the fuck! Is he still alive?" "Shh, let me explain. I told you about what Angela said and I went to get his signature. Yes, he's still alive, I didn't touch him. Even though I wanted to." He heard Theo closing a door and birds singing in the background. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have accompanied you." Yeah, good question. Liam didn't know for sure. "I guess...I needed to burn this bridge alone? Prove to myself I can stay calm around him. I'm not like him in any capacity and while I know you and I absolutely adore you for always being there for me, this was something I had to do alone. You understand? Maybe for my own peace of mind, I dunno." Theo was silent for a few moments. "Yeah, I understand", he finally confessed. "Did it work, at least?" A smile broke out on Liam's face. "Yep. Have all the signatures I need. Thanks to you as well." "Thanks to me? What did I do?" "Well, let's say you're a good teacher, even if you don't want to be one. I'll tell you everything once I get home, okay?" Theo laughed. "Okay. Love you." "Love you too."

****** Landon's face appeared on the screen in front of Liam and as soon as he had a picture, the child waved animatedly. "Hello, Liam!" Videocalls were a good way to keep in contact even if they could not see each other in person. Liam happily waved back. "Hey, Landon, how are you?" "I'm good. Zack and I built a fort." Landon launched himself into a story of all the things his best friend and he had done. Lana and Byron appeared in the background of the call but they simply waved and let the boy talk. Liam put his chin in the palm of his hand and listened with a smile. Seeing Landon so carefree and hearing about him being a normal child was all he ever wanted. It came nine years too late and Liam knew his brother must have been affected one way or another by his upcoming but now that he was out of Emmet's claws, Landon was in for an amazing life. After he was done, Landon asked about Liam's life in Seattle. Now it was the older's turn to talk about college, his pack, the fairies (Landon loved this part and he asked thousands of questions). Theo had joined Liam for a while and laughed softly. "He's like you", he whispered into his mate's ear and kissed Liam's cheek before he disappeared out of the frame again after a wave in Landon's direction. Liam chuckled but then he finished his story. "One more thing, Landon. You know we took you away from Emmet, right?" Landon shivered at the mention of his father's name but nodded bravely. "Do I have to go back? Please, don't make me go back!" "No, no, hey, I would never. That's why I'm telling you. He signed all the papers. I am your guardian now." Lana and Byron appeared left and right from Landon. "He did? Oh, how wonderful, Liam." Lana was touched. Landon scrunched his nose. "What does guardian mean?" "It means Liam is responsible for you now and Emmet can never hurt you again. Say you want to go on a class trip, for example, the school has to ask Liam and not your father anymore", Byron patiently explained to him. Landon considered. "So, he can't get me?" "Never again. He's out of your life for good", Liam promised firmly. His brother beamed at the adults. "That's amazing!" "Yeah, it is." Lana stroked through his hair. "But, Sweetie, you have to get ready for bed now. Tomorrow's a school day." "But I want to keep talking to Liam. I'm not finished." Yes, Landon could be stubborn. "We can talk tomorrow, Laddie. After school, yeah? Now you have to get ready for bed. Sleep is important. I'm going to bed now too. Theo does too. See?" He rolled to the side and tilted his screen so Landon could see Theo brushing his teeth with the bathroom door open. Theo waved. It wasn't that he actually wanted to go to bed but he had tried some licorice Mike had brought home, not from Ellie though, and after eating it Theo claimed to have a bad taste in his mouth. Landon huffed. "But we talk tomorrow", he insisted. "Werewolf promise." Liam raised his hand solemnly to swear. "Good Night, Laddie." "Good Night, Liam. Good Night, Theo." Landon stood up. "Good Night, you two," Lana called out and then disappeared with Landon.

Byron sat on the desk chair. "I know he signed but did the meaning with your father go well?" "It did. As well as possible with this man. I was pretty surprised at my control. At a certain point, I was ready to snap but somehow my wolf made me pull back and I got more level-headed." "That's the Alpha in you. Even if our personality or our urges say otherwise, sometimes the Alpha part can balance it out to keep the peace. It is impressive how well you learned to work with your wolf." The praise was nice because Liam tried. Sometimes it felt like all he did was running in circles but then he proved to everyone (and mostly himself) he was a good person and improving. "Speaking of Alpha and peace, Liam I forwarded an email to you just now. Have a look at it, maybe Theo should do so as well."

Theo had dried his mouth and now walked over to lean on Liam's chair while Liam opened the mail Byron had forwarded. It included a word document and when Liam opened it, it turned out to be an invitation to a meeting held in a hotel in Seattle. "Liam, part of being an Alpha are pack politics." Liam whined. "I told you I'm not good at that! What is this? An Alpha congress? I can't go there." "Maybe let the man talk before you cut and run", Theo suggested and smoothly avoided the contact between Liam's elbow and his stomach by moving aside. "I know what you said, Liam, and this is no pressure but I wanted to inform you. The invitation is indeed for an Alpha meeting. No congress, just a few Alphas coming together and talking." "About what?" Liam saw himself on a stage, in front of hundreds of Alphas, a whole auditorium filled with them, and making a fool out of himself. People would laugh. It would be a degrading experience. "Life. This and that. No one is expecting a speech from you, Liam. See I've been to a few of those meetings. There are only packs living close by attending these meetings. They're mostly boring. You stand around, do some small talk, maybe eat a quick snack, and leave. But they can also help you get a better idea of which packs are around yours. In the area. It can be interesting, if only so for scouting. But, of course, that does not mean you have to attend. It's no declaration of war not to go there. Just like you cannot declare war by saying a wrong word if you go." "Those are all Alphas, experienced Alphas probably, and then I show up. Junior McJunington. What will they think?" "Screw what they think. So what if they're older or more experienced? You're you and that's awesome" Theo passionately declared. "Thank you, Dr. Seuss", Liam hissed. He frowned and scratched his cheek. "I have to think about this." "As it is your right. Don't do anything you're not comfortable with." "If I should attend, there will be no problem? I can just show up there?" "The invitation is addressed to the Alpha of the Morning Dew Pack. They seemingly didn't get the memo about the change in our pack but that doesn't matter. The invitation is for you, not for me. Actually, no Beta can attend the meeting. And no Alpha mate either unless they're specifically invited." "I have to go there alone??" Liam shrieked. In his mind, he had Theo by his side. Maybe Brett and Caden since both could be real charmers and have intellectual conversations. Corey would have also a good match despite him being as insecure as Liam in those settings. Byron rubbed his hands together. "Those are the rules. But I know, alone or not, you will be just fine. Should you go or not. This is not something I can do for you. The decision is all yours. Just one more thing, to be fair. you will be the youngest in this group. By a few decades, I suppose. That's why I don't think they will pay you much attention. They're just curious." "Great", Liam said sarcastically. "Given my track records with strange Alphas so far, this will be a marvelous experience."

****** "I don't think you should go. What if that's a trap?" Tim worried about Liam's safety. Liam had informed his pack about the invitation right the next day and after classes, they were sitting in the living room and discussing this. "I think he should go. Just to check the others out. Maybe he can make allies?" Brett opposed. "I also think Liam should go. Byron said he has been to a few of those meetings. I don't think it's a trap", Sadie tried to dissolve Tim's worry and he gave her a grateful look. "The two strange Alphas I met in the last year have both tried to kill me. You understand I'm not keen on walking in a room full of unfamiliar Alphas?" Liam questioned. "I think that should be the reason you go", Ever stated, "to show all of them you're not afraid. If they plan on messing with you, you will look them in the eye. Maybe then they won't underestimate you." "I just don't see the purpose of those meetings. From what Byron said it sounds pretentious." Corey looked peeved. "Oh, it is", Lori confirmed. "But they are not that rare. I don't think you have to be scared, Liam." She offered a genuine smile. Liem returned it cause he knew she was trying to make him feel better. "What do you mean by not rare?" "Well, they're not, if you have Alphas of the old school" Brett took over from his sister. "Modern Alphas just meet up, talk, like Scott with Satomi. They don't even call it an Alpha meeting and send out fancy invites. Those are practices of the old guard, mostly well-esteemed werewolves who love to use those meetings to gossip. Ever seen those movies with scenes in Gentlemen Clubs? Country Clubs? Those are the people to expect at those meetings. Byron's not that far off when he says they won't spare you a look. You're - and don't take this the wrong way - not their type of person, if you know what I mean." "The Alpha from my parents' pack also attends such meetings. They always gush about the delicious and expensive things they eat there. But this woman also has a rich husband and considers herself playing tennis and golf as labor. So, pretty much pompous, entitled snobs", Sadie said. Maya rolled her eyes. "I also know about those meetings but I'm so glad I never met an Alpha going there before. Eh, no offense, Liam." Liam groaned. "Okay, just the danger of becoming the new hot gossip for the elite wolves around. Yeah, I think I'll pass." "I would still go", Caden chimed in. "It's a good opportunity to get to know how many are around. Do you know that? They invited Byron so their radius must be quite large but how many packs live between Seattle and the lake? Wouldn't it be good to know in case we need help? What if the hyenas come back? Having some werewolf allies would not be that bad."

He had a point. They all did. Liam was still torn. For once because he was afraid of making a fool of himself, then for the reason not to offend another Alpha and start a war, and on top of it, he now came to the realization just how different those Alphas seemed to be. He looked at his boyfriend. "What do you say?" Theo had listened to everything and had made up his mind. "You should go. For all those reasons. Byron said there will not come anything bad from it. He would never let you go to any event if he feared something might happen to you. If he says you can go, I believe him. And yeah, it is a good way to get information. Maybe there are not that many packs around.  But you will only find out if you go." Since most of his Betas said he should go, he considered. Maybe it was a good idea indeed. Only one problem: "If it's that high class, what should I wear?"

Fifteen minutes later Liam regretted that question. He stood in his bedroom while Theo, Brett, Mason, and Sadie sat on his bed. Sadie throned between the other guys, one leg crossed over the other, and looked like she was having the time of her life. Liam was the poor victim and had to model several outfits for the self-proclaimed fashion experts of his pack (he knew Theo could dress good but at this point, Liam felt betrayed) who all had other ideas of the perfect outfit. "That dress shirt is perfect for you. Not too out there but also not too normal" Mason praised Liam's current outfit consisting of black pants and a dark grey dress shirt. Liam hated it. It was not even one of his shirts but one of Theo's Mason had just grabbed. His boyfriend had not protested (see, there was the betrayal) but now shook his head. "That's not the outfit to go." "Absolutely right. Liam, grab the one I hung there." Sadie pointed at the clothes and Liam grumbled but grabbed them and stalked into the bathroom. When he emerged again, he was wearing jeans, a blue slipover with a white button-down shirt underneath. Liam felt like he was a kindergartener dressed by mommy. "Now you look like back in Devenford. Then again, maybe this private school flair is exactly what you need", Brett snickered. Liam glared at him and Theo scoffed before he handed Liam the third outfit. Liam glared at him too for good measure and disappeared into the bathroom again.

The outfit Theo had picked for him, Liam didn't even know where he got it. He had never seen Theo wearing this particular combo. Cloth trousers, a polo shirt and a sports jacket over it. "How the hell do you get this? And why do you get this?" He asked once he emerged from the bathroom.   Interesting, Theo became a bit sheepishly. "I got it for some occasions? Maybe a job interview?" "This is so not you." Liam eyed himself in the mirror. "This is so not me either. What were you thinking, guys? None of your outfits were good." "You wanted us to help you", Mason defended himself. "I wanted to get suggestions, not become your dress-up doll", Liam replied sharply. Sadie sighed. "You're being difficult. Don't you want to make a good first impression?" "A good impression as himself, shouldn't that be the goal?" Caden had walked into the room and crossed the arms in front of his chest. He looked at Liam. "You look strange. Actually, you look like me whenever my aunt visited the family. Horrible." "How do you look when your aunt visits?" Brett had to know. Caden pulled out his cellphone and searched a bit before he handed the phone over. Brett snickered. "Okay, thanks for the laugh. So dapper, oh my. One would not think that since you're almost only ever wearing more casual clothing." Sadie giggled. "Does Ever know you can look like that?" "As a matter of fact, yeah. She doesn't like it. I can relate. But my aunt is quite old-fashioned and conservative. She came to town, we dressed like that, covered up our tattoos, the whole shebang. We just never liked it. Liam doesn't like dressing up either." "Tell me about it. That's a topic we have had since we're friends." Mason rolled his eyes. Liam wanted to glare at him but if he was honest, his best friend was right.   So he raised his shoulders. "I have dress shirts. I just happen to like t-shirts and jeans more." "Hence why I think you should wear that", Caden stated. "You are not like the type of Alpha who wears expensive clothing and the latest brands. You're Liam. We like Liam. Why do you want to be somebody you're not? Just to impress people you probably will never see again after that one time?" "That's true." Even Theo had to admit that. "I know when you're comfortable and you never are when you dressed up to a certain extend." "I still think if the occasion calls for it, you should make an effort", Sadie insisted. "It's not about what you want; it's about what our Alpha wants. Liam goes to the meeting and Liam has to represent himself and our pack. He should do it as his truest self possible", Brett retaliated. She pouted.

But then she got up from the bed and walked towards Liam's open closet. She dug around there for a while before she pulled out a pale blue t-shirt. It was a new one, Liam had only worn it twice and he loved how soft the fabric was, it felt good and comfy on his skin. Sadie handed it to him. "The color makes your eyes pop. That and that one light blue jeans you have. If you walk into a room full of strange werewolves, bright colors make you look friendlier." "That's Sadie. If you can't dress them up the way you want, at least get into chromatics", Brett praised.

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Quite a Liam-centric chapter but then again he's the Alpha and Landon's brother. And he had to make decisions. Now the question is, what will happen at the meeting? What do you guys think? All I can say is, I'm excited about the new chapter.

[eiirisworkshop]

DragonCon Gothic

-You are in the food court going to the Hilton. You take the sky bridge. You are in the Marriott. You take the other sky bridge. You are in the Hyatt. You take the sky bridge. You are in the food court. 

-You are in a Very Serious Panel discussing First Amendment Law. You hear Gangnam Style through the wall. 

-You hear a woman scream. She runs. She hugs Darth Vader. She is fine. 

-You hear a woman scream. The escalator is eating her ballgown. It tears. The Addams Family comes to her rescue. Supergirl mends the gown. She is fine. 

-You hear a man scream. His dragonhide stiletto has gone through the grate in the broken Atlanta pavement. He falls. Six anime characters and a Harley Quinn come to his rescue. He...will be fine tomorrow. 

-A mother is dressed as Misty from Pokémon. Her baby is a Togapi strapped to her front. 

-A mother is dressed as Misty from Pokémon. Her children are the Pikachu evolutionary line. 

-A mother is dressed as Misty from Pokémon. Her baby is a Magikarp. Years later you see a young Garydose. You remember the baby. You wonder. 

-There is an hour wait at the Hardrock. You go to the food court instead. It takes an hour to find a table. 

-You are in the overflow seating for the food court. It used to be a Mexican restaurant. You look at the broken floor, the missing ceiling tiles, the shelf hanging crooked on the wall by one last screw. It has not changed since last year, or the year before, or the year before that.... You wonder why nothing new has used the space. You wonder where you would sit if anything ever did. 

-There is...a character. You’ve seen it twenty times today. You have no idea what it’s from. You are scared to ask. 

-There is a character. You have never seen it before. You tell the cosplayer they look great and ask what they are. They excitedly tell you the life story of this fictional person. They finish then hurry to catch back up with their friends. They never told you what it’s from. 

-There is a wolf in the Marriott. An actual wolf. It is a service dog. You want to pet it. You spend the next half hour helping prevent drunk pikachus and storm troopers from petting the wolf. 

-You are on MARTA with Spider-Man. 

-You are on MARTA in cosplay. The train is full of sports fans. You feel the way they look at you, like you are a freak, like their jersey and face paint is any different from your costume. You all exit at peachtree station. The platform is full of Sailor Scouts and Doctors Who. The sports fans realize they are outnumbered. Some of them are afraid. Some of them will be dressed as the joker next year. 

-Someone is crying in the bathroom. They just want to get their contacts out. 

-Someone is crying in the bathroom. They were too far back in line, the room filled, they didn’t get to see David Tennant. 

-Someone cries for help in the bathroom. It’s a variation of Spider-Man you have never seen before. She can’t unzip her suit. You help her. She is drunk and swears she will see you again next year and buy you a drink. You see her next year. She gives you a glow stick. 

-There is a woman in a Marriott Carpet dress. There is a Sailor Marriott with the Carpet pattern on their fuku. The Marriott Flying Carpets quidditch team has the pattern on their robes. There is a car painted like the Carpet. There is a vendor selling Cult of the Carpet merch. The Carpet is copyrighted. You hear there is a lawsuit. The Marriott hasn’t had that carpet in years. You’ve been walking through the Marriott all day. You have no idea what the carpet looks like now. 

-There is a character. You’ve seen it twelve times today. You have no idea what it’s from. You see it for a thirteenth time alongside another character from the same thing. You know both characters. You know the entire life story of the character you’ve seen thirteen times. 

-You want to go to a panel. You find five simultaneous panels. You narrow it down to two. You go to neither of them. 

-You want to go to a panel. You find five simultaneous panels. You narrow it down to two. You go to a sixth because it is in the hotel you’re already in. 

-You want to go to the burlesque. You meant to go to the burlesque last year. They move the burlesque. Everyone gets there before you. You do not go to the burlesque this year. 

-You are in the Dealer’s Room. You want to buy a sword. A vender hands you a D-20 die made of gemstone. You roll it. You nat 20. You spend $100 on stone dice. You do not buy a sword. 

-There are hundreds of men in kilts. This is normal. A woman chases them with a leaf blower. This is normal. You would worry if she weren’t there. 

-There is an ambulance outside the Sheraton. You hope everyone is okay. You think there was an ambulance here last year. You can’t remember. 

-You are in the Walk of Fame. You meet your hero. They are the sweetest person you have ever met. 

-You are in the Walk of Fame. You meet your hero. They’re a creep. 

-You are in the Walk of Fame. There is almost no line for George Takei. You do not understand why. You talk to him. He is the sweetest person you have ever met. 

-There are hateful protesters outside the food court. No one can hear them. Darth Vader is playing bagpipes. 

-You walk past a woman wearing a censor bar and pants. You walk past her again After Dark. She is no longer wearing a censor bar. Or pants. 

-You are at the Yule Ball. It is a fun, family party. The Golden Trio run by in their Hogwarts robes. They are too young to go to Hogwarts. 

-You are at the Yule Ball. It has just hit ten o’clock. The children are escorted out. The lights go down. A belly dancing elf pulls out a flask. You don’t know from where. 

-You are at the Yule Ball. Batman is on a date with Sailor Moon. He asks if he can kiss her. She says no. He leaves. She dances with the elf, then with Madam Hooch. 

-You are at a panel. Someone has the mic. There is feedback. The sound guy tries to fix it. There is still feedback. The sound guy tries again. There is still feedback. There is always feedback. No one blames the sound guy. 

-You need an elevator to go down. An elevator arrives. It is going up. You get on. You go up fourteen floors then go down. You clutch the handrail in the zero gravity. 

-A drag queen who is not a drag queen compliments your cosplay. You almost buy a corset from him. 

-Your shoes are not comfortable but they go with your cosplay. You’ve been walking for hours. Your feet hurt. 

-You are wearing your most comfortable shoes. You’ve been walking for hours. Your feet hurt. 

-You’ve wanted to do this cosplay for years. You’ve been working on it for months. You finished it last night. 

-You poured your soul into this cosplay. No one has recognized it all day. Someone thought you were Robin Williams. You return to your hotel, blocks away from the heart of the con. The night porter compliments your cosplay by name. You are Validated. 

-There is someone checking into the Marriott in a suit. A battalion of Storm Troopers pass. The person in a suit looks confused, maybe scared. The person behind the desk is unfazed. 

-You are in the Marriott where the Blood Drive used to be. The Blood Drive hasn’t been here in years. You still think of this place as where the Blood Drive used to be. You still think vampire costumes should be mandatory for the Blood Drive crew. 

-A Blood Drive volunteer tells your group you should donate. Most of you are gay. Two of you have new tattoos. One of you just returned from abroad. The rest have medical conditions. None of you have eaten in hours. None of you can give blood. 

-You are in the Marriott where the Blood Drive used to be. A chorus of elves are singing, each of them carrying a lantern. They are beautiful. You are almost moved to tears. They are a chorus of angels, except they are elves, and the only angels you’ve seen all weekend are Castiel and Aziraphale, neither of whom seem to sing. The elves leave. BB-8 appears, followed by R2. The droids interact with the crowd. A small girl dressed as Leia pats BB-8 on the head. A second BB-8 approaches her, then a third, then a fourth tiny BB-8. The girl is delighted. It is adorable. You are moved to tears. 

-You had the con crud last year. You do not want it again. You load yourself up with vitamin C and zinc. By Sunday your throat is raw. You have the con crud. You will have it next year too. 

-You are in the CVS on Peachtree. The rest of the con is there too. You are buying tissues and cough drops. So are they. You all have the con crud. 

-You see a badge on the floor. You are overcome with dread. You check your own badge. It’s still there. You exhale in relief. Your heart breaks for a stranger you have never seen. 

-You buy a piece of jewelry and put it on. You go to a panel. Your jewelry is gone. You don’t know what happened. There is nothing to be done. You may go back to the vender tomorrow if you still have money. You may not. 

-You are at a panel. The panelist makes a sex joke, then realizes there are children in the room. They apologize profusely to the parents while the children giggle. Five minutes later, it happens again. 

-You see a character. You ask your friend where it’s from. “Anime,” they say. That explains nothing. That explains everything.

-A ducky squeaks in the distance. 

-It is Monday. It hits five o’clock. Everyone is chased out of the venders hall. In the hotels, the Hunger Games breaks out over luggage carts. The crowds and madness disperse. The city is as quiet as it ever is. The con is over. You must return to the real world. You’re not sure you know how, but you’ll be okay. You begin to plan for next year.

[entity9silvergen]

Mosaic (Disenchantment Fanfiction)

Summary: We are just mosaics of everyone we love and that mosaic shows everyone we love how beautiful they are. Bean doesn’t think she can love like everyone else but maybe that’s okay.

Fandom: Disenchantment 

Word Count: 2K

Characters: Bean

Relationships: Bean/ Mora, Mentioned Bean & Everyone, Mentioned Odval/ Sorcerio, Mentioned Zog/ Oona, Mentioned Zog/ Dagmar

Warnings: Internalized arophobia, first person pov, some self-deprecation, sex mention, drug mention, mention of interspecies relationships in fantasy setting 

Other Tags: F/F, Mentioned F/F QPR, Reflection/ Self-Reflection/ Internal Thoughts, No Dialogue, Queerplatonic, Aromantic Character, Aromantic Homosexual Character, Arospec Character, Queer Themes, Unreliable Narrarator, S3E6, Oneshot, AroWriMo 2021

Author’s Note: My friend sent me the line “I am a mosaic of everyone I’ve ever loved” about twenty minutes after I watched “Final Splash.” I’m working on the prompt for Week 2 of AroWriMo rn but I had to drop everything and write a short fic about this. Again, I didn’t really use the prompt but it kind of fits with week 1’s prompt romo/loveless & future. 

I’m headcanonnoning Bean as aro or demiro/ greyro. I think in the show it was implied she never experienced romantic attraction prior to meeting Mora because she likes women and I don’t want to erase that in any way but Bean still gives off a big aromantic bisexual homo(queer)platonic vibe.

_____________________

My name is Princess Tiabeanie of Dreamland and I’ve never loved anyone.

I mean, I love my dad and my friends and all that but I’ve never loved loved anyone. Is that weird to say? That makes it sound like I don’t really love my dad and Elfo and Luci and everyone. I probably shouldn’t say that then because I actually love them a lot. They’re my everything. 

One time, I was walking down Elf-Ally and this elf was sitting on the side of the road with some chalk. I feel like elves would really like chalk but I’ve never seen any of them use it, not even Arto, except this guy. I’d never seen anything like it before so I asked what he was doing and he said he was making this mosaic to show his love for this other elf he liked. I didn’t really understand it so he explained it to me like this: we are just mosaics of everyone we love and that mosaic shows everyone we love how beautiful they are.

I still didn’t get it so I just laughed at him and he got kind of upset and threw a piece of chalk at me. It didn’t really hurt but Luci was with me and the elf started throwing stuff at him and you know how Luci gets when he hits his nose so we left. I couldn’t really forget what that elf said though. 

You see, a mosaic is a mix of a bunch of little pieces taken from different things that all come together to make one thing. There’s this mosaic at the church and it’s pretty freaking ugly but the mosaic this elf was making was just so beautiful. He used so many colors and he drew all these little pictures and hid these words I didn’t understand in them. I’d expect it to be all crude and gross like those scribbly pictures Derek would draw when he was younger that Oona pretended to love but it all came together so well. It didn��t even look like separate pieces. It was just one.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The influences of countless parts of my life, weaving together into an insanely complex mesh- That felt like me. I always felt like something was broken in me but maybe I’m just a mosaic. 

I think my dad made me who I am the most. Even if he wasn’t really present most of my life. Sure, we don’t see eye to eye sometimes but I think we’re better because of that. He made me strong. His actions guided me into becoming the woman I am today. He taught me how to keep fighting. Literally and figuratively. He taught me to keep my head up and he taught me how to stab people. It’s pretty cool. I remember this one time as a kid he took me out to the courtyard, stole this guy’s knife, and taught me how to use it. I think I still have the knife actually. I don’t stab people with it anymore though.

(I hope he’s okay. He hasn’t been the same in awhile.)

My mom… Well, I don’t really love her anymore but I did for a long time. She was… How do I put it? A constant in my life. Even though she wasn’t there. What I felt towards her, it kept me together for a long time. When I had nothing to fall back on, I always had her memory. Until she tried to take over Dreamland, obviously. Now I just say she gave me my love for alcohol and that’s pretty sweet too. 

(I still miss her. I bet she’s dead.)

You know those pictures where the guy has an angel and demon on his shoulders telling him what to do? That’s Elfo and Luci, and it’s literal for Luci. And maybe for Elfo? He did go to heaven that one time. It can be kind of annoying to hear them bickering all the time, especially since they almost never want the same thing, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Elfo keeps me safe and Luci pushes me to be more than I am. They make life fun. Fuller. Less lonely.

(I’m scared they might leave someday. I wouldn’t blame them.)

I don’t really like Derek but I still love him. Maybe a little less since he tried to burn me at the stake. Maybe a little more since he chickened out at the last second. And a little less because he still went through with it. And maybe a little more since it was an accident. We have a complicated relationship but he’s still my little brother, as weird as he is. He reminds me of what I have to fight for, if that makes sense. I don’t really see him as the future of Dreamland or anything but he’s still a little kid and I can’t really help but have a soft spot for him. Don’t tell him I said that.

(I wonder if he’ll keep me around when he’s king. I’d be lying if I said I was surprised.)

The same goes for Oona. I never liked her but I think I love her. Especially after she tried to save me from my mom. And since she became an epic pirate. She’s awesome. She’s the mom I always wished I had except she was actually there the whole time and I didn’t realize it. I’m happy with how things turned out though. I don’t regret it. Plus she’s got great taste in drugs. I still steal them sometimes.

(I don’t know if she loves me. Maybe she did once but not anymore.)

I kind of hate Odval and Sorcerio in a weird way where I like them at the same time. They’re not really family but always been there. Like they’re kind of like second dads to me. Second dads whose the sex lives I know way too much about. My gay polyamorous uncles? But they kind of care under all that court properness and tradition nonsense so they’ve kind of wormed their way into my heart. They’ve always made my life difficult but I don’t think I would be myself if I wasn’t challenged so much.

(I think they’d rather have me gone. They don’t hide it every well but I can pretend.)

I’m going to be honest, I was really bummed when Pendergast died. We were kind of the same age and he hung around the castle for most of my life. And my dad trusted him so we actually did stuff together sometimes. A lot of adventures that never really went anywhere. He could be kind of a stick in the mud but he never really minded that I’m a girl and let me tag along on crusades and helped me get better with weapons and stuff. And Pendergast was weirdly loyal to Dreamland, even after Dad forked his eye out. Or was it spooned? I don’t remember. Some kind of eating utensil. I wasn’t there when it happened. But it was nice knowing I could trust him. He could be kind of fun though when he was off-duty. Total lightweight though. He threw up on one of those little guys who carries dad’s cape once. 

(I wish I’d known him better. I really miss him but I can’t tell anyone since Dad gets set off by anything that even reminds him of the guy.)

Who else is there? That’s right, Mertz and Turbish. Turbish and Mertz. Two peas in a pod. Plus Mrs. Mertz. Don’t get me wrong, they are idiots. Totally incompentant. It’s a wonder they’re still alive. But they’re sweet. And they try. They’re not good at anything but they try. Sometimes I don’t want to try but they tell me I always can.

(I’m waiting for the day they realize they could have a better life. It’ll be weird not having them around the palace.)

I even kind of like Merkimer. As a pig, not a human. God, he was an awful human but he’s a funny little pig. He lets Luci ride on his back sometimes. Both of them like it way more than either of them will ever admit. It’s cute. I think they’re friends. If they’re not, Elfo and I will start plotting until they are. Or maybe not. A Luci-Merkimer friendship might be too much for Dreamland to handle. They’re kind of a lot, even on their own. Merkimer always kind of had a big head and it only got bigger when he accepted his new life. It’s actually kind of inspiring how happy he is now. 

(I don’t want him to change but he already has. It makes me sad sometimes.)

And Bunty. Oh, Bunty. And Stan! The world doesn’t really deserve Bunty. Stan does though. I think they’re the ones who taught me what real love is. Bunty always showed me love as a kid, she was like the second mom I never had but actually did have because Oona was there. But she gave me something neither Oona or Dagmar could. I didn’t really understand it until I saw her and Stan and their family together. I still don’t. They’re really sweet.

(I’d give them everything. I know they just see me as some spoiled princess though.)

I want what those two have. Or what Odval and Sorcerio have. What my dad had with Dagmar or Oona. What Elfo’s had, and Luci’s had, and Derek’s had, and the knights have had. It feels like everyone’s had that kind of deep love at some point except me. I didn’t even realize until I was talking to Mora. 

I’ve had the chance to have it. Merkimer, that brother of his I accidentally killed, that one time Pendergast made a pass at me, that Steamland guy… I don’t think any of it really would’ve worked out though. I’ve had a lot of things with guys and there’s been kissing and touching and I’ve always enjoyed it but I think I always knew it would never go anywhere. That it will never go anywhere. And I can’t even blame my dad because it’s all me. It’s always been me. And I’m okay with that? Maybe? I don’t think so but I’m not really good at understanding my feelings. It’s just another thing on the pile of things I won’t work through.

I think I understood what I had with Mora though. It wasn’t… romantic but it felt like it almost was. We just… clicked. It felt right. She was tough and funny and she didn’t hold anything back. She followed her dreams and didn’t let the world get her down. That one night we had together, I felt like we were alone in the world.

Mora gave me the ocean and the stars.

She was beautiful. Maybe that’s what was missing? None of the guys I ever screwed around with were beautiful. Not like Mora was. Not like a woman can be. I really felt like this was it but there was still that disconnect. Like something was there but not quite. Like something was missing. I don’t know what it was.

But then she just left. I had that dream and I just felt so happy. I’d never felt happiness like that. And I never felt pain like the pain I felt when I woke up and the necklace was gone. I definitely would’ve cried if Elfo wasn’t there. I might’ve actually cried a little bit. It’s kind of hard to hear anything when Elfo’s sobbing. Some of those tears might have been mine.

Did I love her? I don’t think so. Not like Elfo loved that boat. It wasn’t romantic. But it was real. It gives me hope. I don’t think I’m capable of the same kind of love everyone else seems capable of and that’s not even a slight at me. It’s just reality. But what I had with Mora, however brief and imagined it was, tells me that’s okay. I don’t need the kind of love everyone else has. Not when I have so many others in my life.

Still, I hope I see her again, even for a second, just to feel that kind of happiness again.

I think that’s what that elf meant when he said we are just mosaics of everyone we love and that mosaic shows everyone we love how beautiful they are. Mora was beautiful and she didn’t see it but maybe she would if she saw how I looked at her. 

Stars and the ocean, I’ll never forget them. They’ll be a part of my mosaic forever.

Other AroWriMo Fics By Me, Posted on Ao3, Posted on FFN

[atariince]

I read your opinion on Luthien and I was intrigued about what you considered the selfish side of her. Would you mind elaborate ? I say this because the tale of Beren and Luthien Is the most unispiring tale -at least for me- sacrifying lives for the sake of two lovers

Hello, and thanks for your message and question!

First things first: You, I, we don’t have to feel ecstatic about every characters and every storylines, and you don’t have to justify your preferences. That character doesn’t appeal to you? All right, then! There are plenty of other characters to focus on! (just, you know, don’t shit on people who actually like the characters you’re not fond of). ;) 

I do have a very complicated and ambivalent relationship to the story of Beren and Lúthien; I really can’t say I dislike it, not at all, but it tends to upset me. You ask about my mention of the “selfishness” of Lúthien… [To be honest, I don’t really remember what I said in the post you mention (which is probably a rather old one???) so I can only hope that I’ll be coherent and not too repetitive (generally speaking, my opinion hasn’t changed over the years, but it mighthave evolved)] -  I can understand that my opinion might seem confusing, but in fact, you answered the question yourself: The sacrifice of many for the sake of one couple… (that’s a schematic presentation, yes). But it’s a bit more complicated than that. I actually like the character of Lúthien per se. I like her as a strong, a bit creepy, dog-eared lady who remains blind to a lot of things. I like her being prideful and I like her being FLAWED. You know why? Because I can relate. I’m not perfect, far from it. Nobody is. And if I cannot see my own flaws in a character, I’ll have a hard time being interested in them.

So my problem with the Lay of Leithian has nothing to do with the characters themselves - whether you like them or not, they remain interesting – it has to do with the treatment of the characters, the (frustrating) perspective adopted by the narrator(s), the way the couple seems to be forgiven deeds which would have been considered criminal/terrible/unforgivable if they had been committed by other characters (follow my gaze).

And yes, I can’t deny that I have my own biased reading because of my preference for the Fëanorians, but I try to be as objective as possible (though I can’t be completely objective. I mean, who could?)

So. 

Lúthien is a strong female character, steadfast and fearless, and that’s something I definitely like about her. Now, I’m not fond of the “perfect lady” aura given to the character, you know? This idea that she’s flawless and whatever she does is a good thing. Some sort of a saint (if there were saints in Arda). At no point the narrative voice questions her decisions, she’s always in the light. She is presented as perfect and every other characters seem to agree, no matter what she decides to do. I find all this very irritating, although I guess that’s also what the genre requires (I’ll come back to that point at the end of the post). 

Yet, let’s keep in mind that Lúthien is not like the other Eldar; her mother is an Ainu, and that element is extremely important: she is half divine. It’s crucial because it means that

How could the other Eldar and humans not be, at least, fascinated by her? 

It must be complicated for the Eldar to actually criticise her… I mean, she’s the offspring of demiurgic power!

She must have a specific fate (if Eru allowed her mom to become incarnate and to have a kid with an Elda, He must have some plans)(spoilers : He does)

She must have a different approach of reality, a different way to feel the world, to live in the world, to be concerned with the world and its inhabitants. 

She is powerful and has powers that no other Eldar could ever dream of, which makes her somehow dangerous.

This being said, let’s return the matter at stake:  your question about this self-interest of her, and the sacrifices it implies; not the sacrifice of Beren or Lúthien for one another, but the almost death of thousands of Eldar for them to be together (and I won’t talk of here of Finrod’s choices and his gruesome death because that’s a matter which I’ve already talked about at length – here for instance)

Besides, I mostly agree with Litamande’s interpretation of the Nargothrond episode, so I’ll waste no time repeating it and I advise you to read if that’s not already done. I’ll just point out a few selfish elements to actually elaborate on the “selfish side of Lúthien” (although it doesn’t mean I blame her for being selfish):

1. Lúthien would let a kinslaying happen to be with her lover 

By disobeying her father and by running to Nargothrond, she took the risk of bringing her father’s wrath to Nargothrond.

I know, I know: the texts say that Thingol gets mad because of the Fëanorians' plan to get her married to Celegorm (mind you, I don’t say the Fëanorians don’t have anything to be blamed for, they do, but that’s not the point of this post) but something tells me that, no matter the nature of the Fëanorians' message, Thingol would have been furious - marriage proposal or not, Thingol could have very well played the diplomatic card, discussed the whole thing (or at least  pretended to), got his daughter back and then told the Fëanorians to fuck off. Instead, he prepared his army for an eventual kinslaying. I mean, thanks to the Fëanorians' message, he knows where daughter is, he knows she is relatively “safe” in Nargothrond – and the Fëanorians are just a small impediment which Thingol could get rid of without killing the entire population of Nargothrond…. so I tend to believe that, at this point, Thingol was so offended and upset and panicked in general terms that he would have been mad, not matter who would have said “I found your daughter!”

And I do believe that Lúthien knew it, or at least, considered that it could be a possibility. She’s not stupid. She’s definitely not that naïve.

Likewise, after the Tol Sirion episode, she would rather stay with Beren instead of going back to Doriath, even if that decision leads to a war of elves against elves. It is clearly given in the Lay that Thingol was ready to go to war to get her back, and although I can understand why she wants to stay with her boyfriend, the lives of hundreds of elves are at stake! And coming from the heir of a sovereign, it’s rather… unpolitical, to say the least. And yes, selfish. Now, I’m not saying she shouldn’t be selfish! On the contrary. Please girl, do what you will! 

What upsets me is that she’s still presented as a flawless saint by the narrator, by the other characters, by the Valar and nobody ever tells her that her decisions almost created a war. How frustrating is that? 

2. L&B let a kinslaying happen to keep the Nauglamir in the family

She and Beren have come back from Mandos, they’re in Tol Galen, they have a lovely kid and they talk to no mortal. And they have a Silmaril because Thingol’s dead and Doriath is in a pretty bad state. We know the Fëanorians dare not attack Lúthien, but she knew the risk of keeping a Silmaril, didn’t she? She knew they would do their best to take it back after her death. And although I understand why the Silmaril is symbolically important to her (they died for it , her dad died for it, etc.) she knows what it means to keep a Silmaril; In some versions (“The Nauglafring”, “the Quenta”… see also “The Tale of Years” in HoME XI), Melian herself warns (wrathfully) her and Beren against it… even if Lúthien stops wearing it in some texts, they never ever think about giving it back to the Fëanorians… You’ll tell me that they are the Dispossessed, they can’t have it back anyway, or there would be no story at all. 

I think what upsets me the most here, is not that she decided to keep it no matter what, but the treatment of it. Again. When anyone else in the texts desires a Silmaril or tries to keep a Silmaril, there’s always a warning somewhere, something implying, “this character is becoming greedy and is making a huge mistake blahblah”. But not here, at no point she’s is given as potentially making a mistake, she’s neither depicted as prideful, nor greedy nor anything  – same thing with Beren when he tries to pick up the second Silmaril from the crown of Melkor ; yes he raises hell with his mistake and paid for it, but no one blames him. In the “Quenta” it is even said that he failed to take all the three jewels because of the “knife of the treacherous dwarves”, as if he had nothing to blame himself for… You see why I’m upset. The narrative perspective is completely unfair.

3. The Mandos episode

It is not about Lúthien’s selfishness but it is a fair example of those prejudices. Lúthien is said to be the only one who managed to bring pity into Námo‘s heart. Yet she’s not the only mourning… the Bragollach had happened roughly a decade before the L&B’s story. There are thousands of people in Middle Earth and in Mandos (and in Valinor) weeping and mourning a sibling, a lover, aparent, a child – Lúthien lost her bf whom she met a couple of years before but “her sorrow [is] deeper than their sorrows”??? She is actually given as the one feeling the greatest grief ever? I just… No.

Well, actually, it is no surprise that Námo is moved by her song : she is divine! Her mom sang during the creation of the world…!

Alright yeah, I’m being cynical, I admit it. But what I’m trying to do is not to tell you what’s good or bad or what you should think of the whole thing. I’m barely trying to offer you another perspective, to point at what is not totally clear, what doesn’t make sense to me, what upsets me, so you can maybe see it from another point of view. It’s always an interesting thing to do, even if in the end you don’t change your mind.

And believe it or not, the Lay of Leithian is one of my favourite texts! And maybe it is precisely because of all those elements that confuse me and/or irritate me! At least it gives me something to think about, some new gaps to fill with my imagination!

Now, and this is VERY important, let’s keep in mind that the first Beren and Lúthien writings go back to Tolkien’s youth, and that what Tolkien wanted to do was to write a “heroic-romance from the realm of Faërie" inspired by medieval literature and ancestral folklore. He obviously knew what he was doing, he knew the codes of that kind of literature, and all those elements which I pointed out were carefully wrought by the author; he was aware of the characteristics of the genre and toyed with them, proof is the parodical commentary of the Lay of Leithian by CS Lewis. And come on, technically speaking, the Lay is a masterpiece, if not a feat!  Besides, we also know how dear this particular love story was to Tolkien, and without making it a metaphor of his own life, we can’t ignore this aspect. Therefore, my criticisms are neither literary, scholarly ones, nor personal ones against the author. They’re barely the reflections of a very subjective feeling (and I strongly emphasize that word) of my own, regarding those events and the way they are rendered within the whole history of Middle Earth, as in intradiegetic vision of them.

And to conclude, if Lúthien had not fought for her love story to be a thing, therewould have been no Dior, no Elwing, no Earendil… it is a part of the whole narrative line, of the whole scheme that lead to the salvation of the people of Middle Earth in the 1st Age. SO yes, her selfishness is somehow rightful, it has a purpose, it is for the GREATER GOOD. And again, what bothers me is not Lúthien herself, it is the fact that her decisions are never questioned, by no one at any point. And I believe that if some readers don’t find this tale inspiring, as you put it, it is precisely because of the treatment of L&B ; they’re perfect, unworldly perfect, how could we easily relate to them?

[thecorteztwins]

Character Flaws: How To Do Them (And How Not To)

Hi there, I’m going to talk about character flaws today! And I’m going to start with a very unpopular statement----I think flawless characters, or characters with minimal flaws, are just fine. It just depends on what kind of character you want to portray. Some character roles are SUPPOSED to be paragons of virtue or sweet innocent angels, just as some characters are SUPPOSED to be dastardly evil-doers or complex nuanced grimdark antiheroes. What matters is whether it’s what you INTEND, and how to pull it off. Also, I’m not an expert. These are opinions. Feel free to agree or disagree, take what you like and leave the rest, etc. I am not an authority in ANY way, and your thoughts are just as valid as mine. That said, let’s start. Strap in, this got long, I’m sorry.

There are three general types of flaws that you can give to a character: INTERVIEW FLAWS aka CINNAMON ROLL FLAWS aka NON-FLAWS I call them this because they’re the sort of “flaws” that you would say you have at a job interview when asked what your flaws are. They’re “flaws” that make someone actually sound better---more moral, or more endearing, or more sympathetic, etc. Things like “too loyal” or “kind to a fault” or “too protective of his friends”. They’re the sort of flaws that “cinnamon roll” characters typically have. These actually can become very damning mega-flaws if taken to the extreme, but more on that later; this paragraph is for when they’re still solidly in “interview flaw” territory. A big aspect of these “flaws” is that they only hurt the character, if anyone. They will seldom, if ever, negatively affect another person. If they do hurt someone else, it will often be in a way that is totally justified to the reader (the character who is “too protective” beating up someone who was being a jerk to his friends) or really not the character’s fault at all (a naive character being manipulated by a bad guy into revealing something important) Whatever trouble they get in will usually be done in a way that is meant to make the reader either feel bad for them, or see them in a positive light for it. If this is the sort of character you want to go for, that is a-okay! Cinnamon rolls have their place in a story, and they can be just as beloved by fans as more grimdark characters. The only problem comes is when someone tries to sell their character as “flawed” when actually they’re just one of these. Or, alternatively, tries to sell the character as one of these when actually they’re one of the categories below. But if it’s exactly what you intended? Great! NORMAL FLAWS Exactly what it says---flaws that a normal person would have. Things like jealousy, snobbery, misanthropy, negativity, bad tempers, irresponsibility, laziness, not taking things seriously when they should, the list goes on and on. This is probably the widest category, since what flaw you pick and how it manifests can span the range from being almost a non-flaw but not quite, to nearly a mega-flaw. It also depends on the character who has it, what they’re like otherwise, and why they have it. For instance, someone who is unjustly hostile to someone trying to help them because they’re suspicious due to being tricked, exploited, or abused in the past by people pretending to be well-meaning, is a lot more sympathetic than someone who just doesn’t think they need help because they see themselves as perfect and don’t like correction. Both still fall under the “normal” category most of the time, but are coming from very different places, and will be perceived differently by most readers. So, which to use? It all depends what you’re going for with your character! MEGA FLAWS The big ones. The ones that will really make others dislike your character. Things like real-life bigotry (as in, being homophobic, not hating elves), gleeful bullying and abusiveness, toxic egomania, blaming others (especially innocent characters) for their mistakes, sexual misconduct, and kicking puppies, to name a few. Sometimes, these can be used to make audiences hate the characters instantly, but that’s actually not always guaranteed. A great many characters that are among the most popular in their respective fandoms have one or more of these traits. Sometimes, that’s just because people love a good villain, but other times it’s because the character’s reasons for these flaws, or the character’s overall personality in general apart from the flaws, are very compelling and interesting. Just as some people love cinnamon rolls, some people prefer darker characters like these, and much like preferring different ice cream flavors, neither is superior to the other. These kinds of flaws also don’t always translate to truly inhuman, awful people either. Sometimes a character may actually be MORE human for them. The protagonist in a novel I once read was raised by his grandparents because his mother, who gave birth to him as a teen, hated him. She wanted nothing to do with him as a child, and outright told him she hated him when he was just barely an adult. The protagonist didn’t know why for most of his life, but eventually found out it was because he was born a twin, and his twin brother died when they were babies. He was born big, healthy, and strong, whereas his brother had been tiny and weak and sick, probably because he sapped the bulk of the nutrients in the womb, which sadly is something that sometimes happens. The mother was devastated by the death of her weaker son, and blamed the surviving one, feeling he was a monster baby that killed his sibling, not to mention resented how he was fawned over by the rest of her family when they had treated her like dirt, including her own parents. This woman was not meant as sympathetic to readers. It was pretty clear to me that the writer wanted us to see her as horrible. And what she did was completely horrible indeed. She blamed an innocent baby for something not possibly his fault, and held that against him his whole life. That’s unforgivably awful, and there’s no excuse for it. Yet it’s such a human reaction that it made me feel for her. People often are illogical and awful in ways like this, it’s very believable to me that a human being would feel this way. It was meant to make her an irredeemable strawman, but my reaction was to see her now as less of a 2D “bad mother” cutout, and more of a person. Sometimes, it’s the worst in people that can win us over, because that can sometimes be the most human part of them. Note that this will often be divisive; I’m sure a lot of readers actually did hate this woman all the more for this, and that’s a totally valid reaction too. However, if you wish to make your character truly despicable, hurting children or cute animals is generally a good way to go; most readers won’t forgive that (though I’ve seen it happen) That said, be warned that making your character sexy or tragic (especially in combination) will inevitably make some fans fawn over them regardless of how evil they are, and there’s not much you can do about it. Someone is ALWAYS going to find the bad guy hot/sympathetic even when you’re not SUPPOSED to. Now that we’ve covered the different categories of GOOD ways to write flaws, here are some ways that I see people failing at writing flaws: INFORMED FLAWS Informed flaws are flaws that the writer CLAIMS the character has, but never actually show up. For instance, they SAY that this character is standoffish, has a temper, and can be cruel, but only ever write him as being lovably surly at worst, and typically very tolerant and patient with others (especially cute children or cinnamon bun types) Or they claim that the character is shy and insecure, but here they are trying out for the lead in the school play without anyone pushing them to do it. This is often due to the author being overly affectionate towards their character. In the first example, they want their character to be a tough guy, but an ENDEARING tough guy, and not risk him doing anything that the audience might possibly dislike him for. So they go overboard with showing his “soft” moments, while never showing the “hard” ones that are what would make the “soft” ones actually special and unusual. In the second example, maybe the character is just shy and insecure in a different way (like they’re comfortable on-stage because there’s no actual interaction with people, and crumble when in real conversations) but more likely, they’re just acting out-of-character because the author WANTS them to be the lead in the play, regardless of how little sense it makes for them to try out and get the part. Informed flaws are basically a failure of a “show, don’t tell” rule. We’re TOLD that this character has a flaw, but we’re either never shown it, or shown the exact opposite. For instance, we may be told that this character never opens up to people because of her dark past, but it sure doesn’t seem that way if she immediately starts talking about that dark past to first man who shows interest in her as she falls into his arms. And it’s hard to take a writer’s claim that their character is “humble” with any seriousness if that character has a habit of bringing up his numerous talents and accomplishments in every conversation. And you may SAY that a character tends to get jealous, but how do we KNOW if she never encounters anyone she’s jealous of? INCONSEQUENTIAL FLAWS The character is a rude abrasive jerk, but everyone likes her immediately anyway! Maybe they can instantly see past her snarky surface to the sensitive soul beneath, or maybe they respect her toughness and candor. Some people have a problem with her attitude, but they’re either prudish sticks-in-the-mod, overly sensitive namby-pambies, sexists who are threatened by a strong woman, or they come around to respecting/liking her in the end! The character hates breaking rules and getting into trouble; he craves approval from authority, and will tell on his friends to get it. Fortunately, he’s never put in this position, or, if he does, his friends understand and forgive him, and may even agree that he did the right thing. The character is impulsive and acts on their first thought, if they think at all. Luckily, her assumptions prove correct (or at least lead her to the right place) and her reckless actions not only don’t cause any problems, they save the day! Everyone is proud of her, and no one scolds her for anything she did along the way that might have broken protocol or endangered other people. The character is super hostile anyone breaking his routine...but then his routine never gets broke in the story or any of his interactions. He’s also terrified of animals, but luckily no animals appear in the story. And he’s an asshole at work, but none of the story takes place there and none of the other characters are his co-workers. See the problem? None of these flaws MATTER. They either don’t come up in the story at all, and thus never get a chance to affect the character, or if they do come up, they don’t cause any problems for the character, and in fact may benefit them. That’s not a flaw. It doesn’t matter if your character is a freaking SERIAL KILLER if they never face any kind of issue because of it, it’s not a flaw in the context of the story unless it works AGAINST your character in some way. ACCIDENTAL FLAWS These often overlap with inconsequential flaws, and are kind of the opposite of informed flaws. In the case of informed flaws, the author claims to us that the character has a flaw, but then fails to show it (or shows the opposite). In the case of accidental flaws, the author claims that the character DOESN’T have a certain flaw...and then proceeds to give them exactly that. For instance, how many times have you been reading a novel where the heroine INSISTS that she’s very plain and not pretty at all, then proceeded to give us an extremely flattering description of herself? How many times have you read something where the protagonist was acting like a huge jerk, but you got the impression from how it was written that the author expected us to be cheering him on, and anyone who thought he was indeed a jerk was portrayed as always unlikable and in the wrong? This is a case where the writer is either so oblivious or so in love with their own character that they become unaware of how obnoxious their darling is actually coming off. They rush to justify everything she does, they portray any opposition as simply evil or jealous or stupid, they overlook any kind of actual harm that he’s doing to anyone else, and they often make the villains end up accidentally sympathetic by comparison because the hero we’re supposed to love and admire is just so unbearable. The writer has made a very flawed character---but they didn’t mean or want to, and that’s the problem. WEAKNESSES Weaknesses aren’t flaws. Being clumsy, having a physical disability, or being a member of an oppressed/disliked group is not a flaw. Flaws are personality traits. They can be the RESULT of things like trauma or mental disorders, so they’re not always changeable or the person’s fault, but they’re still part of WHO they are, not WHAT, and something they can be held accountable for. If your character’s only “flaws” are being deaf and having PTSD and being an elf in a world that doesn’t like elves, those aren’t flaws, they’re weaknesses or drawbacks. If they’re lacking in some skill, such as fencing or shooting or flipping hamburgers, that’s also not a flaw. It could be a flaw if having the skill is important yet they refuse to work on it (ex: a police officer who doesn’t bother to improve his aim) but it is not in itself a flaw. Hell, it’s not even a weakness unless it’s relevant---I don’t know how to use a gun, but there’s no reason that it’s immediately relevant to my life to do so, so I wouldn’t count it as a weakness or a flaw. TIPS: - Try to be objective as you can about your character, even if you love them. Keep in mind that the other characters around them are people with thoughts and feelings too, and that if your character is rude, cruel, annoying, or off-putting to them, then they may have good reason for disliking or losing patience with your character, no matter what good reason your character has for being that way. If your atheist character trashes the faith of a religious character, it doesn’t matter if they grew up in a household of religious abuse, they’re still being a jerk and the religious character has a right to think so. If your character loses their temper and wrecks a store, it doesn’t matter that they were provoked or are really a nice person, the store owner is still well within their rights to press charges and demand compensation. Avoid vilifying other characters, and take their pain and personhood as seriously as you do the main character’s own. This alone will open the door to showing a lot of flaws that your character has, which will let you then decide if that’s the amount you WANT your character to have, or if you should change some things. - Any trait, including very good traits, can be bad taken to the extreme. For instance, let’s take a common “interview flaw”--- loyal no matter what. A lot of people don’t realize just how dark this can get. But what if your character is so loyal to their friend that they overlook it not only when that friend treats them badly, but treats other people too? What if they discover the friend has done something terrible, like is abusing his wife? What if they’re loyal to a fault to a supervillain organization that is actively hurting or even killing people, and they KNOW this? You can take this some pretty terrible places if you want. You don’t HAVE to, it can remain in “cinnamon roll” or “normal” territory if that’s what you want, but if you’re looking to make a more dark scenario, remember that you don’t need to rely on inherently “dark” flaws like “he loves to hurt people”---the most mild and even positive traits can become disturbing and evil if taken far enough. - If you’re trying to make someone MORE flawed, look at the flaws they already have and consider how it might hurt OTHER PEOPLE instead of just the character. For instance, if your character is very insecure, perhaps instead of just thinking about how worthless or untalented they are, they are overly-critical, even mean, to people who are even less talented. Or when someone else is more talented at something they wish they were better at, they scrutinize that person to find bad things about them, or even just assume things about them---like “sure, she’s a much better artist than me, but she’s ugly and she can’t write worth a damn” or “he may have a girlfriend and be good-looking, but he’s dumb as a brick and probably a bully like all dumb jocks”. An attitude like that takes your character from simply being the purely sympathetic sort of insecure, to someone who is actually doing something wrong because of it. Again, this is if you WANT your character to have more of an edge; it doesn’t suit some characters, and that’s ok. - By the same token, if you want to take some edge OFF your character and make them less flawed, look at how their present flaws might negatively affect others, and decrease that. If  the character you WANT to be a “cinnamon bun” lashes out at people who just don’t understand her pain/genius/specialness/goodness/etc, maybe reconsider that. - If you want to get ideas for flaws, look at the things other people do that annoy you. What are your pet peeves? Maybe you hate “Karen” behavior, or people who don’t take proper care of their pets, people who think they’re funny or clever when they’re not, people who interrupt you when you’re talking, people who make assumptions, people you feel are fishing for attention, people who believe or share false information without checking it first, people who never seem to listen or learn, people who are always late, people who feel entitled to something, and so on. See if any of them fit your character. Be sure to be honest with yourself---yes, you REALLY love your tough guy character, and you HATE when smokers just throw their butts on the ground...but maybe he would? And maybe he WOULD be snappish with someone who didn’t deserve it? And maybe he WOULD be quick to stereotype others, such as labeling them privileged preps based on how they dress? Think about it. - Zodiac signs are another good place to get ideas for flaws, as are Myers-Briggs personality types, and anything else that categorizes people into different personality types. Note that your character need not actually, say, have that sign for their zodiac, it’s just good places to get base personality ideas. - Try to keep your voice out of your character’s mouth, and let their actions speak for themselves. Whether you want to portray the world’s sweetest cinnamon roll (tired of that phrase yet?) or the worst dumpster fire in the universe, what works to show that isn’t for your character or those around them to TALK about how sweet/terrible your character is, what works is to actually have them do and say things that are sweet/terrible! - Get second opinions! You want to make your character MORE of a jerk? You’re worried they’re TOO MUCH of a jerk? You think your villain is too soft? You want to add moral ambiguity to your hero? Get other people to look at your work! Friends are great for this, but what’s even better is people who aren’t particularly close to you, and won’t hold back on honest advice and feedback.If you want to see how your characters come off to a set of unbiased eyes, the best way is to ask someone! - Remember that everyone is different and no matter how well you portray a character the way you intend, there will always be someone who views them in a way you didn’t want them to at all, even if it makes no sense for them to do so. Make peace with it. Don’t dismiss everyone by saying they “didn’t understand” or “read it wrong” or “are interrogating the text from the wrong perspective”, but by the same token don’t get too hung up on making sure every single reader views every single character the exact way you wanted. It just won’t happen. Just do your best.

[rannadylin]

Character Interview: Ianthina

Next up - I think @queen-scribbles​ was the next to tag me for one of these? And I’ll open tag this one since it’s been going back and forth between most of my mutuals for a while, so if anyone has more OCs you want to interview, please claim a tag from me!

Ianthina deigned to give the next interview, with lovely art by @grumpy-jedi​!

name ➔ Ianthina ix Teveris

are you single ➔ Yes. The alternative is too much trouble.

are you happy ➔ Yes, generally speaking. In a bittersweet way; I have lived long enough now to miss many loved ones who did not share the lifespan of elves – and some elves who did not enjoy the years they should have. But I have made a good life for myself and I have a purpose here.

are you angry ➔ Oh, occasionally. But it’s a futile luxury to indulge in; I have things to do.

are your parents still married ➔  My parents died in a storm long ago. Their souls have long since passed through Berath’s care and into new lives, so the odds that they are again married are very slim.

NINE FACTS

birth place ➔ The village hasn’t existed for so long you would not recognize its name.

hair colour ➔ Brown

eye colour ➔ Grey

birthday ➔ It feels rather awkward celebrating it these days, but it was in late autumn.

mood ➔ Practical

color scheme ➔ Blues, mostly. Sometimes greens, greys, browns.

gender ➔ Female.

summer or winter ➔ Summer is much more convenient for burials, among most other things.

morning or afternoon ➔ Afternoon.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ Not since more than your lifetime ago.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ Oh, it exists, but it rarely lasts. I suppose in that case “love” is the wrong word for it.

who ended your last relationship ➔ I blame him, but to be fair it was more the cause than our relationship he was deserting.

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ The same. I…had to pose as returning to him in order to infiltrate Iovara’s camp. Even if I owed him nothing at that point, now I do regret going about it that way a little, giving him false hope. The second ending was worse than the first.

are you afraid of commitments ➔ I do not trust easily. And I give my word more carefully, these days.

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ I’m afraid not. Few around me do not find Berath’s high priest intimidating, for some reason. (Long ago, Glynis would have made sure I could always answer yes to this….but alas, she must have long since returned to the Wheel.)

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ For a few months shortly after I was made high priest of Berath, yes, there were a series of letters. It was all very odd, and I never pursued the matter. Whoever it was stopped writing after a while.

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ My heart is more resilient than that.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ Preferably love, but I think my days for both are past.

lemonade or iced tea ➔ Tea.

cats or dogs ➔ Cats.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ A few who prove trustworthy.

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ In.

day or night ➔ My calling tends to require my attendance more often in the night, as it happens.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ I never really tried that when I was a girl in my parents’ home. I don’t know if I would call it sneaking out when I left the Inquisition, either, but no one stopped me.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ I do know enough to watch where I step.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Oh, most certainly.

wanted to disappear ➔ Ever since Berath spared my life in the storm I have wished to be ever more present in the time gifted to me. And it is difficult to build and maintain the influence required for that without being visible.

been involved in a fight you thought you couldn’t win ➔ Every time I argue with Thaos I’m quite confident of not winning, but I do it anyway. Well, I did, when he was here.

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ Eyes.

shorter or taller ➔ Hm, taller, I think.

intelligence or attraction ➔ Intelligence.

hook-up or relationship ➔ Neither, anymore, but the idea of a relationship was once appealing.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔  That’s very complicated. For one, those I count as family now are not my blood relatives, since those are dead. And…I suppose it was presumptuous of me to ever think of the Grandmaster as family, but he did suffer me to speak my mind with him more freely than most. For Thaos, that surely counts as “getting along”.

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ It has not been ideal, but I’ve made the best of it and have much to be thankful for.

have you ever ran away from home ➔ Only when it was destroyed by the storm and no longer a home. Well, and for a while I did leave my current home, questioning the circumstances of the Inquisition.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ No.

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ No, though some of the priests I work with require more patience than others.

do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ I’m not particularly close with most of them, but there are enough.

who is your best friend ➔ I’ve never really found anyone to replace Glynis. I still miss her, and always shall.

who knows everything about you ➔ Thaos most certainly did. And still will, when he returns to us, I’m sure.

[evesbeve]

Hellion, im a Ninja go can but I can't find those character and number things Like that other guy asked for Cole? I was wondering if you could do all the numbers but for Kai? I hope You have an awesome day!!

Send me a character + a number and I’ll tell you my headcanons for:

“Hellion, im a Ninja go can” is the biggest power move of a sentence you could have started this ask with. Also a power move? The fact that people are finding this ask challenge from a year ago.

SO OF COURSE I’M GONNA DO IT, I LOVE KAI NINJAGO WITH ALL I HAVE!

1. Their physical weak spots

His sides, and Nya uses it against him so much. She pokes him to get what she wants and Kai JUMPS on furniture to avoid her.

2. Their emotional/moral weak spots

His pride. Kai hates to be proven wrong, and always wants to be in the right. He blames himself for many things already, and that’s why he hates making mistakes. He doesn’t easily get over them.

3. Scars or painful spots

His most iconic scar is above across his left eye (I will always stan the OG Lego sets for that detail), but god. Kai has so many scars from when he used to be a blacksmith AND from battles. His hands are just filled with scars.

4. Best places to kiss on their body

hIS HAND. He always kisses other people’s hands because he thinks it’s the most romantic thing ever, and he is so offended when no one picks up on the fact that he wants hand kisses too, dammit!

5. Guilty pleasures

Done this one already here, but I’d like to add up on it since it’s been a year: You know how when you make popcorn (especially microwave popcorn) it leaves some butter around the bag/bowl? Kai eats that for breakfast he finds it so tasty. He and Nya used to make popcorn a lot when they were little, and he’d take a spoon and SCOOP THE THING OUT AND EAT IT.

No, I will neither confirm nor deny whether I did this as a kid or not. Next question.

6. Their vices (physical or emotional)

Kai Ninjago is a hot-head. He snaps when he is mad without thinking, and oh boy, he regrets the things he says so much afterwards, ‘cause people Get Hurt™.

7. Their tickle spots

As said before, he has VERY sensitive sides. Also his armpits.

8. Bad memories/experiences

When Nya was kidnapped in the pilots? The ANXIETY that grew inside of him can’t be explained with words.

His parents disappeared when he was little, and the thought of losing his sister too? Nope, nope, nope. Save him.

9. Humiliating memories

When he tried to fight Garmadon to prove he is the green ninja in season one, NO ONE EVER LIVES IT DOWN, OKAY. HE WAS SO INTO THE MOMENT SCREAMING ABOUT HIS POWER AND HE IS SO ASHAMED OF IT.

No one really blames him but,,, they never leave him alone about it.

OH AND ALSO WHEN HE PROCEEDED TO PUT ON THE GREEN NINJA GI AND POSE AND SCREAM NCFHREJD I’m sorry I love Kai, okay

10. Fears/phobias

We all know that boo is afraid of water, and he’s valid for it. Also gingerbread men and elves. I STILL need context to that.

11. Bad or petty habits

(I don’t know how much worse it can get after the popcorn one but) he tends to play with his hand scars? Like he’ll pick on them and “Wait is that blood, crap”. He doesn’t realise he’s doing it, most of the time.

12. Grudges and vendettas

A grudge he’s not quite over yet is definitely on Chen. Also Krux and Acronix, for obvious reasons.

13. What gets them flustered

Any throwback to his childhood. He has walked in on Nya telling the others stories too many times to count, and he HATES it.

14. Ingrained habits/forces of habit

The thing I had written about guilty pleasures a year ago fits here perfectly to be honest. He LOVES playing with other people’s hair, so he just… does. He makes tiny braids with his own hair when Wu is teaching them something, he twirls it, runs his fingers through it…

And he knows how to do the BEST hairstyles, okay? He learned for Nya when they were little, and now the entire team gets a makeover.

15. What it takes to make them cry

“Kai, you’ll be teaming up with Jay.”

16. Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’

Sometimes when he is angry, he takes part in boxing matches, just like in season four after Zane’s “death”. It’s tied to bad memories, so he doesn’t want the others to know.

17. Regrets

Too many to count. He always regrets getting into fights with the others though. It hurts him to fight with his family :c

18. Things they’ll never admit

I still stand by the thing I wrote a year ago. You can see it here!

19. People they’ve hurt or indirectly killed, and how it affected them

It’s scary for him every time they take another bad guy down. Yes, they were bad people, but what if. He’s okay with putting their enemies in Kryptarium, but when it comes to banishing or even killing, it never leaves his mind. (He still feels guilty for what happened to Garmadon after the tournament, even if it wasn’t directly his fault.)

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

Hairstylist, FIGHT ME. If he’d never become a ninja, he and Nya would move in Ninjago City, eventually, and he’d have his own hair salon and he’d ROCK it. I love him.

21. Turning points in their life

Realising he wasn’t meant to be the green ninja but to protect him? I mean, that really changed the way he saw things, and not just with Lloyd. It opened up his horizons and he expanded his state of mind, letting him see more points of views in missions and his everyday life.

22. People who’ve influenced them greatly

It’s pretty safe to say that the entire team changed his life. He considers everyone his family, and he loves them so so so much. Kai can’t see himself without them by his side

Thank you so much for the ask!! Honestly I loved writing these, even if my blog isn’t exclusively for Ninjago anymore. I love this show and all its dumb children ;w;

[impossible-rat-babies]

For the @dadrunkwriting monthly prompt “oh no we’re stuck here!” Funny enough most of this came from some very old writing I did back in 2016 that I’ve held onto for several years now. I changed a great deal of it around, but it’s still very interesting to compare between my writing skill then and now.

Pavellan | 2445 words | some character introspection really + pining

--

Elven ruins would be fun, he had said. On top of the searching for any references as to why Corphyeus was ransacking them all over Thedas, it would be fun to see a slice of history and ancient magic. Hopefully without any negative side effects, but luck was rarely if ever on their side. Dorian was kidding himself; luck was rarely on their sides, especially taking Darva anywhere. He was a magnet for anything and everything going wrong. It shouldn't have surprised him that much when they stepped into some little alcove--at his behest--that some magical switch or another would trigger and drop a rather large stone door over the entrance.

Sera had yelled, let out some ungodly sound with the cacophonous crash. Both Cassandra had tried to grab to lift it open, but it was a futile effort in the face of thousands of pounds of rock. He should have seen it coming, but hindsight was only kind in the pitch black dark and the sure feeling that they were completely and utterly stuck.

"This is the most excitement we've ever gotten out of these old ruins." Dorian grumbled, listening to Darva still fussing about the door, cursing under his breath. Dorian ran his hands down his face, a heavy sigh escaping him.

"Could be more exciting if you could make some light to see how much fun my face is having." Darva mumbled, abandoning the door to yank his helmet off. He shook his head, pulling down the wrap around his hair.

"Oh I'm sure it is utterly delightful." Dorian replied and Darva squinted at the sudden spot of flame in Dorian’s hand. It casted shadows across the whole of the small enclosed room and onto Darva’s scrunched up face.

"You look more like you're going to sneeze. And your hair is a mess." He noted and Darva huffed, tucking his helmet under his arm to ruffle his hair. It only served to make the curls poofier, which looked not unlike a strange bird nest on top of Darva’s head.

"You're impossible..." He muttered under his breath, turning back to the door. “At least Sera and Cass saw it happen, so hopefully they'll figure something out." He heaved and sigh and ran his fingers down his face.

"It was the magic that affected it, I’d wager...do we still have that bet going? On how your extraordinary bad luck is magical?" Dorian asked, a hint of cheekiness in his tone.

"My bad luck isn’t magical; it’s as you put once: you're simply a complete and utter fool a great deal of the time." Darva replied with a wave of his hand and Dorian rolled his eyes.

“You’re far too charming with your ability to make friends and be...friendly with everyone to be that much of a fool.” Dorian spoke and Darva chuckled, glancing over at him with his green eyes reflecting in the dim light.

“Do I have you all fooled then? Because it rather feels like the blind leading the blind.” Darva mocked him and Dorian scoffed.

They'd been traveling all across Thedas for months now, following threads of rumors on who was planning to kill the Empress and what was going on with the Wardens. Only slivers of leads, but a small lead was better than nothing, even if it took them to the strangest places. Deserts had left Sera with a terrible sunburn she whined about for weeks and sand still in the pockets and crevices of old gear. Many pairs of boots had been ruined by rain and mud seeping into the leather, others worn to the barest sole from sliding and skidding across rocky ground and putting one foot in front of the other. Countless whetstones and spare cloth had been used to sharpen daggers and swords alike; hundreds of broken bow strings had nearly costed Sera her eye, but each time it happened she laughed and got to work restringing her bow. There was little around but the four of them on the long treks, only the four of them to talk to, to keep entertained. There was only so much “sightseeing” one could do before it as mind numbing. Camps in the wilderness left little to entertain them beyond talking to each other or making a game to pass the time; none of them quite had Varric’s talent for stories, but Sera still tried and they were all plenty good enough at cards even with Darva cheating. Even more so after he had taught Sera how to cheat too.

It was a strange collection they had, the company that was presented as the Inquisition, but they were trying their best. It was all anyone could ask of them, all that could be asked of Darva.

“Best not let them hear you say that, or the facade of their great leader in shining armor would be ruined.” Dorian jested and Darva laughed.

“Yes, the wicked skill and integrity of a dalish elf with zero leadership experiences. They should all be disappointed.” Darva remarked, his tone skirting the line between jest and genuine self deprecation. A narrow line.

“You’re selling yourself awful short. I’ve never quite met a man so set on exploring ruins, even if they might kill you. A wondrous shame to die alongside you in a horrid ruin." Dorian spoke, letting the flame go. It rose up to the ceiling, casting a pale orange light all across the small alcove.

“At least dying would be for a good cause. You could be a martyr, Dorian! Even if your magic is the one to blame.” Darva joked, plopping down among the dirt and grime, examining and picking his nails.

"Hardly my fault if the ruins decide that magic isn’t their forte." He resigned himself and grimaced at the ground. He would rather sit than stand, even if the ground was rather...ghastly. He sat himself down beside Darva, almost close enough to touch--to reach out and brush fingers against skin.

“Oh? Where is all that pride in your great and wondrous skill in magic?” Darva smirked and Dorian rolled his eyes, tucking his staff against his neck, resting his hands on the haft.

"Now you're just making fun of me." He huffed.

"I am not." Darva insisted and Dorian’s face curled, mustache raising in indignation. "Well, only half making fun of you, but I’m being honest." Darva patted Dorian's thigh, his hand drifting away before the shock of the simple touch wore off. Dorian cursed his reaction, how it felt like electricity on his skin with just the simplest touch; it was a simple reassurance, nothing more. A touch from...a friend to a friend, nothing more. Not all it took to break the thought from his head, but enough for his reaction to quiet.

"You flatter with reckless abandon, I’ll have you know.” Dorian replied quickly and Darva snorted.

“It only means something if you’re honest about it.” Darva pointed out. “Which I was in this case. And I do learn from the best.”

"You know you do have a tone for that and it’s a sickeningly sweet flattering tone. Perfect for the ladies who flirt with you with reckless abandon." Dorian remarked and Darva laughed, bright and warm, like sunlight in the depths of summer. It never failed to color Dorian’s cheeks, light up the little places in his chest.

"Never going to get anything past you, hm?” Darva raised a brow and his lips curved to a grin just so. Dorian casted his eyes away, ears burning. Always and forever foolish notions bubbling in his head.

“Maybe, if we ever get out of here.” Dorian leaned his head back against the stone, neither warm nor cool to the touch, almost tingling against his skin. Old elvish places were full of magic, just crackling below the surface.

"You think they forgot?" Darva wondered, lips quirking. He had no clue how long they had been sitting in the dark, alcove room. His butt was numb and Dorian fussed with his mustache, tweaking the ends over and over in a nervous tick.

"I would hope not.” Dorian sighed, drumming his fingers against his staff haft. The flame bobbed steadily above them, carried by the air still flowing into the chamber. It hardly seemed designed to choke them, but dying in other ways was much less enjoyable.

"You don't have to keep the light on, you know. I can imagine it gets exhausting..." Darva told him and he put his hands on his knees, willing his legs to stand. He shook out his ankles, gingerly rubbing the numb out of his butt.

"It makes it feel less like the temple is going to trap us here forever and kill us." Dorian droned and Darva sighed, rocking from one foot to the other, hip to hip.

"Cheery thought..." He brushed himself off and looked back at the imposing block of stone that had blocked their way.

"Maybe it's a puzzle or something." He added, looking at the stones. "Not like any of the temples give you their secrets readily, but the ancient elves were fond of puzzles." He mused, biting his finger as he scanned the patterns of the stone. A nervous habit of his own.

"Might as well give it a try." Dorian blew a sigh out of his nose, watching as Darva’s foot tapped on the ground, fingers fidgeting.

How he was going to figure it out was beyond Dorian; he didn’t necessarily doubt Darva's abilities, but skepticism wasn't unwarranted. Darva could be foolish, but many would be fools to think he was stupid. He had a head on his shoulders, one capable of frightening amounts of determination. Dorian had witnessed it when he took the burden of leading the Inquisition, taking the struggles of it in stride with a half grin on his face, saying it was another adventure along the way. Or even back when Haven was destroyed when Cassandra and Cullen carried him half frozen into the camp, lips and ears a deep blue, shivering all over, but eyes still open. Struggling to stay open, but still open.

"Indulge me, will you Darva?" Dorian questioned and Darva took a moment, foot still tapping on the floor.

"What'cha got?" He replied, eyes still on the stonework.

"You didn’t want to be Inquisitor, but you took it up anyway. You didn’t go running, or leave when you could have. You kept going. Why?" Dorian asked, watching as Darva looked all around the stonework. The silence stretched on and on between them until Darva finally spoke up.

"Combination: conscience, and making it up along the way. No one else was going to do it, so I decided I was going to do it. I don’t want to be a savior. I’m just helping people." He spoke surprisingly sincerely, his focus still on the stones as he mouthed numbers and pressed against them.

Dorian chuckled in disbelief. "Just like that then? You make choices that influence the whole world and the future of it by making it up along the way and doing it because no one else will?" He pressed and Darva shrugged, putting his hands on his hips.

"I may be oversimplifying it. There are people around whom I rely on to help make choices. Informed ones hopefully. Leliana gives me reports, plus Josephine does a lot of the heavy lifting. Plus you. You do read to me in fact.”

"Giving me as much credit as them? What will people think?” Dorian snickered and Darva laughed quietly.

"Right? Mother Giselle would have a heart attack." Darva shook his head, his grin lopsided--his big tell on his genuine enjoyment.

"But, still," Darva cleared his throat, "you are a mage, which I am not, and you have insight and abilities the other Mages in the Inquisition do not have. You are also from Tevinter, and there is a rather large lack of such opinions in the Inquisition.” Darva explained.

“An opinion many would not want.” Dorian reminded him and Darva gave a casual shrug as if the weight of the statement ran right off of him.

“You are Tevene, but not all Tevene people are you.” Darva reminded him, giving him a pointed look. “You hardly meet the expectation of the horrifying legend the south has built up. You want to do good and to help the people you care about. You have faith in them--in how they can be better. You haven’t sat idly by. You’ve risked everything to help people who don’t even like you, Dorian.” Darva spoke quietly, keen eyes watching Dorian the whole time.

“I value your opinion highly.” He concluded, looking back at the stones. Quiet filed the space between them and Dorian sat in it, unsure of what to say next. Genuine praise from a man who was rarely genuine, who hid much of that behind a mask of niceties, of strained happy looks. He bore the burdens as well, but underneath Dorian saw the cracks--the strain. 

It was easy to see, seeing how they shared that much between them.

“You are selling yourself awfully short as well, Darva.”

Darva turned back, brow raising with a question on his lips.

“Playing the paying a compliment back game?” Darva asked, something in his tone, something in his eyes: skepticism, frustration.

“No.” Dorian spoke plainly, meeting Darva’s eyes. He pushed himself up, only a few short steps to reach him. “I am being honest and genuine. Not many could do what you are doing, and you are doing it well. You’ve been trusted to this position and you’ve worn it well. It’s...brave.” Dorian spoke plainly--plainer than Darva had ever heard him speak before. No gimmicks hiding behind his teeth, or testing the boundaries of it in his eyes.

Darva managed a half chuckle, looking away from Dorian. “I keep expecting a joke. Genuine honesty in hard to come by, I’ll have you know.” Darva half grinned and Dorian snickered.

“It’s strange to say, I’ll have you know.” A faint smile twisted Dorian’s face and Darva chuckled.

“Well I do rather appreciate genuine Dorian honesty.” Darva gently reached out, lightly patting his hand against Dorian’s chest, fingers lingering longer than they needed to--longer than appropriate.

But it only took a second for Darva to pull his hand away, for the touch to end and the intimacy that came with it. The warmth snuffed out, as quick as flame with a cover pulled over it. Only smoke remained, the touch still felt.

“We’re going to get out of here.” Darva spoke to clear the smoke, the embers dying back to nothing once more. 

[allisondraste]

Justice

Word Count: 2003

Pairing: Alistair X F!Amell

Other Characters: Loghain and Anora Mac Tir, Eamon Guerrin

Summary: The Landsmeet does not go as Alistair hopes, and a can of worms is opened for all the bannorn to see. Thank goodness there’s no real darkspawn threat right?

AO3 link for peeps who prefer that format. 

“You have some of Maric in you after all,” Loghain admitted as he bowed his head, conceding defeat to the furious Alistair who stood before him, sword held high above his head prepared to execute him on the spot.

Alistair closed his eyes and swung down forcefully, startled when he felt his sword strike something hard and metal, a clank and a swish as steel met steel. Had the traitor decided to continue fighting after all? He reared back preparing to strike again, only to open his eyes and see Lucia, of all people, standing between him and his intended target, her own runed sword in her hand, sparks of lightning jumping from it in every direction. For the first time ever, he wished she was just an ordinary, staff-wielding mage.

She glared at him beneath furrowed brows, her eyes saying everything her mouth did not. It was almost as if she expected him to show mercy. After all the suffering they had withstood because of this man, she still did not think he deserved to die. Alistair disagreed.

“Move,” he growled, commanded even, his own voice burning in his throat. This man was responsible for Duncan’s death, for the rest of the Wardens’ deaths! Alistair has every right to kill him. He was right.

“Alistair.” His name was like a question on her lips, as if she did not quite recognize him. Her sad eyes glittered fiercely at him, in what could only be described as disappointment.

“You can’t ask me to spare him.” His voice was calmer now, but cooler than he knew he could be. “You can’t.” His knuckles were white against the hilt of his sword and he was trembling. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his chest tightened like a vice.

“And you can’t ask me to stand by and watch as you bloody your hands for no reason.” Lucia wedged her way further between Alistair and the defeated Teyrn kneeling on the floor, his daughter now at his side. “This is not who you are. This is not how we do things.”

“He would have had us killed were the tables turned,” he said, his words desperate, “He’s already tried to have us killed multiple times, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten. I just thought we were better than that.” Lucia’s voice and eyes softened. “I thought you were better than that.”

“Yeah, well maybe I’m not,” he spat. Had he not been so angry, he would have immediately regretted his tone. “Duncan and the others deserve justice. King Cailan deserves justice.”

“Revenge isn’t justice, Alistair, and you know it.” She reached out to touch him and he jerked away, his heart sinking at the hurt look on her face. “Killing Loghain here, in front of the Landsmeet, in front of his daughter, won't bring them back.

“If you really want justice for Duncan and Cailan, then let’s end these petty politics and kill the darkspawn who are actually responsible. Unless, of course, you’d rather continue this tantrum.”

“Tantrum? Tantrum? Is that what you think this is?” There were miles between them now, despite standing close enough that Alistair could feel her breath. “You know what, Luce? Let the Teyrn help you with the Archdemon.” He threw his sword to the ground at their feet and stormed out of the throne room, the eyes of every noble in the bannorn searing into his back.

As Alistair left, the room fell silent, only hushed murmurs from the galleries remained as arls and arlessas watched the theatrics in bewilderment. Heat rushed to Lucia’s face as eyes turned to stare at her. Damn him. Damn herself too, for that matter.

Her words had been unfair. Alistair blamed Loghain because he needed to. He needed to believe that Duncan’s death had not simply been the casualty of a battle that nobody was prepared for. There were so many unexpected obstacles that night at Ostagar, it was difficult to say if Loghain’s men could have made any difference at all. Of course, the Teyrn had taken some reprehensible actions against the Wardens and elves in the Alienage, but the Hero of Riverdane, the late King Maric’s most trusted advisor, could not be completely terrible.

Her stomach lurched as she looked to Anora for a response. Eamon spoke, instead, “Look what you have done, child.” His voice was condescending, and he turned up his nose at her, threading fingers through his coarse beard.

“With all due respect, Arl Eamon,” Anora said with dignity as she stood and straightened out her skirts, “Shut up.” Her icy blue eyes pierced him, so much like her father’s. Loghain beamed slightly, a soft expression Lucia had yet to see from him. “You have done quite enough.”

“Your Majesty.” Lucia bowed her head reverently, fear creeping in the back of her mind. Would Anora take action against the Wardens, or worse, against Alistair for being so insistent that her father die? “I’m sorry for -.”

She stopped as Anora glided more closely to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, her eyes glossed with tears. It was a look of gratitude and understanding that words could not have conveyed. She squeezed Lucia’s shoulder slightly before bringing her hand to her side. Her eyes steeled.

“Guards,” she ordered as she turned her head to one of the captains that stood behind her. Lucia cringed waiting to hear the words she dreaded, waiting for Anora to order Alistair found and brought back to the castle. He was a threat to her rule after all.

“Take my father to the dungeons,” Anora continued, a pained expression crossing her face as she said the words. “I am grateful his life was spared, but his crimes against Ferelden cannot go unpunished.”

Lucia brought her hands to her mouth in shock, watching Loghain kiss his daughter on the cheek as the guards took him away. There was still pride in his eyes. In that moment, she knew her decision to spare the Teyrn had been the right one. Whatever rift she created between Alistair and herself, she had done the right thing.

“You cannot possibly think this is a good decision warden,” Eamon protested, his voice cracking, “Leaving the usurper alive and his daughter on the throne.”

“And it would have been a better decision to let you blackmail and manipulate Alistair so that he would rule when it is the furthest thing from what he wants.” Lucia postured, crossing her arms.

“It doesn’t matter what the boy wants.” Eamon was furious now. “It is what’s best for him, what’s best for Ferelden.

“Do tell me what is best for Alistair,” Lucia retorted dryly, her words like daggers. “I’m so eager to hear about concern from the man who made him sleep in the kennels growing up.” There was a gasp from the galleries. “You’ve never cared about Alistair in any capacity except for his connection to the throne.”

The hall fell silent and Anora looked between Lucia and the arl in dismay. Eamon looked away and scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably, and Lucia looked down at the dark, stone floor.

“Is this true?” Anora’s words were cold.

“You have to understand, th-,” Eamon attempted to plea in his own defense.

“I believe I understand quite clearly,” She cut him off with a wave of the hand, “You are fortunate that King Maric never learned of your abuse. I want you out. Teagan will take over your estate.”

“Out? Of Ferelden? Anora, you can’t be serious.” The man was reeling, his voice pitched and shaky. “It happened years ago. He’s a man now.”

“You betrayed the trust of the King! Treason, a crime punishable by death. I should think my offer of exile is much more lenient.”

Eamon growled and stormed out, scowling at Lucia as he did so. The crowds in the galleries cheered as Anora made her rallying speech to the Landsmeet. Lucia stayed and mingled for a bit after all of the excitement, but eventually ducked out through one of the doors at the side of the room. As much as she knew she should be there, she was emotionally exhausted and felt her resolve wearing away. She could have broken at any moment.

She hurried out of the palace, toward the Guerrin estate. She slowed as she navigated the hallways as reached her guest quarters, the room she and Alistair had shared just the night before. She entered swiftly, shutting the door behind her and breathing deeply as she pressed her back against the cool, rough wood. She startled when she opened her eyes. She had thought she would be alone.

Alistair leaned against the bedpost, staring into the torch that burned dimly in the sconce on the wall. He turned slightly when he heard her enter, watching her breathe and jump when she noticed his presence. He smiled, half heartedly before he looked back at the torch. It was easier than looking in Lucia’s eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here,” she muttered with a shaky voice. Her typically stoic face was filled with emotion. She was raw, and it was obvious.

“Neither was I,” he admitted with a sigh. He shuffled his feet and looked down at the floor before looking up at her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Normally it would be impossible to resist the urge to take her into his arms to soothe her, but not today. Today, she was his enemy.

“Then why?” She stepped forward, fists clenched at her side. “Did you come to say goodbye? Because that’s really not necessary.”

“About a half hour ago, my answer to that question would have been yes,” he explained with a bitter laugh, “I rushed down here to pack up my things. I was going to leave and you could deal with the Blight yourself.” He shifted uncomfortably and took a deep breath.

“Then why are you still here?” Her question was filled with a hurt so tangible it hung in the room like fog. “What changed your mind?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but... it was Morrigan.” Another bitter laugh. “She told me I was a ‘foolish child’ and that if I let you go over something as ‘idiotic’ as ‘not getting my way,’ I would regret it for the rest of my life.”

“She’s said things like that to you before.” Lucia crossed her arms the way she always did when she was bracing herself for bad news. “Why listen to her now?”

“Because this time, she was right.” He stood up from his casual lean and paced around a bit before approaching Lucia and taking her hands in his. “Luce, we’re going to battle an Archdemon tomorrow. I could die, you could die. We both could. Who knows? In any case, I don’t want to go into that battle with any doubt in the air that I love you.”

“Alistair-.”

“I am furious with you, more furious than I have ever been with you. And, honestly I don’t know how long it will take for me to stop being so angry.” He held back his tears as he spoke, his chest burning from the strain. “But I can’t handle the thought of being without you. Not now. Not ever.”

Lucia released and anguished sob, and he relented, pulling her into him and kissing her hair. She trembled under his touch, her hands clinging tightly to his shirt.

“I thought I lost you,” she cried into his chest, her words muffled.

“As it turns out,” he laughed, tightening the embrace “I don’t think you could.”

They stood holding each other in the dim light, the torch slowly dying. They would discuss the details of the Landsmeet later, and the would work through it. Alistair had no doubt. But for now, it was enough to be angry together. It was enough to share rough, ragged kisses, so unlike their usual tenderness. Still being together, despite it all, was enough.