#groom shawls

[shaadiwish]

Bookmark These Amazing Wedding Trends For Grooms Of 2023 To Look Dapper As Ever! For More Such Trends And Ideas, Stay Tuned With ShaadiWish.

[sephsbat]

Cleanliness in Hellenism

The ancient Greeks were big on this idea of "miasma" - Miasma was the ancient Greek concept of spiritual pollution that had to be purified through rituals.

The Greeks had all these purification rituals. You'd have to bathe, make offerings to the gods, do special ceremonies - all that to cleanse yourself and be right with the divine. Couldn't even step foot in the temple without getting your purity on point first.

And it wasn't just religious spaces that had to be spotless - the Greeks were big on personal hygiene too. They enjoyed all that fresh fit and regular grooming. Anyone slacking on the cleanliness was probably seen as a total weirdo.

So yeah, purity and cleanliness were like, super important in the Hellenistic world. It was a big deal to keep that miasma away and stay right with the gods.

Modern Cleanliness & Purification

Meditation - Quieting your mind and focusing on your breath can help clear out any negative energy or emotional baggage you're carrying around.

Cleansing- Taking some sage or other fragrant herbs and wafting the smoke around your living space or even yourself can help throw out bad vibes.

Salt baths - Soaking in a tub full of Epsom salts or sea salt can help wash away stress and tension, both physical and mental.

Journaling - Writing down your thoughts and feelings can be super cathartic. Getting all that stuff out of your head and onto the page can make you feel lighter.

Spending time in nature - Being outdoors, whether it's a hike in the woods or just chilling in a park, can be incredibly cleansing.

Veiling - Covering your head with a scarf or shawl can help create a sense of sacred space and concentration during spiritual practices. You could also veil as a devotional act to your deities.

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello!! i loved your cregan x martell!reader work sm 😭😭 could you plz bless us with another one? i'm so curious about this pairing, was their marriage arranged or a love match? does little rickon exist in this au? what abt the war?

i'd be delighted to read more about them, if you're willing to write, of course :) thank you in advance!! i adore your writing <3

Heat

You take your husband to Dorne for your sister's wedding. He fairs horribly in the heat.

Cregan Stark x Martell!Reader | 600< | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, dramatic!cregan, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: HI NONNIE! this was my firs req since i closed em so YAY US (and it took me so long to write it lmao). it's just a lil blurb but i hope you like it! also this is the fic in question.

Tagging: @sloanexx

The Lord of Winterfell was leading the travelling party. We were deep in Dorne; Sunspear was already within view. And although the fearsome wolf of the North was not one you could easily defeat, he was steadily losing to the dessert sun.

"Cregan," I call out from my horse beside him, "you will get sun burnt if you keep your back bare."

The Warden of the North had one by one removed the clothes off his back. His face, chest, and back was flush and irritated in more ways than one as he looked at me, "and if I put a shirt on," his brows furrow, "I will faint because of the heat."

With a groan, I remove the silk shawl off my shoulders and I steer my horse closer to his. I place the the fabric on his burning flesh, immediately making him whimper. He shrug it off, "I'm sweaty."

"Cregan," I glare and grab my shawl before it drops, "you're overheating."

He rides faster.

"Cregan," I follow, "come here."

He gallops off as quickly as possible, running straight towards the gates of Sunspear. I am taken aback by his sudden fleeing. I look over to the rest of the party, all of which were Northerners equally melting in the heat, and decide to gallop into Sunspear as well for their sake.

Upon my arrival, I was greeted by many people, all of which expressed their delight to see me again. I greet them with glee as I dismount. I instruct the servants to attend to the men and give them something to cool off with.

"Sister!"

"Sister," I call back with a smile.

My younger sister, Calliope, embraces me and kisses my cheeks. I return her affection and brush her hair behind her ear, "you have grown more radiant since last I saw you, my love. Your groom is blessed to have you."

She giggles, "as is yours" she looks me up and down, "is this a glow of an expecting mother?"

"If it be the will of the gods," I smile and link arms with her, "Lord Stark has been most ardent in his duties."

We share a laugh.

Calliope leans in and raises a brow, "you should have brought a bit of snow with you, sister. I think your wolf has jumped into garden fountain."

"He what?"

My sister and I run off to the gardens, and sure enough, there laid the hulking man, body barely even submerged into the water.

"Cregan!" I snap, releasing my sister to fish out my husband, "you giant oaf!"

The man slowly sits up. He wipes water away from his face and smiles, "hello, beautiful wife."

"Get out of the fountain."

He spits out water.

"There are many pools in Sunspear where you actually fit," I reach a hand out.

He crawls over and takes my hand, only to pull me closer and kiss me. His dripping hand comes to my cheek. I whimper. He pulls away and smiles, "will you be joining me?"

I press my lips into a line, "get out of the pool, Stark."

The water sloshes as he gets on his knees and climbs out, "yes, Stark."

Water spills and drips onto the floor as Cregan stands next to me. My sister, Calliope, giggles from behind me. The man looks at her as she speaks, "it might do you well to know the nights at Dorne are cooler, my lord."

I make a face and pull my skirt away when it begins to absorb the pooling fountain water. Cregan notices this and grabs me by the waist, pulling me tightly against him.

"Cregan!"

He smirks and kisses my neck. I glare at him and he smirks at my sister, "I should hope so. My lady keeps me warm at night."

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 2 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

chapter 1 / chapter 3

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Your suit was still immaculate thanks to your incessant fiddling, adjusting, and pruning. If not for the gel wearing out in your hair and the sweat beading your brow, the illusion was almost believable. Your rings clinked against the sink's enamel, your silver accents glinting in the fluorescent lighting, while a person did their business in the stall behind you. You sighed and washed your hands.

Damn, the soap was nice. They'd really gone all out for the reception, the fall theme extending even to the cinnamon spice soap bars.

Who were you even trying to fool? You were hiding in the bathroom. You'd arrived on the scene of the reception party in relatively high spirits, convinced all was fine and dandy, that Gretchen was looking to make amends in this small way. But you'd been wrong.

The invitation hadn't been a fluke. There hadn't been some mistake, because on the little plaque where your name was scrawled in neat cursive sat another right next to it. On the round table where you'd be sitting, there would be Regina George directly to your left. On your other side would be Shane Oman. Across from you, Damian and Janis.

You stepped out of the bathroom, a lump still firmly lodged in your throat but resolve found. You'd brave it, be an adult about it. The breakup had been perfectly amicable, for the most part anyway, so there was no reason for you to be so wound up.

"The maid of honour is a major bitch." Amanda sidled up to you as you walked towards your table. She directed you to the bar by the arm.

"She won't let us switch?" You asked, dismayed but not surprised.

"She won't even let you move to the spare table," Amanda said indignantly. "The whole time, I swear, she was lookin' me up and down all judgy."

"Ugh," You groaned. "Can she get your strongest drink?" You motioned for the bartender. The man nodded with a smile, seeming relieved to be rescued from the old lady chatting him up. He was a good-looking fella, tattoo sleeves and a military haircut.

"Anything for you?" He asked you, eyes lingering on Amanda shyly. Amanda leered at him unabashedly, batting her eyelashes while he made her drink.

"Just a coke." You'd been sober for a good couple of years now, free of all substances. You'd had a nasty relapse in college, a disgraceful return to party drugs and obscene amounts of alcohol, but you'd been able to find your footing since. Largely due to Amanda's intervention.

"You gonna be alright?" Amanda asked, for now deciding not to make a move on the bartender. You knew she was biding her time, establishing tension before she struck. She picked up men like a shark.

"Sure, yeah. It's gonna be okay. It's just, y'know, my ex. And her ex. And her nemesis and that nemesis' best friend. All good."

Amanda eyed you warily. You sipped at your coke through a straw. She, too, took a large gulp.

By the time the bride and the groom made their entrance, you were sitting in your spot, desperately trying not to make eye contact with the other occupants of the table. Shane was squirming on your right, fiddling with what seemed to be an engagement ring. Janis and Damian, sitting across from you, didn't seem to have changed much, except obviously grown up.

Janis was still unapologetically goth, though seemingly turned more toward clean, angular lines rather than messy, smudged blacks. She had on a dress and a shawl, beaded bangles and silver jewellery covering her wrists. She'd gotten more piercings since you last saw her. Angel bites on her upper lip, a bridge between her eyes, and stretched ear lobes. There were some bold tattoos as well, such as a rose crawling up her neck and the head of a snake on the back of her hand, extending up her arm.

Damian was in a cute, velvety green suit. His shirt, white with light green fleur de lis patterns, had ruffles going down the buttons. The length of its sleeves also surpassed that of the suit's, which made the whole look seem kind of piratey. His natural hair, a poofy afro, the bulky red-tinted glasses, and the pointy boots he had on gave off a bohemian seventies disco star vibe. He had a very specific aesthetic and you couldn't help but be impressed.

The seat on your left was pointedly lacking a person. Only the plaque was there along with its elegant scrawl. You crossed your legs and threaded your fingers together, bracing for the moment somebody said something to you. Or you were forced to do it yourself.

"So..." There it comes. Surprisingly it was Shane, of all people. "You and Regina."

"Huh?" You made a sound.

"I mean, you're here together, right? That's what I heard." He scratched at his neck, seeming nervous. All the confidence and obnoxious self-assurance seemed to have melted off of him.

"No, you- what? Where'd you hear that?"

"Just some nasty gossip. Don't worry about it. Aaron and I know what it's like." He smiled supportively but somewhere in the crevices of his cheeks, it seemed sad. "Have you been out for long?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. Shane and Aaron? Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

"Um, pretty much since high school. To be fair, I didn't tell a lot of people back then. You know how Northshore was." He nodded along solemnly. "But in college I sort of bit the bullet."

"That's really brave. Aaron and I haven't been out for long, only since the new law passed." He still seemed cautious and shy, but talking about Aaron clearly made him happy.

"When did you two get together?"

As Shane began to tell the tale, you slowly began to relax. Maybe Regina wouldn't even show up. If you and Gretchen were estranged, Regina and she were even more so. Regina had never given you details, but you did know Gretchen had been heavily involved in your shitty junior year. They'd had an explosive, very public falling-out that'd led to a whole lot of drama.

By that point, you'd sort of checked out of high school as well as your relationship with Regina, so you'd paid very little attention.

"Oh, here she comes," Shane pointed behind you, cutting off his own story. You whirled around, back crackling as you twisted your spine.

Regina George, in the flesh. Your mouth watered, pupils dilated, and there was no way you could've suppressed your reaction. Her eyes were locked on yours, a predatory glint in her eye as she strutted towards your table.

You almost didn't hear Damian's whistle or Janis' stunned laugh, but as Regina shifted the white fur stole she had to reveal her shoulders and chest, you went wholly deaf to all but the clack of her heels.

She had on a baby pink bodycon dress with a slit sinfully high up on her thigh, satin hugging her hips sensually. She had on white high heels with thin straps at the ankle and fur at the tops of her toes.

Her makeup was natural, with subtle browns and blacks, except for the prominent blush she'd picked. Her hair was a warmer blonde than before, complimenting her tanned skin. She had on golden jewellery, a familiar golden necklace resting on the dip of her clavicles like a taunt.

She kept on advancing towards the table. You could do little else but stare, slack-jawed at the visage of her. Other people were staring too, you could tell. You could only imagine what Gretchen was doing with her face at the moment, perhaps scowling like a pug or maybe looking like she was about to cry. Regina was but a guest and yet...

Regina was never just Regina. You knew that better than anyone. No matter how she dressed, behaved, or what her priorities were, she was an innate presence that influenced those around her. Gretchen inviting her to this wedding was essentially like shooting herself in the foot.

Regina didn't have to try to snatch the attention of the room, but when she did, there was no competition. And Regina had gone all out. You could tell by the movements of her hands, the way her lashes fluttered, and how her mouth parted just a little. It was obvious, at least to you, that Regina was doing what she did best: Revenge.

"Hi, baby," She cooed down at you. You took a moment to react, surprised by how she was suddenly there, right in front of you.

Her hands reached for you, long acrylics brushing against your collar, then your neck, then the back of your neck and in your hair. Her thumbs directed your head to tilt up. She pulled you close as she leaned down and then—peach lipgloss, glittery eyeshadow, saccharine perfume—your skin tingled where she touched you, sparks going off behind your eyelids as they fell closed, bliss pouring out of your pores as you became filled with it.

You kissed her back, took hold of her hips and pulled her to stand between your legs. Fuck, this was bad. But, fuck, it felt good to kiss her again.

Distantly, like someone shouting into the water in which you were submerged, you realized that this was perhaps the worst way, place, and time you could've reunited with Regina.

Even so, you kissed deeper, licking into her mouth until she made a sound you'd so missed all these years. Just as you began debating the pros and cons of laying her down on the table right there in the open, Shane tugged hard on your shoulder.

"What?" You grumbled, turning to him with a glare already in place.

He was red-faced, and frazzled, but had on a wide grin. "Get it, girl, but calm down. The mother of the bride looks like she's about to implode." He inclined his head towards the long table where all the important people sat. The mother of the bride did indeed look to be on the precipice of a furious blow-out.

"Okay," You swallowed, sense slowly coming back to you.

"Ugh, you're such a party pooper, Shane." Regina pulled away, leaving your palms achingly empty. She didn't go far though. She sat down on her chair before reaching into her white Valentino bag and pulling out some napkins. Then, she leaned in again.

Your eyes fluttered closed and lips puckered. Regina laughed.

"Silly, you have gloss all over your face."

"Oh," Your eyes opened. Gosh, that was embarrassing.

Regina wiped your mouth. Then, she pulled out a compact mirror and fixed her own lips. You watched her do all this. She and Shane started chatting. Apparently, they'd been in somewhat regular contact.

You'd just kissed Regina George. After, what, eight or nine years? In front of the whole goddamn venue. In front of Gretchen, in front of Gretchen's family, in front of basically your entire year from high school.

You got up. "Oh, where are you going?" Shane asked, all innocent. You hoped you didn't look as panicked as you felt. He didn't seem to think anything was wrong. You glanced at Regina.

Fuck. She totally knew. Obviously, she knew you. She could read you like a book.

"Smoke. Be back in a few." You fled.

"I'm coming too," Janis said.

Notes: Sorry for the long break everybody! I graduated and had a party for that! Went on a little trip to the countryside with friends! And now, at last, I'm back at my desk and ready to churn out some long overdue chapters.

Taglist posted separately! Comment on that post to get on it if you want!

[hallowpen]

Anil remains of the perspective that Pin's "choice" was made with the intention to hurt her instead of protect her. Their status within their own relationship forced very different reactionary measures that Anil fails to understand from her place of privilege. Anil was ready and willing to sacrifice everything in order to be with Pin, while Pin was willing to sacrifice her own happiness to prevent Anil from being disgraced. Anil has been taught by experience that should she want something, she has the power to make it happen. Pin has lived to serve the royal family and to take responsibility for any wrongdoing that may cause them potential harm.

It was lovely to see Lady Uangfah sympathizing with Pin, especially when it's compared to Princess Patt's harsher approach. Uangfah is in the best position to understand wanting something you simply cannot have... and, thus, succumbing to her own marital fate within society.

สไบ (pronounced 'sa-bai') is a shawl breast cloth that is typically worn for any culturally significant traditions... like a wedding ceremony. Often hand-embroidered, Sbai are made from long pieces of silk that can be draped diagonally around the chest by covering one shoulder and hanging behind the wearer's back. The quality (and color) of its silk and threads were determined by one's status in society. Vibrant and more expensive silks were worn by royalty, with embroideries of gold or silver threads.

Reputational hearsay is disallowed in royal society, as both involved parties typically tend to suffer as a result. Making an accusation against a person of rank requires evidentiary support, otherwise it could look like the intentional spreading of a false rumor. As Pin, Patt, and Anan all point out, should they publicly reveal the truth about Kuea without any proof, his denial could endanger the reputation of the Savettavarit name... which is what this whole insisted-upon marriage is supposed to protect in the first place.

The idea of karmic penance is nothing new in this series (or in Thai Buddhist tradition)... and it is something that has been ingrained into Pin from Patt's influence (re: episode 12). Pin, herself, has described her actions as sinful: that she would "force" Anil to step below her revered standing is considered to be 'immoral'. It can be said that Pin sees herself as a stain against Anil's otherwise pure character. In order to repent for her actions, she must make amends... no matter how much suffering she might endure as a result. And while she may not understand it, Anil can only wish that Pin can endure and find some form of happiness in her pursuit of redemption.

There are several key steps involved in a traditional Thai wedding ceremony...

ขันหมาก (pronounced 'khan maak') is a procession where the groom and his relatives march to the bride's home. The parade will often feature drummers and traditional folk dancers in a lively celebration that announces the groom's arrival. Relatives are often seen carrying monetary gifts to be used as part of the bride's dowry and offerings that represent important aspects of the marriage... such as health, prosperity, fertility and longevity.

พิธีกั้นประตู (pronounced 'phi-thi gan pra-tuu') is the symbolic barring of the groom from approaching the bride. The groom must successfully pass through a number of obstacles that are put in the groom’s way by the bride’s family. These symbolic "doors" can only be entered once the groom has proven his worth to the keepers of the "locks". Gold and silver gates are represented by gold or silver belts, which are held by two female members of the bride’s family and friends. The groom's passage through to the next door will only be granted once a "toll" has been negotiated with the keeper of the lock. The entire process is symbolic of the challenges the groom must overcome in order to be worthy of his bride's love and her family's approval. Upon completion, the dowry (สินสอด or 'sin sod') is then formally presented to the bride's family.

พิธีหลั่งน้ำพระ��ุทธมนต์ (pronounced 'phi-thi lang naam phra-phuut-ta-mon') is known as the water pouring ceremony. The water pouring is the most important part of a Thai wedding ceremony as it is when a couple can officially be seen as husband and wife.

Before the water pouring can take place, the couple is seated at a traditional water pouring table known as ตั่งรดน้ำ (pronounced 'dtang rot-naam')... with the bride to the left of the groom. They each receive a ceremonial headdress known as มงคล (pronounced 'mong-khol'). The headdress is made from one continuous piece of cotton that forms a circle around each of the bride's and groom's heads... to signify the joining of the two as a couple. Their foreheads are anointed with three dots of white powder to represent the shape of a pyramid, which is symbolic of enlightenment and harmony.

The รดน้ำสังข์ (pronounced 'roht naam sang') is performed by elders pouring blessed water over the couple's hands using a conch shell. The conch shell holds auspicious value through its connection to the Hindu god Vishnu. A trickle of water is poured from the base of the thumb to the fingertips, over first the groom’s and then the bride's, to symbolize the passing of blessings from one generation to the next.

[darknessdrops]

Our eunuch dreams, all seedless in the light, Of light and love the tempers of the heart, Whack their boys' limbs, And, winding-footed in their shawl and sheet, Groom the dark brides, the widows of the night Fold in their arms.

Dylan Thomas “Eunuch Dreams”

[goldheartedsky]

Ceremonial

Papercut art is one of my favorite forms of traditional Jewish art and there's nothing that comes close to the magic of a papercut Ketubah, so that was what I drew inspiration from for @theartguard's bimonthly theme: Ceremonies and Rituals

I put a LOT of little details in this and their meanings are listed under the cut:

Dandelions: symbolizes strength and resilience. Hard to kill. Very fitting for these two immortals

'I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine': very famous quote from Song of Songs and commonly seen in regards to Jewish weddings

Horseshoes: seen as a lucky symbol in many cultures. When hung upright, the horseshoe is supposed to "catch" good luck.

Books: seen as a collection of knowledge throughout the world and I thought about how much Andy has learned in her centuries (and fitting for Booker's name, obvs)

Poppies: symbolizes peace and death. Also native to Eurasia

Lavender wreath: symbolizes unending devotion. Also native to Provence, France

Pair of Shrikes: commonly known as "butcher birds", shrikes impale their prey on thorns and spikes

Magnolia boutonniere: Magnolia flowers are some of the oldest flowers in the world, dating back to the time of the dinosaurs. Also symbolizes nobility

Tallit: a tallit is a Jewish prayer shawl and many Jewish weddings involve the groom taking the bride under his tallit or wrapping it around her as well

Scythian flower motif: commonly seen in Scythian art and jewelry

Scythian deer: based on a tattoo found on an ancient Scythian woman. The Scythians believed that, though the deer was an earthly animal, it stood apart from the other animals with its symbolic ability to both fly and guide the dead to the underworld

Ginkgo tree: ginkgo trees are able to live for thousands of years and, because of its longevity, have long since been a symbol of hope and resiliance.

[scribblesbyavi]

Dhwani - a beautiful dream.

We met at a friend's wedding and she was from the bride's side while I was from the groom's. Upon introduction, we started talking and it just kind of continued. I realised that she was younger than me but we instantly clicked. She seemed like an introvert as she didn't mingle with the other guests much. She was very friendly and told me that she has heard about me and my friend from her cousin. But it was already night time the first day so we couldn't talk much. So I looked forward to see her the next day.

In the morning, I kind of looked for her but couldn't find her. Then I went on to get some of my stuff from the car and that's when I saw her near the garden with a beautiful maroon shawl and some flowers in her hand, white and red roses. She was coming for the stairs and I approached towards her and suddenly some flowers fell out of her hand. I told her to stop a while and that I'll pick them up. I started picking them while looking at her and our eyes met each other's. It was not the first time that our eyes met because we had already seen each other the night before but this time was something different. I handed her the flowers, all but one petal. The last one, which I picked of a red rose and kept in my front pocket. She smiled and I asked, "What will you do with these flowers?", to which she replied that she would dry them and keep them inside her books. Amazingly, I loved dry flowers too. I thought to myself, "How in the world she loves them too? But it is not impossible right? I mean, who doesn't love flowers? but also dried?"

Then we both left for our rooms to get ready for the wedding.

It was my time to get dressed but some family member had already occupied my washroom and most of the hotel rooms were occupied and so I was asked to use one of the available rooms. I was okay with that as weddings can be such, specially when family members from all parts of the region have come to attend it. And some of them had reached the hotel on that very morning. Then I walked the hallway with some of my clothes and searched for the room. I found the room no. 207 and without thinking much I rang the door bell of the room and a little girl opened it. Her name was Mouni or Munni, as much as I remembered from all the introductions from yesterday. The important thing was that she was Dhwani's little sister. So I expected Dhwani to be nearby. I looked around the room as much as I could before going all the way inside and there she was, Dhwani, all dressed in her traditional attire.

Dhwani was standing in front of the mirror and she was looking absolutely stunning. I didn't say much. I just explained my situation that all the rooms were occupied so I was told to come here. She immediately acknowledged and graciously offered her washroom and sat on the bed. She started searching for something in her black bag. I planned to have a shower and change myself there itself. I came out after a while and asked if I could borrow a comb. She offered one and now we were getting ready together. It was just the two of us in the room now as Mouni has gone to have her breakfast. Dhwani was wearing a cream colored mekhela sador and was doing her touchups and her makeup. I was wearing my black kurta. I wanted to talk to her about something so I asked her about the makeup kit. She explained to me which item is called what and how it works. I heard words like primer, powder and messcara and understood most of it, may be because I wanted to understand. She said that the kit was only for occasions like this and otherwise she uses some kajal and lipstick only. Then she asked if she can do my makeup as well. And I agreed as most of my stuff were in my room which was occupied. So it was a win-win for me. She started with some moisturizer, followed by a cream, but during this very professional makeup process I was just looking at her eyes, and god her eyes, I could look at them all day. She was praising my skin the whole time and I swear that I never thought so highly of my face or my skin. It would be unfair to not add this but at one point I did try to see us together in the big mirror in front of us. And then suddenly some other people came in to the room and after a while her mother as well and to her she said that she was just helping everyone with their makeup and that she tried her hands a bit on me as well.

Then the whole day went by and we saw each other from time to time while the wedding rituals went by. There was people everywhere and everyone was busy with something, so as the both of us. But whenever we saw each other we exchanged smiles and that was a different feeling altogether.

In the afternoon we all went to change as the reception would start in a few hours. I quickly changed and came to the reception hall so that I can see her but she had not yet arrived. I went to the room where the newly married couple was getting ready and I saw that some flowers are not being used by the bride so I asked the hair dresser and also the bride if I could keep one. They both said okay and my friend gave me the task to create a playlist to play during the reception. I agreed and left after clicking a few pictures with them. But soon realised that I was not that great with party music. I sat near the music system and tried to create a playlist but all the songs I was coming up were the same old generic wedding songs that everyone plays in the weddings, whereas, I wanted to create something special for my friend. I went to the balcony for some inspiration and that is when Dhwani came to my rescue. It was as if she came there in search of me. She came and stood near me and I told her about the playlist. I don't know how but she was way comfortable with me. We both sat in the balcony and she instantly started working on the playlist. Now we were a team and both of us started picking songs one by one. I didn't quite knew some of the songs she had suggested, so she sang bits and parts of the song so that I could recognize them and after a while we were ready with a solid playlist with a perfect combination of party music and wedding songs. And that is when she asked me if I would like to go out with her for a walk as it was getting a bit hot inside the wedding hall and also that there is still some time for the couple to arrive at the reception.

So we took the back door and climbed down the stairs from the second floor to the ground. I was wearing a kurta and she was wearing a saree, both all dressed up, now walking the streets in the evening. This is when we passed by a grocery store upon which she said, "What if we went in like this all dressed up?" I laughed and asked her if she would like to go grocery shopping with me. To which she agreed playfully. In my head I could think of a kickass reply but only after a while, "but the kids are waiting for us at home, no?"

After walking for a while I made the gesture of throwing a cricket ball to which she asked what I did and I said, "nothing". That puzzled her a bit. Then I put my hand inside my pocket and found the flower that I kept from the bride's hair makeup. I gave the beautiful white flower to her and she took it with a smile. She asked what flower it is, to which I replied, "chrysanthemum". She nodded to that. Then I said that she could add this one to her collection of dry flowers. She nodded once again.

We kept walking and it was almost dark by then and so we decided to return. Then I thought to myself that we barely even talked. I wished that the walk could go on a little longer and that I could talk a bit more with her. That is when I saw an ice cream wala. I told her that we can have some ice cream and then we can go back. She agreed. Then we went to have ice cream. I had to get my chocolate ice cream and she took strawberry. This is when we waited a while to enjoy the ice cream and we talked about the wedding. While talking about both the families and their relations she mentioned that she is actually a bit of an introvert and that she can't approach anyone directly. Then I asked her how she was able to talk to me, to which she replied that she was introduced to me by her sister and that is when we started talking from the first day and so it kind of continued. May be we both knew each other from somewhere? I don't know.

I then told her about having a bit of self confidence in us because some things have to be said by us because no one else can think exactly like us so we have to be able to express them in our own way to the world. She then mentioned that she creates art and writes poems and that she also sings and plays the guitar. I was amazed and told her to play something for me as well someday. I also told her that I tried my hand on the ukulele but failed miserably. Then she said that may be I didn't try hard enough with proper focus and so I should give it one more try. Then we returned to the venue and decided to take the lift.

While walking towards the lift we talked about our favourite books and authors and she recommended me some of her favorites. I also read one of my favourite urdu poems to her in the lift and trust me when I say this that I don't usually do such things. And when the lift reached our floor and the door opened, it was playing our playlist in the reception hall. I said, "our background music" to which she smiled and then her phone rang. She told me to come after a while so that no one would know that we were together. She walked in to the hall and after a few minutes I went in. There were guests everywhere, guests taking photos with the newly wedded couple, everyone dancing and celebrating but we could still find each other in the crowd and smile at each other.

After a while we planned to have dinner so she went with her family and I went with mine. After dinner I couldn't find her. I thought she might be clicking pictures somewhere. So I went to meet my friends, some of them just came from downstairs. One friend of mine randomly talked about some family members already leaving. I didn't think it was her. But soon realised that she had left with her family without saying a word, without a good bye.

avis

(i don't usually do long form content here but let's see if my people likes it. thank you for supporting and loving my work so far. it means the world to me.)

[heilith]

Sage Blossoms

Another something for Scribbles and Drabbles 2023, for this stunning piece of art (clicky) by @clumsycopy. This one suddenly grew into a longfic, so yeah...it's just the beginning. Buckle up, have a pleasant ride.

@fall-for-tolkien

Sage Blossoms, Part 1

Miserable and soaking wet.

Half-dressed. And sorely regretful no one was there to hear the cheerful rhythm your teeth were making in vain attempts to meet.

You could do with a laugh.

Or with an embrace.  

The drawbar had always been too heavy for you. You’d never been able to budge it on your own, not with your ludicrous bony hands.

The horses behind the thick oaken door were still raging. You prayed it was not a rat this time. That last incident with a parton’s horse cost the inn twice your yearly wage. You hadn’t had a new piece of cloth on you since.  

The rainwater was meandering down your face, sprouting new and new rivulets. The skin it touched was quickly turning numb.

The smell came first… A strange blend of dead embers and no longer living flesh. For an instant it seemed to you it was oozing from between the doors to the stables.

The thought of fire was far scarier than the thought of rats.

A horse inside let out a high-pitched shriek, making your hair stand on end.

You shrank back and choked on a short outcry at finding yourself locked between a pair of arms, reaching for the drawbar.  

The presence you’d collided with let out a sound, too, a something you could hear coming out of a mouth curled up in self-ridicule.

Strange as it was, it calmed you down.

A dozen years of serving lord and vagabonds had taught you to know a danger at the first syllable it sent in your direction.

The look you ventured at the man did nothing but add to your surmise. If anything, it was his slouching countenance that reassured you completely. That, and his eyes, the best feature on an otherwise unhandsome face.

He was holding your gaze silently, perhaps, waiting for you to be the first to say something.

It was hard to look away, no matter how troublesome a feeling the expression in his eyes was giving you. He knew exactly how much he had scared you, and what measure you had measured him with, and how by now you had no doubts that unsettling smell was coming off him, after all. And he was jeering at you, you could tell it for sure, in a way a wiseman could jeer at a baby trying to read its first word.

“Why you?” said he at last.

His voice had the same ashy quality to it as his whole self, as if his throat was burnt.  

“The grooms won’t return till the morning.”

The question brought you to the reality where your nightgown and the poor excuse of a shawl were still dripping with cold water and the horses were still going insane, shut in four walls with something that had scared them to death.

“I’m sorry, I have to…”

He didn’t let you finish.

The drawbar came out of the slots without a spare hitch. You couldn’t expect him to dispose of it with enough care, but he did, leaning the thing against the jamb in a weirdly habitual manner.

The dark mouth of the doorframe had swallowed him before you could utter a word of protest.

The beasts screamed so loud you jumped back faintheartedly, giving up the intention of following him.  

A century had passed in feverish struggle with yourself. You had to be there, and you had no courage to step over the threshold.

Your senses were strained to the limit that didn’t seem possible.

To your relief, little by little the clamour started dying down. The horses were falling silent one after another. First there were four of them, then two, then the last one sobbed quietly and all you could hear was a monotonous raspy whisper. Eventually it trailed off, too, leaving the rain the only thing to beget any sound at all.

There was a fresh cut on his cheek, when he stepped out into the yard again. In the scant moonlight the streaks of blood looked almost black to you.   

“Go back to bed, child,” dropped he without any feeling, “You do not wish to die in sickness.”

His breath was coming out weary, too weary for you not to put down your guard once more. With the sense you could find no name for you felt that whatever he had done had cost him more than it was worth.  And you deemed yourself guilty for that.

It was a silly move.

An obvious mistake.

The way his whole body convulsed at the touch of your shawl against his cheek made that clearer than daylight. In that brief moment your eyes met his again, there was such fury in them it made you nauseous.  

But you went on with it till you wiped away all the traces of blood and dirt and could be sure the wound was clean at least by the look.   

“Take care of it, please,” you said firmly.

The stables remained unlocked.

But you didn’t even think of it, as you turned away to leave.

[dufferpuffer]

Order member ages

Just wanted to post this as its own thing for future reference. People often say Dumbledore recruits directly from Hogwarts, but it never seemed to line up with how old most of the members were...? So - I looked up who all the known members are! :)

First War:

Order was founded 1970 at the earliest - dissolved 1981. Earliest birthday possible: 1953, graduating 1970

S. Black, class of 78. R. Lupin, class of 78. P. Pettigrew, class of 78. J.+ L. Potter, class of 78. S. Snape, class of 78 E. Bones - Murdered w. wife + kids. Brother of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones. M. Fletcher - already well integrated in Wizarding crime world. A.+ F. Longbottom - They would have been OLDER than the Potters as they were 'Prominent Aurors' and Auror training takes years to complete. A. Moody - Legendary Auror. Retired after this war. S. Podmore - Born 1956/1957, apparently…? G.+ F. Prewitt - Molly Weasley's brothers. E. Doge - Albus' schoolmate. Ab. Dumbledore - His brother. A. Figg - old Squib. R. Hagrid - He was 51 when Harry was born Unknown age estimate: C. Dearborn - Missing. D. Diggle. B. Fenwick - 'bits of him' were discovered. D. Meadowes - Personally killed by Voldemort, might mean he is a skilled adult. M. McKinnon - Killed 'with her whole family' E. Vance - 'stately looking with a green shawl' in the the 90s.

Note with the Longbottoms: They were 'Prominent Aurors' - which means they worked for the Ministry for some time. If they were born 1953, and thus graduated 1970 - they would only be 27 when Neville was born... giving them a little time to have built their careers while still being a younger couple. But was the Order formed right at the crack of the war...?

Second War:

F. Delacour - 95/96 at Gringotts, joined the order through Bill. H. Jones - Unknown age. Never mentioned to be at Hogwarts while Harry is there. N. Tonks - Adult, well into Auror training. C + B Weasley - Adult, well into their own careers. A + M Weasley - Born 1949/1950. M. McGonagall - I mean I suppose she was recruited from Hogwarts hey haha K. Shacklebolt - An Auror; my man became Minister of Magic F + G Weasley - 'Graduated' 95/96 - opened store H. Granger; R. Weasley - First mission seems to be when 17 H. Potter - Did some things with Albus at 16...? Unclear.

If I am missing anyone please add B^)

- Harry was doomed to face Voldemort anyway. Does he really count as an Order member...? He's more the reason the order exists. - Ron and Hermione are there in support of Harry - and only do things for the Order after Albus' death, when they are 17 and don't have much choice, they are hunted. Is it really 'joining the Order' when the order barely exists anymore...? - Fred and George... did they do any Order things before Albus' death...? Were they just running their shop, with their Mum breathing down their backs to not get involved? Unclear.

Notes to do with the second Order: Molly is against the children participating. Sirius, Lupin, probably some others but I can't remember are in support of it.

Albus Dumbledore was also against the children participating - especially in 95/96, where his whole deal was trying to keep them at school, safe - even though they weren't learning jack shit. It takes Harry having a meltdown, Sirius dying - and Dumbledore being cursed - for him to go "Fuck it... Harry, you should help. I gotta teach you before I die."

Observations about both Orders:

They both have a large group that come from one source. In the First War it was the Marauders, in the second the Weasleys.

They also share an 'Auror talent' that seem more affiliated with Moody than they do Albus: Tonks and the Longbottoms.

It makes sense that when one person joins others are likely to follow. The Weasley parents -> the Weasley kids -> Fleur. James, Sirius -> Peter, Remus, Lily -> Severus.

That's not really recruitment from school.

If I personally were to use the school to groom/recruit children to fight for me in a war: I would be trying to get the best from every year. I would be heavily encouraging kids from all year levels that show promise to take certain classes and learn certain spells... Then, I would assess them when they graduate: '71, '72, '73, '74, '75, '76, '77, '78 was a big year. '79, '80... A constant trickle. A couple of new people this year, one the next - and they are all likely to bring at least a friend along, too - right...?

Yet we don't really see that happen. It's just that one bumper crop from 78, that one friend group. Were there NO talented graduates in any other year...? Was ONLY Griffindor considered...?

There isn't exactly a 'skill requirement' to join the Order. You had people there just to source information. Remus did werewolf jobs. Peter Pete'd all over the place. There were min. 2 pregnancies...

They were losing people - if they needed quantity over quality, if they only really needed base loyalty and a good heart... why NOT recruit more students? And yet there's just one blip in 78.

That doesn't particularly scream 'groomed child soldiers' to me. BUT - there are 6 people from the first Order whose ages can't be estimated. Are they the missing child soldiers from the years before/after the Marauders? Dunno.

[thedeerman]

RadioApple Week Day 5: Domestic

I honestly wasn't sure what to choose for this one, but I just love this scene too much. I think it fits.

An excerpt from DYWTK Ch37: Reach

Understanding, the king turned, pulling his wings in enough to not hit Alastor in the face with them, and said, “Don’t go judging me for how messy the feathers are though, you’ve already got me all self conscious now.”

The radio demon stepped closer, once again running his hand over one of the huge wings. Lucifer seemed to shiver a bit at the contact, making Alastor wonder just how sensitive they were. Perhaps that’s why they’re always hidden away, he thought.

Gently, Alastor began tugging loose feathers from the base of Lucifer’s wings and dropping them on the ground. The king tried to turn around, probably to ask what the demon was doing, but Alastor didn’t let him. “Stay still or this is going to take me all night,” he demanded.

“Are you… Preening me?” Lucifer asked with a laugh. “You don’t plan on keeping every feather though, right…?”

The demon only rolled his eyes. His shadow picked up a few of the feathers on the ground and smiled at them. They then disappeared into the shadow as if they were never there. That fucking thing does have pockets… Alastor thought to himself. 

“No, your majesty, I will not be collecting every last bit of you to add to some collection. However, I won’t be making any promises for Niffty.” The king shuddered a bit at that. What a strange being. The most powerful soul in Hell and yet it’s simple little Niffty that shakes him. 

The pile of giant feathers was getting larger, and there were still so many left to remove. Every time one fell out, it seemed like ten more were in its place. Eventually Alastor said, “Sit.” The king did as he was told without question, making the radio demon smile wide. The great Lucifer, sitting on command like a dog. Only for Alastor, hopefully. 

Once the angel was seated cross-legged in the grass, Alastor knelt down only a foot or so behind him. The massive wings were now draped over the king’s shoulder’s like a shawl, giving the demon much better access to the bunches of feathers underneath the top layer. He put on a little bit of music, and the two sat and listened in silence as the radio demon tidied up his fallen angel.

They sat like that for what had to have been at least an hour, Alastor gently removing old feathers and dropping them in his lap while listening to classical music. By the time the task seemed to be done, he was absolutely covered in the things. It was as if the radio demon had destroyed a bunch of giant, feather stuffed pillows and sat himself in the pile that resulted.

Admiring his work, Alastor broke the silence. “Darling, I believe you may have had enough loose feathers to bury someone with. Let’s not let these magnificent wings of yours be neglected any longer, hm?”

Lucifer looked over his shoulder with wide eyes, just now seeing the absolutely ridiculous amount of angel feathers covering Alastor like a blanket. After the moment of shock, he spun around to face the radio demon and laughed. Now kneeling in front of him, the king said, “Aww man, Al, you’re covered in… Me!” He was laughing even harder now, plucking bits of stray feather fluff from Alastor’s hair and clothes, not that it mattered much. He was literally sitting in a pile of them.

After his laughter had ceased, the king just stared at Alastor with a smile. “Seriously though, thank you. My wings haven’t felt this good in… Well, longer than you’ve existed.”

The radio demon responded, “Well now, we can’t allow that. My king should be properly groomed at all times. I suppose that means I’ll be forced to preen you more often, what a bother.” 

Of course, it wasn’t really any inconvenience. It was a rather enjoyable experience, actually. Sitting, listening to music, staring at the most brilliant blood red and pure white feathers, brushing his fingers through what must have been the softest texture in existence. And, best of all, Lucifer couldn’t leave even if he tried. He was forced to sit still in front of Alastor, listening to music and feeling the radio demon’s clawed fingers caress his wings. The entire scene had been absolutely ethereal.

Lucifer pulled the demon from his thoughts by leaning forward. Now only inches from Alastor’s face, he said, “Oh yes, what a bother. I was definitely getting the sense that you were annoyed at the whole process. Don’t worry, I suppose I won’t really need to ask for another fifty years or so…” He caught on to that one pretty damn quick.

Before Alastor could respond to the king’s sarcastic remarks, the angel closed the gap between them and kissed him. It was so reminiscent of the first time he’d done so, it was almost eerie. It was perfect. The way Lucifer was acting now, the radio demon was quite sure his miserable few days were at an end. Vees be damned, Alastor absolutely was not going to share the attention of his little king.

When Lucifer pulled away from him, he had another sly smile and said, “You wanna go play some music?” Whoever said that Hell was nothing but eternal suffering clearly had never met the man in charge. He might cause a little suffering here and there, but overall, Alastor's darling king was simply a delight. Such an odd being. So powerful, yet so weak. So vicious, yet so kind. The King of Hell, the most brilliant of the archangels. And he belongs to me.  

Alastor smiled wide and brushed a few strands of hair from Lucifer’s face. “Absolutely, dear. I’d love nothing more.” 

[brainwormsdepository]

To Take Up the Shawl (3/3)

Pairing: Liandrin Guirale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Witch burnings

Notes: I struggled with this one, not going to lie. If there is anything you think I can improve, please let me know.

It had been nearly two moons since Liandrin’s band of Reds had left the White Tower. Days and weeks on end of hard riding along dusty roads. The muscles in your back pulled taut and your joints ached with stiffness. But it wasn’t until the sun hung low on the horizon that the group moved into the trees to find a place to camp.

You were thankful to have your feet on the ground again, even if your legs were wobbling. Responsibilities were rotated rather than assigned everyday. That evening you, along with two others, were expected to help set up the large tent that housed all the sisters. As you worked, you could see Liandrin walking the edges of the site, warding. When you left Tar Valon, you left with a hope that things would be mended between you both in a day or two. But every time you so much as spoke, one of you started an argument. It would be one thing if you could absolve yourself of guilt but you were just as petty, just as angry, and just as hurt.

As it stood, Liandrin only ever engaged with you to bark orders or deliver reprimands. So when she came to you by the horses later that night, with arms behind her back, you knew it wasn’t for idle chat.

“Re-hobble the horses. We don’t need to lose a mount to sloppy work.” She said sternly, eyes scanning low at the fetlocks of the horses.

“Re-hobb— that wasn’t even my responsibility today. I helped with the tent.”

“I didn’t ask who hobbled them. I told you to do it again.”

“At your order, Liandrin Sedai. Shall I clean your boots as well?” You sneered.

“The Mistress of Novices should have punished you more for your insolence.”

“Sheriam Sedai knew better—the switch wasn’t exactly a deterrent,” you goaded with a smirk. Apparently that statement alone was enough to throw Liandrin off balance. Her mouth remained open as she floundered for a moment. It was clear she was unsure whether or not she had understood you correctly. “A silent Liandrin Sedai? What does that earn me?”

In response, Liandrin snapped her jaw shut and grabbed her bedroll from the horse in a huff. “You take third watch,” she answered smoothly.

ᕦ ˚✧˳ ˳✧˚ ˚✧˳ ° ˳✧˚ ˚✧˳ ˳✧˚ ᕤ

Third watch was the worst.

There was nothing you could do to busy yourself. Reading a book would put you to sleep. Grooming your mare would keep her from resting. It was just you and the dwindling campfire, and the crickets you supposed. Somewhere in the distance, a fox whined with a long, drawn out cry. A gust of wind came in from the West and you noticed a tinge of smoke in the air.

“Another camp?” Then you realized what you heard wasn’t a fox, it was screaming. A woman. You jumped to your feet and looked around in the darkness for smoke billowing in the distance. It was further in the mountains, farther away than the screams would have you believe. Sound carried strangely near the valley. You hurried into the tent, your sisters still lost to dreams. Tucked away, as close to the back as possible, was Liandrin. Carefully, you shuffled over to her and with a gentle shaking of her shoulder, you roused her from her sleep.

Liandrin, ever vigilant, woke easily and quickly. “What is it?” she asked, immediately looking around to count the women around her. Then she heard it too: the faint ghostly cries of agony. “Who?”

“I don’t know, but Liandrin… there’s a fire too.”

You raced through the night up into the mountains. Hooves pounded against dirt and low hanging branches swept by your face. The road had to be abandoned if you were going to beat the sun, but the screaming had stopped hours ago. Worse, the closer you got to the lingering smoke, the stronger the scent of burning wood and meat became.

By the time you reached the scene, it was clear you were too late. Mere vestiges of an encampment were left. Pits of dwindling embers were scattered about, along with a handful of wooden stakes buried in the ground, some even with crudely cut rope still attached. Beyond it all, at the far edge of the site, was what you had rushed over for. Attached to a thin, but sturdy log and surrounded by ashes of kindling, was what remained of a woman. Whoever she was, her face was too charred to be recognizable, though her clothes seemed Shienaran in cut. Over her shoulders was draped a blackened and seared but noticeably gray fringed shawl. An Aes Sedai of the Gray Ajah. If she had a Warder, he was either dead or a prisoner.

“Light burn them.” Liandrin stood beside you, watching your face. “Light burn them all.” She knew that fire. She remembered the first time she felt it herself. It was an anger she understood—an anger that turned her stomach. If the bile were to rise up and out of her throat, it would leave not as sick but as a white-hot blaze. Liandrin clenched her fists at her side, imprinting the scales of her Great Serpent ring into her skin. Her sister no longer even had one to return to the flame. How could she, when there wasn’t a hand to wear it?

“Light protect its ‘Children’,” Liandrin spat the name with clear disdain, “because I will show them no mercy if our paths cross.”

“We should bury her. She was denied much, rest and dignity should not be among them.”

Liandrin nodded her head in agreement. Together, the six of you got to work. Silence filled the air between everyone, but it was thick with anger and heavy with mourning. For all the squabbling over power between the Ajahs, no sister wanted to see another die, especially at the hands of the Whitecloaks. Without knowing what she would have preferred, it was decided that she would be buried as Shienaran tradition dictated. She laid in the ground without shroud or clothes, held only by earth.

“May you shelter in the palm of the Creator's hand, and may the last embrace of the mother welcome you home.” Llana Sedai said the last rites, a Borderlander herself and familiar with Shienaran ways.

The sun was high in the sky by the time everyone readied to leave, tired and solemn. “Are we still heading to Far Madding?” you asked as you mounted your dapple gray mare.

“With Whitecloaks near? No, best to pass the city altogether and ride through the day,” Liandrin replied.

“We can’t channel in Far Madding—can’t even sense the True Source. Whitecloaks will take advantage of that, peace bonding of weapons or no,” another, Janine Sedai, clarified. The image of a hot, steaming bath that you had been carrying for the last few days began to fade away with the late morning fog.

“There is a village beyond it, however,” Liandrin began, “where we can rest.” There was an instant easing of tension from everyone, the tentative hope of a proper bed and hot bath returning. “Come. We’ve lost enough time.”

ᕦ ˚✧˳ ˳✧˚ ˚✧˳ ° ˳✧˚ ˚✧˳ ˳✧˚ ᕤ

The village was a quaint one, but familiar enough with Aes Sedai that no one immediately scurried off into their homes at your arrival. They did openly stare though. All the buildings were made of gray stone and sported thatched roofs in a burnished red. Windows glowed yellow with lantern light, a warm and welcome contrast to the deep blue of the evening sky, and at the center of it all was a decently sized inn called The Seven Leaves. At your approach, a young man in worn, brown trousers and a maroon vest, came to stable the horses overnight. He stuttered out something about it being his honor as he took the reins of each horse with the help of a boy no more than 14 years of age. As nervous as they acted, eyes avoiding direct contact, you could tell from their builds that both boys worked hard from an early age. With as much subtly you could manage, you pressed a silver Tar Valon mark into each of their palms. The shock had their eyes wide as saucers and their jaws hanging loosely from the rest of their head. You rejoined your sisters at the door with a smile, but when you looked back over your shoulder you saw them both stumbling and whispering conspiratorially together, faces split with wide grins.

Inside, a small crowd had gathered to listen to a traveling gleeman. In his hand was a harp and he plucked its strings as he told the story of ‘Mara and the Three Foolish Kings.’ At the right sat most of the women, chuckling at the expense of the kings. Between their laughs, they’d lean over and glance knowingly to their left at the men fumbling drunkenly over their tankards of ale. You could almost hear Liandrin’s eyes rolling back into her head. As you walked further into the inn, attention was taken away from the gleeman and instead given to the approaching Aes Sedai. Not wasting any time, Llana went to the innkeeper, who bowed deeply at her, and inquired about rooms. You watched as she pulled from her belt a leather pouch—the clammer of coins evident even from a distance.

Noticing your distraction, Janine tugged at your sleeve and guided you to sit with the others at a long table against the far right wall. Looking around you realized Liandrin wasn’t there. Before you could question her absence, a plump, graying women with a friendly smile arrived at the table. She bowed politely. “Aes Sedai at our inn. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s always an honor when it does. Can I get you any food and drink, Aes Sedai? We have a hunter’s pot on the fire.” You let your sisters do the talking. You weren’t going to complain about any meal placed in front of you. It beat having another supper of bread and cheese. A day more and you might have considered eating the horse feed if only for some variety.

It wasn’t until two serving girls were placing bowls of stew on the table that you caught a flash of red and gold from the corner of your eye. You turned your head and there was Liandrin, slipping into the inn’s main room from a side door. Where had she gone? Liandrin sat beside you at the table. “Looks like we get to stay awhile. Our quarry was seen heading this way.”

“Madness has him. No male channeler in their right mind would come within leagues of Far Madding.” Llana said, sliding beside Liandrin.

“The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.” Liandrin smirked confidently.

ᕦ ˚✧˳ ˳✧˚ ˚✧˳ ° ˳✧˚ ˚✧˳ ˳✧˚ ᕤ

“The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.” You mocked Liandrin’s earlier words under your breath. Llana had secured three rooms and with six of you, two sisters would have to board together in each. Somehow it was decided you would bunk with Liandrin for the night. Whether it was the Wheel, the Light, or the Creator—something out there had a sense of humor. Sure, you had spoken without arguing that day, but it wasn’t as if you made up either. Spending the night alone with one another was bound to invite conflict.

You looked over your shoulder at Liandrin. She was sitting on her bed and taking out her braids. Her fingers, long and elegant, worked deftly. She had already stripped herself of her red woolen dress in favor of a light, almost gossamer sleeping gown. It was markedly Taraboner, surprisingly low cut and clinging to her form. The shift was a deep burgundy and the hem shined with delicate, golden embroidery. It was hard to make out in the low light, but it looked vaguely like winding tree branches full with leaves or maybe flowers. The light of the lantern flickered, catching hints of what looked like green or dark blue thr—

“You’re staring again.” Again?

“My apologies, Liandrin Sedai,” you said instead and looked away. You focused intently on your own bag, folding and tucking your riding clothes away.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“The first time I saw a sister like that… it followed me for days.”

“Oh.” You thought back to the scene. You could still smell it, the scent of burnt flesh. At dinner, you found yourself picking around the meat, unable to stomach it. “I imagine much will be the same for me.”

“It’s envy.” Liandrin said suddenly. “The Children of the Light hate the idea of women having power. It scares them. So they punish us.”

“They’re cowards.” You said with finality, standing up and leaving your bag. “They deserve to know what real fear is.” You met Liandrin’s eyes and the two of you connected. You understood each other. The desire for revenge that most Aes Sedai would look down upon burned within you both. Light preserve us. We share a darkness. You sat on the bed with a sigh. “I’m sorry,” you said after a moment. Liandrin said nothing, listening. “For offending you. I don’t know what I did, but it ruined everything.” The room stayed silent after that. You heard the rustling of Liandrin moving around, but you dared not look up. If you looked at her there would be no stopping the onslaught of tears that would follow. Your chin wobbled, and you swallowed hard. Light, I will not cry in front of her a second time.

“That’s because you didn’t.” Liandrin’s voice came from beside you. You startled and looked up at her. She was staring at the wall ahead—eyes trained on a singular spot. Maybe that made what she was saying easier. Whatever the reason, you were thankful. She wouldn’t be able to see the redness of your eyes. “Cowardice isn’t the sole province of the Whitecloaks, unfortunately.”

“That goes for everyone.” Your voice quavered, but you tried to hide it behind a weak, breathy laugh. “I pushed too much too soon, didn’t I?”

“I don’t understand you. You always try to…” Liandrin’s voice trailed off and she mulled over her thoughts.

Coward. You gripped your knees tightly, needing to ground your thoughts. If Liandrin was to resume talking, you wouldn’t even know it. Your ears roared with the sound of your own blood, heart pumping as vigorously as if you were a hare being hunted by a wolf. Vaguely, your own voice urged you to do something, anything. Make her understand.

In an instant, the strained bands that were your muscles snapped and you twisted your body toward Liandrin. Your hands cupped around her cheek and before she could react, you turned her head and met her lips with your own. The kiss tasted of salt; whether the tears were hers or your own, you could not tell. Fingers tangled in the hair near the nape of your neck while a thumb pressed beneath your chin and a forefinger anchored against the angle of your jaw. She was reciprocating. She was touching you, kissing you. Teeth bit into your lip and you hissed into Liandrin’s mouth. Simultaneously, both of her hands took command, one pushing up and the other pulling down, but both working together to force your face skyward.

“You still don’t know how to submit to your superiors.” Her voice was tight. “The arrogance.” Your head felt as if it was stuffed full of wool and yet still, a warning pricked at the base of your skull. Liandrin was lost in a sea of uncertainty and searching desperately for harbor and what better foothold than control. In the storms of her emotions, she saw only driftwood when she gripped and sucked the skin at your neck. She didn’t yet know that if she would only extend her hand a little further, she’d find herself at a dock. But maybe, when the waves and wind cleared, she would see the shape of you and know she was safe. You would weather the pounding of the sea as you were made to do. Light knew the Pattern put you in her path for a reason and you were helpless to resist it.

You couldn’t yet tell her that you loved her. She was too vulnerable, aggression cloaking fear, but oaths of devotion? Aes Sedai knew their importance well.

“Then teach me to be better. I’ll obey you, Liandrin Sedai, this I swear.” Both your hands had moved down to her waist, clinging to the fabric of her shift.

“Only me?”

“Only you.” You promised.

There was no Oath Rod in the room, but somehow, Liandrin’s fingers were as good as one. In that moment, her very breath was stronger than the One Power and you knew it had been in every turn of the Wheel that came before.

“Only you.”

ᕦ ˚✧˳ ˳✧˚ ˚✧˳ ° ˳✧˚ ˚✧˳ ˳✧˚ ᕤ

Catching the false dragon was surprisingly easy. Liandrin had everyone split up and wait for his approach. When he came, you moved like working dogs herding a stubborn sheep into a pen. Once he was a mile out from Far Madding, it was too late. Unable to sense the True Source or reach out and wield Saidin, the man was left open to your half of the One Power.

What surprised you was that Liandrin did not shield him to take back to Tar Valon. Around you, your sisters linked with Liandrin and urged you to do the same. You felt your power being used to gentle him. His fear became anguish and your heart sank. To be severed from the True Source was a death sentence.

Liandrin found your eyes amongst the others and smiled proudly. Her hand, clenched tightly at her side, shadowed the red stone of her Great Serpent ring. Never before had it looked so dark.

Only her.

[lightlyknitted]

Surprise, surprise I finally wrote up the pattern for the groom's edition of the On the Fly shawl. (This may be a week from the last on for you but it's been months for me.)

See the shawl on Raverly here

[lenfantdeverone]

Say YES to the tuxedo!

Gordon stood awkwardly on top of the platform, slightly turning around in front of the full length mirror. His eyes were fixed on the little details of the light blue tuxedo he was trying on, carefully studying every inch of his body like he had never dared before. He couldn’t pin point exactly what was wrong with this particular suit, from the color choice to the weird way it fell flat on his unusually broad shoulders. Gordon held his breathe, a hand on his chest as he breathed in, analyzing how the fabric acted upon the sudden movement. For as ignorant as he was in terms of clothing, it was still pretty evident to him that the tuxedo didn’t fit him properly.

“It makes me look short.” Gordon concluded after a while of meticulously inspecting and judging, sighing heavily as he desperately turned around to seek the opinions of his brothers (who were his future groomsmen as well).

“You are.” Alan chuckled; his eyes still fixed on the wide shawl lapel imposing on his big brother’s chest. “You look like a discolored penguin.”

“Shut up, look who’s talking!” buried inside an ill-fitting tuxedo, Gordon appeared much less intimidating as usual as he hissed at his baby brother.

“Calm down you two, this is not the time and place.” Scott admonished his baby brothers, a hand distantly raised inquisitorially. He still had his eyes proudly glued unto his baby brother, awkwardly rocking an unusually formal garment which enhanced all the secret qualities that Gordon never really showed off. “It looks good to me… weird, but it looks good!” Scott admitted, but Gordon didn’t perceive the intended warmth in his eldest brother’s reaction. For once, he wanted to be more than just good.

“Maybe a satin lapel is a bit too much.” John appointed, taking pictured from various angles so he could zoom onto the details a little better. “Considering that we’re going for an… unusual color, maybe a less shiny fabric would be better.”

“The double-breasted tuxedo isn’t a good option either.” Virgil tilted his head a bit, his gentle gaze scanning his baby brother from head to toe. Gordon blindly trusted Virgil’s wise judgment, as his big flannel-lover sibling had without the shadow of a doubt the most knowledge of the family when it came to fashion. “You look constricted, as if you are trapped in a cage.”

“I’m going to look like an idiot, am I?” Gordon bit his lip, too defeated to even spare another glance at the mirror. It was the third tuxedo he had tried on, and he had felt terribly stupid in all of them. Maybe he was just meant to make everything look bad on his beaten body.

“No, you’re not.” Virgil firmly assured him. “We just need to find something that suits you. We should try more comfortable single-breast tuxedo next, maybe one with a grosgrain lapel instead of satin, what do you think?”

Gordon hesitated, not really brave enough to put together the picture that Virgil was trying to describe. He was just so tired and defeated. “Maybe I should also stick with black… this color is just… stupid.” The groom-to-be suggested, shrugging that familiar nauseating feeling off.

“But black is boooooring!” Alan rolled his eyes, sinking into the luxurious sofa where the groom’s entourage was assisting the appointment. The littlest Tracy wasn’t really a fan of formal attire, and he had made fun of all the previous options Gordon had tried on. For as innocent as his usually pungent comments were, though, he hadn’t really helped that uneasy feeling slowly devouring Gordon alive. “It’s a beach wedding, bro, I’d rather have you look like a lost merman than look depressed.”

“If I try on anymore of those ugly suits, I’ll be depressed for good.” Gordon dared one last, defeated look into the mirror, suppressing the urge to tear the suit apart and leave the store as naked and humiliated as he felt in that moment. “Virg, please help me out.” He pleaded, voice slightly cracking, exposing how vulnerable and helpless he actually felt in the situation.

“Gotcha.” Virgil simply smiled in return, a gentle hand firmly on his baby brother’s back as he gently guided him towards the changing room.

***

With tears slowly forming in his eyes, Gordon patiently waited for Virgil to bring him some new options to try on. He felt miserable, pathetic. The man who had survived the worst hydrofoil incident in the history of mankind was sitting on the floor of a fancy boutique changing room, crying his heart out and wearing only his boxers. Never in his life, not even at his lowest, had he imagined that he would end up in such a mediocre situation. It was moments like that that made him realize just how much he despised himself. He had managed to defeat all odds and re-learn how to walk when every single doctor who had visited him had deemed it impossible, yet he was unable to enjoy what was supposed to be a happy shopping day with his family. And for his upcoming wedding nonetheless! Gordon breathed in; hands buried in his hair.

Why couldn’t he just be normal about life and be happy for once? Why did it always had to end up like that, with him crying silently in a corner where no one could see? Why was he always messing things up?

“Here, try this one on.” Virgil rested a hand on baby brother’s shoulder, carefully bringing his baby brother’s back to reality. Gordon stared at him for a bit, eyes puffy and red, and his mouth agape craving for air. Virgil bit his lips, trying to keep his facial expression calm and gentle. He really couldn’t afford scaring his brother even further, especially when that doomed shopping day could still be saved. “I really think this is the one. I promise.”

Gordon gulped, his own saliva tasting sour and salty. He tended to trust Virgil’s promises, and he knew his big brother only wanted the best for him. He was tired. He felt like a nuisance. Yet he couldn’t let his family down, not when everyone had managed to take a day off just to be in that stupid boutique with him to pick the less ugly dress for him. Hesitantly, Gordon looked up to see yet another light blue tuxedo hanging before him.

“I said I wanted black.” Gordon’s voice was sore and raw.

“Black doesn’t suit your personality, bro.” Virgil smiled at him. “You’re a force of nature, you’re bubbly and dynamic, just like the ocean.” The elder gently ruffed his baby brother’s blond hair. “Could you try it on just for me? Please? You don’t have to show the others, if you really don’t like it I can go pick a black tux if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

The light blue tuxedo impended over him menacingly, yet Gordon solemnly considered the idea. He really didn’t want to upset Virgil, especially after his big brother had turned the store inside out to find that one tuxedo just for him. After thinking about it for a moment, Gordon finally decided to lift himself up, pull the curtain, and try the suit on.

“Penny would love to see you in blue.” Virgil commented distantly from the other side of the curtain, trying to be as supportive as he could after he had seen just how exhausted and defeated his brother actually was.

“You helped her choose her dress too, haven’t you?” Gordon asked, struggling to figure out the side adjusters on his pants.

“Mhmh.” Virgil proudly confirmed, smiling fondly. “Me and John did.”

“She… she’s going to look perfect, doesn’t she...?” just thinking about his bride-to-be was enough to make Gordon’s voice crack ever so slightly. He really loved her so much. “Of course, she always does…” she was perfection at its core. Penelope was the most amazing woman in the entire universe, she was so wonderfully flawless, she came straight out of a dream. She was calm, secure, confident, always so effortlessly gorgeous, and Gordon just adored her so much. “This is all a mistake, I… I just can’t, I’m ruining everything, Virg, I can’t-” he was pleading, begging, his hands trembling and struggling to even reach the single button on the tuxedo jacket.

Virgil didn’t hesitate a second to reach out for him, carefully capturing his baby brother in the warmest, tightest, most loving embrace. Gordon sobbed silently; shoulders hunched as he buried in face in his big brother’s sweater. Virgil gently rubbed the youngest’s back, shushing comforting words until the crying calmed down a bit.

“I know she’s the right woman for you, because she sees you the way we do, the way we all wish you could see yourself.” Virgil spoke softly, Gordon could distinctively hear how worried he was, yet Virgil was smiling ever so brightly. “We all love you so much, fish, and I really hope you will trust your future wife when she tells you that you are the perfect man for her.”

Gordon sighed heavily; his eyes fixed on the ground. How could he be the perfect man for Penny when he couldn’t even wear a tuxedo without looking like an idiot? Virgil carefully fixed his collar for him, and then he gently shook Gordon’s shoulders.

“Would you please look at you for a moment?” Virgil asked joyfully, and Gordon dutifully obeyed.

Turning back, Gordon held his gaze low for a moment, looking at his shoes. It took him a deep breathe, before he felt brave enough to look his reflection in the mirror. When he finally did, it felt like the world had stopped. The young man just stood there, frozen in place, mouth wide open as he stared at himself in disbelief. He could distantly hear Virgil chuckling right behind him, but Gordon’s mind was too overwhelmed with the sight in front of him to even bother.

“Single-breast, with a neat peaked lapel wonderfully shaping your swimmer shoulders, a textured grosgrain fabric on the collar to compliment the color choice, perfectly balanced with a double slit in the back of the jacket to elongate your figure.” Virgil spoke like a professional, illustrating each feature with precise and elegant gestures. “And it’s a standard size. Just picture how gorgeous it will be once it’s fitted to your measurements!”

Gordon couldn’t help the enthusiasm growing, despite not understanding a single word of what Virgil had just explained. He just knew that he felt… right. Good. No, more than good. He felt beautiful in a way that he had never experienced, in a way that he thought he could never allow himself to feel. Everything was perfect. The suit felt like an extension of his own being, showing off all the best qualities he could offer. He smiled through the dried tears, lips trembling, overwhelming happiness numbing his muscles.

“It’s… it’s perfect already.” Gordon managed to mumble, his eyes drifting from detail to detail. “I can’t believe it, it’s… it’s just…” he was at a loss of words, but for once he wasn’t bothered by it. He was way too happy, way too surprised to express it. He felt at peace, and he knew his brother could tell. “Thank you so much, Virg.”

“Shall we show it to the others?” Virgil asked, proudly waiting for his little sibling to make his big entrance.

Gordon didn’t hesitate, he was ready.

***

“Wooow…” Alan could only stare in shock as his big brother walked confidently across the boutique, his back straight and chin up, happily showing off his beautiful suit with a smile on his face. “Oh yeah, I like this one a lot!”

“Mh mh, that’s what I was thinking.” John nodded in approval, studying Gordon from head to toe with a genuinely satisfied look on his face. “It looks definitely looks great on you.”

“I know, right?” Virgil followed the groom-to-be, arms crossed and a proud, sly smirk on his face. “I managed to make our fish look like a prince, haven’t I, Scooter?”

Virgil patted the eldest Tracy brother’s back, trying to get a positive reaction from him too, knowing just how much it meant for Gordon to have everyone’s approval, especially Scott’s. As a result, Virgil only got a strained whine from his big brother in response. Everyone in the room turned worriedly to check on Scott, as Gordon froze in place, holding his breathe.

“What the heck is going on…” Scott whined, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sniffed loudly. “I’m literally crying.” The eldest attempted a smile, his deep dimples wet with happy tears. “You’re going to look fantastic on your day, baby brother, I’m so proud of you.”

Gordon had the widest, most sincere smile on his face as Scott hugged him tightly, loosening up after years of acting tougher and stronger than everyone else. Gordon was ecstatic, he felt gorgeous and loved. That’s what he was signing for, with this marriage. A beautiful life of love and happiness, surrounded by all the people who lifted him up and made him the best version of himself.

“So… are you saying yes to the tuxedo?” Virgil happily asked.

“I am saying yes to the tuxedo.”

[mykindofgeeky]

An Exhausting Review of The Wheel of Time

Apologies for the delay. Unfortunately round 2 of @fantasybooktournament ended right before my work week. On top of that Tears of the Kingdom and Gideon the Ninth have been consuming many of my waking hours outside of work. At this moment I am taking a break from both of my current obsessions to try and organize my thoughts about WoT. I will be providing a spoiler free TLDR followed by a more in depth review of the first four books.

SPOILER FREE TLDR:

The Good:

The Wheel of Time is an exceptionally well written high fantasy epic.

It utilizes its main cast well and most of them have satisfying narrative arcs.

The magic is unique and well thought out.

The women of the cast share just as many interesting personalities and skills as the men.

The series plays a lot with gender roles directly related to the magic system.

It has a lot to say about destiny and the heroes journey.

Several interesting mentor figures that all have just as many negative traits as positive ones.

A focus on one character's PTSD that is very believable and taken seriously by both the narrative and the characters around them.

A beautiful ending that still makes me cry when I think about it.

Brandon Sanderson

The Bad:

There are several villains that are sexual predators utilizing brainwashing, violence, and grooming to get their way. Jordan doesn't write sex scenes so none of the acts are recorded in the books but they are heavily implied.

There is exactly one trans woman character and she is a villain. She is also a sexual predator.

There is slavery in this series. It is done by one of the antagonist factions but it is not really resolved by the end of the series.

EXTREMELY LONG.

The insane amount of characters is a lot to keep track of. That said you don't NEED to know every character by name.

Major low point in the series that can be difficult to read due to a dramatic shift in narrative pacing. This starts in Book 5.

While the women are interesting they were still written by an old white guy. A lot of the "strong female characters" we have are described as overbearing, conniving, and arrogant.

The romance is often forced and the end of the series appears to be obsessed with pairing up all the characters without lovers.

Many of the characters have repeating physical habits as well as repeating experiences. Jordan will describe these things the same way over and over. There's a lot of fingering of blades, knuckling mustaches, yanking of braids, and adjusting of shawls.

Jordan clearly takes a lot of inspiration from Eastern faiths and cultures in both his magic system and the religion of the setting. He doesn't represent these things particularly well and it feels very Orientalist to me.

Brandon Sanderson

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

The Wheel of Time as a series is the absolute height of high fantasy epics in my opinion. It represents this sub-genre very well with nearly every trope of in the high fantasy tool box being utilized. That said it also carries many of the perceived negative aspects of the genre.

When I said this series was "very long" it is very much an understatement. The main series of books tops out at 4.4 MILLION words spread over 14 novels and 1 novella. It also has hundreds of characters with well over a hundred receiving a POV throughout the books. Yes that's right, this series has multiple characters sharing their perspectives.

The first three books I'm going to call "What if Robert Jordan wrote The Lord of the Rings?" These books are The Eye of the World, The Great Hunt, and The Dragon Reborn. Are these books direct rip offs of LotR? No absolutely not, but they do share a lot of the same structure. The fourth book The Shadow Rising is when things really get spicy.

***

The Eye of the World's primary purpose is to introduce important characters, set the narrative pacing of the series, and establish the setting.

It follows a group of youngsters from the village of Emond's Field; Rand, Mat, Perrin, Egwene, and Nynaeve. Several strangers come into the village for the Spring festival, Moiraine the Aes Sedai, Lan the Warder, and Thom the Gleeman. These characters serve as guides and mentors in the outside world later on. Shortly after this they are forced into a world of adventure after evil creatures called Trollocs attack their home.

The Eye of the World is a great opening to the series. It invites you into the setting and holds your hand through the first day before plunging you into the first night. The juxtaposition between the warm and gentle opening day and the horrifically violent night afterwards is a perfect synopsis of the two opposing forces of Light and Darkness.

It later lays the groundwork for the main characters' arcs that they will go through in the series while leaving room for doubt on if they will make it at all. There is also tons of foreshadowing not only within the book but also for the series as a whole. These are fun to piece together on a first read and even more fun to find on rereads.

The combat scenes are tense and you can really feel the Emond's Fielders panic contrasted with the wizened mentors calm. The social aspects of how the Aes Sedai fit into the world also provides plenty of tension. One of the main antagonistic forces in the series is introduced early on in Perrin and Egwene's travels and they are portrayed beautifully as the cruel bastards they are.

The ending is a little confusing, especially on a first read. Unfortunately Jordan seemed to have a bit of trouble writing around wanting the main antagonist to be in the book and for the main characters to think they've won in the end. It is a short and weird ending but most of the other books get much better endings.

***

The Great Hunt's job is to flesh out established villains and introduce new ones, flesh out some of the major factions, and provide more POVs on these weird ass situations. It primarily focuses on two storylines: "The Boys' No Good, Very Bad Day? Month? Year???" and "Little Witch Academia: Spy Game."

The Boys (Rand, Mat, and Perrin) are chasing down thieves who stole an important plot device called the Horn of Valere. They need this back because there is a concern that the horn could be used by the forces of evil to summon ghost heroes to fight for them. In addition they stole Mat's fucking drugs (an evil ass dagger from the first book) and now he's in withdrawal. The dagger is needed to break Mat's reliance on it.

The Girls (Egwene and Nynaeve; and new friends; Elayne and Min) are learning magic at the White Tower, home of the Aes Sedai. Egwene and Elayne are "Novices" together while Nynaeve has been allowed to become "Accepted" due to her being a bad bitch. Min is basically in a comfy jail cell and bored because she's not a witch. As they are learning magic they have been accidentally recruited into finding secret "Dark Friends" (followers of the main antagonist the Dark One) amongst the Aes Sedai.

Once again The Great Hunt does its job well. We get to learn much more about the world from several POVs. The White Tower is filled with political intrigue. The factions that have been introduced so far get a lot more development and the new ones are interesting. We see an introduction of several significant bad guys including the Seanchan who are really interesting.

At this point we have had a lot of growth with our main cast. They are still scared of conflict but they know how to defend themselves. They become more comfortable with the outside world some willingly some unwillingly. The mentor characters are starting to step away from being mentors which allows them to be more independent characters in their own right. That tenseness from the first book never really goes away. This book has a lot of twists that will have you on the edge of your seat.

The ending is far more comprehensible in The Great Hunt than The Eye of the World. It is extremely epic with an incredible three-way struggle that is referenced throughout the rest of the series.

***

The Dragon Reborn is our epic conclusion to Jordan's Lord of the Rings. Its job is to finish a lot of what was started, and develop our main cast further. It follows four groups of our cast to the city of Tear where The Dragon is to be Reborn: "The Al'Thor Identity (Crisis)," "Nanny Damodred: Manhunt," "Little Witch Academia: Spy Game pt. 2," and "The Guilt Trip."

Rand has been proclaimed the Dragon Reborn by Moiraine after the events of the second book. Rand is not a fan of this. He is so not a fan of it that he decides to try and speedrun this whole "Chosen One" thing. Of he skips to Tear by himself where he is supposed to claim a special sword that proves he's the Dragon Reborn. Reality literally bends around him on his way leaving a pretty clear path to follow.

Moiraine is not a fan of Rand going off leash and needs to chase him down. She takes Lan (who is basically glued to her ass anyway), Loial the Ogier (elves but thicc), and Perrin. He's pretty easy to follow since there's a Rand shaped hole left behind everywhere he goes. On the way Perrin makes two new friends; Gual the Aiel, and Faile (who are now both glued to Perrin's ass).

Nynaeve, Egwene, and Elayne are hunting more dark friend Aes Sedai after there was a theft and breakout of several of them from the White Tower. These dark friends stole several items of power and they must be retrieved. The girls are tracking them down disguised as Aes Sedai which is leading them to Tear unbeknownst to Rand and Moiraine.

Mat has been brought to the White Tower to be healed and separated from the dagger. In addition it is revealed that Mat is now connected to the Horn of Valere due to the events of the second book making him a very valuable asset to the White Tower. Mat nopes the fuck outta that and manages to escape after a lucky run of dicing and finding his old mentor Thom the Gleeman. After traveling to Caemlyn to deliver a letter, Mat becomes aware of a plot to murder Elayne. He knows that she's heading for Tear and decides to go after her.

Overall this is my favorite book of the first three. Its a more complicated plot but its easy enough to follow and every time the POV switches you get excited to learn more about that part of the story. This is the beginning of Rand's "madness" which is a side effect of being the Dragon Reborn as well as being a male witch and I enjoy how its written. You really feel for Rand as he acts like a cornered animal with nothing to lose. Perrin's interactions with his two new companions are fun with Gual being a fast friend who gives good advice and Faile being a compelling romantic interest with an acid tongue. I really enjoy how Perrin really appreciates Faile's beauty over time as he gets to know her. That said they kinda fall for each other really fast out of nowhere. Although they are probably one of the more interesting couples in the series. The girls have a fun roadtrip down to Tear with lots of new characters introduced. They aren't as prominent in this book but once they get to Tear they get to do a lot of cool shit. Mat's roadtrip with Thom is a fun reflection of their trip together in the first book with a far more competent Mat and a Thom who sees Mat as more of a man. We also get to see Mat's intelligence shine in this book which is great because he was more of a side character in the first two books.

The ending is a chaotic mess but in a fun way. All of these characters are smashing into each other by coincidence and foiling each others plans, rescuing each other from danger, and of course getting into arguments. There isn't really a big antagonist in this ending but it doesn't detract from the book at all.

***

OK NOW WE ARE GETTING SPICY! This is where the series really starts to shine bright!

The Shadow Rising is widely considered to be one of the best novels in the whole series. Personally it is my favorite fantasy novel hands down! The Shadow Rising is trying to do many things here but primarily it is: expanding the scope of the setting, circling back to previous plot points/details, increasing our main cast's influence on the world.

The Shadow Rising is the longest book for a reason. It is covering many, many storylines at the same time but I'm going to try and narrow it down. Primarily I'm going to focus on four groups: "Al'Thor of the Three-Fold Land," "Back to the Shire," "Little Witch Academia: Spy Game pt.3," and "How to Stage a Coup: Paint It Red."

Rand has been reading. This is a mistake. He decides that he must go to the Aiel Waste in order to become their chosen one, the Car'a'carn, The Chief of Chiefs. He is joined by Mat, Egwene, Moiraine, and his Aiel allies. During their journeys they are forced to discover more about themselves. Egwene goes to desert witch bootcamp. Mat gets a fancy spear and a new hat. Honestly, everything is coming up Al'Thor so far.

Perrin is worried about Emond's Field and decides to go back home and make sure everything is ok. He is joined by Gaul, Loial, Faile, and two additional Aiel Bain and Chiad who have taken a liking to Faile. They show up to the Two Rivers being invaded by Trollocs and the White Cloaks (who are chasing Perrin). Perrin and friends rally the Two Rivers to fight against both invaders.

Nynaeve, Elayne, Thom, and a new friend from the last book Juilin are still trying to smoke out the dark friend Aes Sedai. They track the traitors to Tanchico and begin searching the city. They end up finding more than they bargained for.

Min is continuing to be an endlessly annoyed guest of the White Tower. She is being used as a spy by the Amyrlin Seat (head of the White Tower) but she soon finds herself in a dangerous situation. Elaida the Red Sister is attempting a coup to claim the Amyrlin Seat for herself. Min manages to fine Siuan (the original Amyrlin) and Leane (her right hand woman) but they are both powerless and can no longer do magic. As they are escaping they also collect the dangerous criminal and False Dragon, Logain.

This is what we were waiting for. This is the true first chapter of the series. Everything up to know has been a prologue in my mind. We get serious character development, expansion of the setting, violence, romance, and so much more magic. If you want to read this series but don't think you'll finish it I BEG OF YOU read to this book. The Aiel are so goddamn cool and their culture is really interesting. The magic fights are getting more intense with them being narrated almost like sword fights. The politics within the White Tower and the Two Rivers is really cool. The drama in the Two Rivers with Perrin is so intense! I just can't praise this book enough.

I think I have to leave it there this is already too damn long. I really hope you give this series a chance and see if it is for you. Happy reading everyone!

“You can never know everything, and part of what you know is always wrong. Perhaps even the most important part. A portion of wisdom lies in knowing that. A portion of courage lies in going on anyways.” - The Eye of the World

[sugarglider-s]

Old man Wallace time

[ID: a digital shoulder-up portrait of Wallace but older. He has long, wavy hair with gray streaks, and groomed facial hair. He has blue eyeshadow, a transparent green shawl, a dark blue ascot, and a light blue button-up. End ID]