#hail the first queen of all norway

[author-morgan]

im so so curious about this plan of yours to rewrite seasons 5 and 6 with Harald and an OC. would you mind sharing another snippet? 🥺

oh, yes. so, i've been throwing around this idea for about 2 years now and have written blurbs here and there (really don't have much time due to Ph.D. life to sit down and start to fully flesh this out yet), but essentially i dislike what Hirst did to Harald in those last two seasons. so i want to give Harald a proper chance at love with a good wife (and queen).

my OC is Ragnhild the Mighty, based on one of his wives in the sagas who 'he loved above all others.' she's got a reputation (how else would she earn the epithet, Mighty) and is just as ambitious as he is when it comes to getting a crown and kingdom so it makes them quite a pair and force to reckon with.

the general synopsis is Harald and Ragnhild first meet in York (5b) and agree to raid and war against Alfred and co., but it becomes clear that the gods led them to one another for a reason, and not eager to part ways, she returns to Norway with him and Björn to fight Ivar. then it roughly adheres to the general events of the show (election, Rus invasion, etc.), but ofc has some unexpected spins here and there (and lest we forget, she is the mother of Eric Bloodaxe too).

but here's another snippet of them on the eve of the battle of meretun: 

“Indeed,” Harald breathes, his thoughts straying to his brother, to his princess. Both are dead in the cold iron earth now because of his doing. “But we are all blood and bone and spirit. Imperfect” —he lays his hand over hers— “and perfect as we are.” Ragnhild looks at him and wonders if he feels the same invisible flame—the same spark of strange magic—when their flesh touches. She shifts then without a word, swinging herself over his outstretched legs, perching on his lap. Her hands capture both sides of his face, thumbs following the fading blue-black ink of his tattoos and over the scar cutting across one of his cheeks. Her brother’s words echo loudly in her mind: he can make you a queen. Harald’s breath catches as he beholds her—the perfect woman—and a new softness appears in his livid eyes. “Ragnhild?” Her name is a soft, disbelieving whisper. Placing her palm over the restless pounding of his heart, Ragnhild leans toward him, stopping just when her nose brushes his, breaths mingling. “It is a cold night,” she echoes, the words dancing across his cheek and bearded jaw.

[princessoftherus]

"Listen, who tells the saga of King Ivar the Boneless and Queen Xenia the Great?The ruthless king and the Viking princess of Rus? The first true, great royal couple in all of Norway and Kattegat. The tough, combative royal couple of our people, whose legend will never be forgotten and their heirs will outlast even the country and will still be feared by the Christians, respected and admired by the people and by their enemies long after they have shivers of fear down their spines will run. They were considered invincible, tough and merciless in their decisions but tougher, more ruthless and fearsome towards their enemies. They protected the gods and our people and were Vikings through and through and as much as they were respected and admired, even celebrated for their victories, they were always feared. The cunning royal couple who, with cunning and treachery, courage and pride, fighting spirit and blood revenge, allowed Norway to blossom into true greatness and build it up. He was the son of Ragnar, she the daughter of the former ruler of Rus and despite their abdication they will never be forgotten and the gods still love them. For the last time, hail King Ivar, hail Queen Xenia."

@ivarthebonelessx

[behold-the-griffin]

okay, so I WAS live-blogging my read through of @athingofvikings fic, A Thing of Vikings, but I stopped some months ago, and THAT was because I was curbstomped by the need to create THIS:

All hail Queen Ruffnut the Wordsmith of Norway, first of her line. May her reign be long and prosperous.

[lisinfleur]

In your arms

The request:

Author’s Notes | Fuck the whole universe. I can't see that shitty ending for our pup and not doing anything about this. So, here is the first of the many things I'll write to correct what made us bleed in this last season of our beloved show! Hope you guys like it! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Hvitserk x Reader Info | Viking age AU, fixing plot AU, requested by anon. Words | 2941 ⁑ Warnings: Spoilers ahead. Mention to major character’s death, some angst.

"No brother! You've done your work! Do not interfere anymore. All my life has been a preparation for this moment. Stay back."

The sound of Ivar's voice and their last conversation for a long time populated his mind.

The many times they'd tried to reach for each other's ends and failed miserably made sense all at once in a single sentence.

"I could never kill you..."

What was left untold for their whole life, finally spoken.

"I love you. Now go. Go!"

Screams of strength and bravery overcame Ivar's final words of fear in Hvitserk's mind.

"Are we afraid of the death? No!"

For days he laid among the Christians after burying his brother like a true Viking lord, ensuring whoever was to find his grave would know what his brother wanted...

"Here is the grave of the most famous Viking that ever lived!"

The last promise he made before his little brother's eyes were lost from his to go into the golden doors he wasn't able to see, but was sure were open for Ivar to enter, engraved in his mind as if they were marked by fire.

"No one will ever forget Ivar, the Boneless."

He had to do it. He had to push forward his brother's legacy and what better way than doing what Ivar intended when they came back to stand on those cursed lands once again? Those poisonous lands that took his father, two of his little brothers, and the memory of the older one from who he separated in that place. That terrible place.

He would burn that place to ashes! And then he would spread those ashes over Ivar's grave like a gift to his brother's memory.

And so... He would come home. To fulfill one last promise also marked on fire in his mind and his heart.

"I'll come back, Y/N. I'll come back to you."

He had just found you after the many years of tragedy in his life. So, you became his secret in Kattegat. A secret he didn't tell not even to his beloved little brother, afraid somehow Ivar's hands could reach and rip his heart from his chest one more time.

You served his tables when he was younger and became a free woman since no one was caring about the fleeing slaves in the middle of that whole war he and his brothers fought with each other. But you'd never forgotten him and when he came back with his brother under the angry words of the town, you came after him, spoke of long-gone times and memories. And you offered your services for him who was once a good master in exchange for his mercy since now you were lost and helpless in the middle of the confusion Kattegat had become with so many rulers in so little time.

It didn't take too long for him to see you were a gift the gods had blessed him with. In a matter of days, his heart was bent.

To fall in love with you was easy. To leave you at the cabin when the time to leave had come was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

You cried in his chest and he could still remember how hard it was to hold your tears. He knew it could be his last battle... You knew he could never come back from that trip. But they had to do it.

You couldn't argue with his fate.

You couldn't beg him to stay.

So, you made him promise he would come back to you and swore you would wait for him. To warrant his promise was real, he left his recently recovered arm ring in your hands.

His fingers touched the pendant on his chest. Another hacksilver, placed alongside the one he had earned from his father on his necklace. You had given that pendant to him saying you wanted it back and so, he would have to come back to give it back to you.

Sometimes Hvitserk would wonder what was in your mind now. He knew the news of Ivar's defeat and Harald's death had reached Kattegat at that point. Would they say he was dead as well? Did they know he was a prisoner for so long?

Would you be there, waiting for him yet?

Promises were promises. Things were close to an end.

Hvitserk stopped a moment to admire his little brother's mind and toughness once again: it was hard as fuck to play games with the Christians and mislead them was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Hvitserk was a berserker. The mindless battle was his favorite game and those mental games were Ivar's specialty.

Maybe it was why he decided to do it that way.

Ivar's way.

It was his brother's legacy after all.

For months he had played the Christian. He accepted that stupid baptism and walked with a cross around his neck. He spoke meekly and accepted that stupid name they gave him as if it could erase everything he was and would ever be.

From behind, his crows were cawing at the Dane kings' ears at the settlement beside Wessex, remembering them he himself was also a son of Ragnar, fated to Valhalla, who, unlike Ubbe, wanted those lands entirely to their people as a fair payment for the lives those Christians had stolen from them.

Ragnar Loðbrók.

Harald Finehair.

Ivar, the Boneless.

The whole unavenged settlement prince Aethelwulf had destroyed years ago in time...

Their blood was considered a fair price for his people to rise. The position of third Dane king, abandoned by his older brother, was a vacancy Hvitserk was considered fitting to occupy.

Under the mantle of lies and with the night by his side, Hvitserk dressed his armor once again and headed up to the doors of the Royal Villa to open them to his people like once his brother Ubbe had opened the gates of York for them to enter.

Standing in the middle of the gates as the army of Vikings invaded the town, Hvitserk could almost hear his brother's voice screaming and the sound of that unmistakable chariot filling the air as if Ivar was riding with them into the Royal Villa, conquering what he wasn't able to see falling in front of his eyes.

Alfred fled with Elsewith and their child. Hvitserk spared their lives as they had spared his own. What's fair is fair and Ivar would forgive him for denying the royal blood to his vengeance, but Alfred had respected his brother's death, his grave wasn't touched and his life was preserved.

But the town was on fire, invaded and taken as Ivar once planned.

With the dawn, Hvitserk received a mark on his face to resemble his crown as the third Dane King his brother didn't want to be. But he knew he wouldn't stay as much as Ubbe didn't stay.

He was wounded and tired, but Ivar was avenged and it was time to fulfill his next promise.

"I ordered them to build a shrine for you, brother. They must start soon and the Danes ensured me they'll use the stones from the royal castle to build it around your grave," Hvitserk said, touching the stones of the simple tomb he had rose with his own hands. "They'll paint runes and make sacrifices. And this place shall be marked with your story, my brother. No one will ever forget who you were and, in the future, when they find this place, everyone will know here is the grave of the great Ivar, the Boneless, son of Ragnar Loðbrók, feared by many around the world and for whom this land fell into our hands."

His fingers caressed the stone as if he could touch Ivar's face once again.

"But now I think you know I have to go... And leave you behind, brother. For you'll be always alive in my heart, but she's waiting for me. I know I never told you anything about her... I had my reasons, you know them very well," he sighed. "I did it all for you, Ivar. And if she ever gives me a son, I'll name him after you, so he can keep telling your story throughout the years. I'll never forget you, brother. Hail and farewell, Ivar. We'll see each other again when the time comes..."

Leaving behind the first hacksilver of his necklace as a gift to his brother, Hvitserk left, mounting his horse and riding towards the docks where a Dane boat was already waiting for him, ready to take him home.

For a moment, Hvitserk placed his eyes on that land once again. Maybe it was the last time he would ever see that cursed place. Maybe one day he would come back to see Sigurd and Ivar and his father as well. Or maybe, like Ivar, he would come and die there alongside the ones he loved. The time would say. Fate would say.

He was finally coming home.

The boat took ages to make a trip he didn't remember was that long. Ingrid was the new queen and he could see the awe in her eyes when he jumped out of that boat, holding himself whole in spite of his tiredness.

"We thought you were..."

"Dead, like my brother. And your husband, I suppose," Hvitserk didn't care about cutting the queen's sentence. "Release your breath, woman. I have my own crown and have no interest in the one on your head. You're Harald's wife and he was Norway's king. This is now your problem, but still, my homelands so get used to having me walking around from time to time," he said, carelessly pointing down to the ground. "Now you excuse me, your highness... I have more important matters to treat. Spare me from feasts in your hall: The son of Ragnar may be back home, but I'm tired, exhausted... All I want is to find my woman and rest in her arms."

"Your what?"

But he left Ingrid and her whole surprise behind, walking away from the boat as the Danes were preparing to move with their trip. They wouldn't stay. He wouldn't come back, at least, for now.

If he ever had to die in those cursed lands, he would do it like his father: before growing too old.

After living his whole life.

His steps were still limping and for a moment, he giggled, remembering how Ivar had limped that whole pier under horrible words where now there were smiles and grateful faces blessing his return. Would they bless if Ivar was back as well?

Oh, they would. But his brother wanted more than just their blessings.

And he wanted more than just their words.

Hvitserk straightened his cloak. His limping steps walking through the streets with many memories, sometimes sad memories, sometimes sweet ones. And as his steps shortened the distance towards his cabin, the sweetest memories came, remembering him of his sneaky movements through those streets to find you without his little brother's eyes over him. The kisses you'd exchanged. Your hands against his skin.

His heart pounded when his eyes finally reached that door. It was still the same... The cabin was still exactly as his memories could build it in his mind. But it was silent and it, for a moment, stopped everything into Hvitserk's heart.

Could it be that the news of his death had sent you away for good?

Did he take too long to come back? Did someone tell you he was turned into a Christian and you believed it was for real?

His fingers touched the door and he hesitated before knocking on it.

What if you weren't there to answer?

What if there was another with you in his place now?

It was easier to burn down the Christians' village than it was to knock on his own house's door, but the sound of footsteps inside approaching the door turned Hvitserk's mind completely blank for a second.

The lock was opened and his eyes watched as the light from outside invaded the darkened cabin, covering your figure and showing the pale tones of your apron dress.

"Now it's not a good time, I'm..."

Your voice died into your throat. And your eyes met his in a long moment of silence where the whole world seemed to be stopped along with time itself.

Hvitserk could watch as the line of your eyes filled slowly with tears. He observed as the tears became thicker and broke the line, rolling down your face. Your beautiful face... He thought so many times he would never see you again.

You sobbed, losing the strength of your legs. And Hvitserk held you in his arms, feeling the warmth of your body against his chest once again.

It wasn't one more of his dreams. You were there.

He was home.

His scent invaded your nose and your sobs engulfed you whole as you nestled into his arms, holding him so tight that your knuckles became white against his clothes.

"Shh... Hush, my sweet love. I'm here now. I'm here with you," he mumbled as your sobs became louder.

You thought he was dead.

They told you he was dead.

You cried your soul out on that pier, begging the gods to drag your body into the waters and allow you to swim towards him into Valhalla as queen Gunnhild had done after her beloved Björn.

But instead, they held you back.

And as Hvitserk's hands cupped your face before he could seal his lips against yours, tasting your flavors he missed so bad once again, you understood why the gods had given you a reason to keep yourself alive.

It was for him. You were his gift.

And the gods had decided to bless him once more.

"I brought it back to you, my love," he said, giving your pendant back with his necklace. "The other... I left with him," he mumbled.

Eyes full of sadness for his brother you knew wouldn't come back with him.

You gave back his arm ring, caressing his hand as he smiled.

"I thought I would never see you again," he mumbled.

His warm and big hand caressing your face, drying the tears from it before you could finally speak between the sobs.

"They told us you were dead, my sweet prince. I mourned alone and wanted to follow you into Valhalla to serve your feast. But the gods forbade me. They took my freedom for it wasn't my choice anymore."

Hvitserk looked at you curious, not understanding your words until you brought him into the cabin enough for his eyes to land on the basket over his bed.

"They filled me with life and entrusted me with your legacy. I couldn't go. They made me stay. And now I understand that's because you're here, my love. You're back to me."

There weren't words in his mouth anymore.

Hvitserk's steps limped towards the bed and he sat, looking at that basket with surprise and admiration. Inside, a pair of icy blues was facing him, remembering him of so much in his life inside those little eyes.

Ragnar's eyes.

Ubbe's eyes.

Ivar's eyes...

All looking at him into the little one's orbs as his son was trying to eat his own hand, hungry like himself.

"His name is Herleifr, son of Hvitserk. For he's indeed the son of a warrior and I wanted him to know where he came from..." you mumbled as Hvitserk gently lifted the little one from the basket, holding the baby against his chest.

This time it was his eye line unable to hold back his tears as his fingers gently touched the little one's hands and face.

He had seen so much death...

He had lost so much on that trip...

His hands had buried his own little brother and burned that town to the ground, but now, they were holding his future.

Hvitserk giggled.

"Herleifr... My brother shall forgive me once again. I must have to produce another so I can name it after him as I promised," he said, making you smile at his teary face.

You came closer, caressing his cheeks, drying his tears.

"We shall take care of you, my precious prince. And so, when you're healed, we shall produce as many heirs you think you want to honor all the ones you lost and more," you smiled, feeling his hand touching your face, pulling you closer so he could kiss you that way you loved so bad.

The baby cooed in his hand when your lips separated from each other and Hvitserk smiled.

"Now I'm home... Now... I'm back where I belong," he said, touching his forehead to yours, caressing your face with his thumb. "In your arms, my love. I belong in your arms and this is my place in this world."

For a second, Hvitserk could feel Ivar's eyes over him. And he smiled remembering he could be there to watch for him.

"Valhalla will wait," he said, almost being able to hear his little brother's giggle as he caressed your face, smiling at you. "I have a whole dynasty to produce with you first."

His time to find his beloved ones at Valhalla would come, he knew that. But until there, he would enjoy his place in Miðgarð and produce as many heirs as you were up to bear for him.

His time to fight was over for now and now it was time for him to be happy. And he would, by your side.

By your side, he would.

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[scotianostra]

On January 30th 1886 Elizabeth 'Betty' Mouat set sail from Grutness to Lerwick, on the Shetland Isles, she would be washed ashore in Norway over a week later.

  In 1886 the unmarried Betty Mouat was 59 years old. She supported herself by knitting and she lived with her half-brother’s family in the tiny hamlet of Scatness near the southern tip of the main island of the Shetlands, one of the most remote inhabited locations in the British Isles.

Her background was a tragic one – her father had died six months before her birth when the whaler he was serving on disappeared in the Arctic. Her poor luck continued – a cartwheel broke her leg, and she was once shot in the head by a man hunting rabbits. ��She herself had suffered a stroke in her late 50's and it was probably for treatment of this she set out for the doctors surgery 25 miles away that January morning on the Columbine, a small cutter-rigged sailing craft that carried mail and passengers, on the journey she was bringing some forty hand-crafted shawls with her for sale on behalf of herself and neighbours. weather was deteriorating and the Columbine’s captain warned Miss Mouat  that a rough passage could be expected. He advised that she might better wait. She was quite adamant however – sail in the Columbine she would. She came on board with her merchandise and with two pints of milk and two biscuits for refreshment during the expected three or four- hour passage. She went down into the small cabin and settled herself.

Disaster struck within half an hour of departure.  The main sheet broke, allowing the boom to swing free and in the process of securing it the captain was thrown overboard. The craft carried two deckhands and now – with the Columbine unable to manoeuvre due to the unavailability of the mainsail – they too the decision to launch the vessel’s single row-boat and go to the captain’s rescue. Given the weather conditions it seems remarkable that they expected to get back to the Columbine. The captain could not be found but by the time they realised that their search was futile the Columbine had been driven too far off to reach. She was carrying Miss Mouat, the only passenger, with her. The two deckhands were successful in reaching shore and raising the alarm but given the communications of the time the response could not be immediate. It's now I will hand you over to the great Tragedian Scottish poet William McGonagall, with a a contemporary account of the events, in his own inimitable style!  

The Wreck of the “Columbine” Kind Christians, all pay attention to me, And Miss Mouat’s sufferings I’ll relate to ye; While on board the Columbine, on the merciless sea, Tossing about in the darkness of night in the storm helplessly.

She left her home (Scatness), on Saturday morning, bound for Lerwick, Thinking to get cured by a man she knew, as she was very sick; But for eight days she was tossed about on the stormy main, By a severe storm of wind, hail, and rain.

The waves washed o’er the little craft, and the wind loudly roared, And the Skipper, by a big wave, was washed overboard; Then the crew launched the small boat on the stormy main, Thinking to rescue the Skipper, but it was all in vain.

Nevertheless, the crew struggled hard his life to save, But alas! the Skipper sank, and found a watery grave; And the white crested waves madly did roar, Still the crew, thank God, landed safe on shore.

As soon as Miss Mouat found she was alone, Her mind became absorbed about her friends at home; As her terrible situation presented itself to her mind, And her native place being quickly left far behind.

And as the big waves lashed the deck with fearful shocks, Miss Mouat thought the vessel had struck upon a reef of rocks; And she thought the crew had gone to get help from land, While she held to a rope fastened to the cabin roof by her right hand.

And there the poor creature was in danger of being thrown to the floor, Whilst the heavy showers of spray were blown against the cabin door, And the loosened sail was reduced to tatters and flapping with the wind, And the noise thereof caused strange fears to arise in her mind.

And after some hours of darkness had set in, The table capsized with a lurch of the sea which made a fearful din, Which helped to put the poor creature in a terrible fright, To hear the drawers of the table rolling about all the night.

And there the noble heroine sat looking very woe-begone, With hands uplifted to God making her moan, Praying to God above to send her relief, While in frantic screams she gave vent to her pent up grief.

And loud and earnestly to God the noble heroine did cry, And the poor invalid’s bosom heaved many a sigh; Oh! heaven, hard was the fate of this woman of sixty years of age, Tossing about on the briny deep, while the storm fiend did rage.

Oh! think of the poor soul crouched in the cabin below, With her heart full of fear, cold, hunger, and woe, And the pitiless storm of rain, hail, and snow, Tossing about her tiny craft to and fro.

And when the morning came she felt very sick, And she expected the voyage would be about three hours to Lerwick, And her stock of provisions was but very small, Only two half-penny biscuits and a quart bottle of milk in all

Still the heavy snow kept falling, and the sky was obscured, And on Sabbath morning she made her first meal on board, And this she confined to a little drop of milk and half a biscuit, Which she wisely considered was most fit.

And to the rope fastened to the cabin roof she still held on Until her hands began to blister, and she felt woe-begone, But by standing on a chest she could look out of the hatchway, And spend a little time in casting her eyes o’er the sea each day.

When Wednesday morning came the weather was very fine, And the sun in the heavens brightly did shine, And continued so all the live long day; Then Miss Mouat guessed that land to the norward lay.

Then the poor creature sat down to her last meal on board, And with heartfelt thanks she praised the Lord; But when Thursday morning came no more food could be had, Then she mounted a box about seven o’clock while her heart felt sad.

And she took her usual gaze o’er the sea with a wistful eye, Hoping that some passing vessel she might descry, And to the westward she espied a bright red light, But as the little craft passed on it vanished from her sight.

But alas; no vessel could she see around anywhere, And at last the poor soul began to despair, And there the lonely woman sat looking out to the heavens above, Praying to God for succour with her heart full of love.

At last the Columbine began to strike on submerged rocks, And with the rise and fall of the sea she received some dreadful shocks, And notwithstanding that the vessel was still rolling among the rocks, Still the noble heroine contrived once more to raise herself upon the box.

Still the Columbine sped on, and ran upon a shingly beach, And at last the Island of Lepsoe, Miss Mouat did reach, And she was kindly treated by the inhabitants in every way that’s grand, And conveyed to Aalesund and there taking steamer to fair England. On 7th February 1886 the Columbine was washed ashore on a beach at Lepsøy, near Ålesund, in Norway. When local villagers arrived on the scene they found Betty Mouat alive and well, after nine days living on a single bottle of milk and some ship's biscuits. Betty was repatriated to Edinburgh, and finally arrived in Lerwick on board the steamer St Clair in late March. 

She became an immediate celebrity and an appeal for public subscriptions to help her attracted a letter and a donation of £20 from Queen Victoria.

Betty Mouat lived to be 93 and on her death in 1918 was buried at Dunrossness Churchyard. The bay where she came ashore in Norway is now called Columbinebukta or "Columbine Bay": on 17th May 1986 a plaque was unveiled there commemorating the event. The croft in which Betty Mouat spent most of her life has now been extended to become Betty Mouat's Böd, a camping böd close to Sumburgh Airport.

[peonypearls-muddled-musings]

Main characters of PDatSK (more or less)

Dagney - Crown Princess of Olthandrynn (formerly Denmark), aged 14, patient and benevolent, she has chosen to add ambassador to her title of future queen; however, when old tempers flare from those who seek to harm her family, she must learn that peace isn’t always kind. (DoB: October 22nd)

Dargon - King of Olthandrynn, age unknown, former resident of Hell; The Seahorse King; Dargon is a man who thinks little of himself, but everything about his family and friends. He is wise, but admits his intelligence lacks due to years of just getting by on his own and having no formal education. (DoB unknown; chosen DoB April 7th)

Gwinletta - Queen of Olthandrynn, aged 47, former queen of Aubrelle (formerly southern France). Gwin lived a lonely childhood, something she promised no child of hers would ever face. She is a woman of resolve and determination, warm and jovial when she’s not overthinking. (DoB: July 29th)

Bensith - Prince of Olthandrynn, aged 9, Dagney’s witty, dry humored little brother is her best friend and confidant. A musical prodigy, Bensith prefers to stay indoors while his sisters enjoy running about in the fields; but often finds himself lonely, although he won’t admit it. (DoB: January 1st)

Miske - The youngest (soon to be second youngest) Olthandriann heir at age 4, Miske was born during a tornado warning, but many jest she was actually the tornado. A whirlwind of tulle and mud, Miske’s only priorities are her own whims, which can change by the second. (DoB: March 11th)

----

Rinwey - The king of Gelleshire (formerly Wales), aged 55, Rinwey is spiteful, intelligent, and cold; but a doting husband and father. He won’t be fully content until the world is rid of Shapeshifters, and he is proud that his father’s side of the family has been guarding the Gates of Hell for generations. (DoB: October 23rd)

Pellnique - Queen of Gelleshire, aged 42. Pellnique put Rinwey in his place once, and it immediately had an impact on his stone hearted nature. They were wed within the year, and have only become closer over the past two decades. Sporty and charming, Pellnique is often the more sociable when she and her spouse are traveling. (DoB February 14th)

Colme - Twin of Olerqus, aged 17, the crown prince of Gelleshire is quiet, focused, and steely, although he is not cold and brash like Rinwey. While he will continue his father’s tradition of being a technological scientist, it’s been rumored that Colme may discontinue Shapeshifter hunts due to his very obvious disdain for them; but Rinwey will not comment on the possibility when asked about it; as it’s obviously not something he wants to think about. This has put a strain on the father and son’s relationship despite how well they often work together. (DoB: June 12th

Olerqus - The second in line for Gelleshire’s crown, aged 17, Olerqus is very much his mother’s son. Sociable, comedic, and light hearted, Olerqus is the first artist in his family for quite some years, not only creating his own pieces, but learning how to restore art from the years before the Shapeshifters’ rule. He is his brother’s other half, as their differences only strengthen each other. (DoB: June 12th)

Vuniper - the only princess of Gelleshire, aged 13, Vuniper is a well meaning spark of energy who looks up to her brothers and parents, although sometimes she may come off as disrespectful due to her spontaneity and eagerness. She is, however, worried about the fact that she is facing her Vocation choice soon, and she’s fighting to find what she wants to do. (DoB: August 14th)

Hadleinn - The youngest Gelleshire royal, aged 8, Hadleinn was born nearly 3 months premature, and has grown up with all of his parents’ precautions. He is pampered and loved, and often the most spoiled of the children. However, he’s been known to use this to spoil his own siblings at times, sneaking them treats when they’re supposed to be studying. (DoB: November 30th)

----

Grennt  - King of Karntherin (formerly Greece), aged 43. Grennt is a tender-hearted man who values his loved ones. Currently married to his husband, Veluthe, Grennt is still friends with his ex-wife, Desta, with whom he welcomed his firstborne, Prince Branndt. Grennt is also on good terms with Desta’s husband, Bardeth. Grennt was Dargon’s first true ally, the two of them finding common ground during the Usurper War when it came to forging friendships, and they have been steadfast friends for some twenty years. (DoB: April 1st)

Veluthe - Former Captain of the Guard of Culpernathe (formerly Norway), a 53 year old trans man, Veluthe is a decorated warrior who is still held in high esteem with those who have served with him. Reserved and wry, but supportive and welcoming, Veluthe never imagined that retirement to Karntherin would land him in the eyes of the king. After an intimate courtship, Veluthe accepted Grennt’s proposal of marriage, and three years later, after much planning, they welcomed their daughter, Olympia. Veluthe is often called ‘the shoulder’, as when there’s strife, he’s often there to help alleviate that pain with a hug and as much support as he can offer. (DoB: September 19th)

Branndt - the 20 year old crown prince of Karntherin, Branndt is a beaming, sociable young man. At nearly 6′5′’, Branndt towers above all of his parents. He has a close relationship with his father, who he has lived with since his parents’ divorce, and played an integral part in convincing Grennt to ask Veluthe on a date. Branndt loves and respects his mother, who he always looks forward to seeing, and he communicates with her, his stepfather, and his little brothers regularly. (DoB: May 27th)

Olympia - the 5 year old princess of Karntherin, Olympia is quiet, but excitable. Her favorite method of transportation is sitting on top of her big brother’s shoulders. (Dob: December 21st)

----

Desta - The 43 year old Queen of Takev (formerly Morocco), Desta hails from Kivne (which was once Egypt), where her older sister rules. Desta met Grennt during a social event when they were both 19, and the two clicked immediately. Enamored and romantic, the two married quickly, and welcomed their son Branndt by the time they were 23. However, after several more years, they realized they were growing apart. In order to preserve their friendship, they divorced amicably. Desta is the definition of a queen; regal, fair, and hard working. She would soon meet and marry her now-husband, Bardeth, and welcome two more sons. (DoB: November 13th)

Bardeth - the 47 year old King of Takev, Bardeth is a gentle soul. A medicine man at heart, Bardeth values science, nature and humanity. He has met much of his extended family before during wartime, having aided Grennt in patching up warriors, and meeting Veluthe after a grenade explosion caused the amputation of his lower leg, which led to his early retirement. Bardeth also met Dargon during the Usurper War, and the two often shared a quiet campfire as they decompressed from the stressors of war. Bardeth adores his wife, and is proud of his two boys, even if at times they’re a bit too rambunctious for him to handle. (DoB: June 1st)

Mig’Hail - the 7 year old crown prince of Takev, Mig’Hail is contemplative, but often uses that for a bit of mischief with his younger brother. Regardless, Mig’Hail is a friendly boy, and often just needs an outlet to talk about his favorite things with. (DoB: August 7th)

Coloye  - the 6 year old prince of Takev, Coloye is his big brother’s shadow, often following him around wherever he goes; except when it has to do with his royal lessons, then the little prince is often finding his parents to see if they’re up to anything exciting (spoiler alert, they’re not) (DoB: July 7th)

----

Thanoelle - the 73 year old queen of Kluyagal (which sits in the territory once known as southern California) and older half sister of Rinwey, Thanoelle is proud to call herself one of the gatekeepers of Hell. Following in her father’s footsteps, she performs monthly purges without mercy, She remains in excellent health, even as a new great-grandmother. She is maternal to her family, but to a Shapeshifter, she acts as the grim reaper. (DoB June 20th)

[elsanna-shenanigans]

February Contest Submission #15: The Old House

words: ca. 6000 setting: 20th Century. Real world (with a twist) lemon: No cw: Some angst. Mentions of parent death. Referenced/implied child abuse.

“It’s time to go.”

She saw through the mist a hand, reaching out for her. Large snowflakes swirled past them like a swarm of puffy hens. The hand could not hold her. It slipped away. She called her parents’ names, or so she thought.

They found her moribund little body in the snow the next morning.

ᚼᛅᛁᛘᛦ•ᛅᚱᚾᚬᛏᛅᛚᛦ

Anna woke up with a start, chest heaving.

It was dark in the hotel room. Her roommate— partner?— stirred groggily next to her.

“Anna? What’s wrong?” Her raspy voice asked. “Was it another nightmare.”

“No,” she lied. “I’m sorry. Y-you can go back to sleep.”

She could feel Elsa’s eyes on her.

“What do you need?” She asked. Her voice spread warmth across Anna’s chest.

“…I could really use a warm hug.”

Next thing she knew, a pair of arms were gathering her into an embrace. She tucked her head under Elsa’s chin and sighed.

It would be a long day, it seemed.

ᚼᛅᛁᛘᛦ•ᛅᚱᚾᚬᛏᛅᛚᛦ

Arendelle was a small town on an island north of Norway. It was born as a fishing town in the 1890s and never changed its trajectory. Only a few dozen houses, a fish-oil refinery, the docks, one church, one school, one hotel, and an administrative building uphill. The people of Arendelle were rustic and gloomy, much like the weather they were brought up in: hail twice a week, snow in winter, and rain the rest of the time. In short: Arendelle hadn’t changed one bit since Anna left.

Being at the foot of the mountain, Arendelle’s surroundings were prone to avalanches, and the most recent one had taken place only a week back. It missed them by a few miles, but it opened up a door for archaeologists from the University of Bergen, who came to study what had been uncovered by the snow.

Anna wasn’t an archaeologist; she was a girl on a mission. She left while her grandfather slept, hopping into a cargo ship to travel north. Her passage was worth weeks of work. She hadn’t expected the sight of the town in the distance to hurt her as it did, so she kept her mind busy, and spent her days searching. 

The day things began to go downhill, she was, as always, searching for her parents’ bodies. 

She climbed up the mountains with her wooden stick and stabbed the snow with it, searching for something harder than mud. Bones, hopefully, although she was terrified of finding frozen flesh sticking to their cheekbones. The sky grew dark and cold, and Elsa would kill her if she arrived one minute too late, so she decided to turn back. She followed her own tracks towards the dig (where they let her sit by the ever-burning campfire as long as she wasn’t too noisy). The skeletal tree-branches rattled above. The wind whistled and swooshed sharply, blowing rough snow that clawed at her reddened cheeks. Her hands were numb even inside her pockets. Anna’s only comfort was thinking about Elsa’s arms around her. Not even the sight of Arendelle downhill quelled the chill.

Anna might be a born-Arendellian, but she grew up in the south of Norway. She was ill-prepared for the hostile North. 

However, if Elsa had taught her anything, was that even under the dark frozen sky there were objects of wonder.

As Anna trudged across the snow-sea which reached her mid-calf, something caught her eye. A narrow stone-wall led deep into the forest. Only two feet tall and falling apart already. Frost covered its surface. 

Her heart leaped. She deviated from her path without a second thought, legs racing, pulse and breath quickening with emotion.

The picture-stone came into view after. It lied deeper into the woods. A bow-shaped slab. Abstract ships, stick-people, reindeer herds gathered on it in a violent array of reds. Waves, antlers, and swords, a story carved in stone. A sacrifice.

And in the center, she found her.

There was something else to Arendelle.

“The Queen,” The hotel-butler had explained.

“The Queen of Norway?” Anna had asked, much to his amusement.

“No, the real Queen.”

The Snow Queen, who with her reindeer-pulled chariot cast a shadow of frost over every corner of the North. Her arms rose towards the sky, where her snowflake curled like clouds, like the winds she sent south. The slab was thirteen-foot-tall and rose high above Anna, with its depiction of the nordic spirit. Below her, was an inscription.

As it usually did, time halted. Anna’s throat dried, her eyes widened. She covered her mouth. She could no longer hear the sharp branch-rattling or wind-whistling over the sound of her own warm blood pounding in her ears. She no longer felt cold. 

She reached forward, tracing with a fingertip the carvings. 

The finds couldn’t be younger than seven hundred years old. Had it truly been that long? Oh, Anna could nearly feel the sculptor’s trembling hands, their warm breath. She placed a hand where someone else’s hands had once been. 

She searched for her journal inside her coat and scribbled down the runes she saw, as well as the stone and the wall she’d seen before.

Anna was no archaeologist— she wasn’t nearly smart enough—, but she understood why someone may choose this path. When she gazed upon this stone, it was as if there was no distance at all. 

The icy wind pushed against her, pulling her out of her haze. Yes! She began to stroll downhill. She’d prove her usefulness! She’d alert the scholars of the new find.

ᚼᛅᛁᛘᛦ•ᛅᚱᚾᚬᛏᛅᛚᛦ

Anna and the archaeologists were two land mammals sharing the same habitat, only, while they searched with brushes and trowels, Anna searched with a wooden stick. As non-competitive species, they often shared the same space, considering they knew her story. Anna wasn’t sure why the scholars tolerated her, but maybe it was because she and Elsa were a package deal now.

As soon as she reached her destination, Elsa threw her arms around her shoulders, kissed her cheek, and asked:

“Are you alright?”

She pulled back, anxious eyes studied her from head to toe. Anna’s heart always swelled with adoration when she heard that voice.

“I am,” she soothed her. “Oh, Elsa, you won’t believe what I found!”

“Wait.” Elsa tugged her towards the campfire and caressed Anna’s cheek with the back of her hand. “You’re cold. Come here.”

Soon, they sat on a log before the magnificent dig. A farmstead, they’d said. Stone walls and a half-rotten roof still mostly standing, surrounded by icy farming grounds where lamb bones were found.

The more awe-inspiring part, of course, was that a family had lived there. The farmstead was someone’s home. Elsa had described the findings in length: a family of three. All of them Christians, and funnily enough, also sheepherders. Thirteenth century. The settlement of Árnadalr lied many kilometers south, but this family lived in solitude.

Anna now wore an extra coat, held a mug of cocoa in her hands, and had Elsa fussing over her like a mother hen.

“What took you so long? You could get lost out there! And you left your scarf behind again. Here, let me find it.”

“Well, aren’t you a protective one,” Anna teased her, sipping her drink. Elsa’s pale skin flushed.

“It’s my job, isn’t it?” she muttered.

Before Anna could snort and ask what that meant, Professor Mattias, who was in charge of the dig, intervened to ask about Anna’s findings in the woods. Her enthusiasm immediately reassured everyone that she brought good news, and while they couldn’t travel at night, they still celebrated in the hotel. They cheered with vodka at the charcoal-sketch of the picture-stone Anna had presented. Yes, she’d made herself useful.

As they congratulated her, Elsa remained silent.

The hotel was so old, half the lightbulbs didn’t work. There was only one phone, and a dozen residents lined up every day to make their thirty-minutes calls and clog up the narrow smelly corridor. Each curtain was half-eaten by moths; you’d be wise not to put your clothes in the closet. Three stories of dusty light, creaky stairways, and dirty cracked windows. You could hear every neighbor from three doors away, and the ice clawed down from the roof into a fang-curtain before every window. They offered only one blanket per bed, but Elsa had provided Anna with a woolen quilt on her first night. That had perhaps been the first step towards falling in love with her. Between paying for both of them and giving up her own warmth, Elsa had extended unconditional kindness towards Anna from day one. Maybe they’d been doomed from the start. 

“They’re out of single rooms,” she’d clarified upon Anna’s arrival. “And I’ve been paying for an empty bed for the past week. Please, I insist.”

It might have passed as simple pragmatism had Elsa not been Elsa. It wasn’t only about her treatment towards Anna, no, but about how she’d treat a stranger in need, that made Anna lose control of her heart. 

She asked her about her silence, in the light of their whale-oil lamp (their room’s electricity hadn’t worked since the ‘30s), as she tried to translate the runes with her journal and a book she’d grabbed from the local library.

“Is everything okay, Elsa?”

Elsa was sitting on her bed, silently combing her hair. She wore only her slip, which was quite distracting, but she didn’t have the intention of getting into bed, despite looking so tired.

At Anna’s words, she tilted her head.

“Why? Are you feeling poorly?”

Anna snorted.

“I’m okay. Are you?”

“It’s nothing.”

Anna sighed. She closed the book and stared at Elsa.

“You never let me pull off this whole.. avoiding the subject thing,” she protested, and then extended an arm towards her, begging to come closer. A new anxious question settled on her tongue. “Are you…? Do you feel…? I mean, do you feel safe with me, Elsa? Like you can trust me?”

Elsa’s eyes studied her for one agonizing moment. She stood up. Well, they did only meet a month back. Weren’t they moving too fast? Her grandfather would certainly disapprove. 

“It’s not that,” Elsa murmured as she approached Anna. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and nuzzled the top of her head. She planted a kiss there, and Anna’s heart skipped a beat. “I do trust you.”

Anna saw her pale fingers brush over the pages of her journal. Her uncertain translation read:

This stone was raised in memory of Agðar and Iðunn, who met their end in their travels. Their daughter carved this stone.

“You’re becoming quite a good translator,” Elsa commented, and placed another kiss on Anna’s hair. Heat crept up to the tips of her ears.

“T-thank you,” she replied, as she ripped off the page and stored it in her folder, alongside all other translations and sketches she’d scribbled since her arrival: small runestones, illustrations of archaeological finds, and multiple petroglyphs of the Queen, all of which she’d shared with the archaeologists. “You’re an excellent translator as well! I mean, I suppose you are. You work at the dig, after all.”

Elsa hummed.

“I’m not an archaeologist. I’m only a volunteer.” she argued. “In fact, I believe you’ve been more helpful than me.” She flipped over a page. “The Snow Queen?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah,” Anna stammered. “Kind of a passion project.”

“For the Snow Queen?” Elsa raised an eyebrow. “Should I be jealous?”

“Well, legend has it she was single, right? Oh! Thy Majesty! Pardon my manners, but I shoult say thy bosom looks exquisite. Are thee by any chance in need of a shieldmaiden?”

A hand snaked around her waist. Anna shrieked as Elsa’s fingers dug into the sensitive spot. Between laughter and screeching, she curled on herself and tried to swat her hand away. 

“Come on,” Elsa laughed. “It’s getting late. And keep working on your performance. That’s not how people spoke back in the day.”

She ruffled Anna’s hair and strode back towards her bed, and— alright, she saw swaying her hips on purpose. 

Anna pulled her knees to her chest, placing her heels on the edge of the seat and hugging her legs.

“You said you grew up here, right?”

“More or less, yes. Why?”

“Oh, I was just wondering. About the Snow Queen, you know.”

“What about her?”

“…That’s what I meant to ask.”

Elsa sighed. She rubbed her eyes.

“Just… some fairy tale,” she dismissed it, with a wave of her hand. “To make children behave. If you were nasty, a monster would feel your frozen heart and take you to her palace.”

“Was it a nice palace, at least?”

“I wouldn’t know. I was quite obedient growing up.”

“Oh, excuse me.”

Elsa chuckled, and Anna’s heart fluttered with affection.

“I was!” she insisted, giving Anna a mischievous look. “But no. I don’t think it was a nice place. In fact, they say everything about the Queen was cruel and horrible. She never seemed like girlfriend material to me.”

“You think?” Anna asked. “I don’t know. Maybe she was lonely.”

Elsa cast her eyes down, lips curling into a melancholic smile.

“Well, I doubt even she could resist your charms.”

With a delicate finger, she pulled Anna’s hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Now the heat was in Anna’s stomach, in her chest, in the way Elsa gazed at her with such an unexpected adoration, she couldn’t help but to raise her head and kiss her lips. Elsa sighed contentedly, her hand cradling the back of Anna’s neck. Her mind spun around as their lips brushed together. 

Then Elsa pulled away, with a pensive expression. She bit her lip.

“Tell you what,” she said, grasping Anna’s hands. “Come with me tomorrow. I want to show you something.”

Anna grinned. That was good enough for her. She’d wait for Elsa to speak in her own terms and time. 

ᚼᛅᛁᛘᛦ•ᛅᚱᚾᚬᛏᛅᛚᛦ

“That’s the thing,” she remembered her grandfather say, when she was seven. “I doubt they got lost. We would have found the bodies by now. I bet the reason they’re gone is because they didn’t want to deal with the responsibility, so they thrusted it on me.”

Anna woke again. Her hands trembled.

That had been a lie. 

That had to be a lie. 

He had always lied, hadn’t he? Maybe he just despised her.

Yes, she’d find them and prove him wrong. 

They loved her. They were dead.

Thankfully, Elsa wasn’t disturbed by her pathetic dreams. Anna was surprised she still put up with her, but it was better not to take risks.

She grabbed her coat and got ready for the day.

ᚼᛅᛁᛘᛦ•ᛅᚱᚾᚬᛏᛅᛚᛦ

Elsa guided her through the lonely snow-sea of the mountains in the dark winter morning. The Queen seemed to have it against them, because she blew her snow all over and made them struggle to climb up the hills. 

“Um… Elsa? How much until we get there?” Anna asked, as she could no longer feel her toes.

“Not much,” Elsa absently replied. Her eyes drifted all over the hills. She grasped Anna’s hand and pulled her along. 

The cliffs overlooking Arendelle were a dark shadow in the distance, but they gained definition as both women approached. They didn’t draw a 90 degrees angle with the ground— rather, the earth elevated slowly, in bumps and rocky points, rising like a heavy breath towards the cliff’s foot. It was a rather secluded spot, where the snow didn’t hit as harshly. There they could rest until the time to search came again.

Yet Elsa had other plans. She toiled forward, along the cliff-wall, until the runestones came into view.

Blood-red lines coiled around the edges of a small stone plate, only half as tall as Anna herself. It protruded from near the foot of the cliff, high above. They exchanged a quick look.

“Can you read what it says?” Asked Elsa. Anna cringed thinking about her rune-reading skills.

“I can try?” She vacillated. Looking up, she read: “…Sif and Afvaldr erected this stone in memory of Nafni, son of Ulfarr, father of Afvaldr and husbandman of Sif, who met his end fighting the snow.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She saw Elsa grin from the corner of her eye.

“Anna,” she tugged at her hand. “Look.”

Anna followed the direction of Elsa’s finger, and saw extending into the distance a trail of stones with engravings on them. Small, big, at some points more spaced out than in others. They followed the length of the cliff-wall like a series of little stars, so tiny under the mountain’s shadow.

Anna’s throat tightened with emotion. 

She stepped towards the next stone. This one had a cross on it.

“Feykir and his daughter, Esja, had this stone raised in memory of Rjúpa, Feykir’s wife and Esja’s mother, who was taken by the wicked snow. May God help her spirit.”

This one was close enough to touch. Anna traced the edge of the cross with a finger. 

“How did you know this place?” She asked.

“Oh, you know.” Elsa shrugged. “This is my home.”

Many of the stones were cenotaphs, Elsa explained. No one was buried beneath this soil, but they might as well be, because each of these people, with names and loved ones, felt only a breath away.

“Bersa raised this stone in memory of Ilmr, her father’s sister. She was killed when trying to kill the snow.”

Anna’s breath grew heavier. She scrutinized these patterns, these strange writings, for several hours; they all dated to this wicked, living, killing snow.

Her heart vigorously pounded warm blood into her fingertips.

Then, she spotted a particular runestone. It was the greatest one of all, far away from the others, and it sported the same figure she’d seen only a day before; the Snow Queen with her arms towards the sky. Around her coiled a serpent with words on its skin.

In her blind excitement, Anna hastily climbed over rocks until she reached it. Elsa followed closely behind. 

“Do you know what it says?” Elsa asked when she reached her.

Anna squinted at the words. Its inscription was the longest she’d seen so far.

“It says… Agðar and Iðunn came from the south. It was with them that the snow came.” She stepped to the side, to read the following line. “It was their daughter that brought the evil, with which she could slay a hundred men in… Árnadalr? So… um… Crap. I don’t know what it says here.”

She turned around, expecting to find Elsa willing to lend a hand, but her expression was painted by an unexpected sadness.

Anna’s stomach sank a little.

“Elsa?”

Elsa lowered her head.

“It says they killed her,” she explained. Anna squinted.

“She was real?”

“So it seems.”

“The Snow Queen? No. That’s… too much even for Arendelle. Besides, vikings wrote a lot of weird stuff, right?”

“It’s what the stone tells.” Elsa pointed out. “I know I said it was only a tale last night, but…”

“Wait. Agðar and Iðunn?” Anna checked the names on the stone again. “Were they…? Oh, Elsa… She really was real. And her parents…”

“…Yes. Agðar and Iðunn were the names of the people who lived in the dig,” Elsa clarified.

“So, the Snow Queen… she…” Anna looked at the carvings in stone again. Despair seized her heart. “Oh, no, Elsa. She had a family. They… Oh, goodness…”

A family, yes, one the Snow Queen had missed very much, enough to raise a stone in their memory. To think about this loss, this pain that she thought she knew even if she wasn’t quite sure, tore her heart in half. 

Her eyes watered. 

“I don’t think she was a monster.”

There was… a long history of death and pain in that family, wasn’t it?.

She heard Elsa breathe behind her. 

“Anna, there’s…”

She dropped whatever it was she was about to say when she noticed the mist behind Anna’s eyes.

“I really hope I find my parents,” she murmured, then furiously rubbed her eyes. “D-did I ever tell you what happened to them?”

She could feel Elsa’s pain-stricken gaze on her.

“If that’s something you want to do, I’ll listen.”

Anna nodded. Her throat constricted. 

“There was a storm,” she recalled. “I don’t remember what happened very well. I-I can’t even remember their names, and my grandfather won’t tell me, and besides…”

“He won’t?”

“Yeah, so I think I got lost, because I couldn’t see them anywhere. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital. My grandfather adopted me afterwards.”

“But you’re the one searching for the bodies?”

“What can I say?” Anna shrugged and forced a crooked smile. “Guess he didn’t want to… unbury any painful memories.”

“He didn’t care to find his son?”

“…Or you could put it like that, too.” She wiped her eyes, looking down. “I think I’m beginning to understand him, though.”

Elsa squinted.

“How come?”

“Well…” She kicked the snow at her feet. “He told me once they’d left me in the snow. I like to think I actually got lucky, but I…” She shook her head. “I feel so selfish, Elsa. Like I want them to be dead, just so I can know they didn’t abandon me.”

“They didn’t,” Elsa blurted out with a thick voice. “Anna, your family loved you.”

“Then I shouldn’t be looking for them like this.”

Her voice sounded pathetic even to her.

She brought her hands together, and carefully leaned against Elsa.

“What are you going to do, then?”

She sucked in a ragged breath.

“I don’t know,” Anna admitted. “I don’t wanna go home. My grandfather…”

“Does he hurt you?”

“He’s never hit me.”

Elsa’s arm snaked around her waist.

“What will you do?” Anna then asked, trying to shift the attention from herself. “After the dig is over, I mean. You’ve lived your whole life here, right?”

“In a way.”

“Will you stay?”

That was a difficult question. Elsa could imply she’d leave her and neither of them would know, because Anna didn’t know what she’d do, either. Maybe she’d be the one to leave Elsa.

Elsa closed her eyes.

“I don’t know. Arendelle brings a lot of memories, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

Then Elsa lowered her gaze. Screwed her eyes shut. She pulled away from Anna and wrapped both arms around herself.

“Let’s just go back,” she said curtly. Anna’s heart weighed heavily in her chest— from thinking of her family, from thinking about the Queen, from this sudden rejection—, but she respected Elsa’s space. Had she done something to scare her away? Oh, she surely must have.

They climbed down from the hills even though Anna’s toes were freezing. The mountains made her feel hopeless but so did the sight of Arendelle, and with Elsa walking several feet before her, not even glancing back, Anna felt as though there was no respite from this tired heaviness. She wanted nothing but to curl into a ball and sleep. 

Just before they entered the town, Elsa stopped.

“Anna… listen.” She began. Her tone made Anna’s shoulders droop. “I-I can’t keep doing this. We can’t.”

Anna’s heart quivered.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean… this has to end.” She raised her shoulders to her ears. Avoided Anna’s eyes. “I-I’m sorry. Goodbye, Anna.”

Her heart cracked open. Anna shook her head.

“What? W-why?” She shouldn’t feel this surprised. “Did… did I do something? I’m so sorry if I did. Just…”

The pain behind Elsa’s eyes was indescribable.

“No.” She interrupted. “It wasn’t you. Just… please. I can’t say it right now.”

Anna wanted to reply (to scream, cry, seize her hands and not let go), but words failed her as Elsa turned her back to her and entered Arendelle.

As simple as that, Anna was alone. 

She didn’t begin to cry until Elsa was out of sight, like a pathetic little child. 

ᚼᛅᛁᛘᛦ•ᛅᚱᚾᚬᛏᛅᛚᛦ

During her last night in Arendelle, Anna dreamed of her sister.

Yes, she’d had a sister, and even though she didn’t remember her name or face she remembered she’d loved her, once. She remembered holding her hand and running in the snow, building snowmen and drinking chocolate with her. The affection and tenderness lingered after, as if carved on stone.

ᚼᛅᛁᛘᛦ•ᛅᚱᚾᚬᛏᛅᛚᛦ

"Anna, wait.”

Her breath and heart came to a halt. Turning around, she found her standing there, in her blue dress and gripping a rucksack. Her expression was both serious and desperate; pained. She raised a hand as if to grasp Anna’s.

“Oh. Elsa,” Anna blurted. The need to cover her face nearly overpowered her. “Uh… Hello.”

Elsa took her acknowledgment as a cue to come closer. Two long steps and a stare, just for a moment; and Anna understood she didn’t know what she was doing, either. Did she intend to apologize for being brusque? Her approach seemed to indicate so. It wouldn’t be unlike her. Anna was willing to accept and move on if that was the case, but truth was, she didn’t deserve an apology when she’d been the one in the wrong.

However, Elsa looked anything but angry.

Rather, her blue eyes drifted over to the ship in port; the sea. Her throat bobbed up and down.

“I suppose we’ll be leaving in the same ship,” she pointed out with a lopsided smile. Anna tried to smile back. 

“Yep. So it seems.”

“Though I believe we’re early,” continued Elsa. “I was wondering if you cared for a walk in town.”

Anna looked to the side. 

“Elsa, I… don’t know.”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she insisted. “I know. I know. Y-you don’t have to listen to me. But I promise I’ll explain everything, if you’ll have me.”

“Oh, Elsa, there’s nothing to explain,” Anna reassured her. “You just… don’t feel the same way I do. That’s normal. I’m not mad, you know.”

Elsa shook her head.

“That’s not it,” she insisted. “It's… more complicated than that. Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you this ever since I found you.” She wrung her hands together and looked down. “I just hope you’ll believe me when I’m done.”

Regret and desperation were draped over her posture like a heavy cloak, dragging her down. Even when hurt, Elsa still made her heart skip a beat with every gesture of kindness, and this one was no exception. Both her lovestruck haze and her intellectual curiosity compelled her to give Elsa a chance. 

She picked up her bag and extended her arms to the sides.

“I’m all ears.”

Elsa’s grin reminded her of why she loved her. 

“Really?”

“Yep! One-hundred-per-cent. Now, hurry up!”

Elsa sighed in relief. She placed a hand on her chest.

“Alright. Come with me.”

She led her out of the port and into town. Despite having spent the last few months in Arendelle, Anna wasn’t eager to revisit it, but it was different when she knew that’d be the last time she’d see it. She spotted the playground where she and her sister had played (her big sis always hugged her from behind when they went down the slide, because it wasn’t fun going alone), and saw the place where they bought cod and salmon on the weekends. The little kindergarten she’d attended had closed down, but the building still stood. Most streets hadn’t been paved. Mud stuck to her boots. The sky was still white and cold, the houses dull, and the people as austere and uncaring as they’d always been. 

“When I was little,” Elsa began. “My family and I were hiding from a very dangerous man. Of course, I didn’t know that until I was much older. At the time it all felt like a game of hide and seek. We left the mainland, and when that wasn’t enough, we went even further.” She gulped. “We crossed a line that night, and someone else suffered the consequences.”

Anna bit her lip but didn’t interrupt. She feared any disturbance may break the spell and chase Elsa away.

“Anna, what do you remember from the dig?”

“There was a family. With a kid. The Snow Queen. And… her parents died.” Anna recounted. “Is that it? You were reminded of your family?”

“…I was, yes,” replied Elsa. “Anna…”

Was that it? Had it been a dumb case of miscommunication? Of course! She’d been so stupid. Neither of them had been in the right place back then, but now they were, and they could sort out the problem. Perhaps, Elsa didn’t hate her.

Only then Anna realized they were standing before the old house.

Her stomach sank. Her breath hitched and a shiver ran down her spine, mouth hanging ajar. She stepped back.

“Oh, no,” she heard Elsa mumble. 

The house was still made of wood, although it had lost its color. Two stories. A window was broken and so was one of the steps leading up to the entrance. From inside came the smell of dust and rust and rot.

“Anna?”

She looked at Elsa, and couldn’t find the words to beg or cry or scream, but she didn’t need to because Elsa didn’t ask questions. She held her reluctant gaze for a moment and then she nodded, stepped forward, and took Anna’s hand. 

She managed to hold her composure and lead Elsa inside. 

The house had been empty for thirteen years, and it had collected dust and spiderwebs over time. It still felt like home, though. A cold fireplace, where Mama often sang to them, or the rocking chair by the windows, where Papa sat to tell bedtime stories.

Anna’s ribcage unlocked with force. She exhaled shakily and blinked the blurriness away.

Elsa was dreadfully silent, but her thumb caressed Anna’s knuckles. This gave her the strength to climb up the stairs towards her old bedroom. The window was so dirty, you could barely see at all. Nearly all the furniture was gone, save for a pitiful nightstand.

“Anna?”

Anna placed both palms on the nightstand and screwed her eyes shut.

“W-would you tell me about your family? Please?”

She did not have a family to embrace her but perhaps she could bask in the comfort of someone else’s warmth.

“My father was a physicist. My mother was a historian,” continued Elsa. “A-and I had a little sister. Even then, I loved her with everything I was.”

The drawer was stuck. Anna struggled with it.

“W-we never meant to leave her behind.” Elsa’s breathing was laborious. “But there was a blizzard; a small avalanche. And she got lost. We tried to go back for her but it was too late. We’d already reached the other side.”

The wood made a horrible rattling noise, but it eventually gave in under Anna’s strength.

“To this day I still don’t understand how such a thing could happen. We spent thirteen years trying to go back, a-and my parents didn’t make it. The people in town saw something in me. They feared me, and I never knew why. I-I didn’t mean to scare them. My parents tried to find a way back, but they—they didn’t make it. I-I took care of them myself. Gave them a proper…” her voice cracked horribly. “T-they deserved to see her again, yet only three years later the very same window opened itself to me. I didn’t cross it. In fact, it crossed over me.”

Inside the drawer was a single photo frame. Anna picked it in her trembling hands.

“Elsa…”

“I was happy. I was back, after so long. And then I found my little sister, too. I can’t describe the way I felt when I saw her again, all grown up after thirteen years.”

Anna traced a finger around her sister’s childish face on the frame’s glass.

“Elsa, I…”

“But then, I began to feel… something else. I thought I was just… happy to have her back, even if I hadn’t dared to tell her the truth. But I was wrong. What I felt… scared me. I wanted to be with her all the time, but I couldn’t stand to look at her face. I felt disgusting. I-I still do.”

Anna put the frame down, and studied her sister from head to toe. The same blue eyes, snow-like hair. The same gentle features but also the same inner strength her broken little mind still remembered. Her thoughts were no longer made of words; she couldn’t hear them over the blood pounding in her ears— her heart would jump out of her chest at any moment. They had all come to a halt as her brain processed Elsa’s words. Her sister. Her sister, who had been away for so long, who was now back, who had taken care of their parents’ burial alone and who still made Anna feel like the most loved person in the world.

Her heart made up its mind. She threw her arms around Elsa’s neck.

“Oh, Elsa…” she breathed, and choked back a sob. “You’re not disgusting. Please, don’t ever say that. I love you.”

Her sister. She was back, from beyond time. She was the same girl who tucked Anna into bed back then. She’d taken care of baby sheep yet she saw herself through monstrous lenses. The Snow Queen, in love with her little sister, who one day vanished from her farmstead and was never seen again. Who raised a stone in memory of their parents, for people hundreds of years later to remember them. This girl with a quivering body, holding Anna in her arms.

A tear ran down Anna’s cheek.

“I realized that, regardless of how I felt, I would lose you again if I didn’t tell you,” Elsa whispered. “That’s all that matters. We can forget about whatever it is that I feel. That’s alright by me.”

Anna shook her head against her sister’s shoulder.

“Well, g-good thing it doesn’t have to come down to that, right?” Anna chuckled wetly. She slowly pulled back, and found her sister’s hands in hers.

“Even now that you know the truth?” Elsa closed her eyes. “No. It isn’t right.”

“What are you talking about? Elsa, can’t you see? I love you. I… will need some time to wrap my head around this, but… All these years, I thought I was alone, b-but I wasn’t! You and Mama and Papa were always out there. You were even searching for me! A-and now I have you back, and… Oh my Goodness, I got my sister back… A-and she’s in love with me.”

Anna hesitated for only one second. For some reason, she could believe her, almost without trying. Her sister, yes, it wasn’t normal, but after walking across time and back– after losing her for so long, normal was out the window for her. She wouldn’t lose her, in one way or the other.

“I’m sorry.” Elsa murmured.

“What? Elsa, have you met you?” Anna spluttered, then laughed. “Not everyone is lucky enough to say their sister loves them this much.” She stood on tip-toes and pressed her lips to Elsa’s— her sister’s— her family’s. The warmth that spread inside her body felt natural, and it did so even more when a hand cupped the back of her neck. She pulled back after a moment. “We have time to figure things out, Elsa,” she said. “Y-you’ll come with me, right? You’ll give me a chance?”

Her sister’s eyes brimmed with tears. Her hand tucked a strand of red hair behind Anna’s ear. 

“I’m scared, Anna,” she admitted. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’ll stay with you. I promise.”

Anna grinned like a lovestruck fool.

“We’ll figure it out together,” she reassured her. Then a siren came from the port, echoing through Arendelle. They exchanged a smile. Anna stole one more peck before Elsa could speak.

“Are you satisfied? Shall we go now?” Elsa giggled.

They made it outside the house, and once outside, the brightness blinded Anna for an instant. When she inhaled the fresh ocean air, she felt as if she could float. The damp, heavy odor of the house no longer clung to her lungs. 

She looked back. The house hadn’t changed. Its wood was still colorless and empty of life. It was completely empty.

“Anna?”

Her sister stood next to her, more beautiful than she remembered. She looked at her with all the love in the world.

The siren blared again.

Large snowflakes swirled past them like a swarm of puffy hens. 

Anna grasped her sister’s hand.

“Come on,” she said. “It’s time to go.”

[sytycdinternational]

Eurovision 2021 Semi-final #1 Review

Strongest Semi-Final ever since I started watching this show. I’m fully prepared to lose faves.

1. The Roop - Discoteque - Lithuania 🇱🇹: Singing “There’ noone here, I feel safe to dance alone” in front of millions of viewers perfectly illustrates our current state of mass surveillance, change my mind. There were no major changes to their performance at the national final (why would there be when the underlying concept got them a record win at Pabandom iš naujo!), but the bigger stage definitely added another (violet/pinkish) dimension to it. I wouldn’t mind at all if the checkered flag background image forshadowed their win this year.

2. Ana Soklič - Amen - Slovenia 🇸🇮: Ana’s performance sucked me in like the black hole on the background screen at the start. Great gestures to enhance a rather static show and the staging, just wow. One half of planet earth on screen reflected on the floor, the big bang bursting beneath her feet at the climax, it was simply a presentation of galactic dimensions. I do wish her pronounciation was clearer, since every time I was tempted to sing along her words seemed to devolve into gibberish in my ears.

3. Manizha - Russian Woman - Russia 🇷🇺: DON’T BE AFRAID, DON’T BE AFRAID, DON’T BE AFRAID! OF MANIZHA TAKING THE WIN!!! Cause that’s where she’s headed for! That. Was. So. MINDBLOWING. It truly exceeded all my expectations. The charisma, the drive, the vocals, holy shit. I was close to bursting out in tears during the folklorish chanting segment. Like, there was just something swelling up in me that’s hard to describe. All while I’m head-banging like crazy. Perfect execution starting with the patchwork fabrics and clay art in the postcard melting my heart. Ana really had bad luck being stuck between two crazy (good) entries lol. 

4. Tusse - Voices - Sweden 🇸🇪: It seemed like Tusse was caught in a permanent state of crouching. Tbh I was warming up to the song, but then the key change happened and I just went nope. I think the song would have benefitted from incorporating the harmonica element at the start more. 

5. Montaigne - Technicolour - Australia 🇦🇺: The dancing condoms from Lena’s 2011 entry for Germany made an unexpected comeback. I feel so bad for Montaigne, especially now that it’s become apparent what a drawback not being able to perform on the real stage really is. Also, that “technicolor” effect every few moments did nothing but harm the entry.

6. Vasil - Here I Stand - North Macedonia 🇲🇰: Vasil seems to like rock-climbing, that interesting to know. It could not, however, prepare me for the disarmingly sincere performance that Vasil gave us. Nothing he’s singing is ground-breaking at all, but it’s the sum of its parts that makes it so special for me. How could I not fall for  someone who’s dedicating a song to his lover in front of all of Europe.

OMG I first thought Nikkie told Montaigne to stay away, instead of awake lmao.

7. Lesley Roy - Maps - Ireland 🇮🇪: I thought Jendrik’s entry was the most kindergarten-y entry this year, but clearly I was wrong. I think Lesley bit off more than she could chew. Poor thing was so visibly nervous I was almost having a nervous breakdown from all the anxious energy she was giving off. Also, was she crying at the end??

8. Elena Tsagrinou - El Diablo - Cyprus 🇨🇾:   Tomboy Elena is not what I expected from the postcard. Hmm, some of the more questionable lyrics (taco, tamale...) suddenly became a lot more difficult to ignore. Still, surprisingly strong vocals for how much Elena is moving around, so major props for that6. Elena Tsagrinou - El Diablo - Cyprus 🇨🇾:   Tomboy Elena is not what I expected from the postcard. Hmm, some of the more questionable lyrics (taco, tamale...) suddenly became a lot more difficult to ignore. Still, surprisingly strong vocals for how much Elena is moving around, so major props for that.

9. TIX - Fallen Angel - Norway 🇳🇴: The song gains another dimension when taking Efentix into account, doesn’t it... For some reason I don’t think this song got elevated by the new stage at all. 

10. Albina - Tick-Tock - Croatia 🇭🇷: I feel like accidently stumbled into a showing of the Starlight Express musical. I think I know what they were going for with the outfits but they made me go more aww than oof. Still fierce. In an endearing way. Which works btw. Also, some nice ideas like turning Albina into a quintuplet and her dancers raising her up above their heads. Damn, her being all excited to be on stage at the end was super cute.

11. Hooverphonic - The Wrong Place - Belgium 🇧🇪: I think I’d have preferred an even darker song if that’s the attire they wanted to go for. In the end I really think they were in the wrong place.

12. Eden Alene - Set Me Free - Israel 🇮🇱: I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an unnecessary outfit change. I really like how Eden went for a warmer tone for the beginning before turning up the sass. I love what she did with her hair. Queen vibes. Also, my favorite dance choreography so far, the guys can get it.

13. ROXEN - Amnesia - Romania 🇷🇴: It really feels like she’s lost herself, including her voice. Okay, that was mean. Dancing while executing such an intricate stage choreography can’t be easy. Still, I think Finland got upstaged when it comes to edge factor. I was not sure, but then the font on screen last-minute basically confirmed it.

14. Efendi - Mata Hari - Azerbaijan 🇦🇿: It’s official, the true successor of “Fuego” has emerged. Elena who? Albina who? Efendi slays them all. All hail the snake goddess from the orient who ensnared millions of men in her pit this very night. Whoever came up with the ring-around-the-rosy circle dance is a god damn genius. So many circle elemnts too like the revolving flower pattern on the floor, the golden pear and the revolving fireball of doom turning into an all-seeing eye at the end. I’m positively hypnotized. 

15. Go_A - SHUM - Ukraine 🇺🇦: Kateryna’s piercing eyes stare right into my soul. Not sure if I’m in the mood for some winter vibes but interesting cyber-druid look. Is that what people mean by technopagans?

16. Destiny - Je Me Casse - Malta 🇲🇹: I’ll definitely add this catchphrase to my dictionary.

Ranking: Obsessing over #1-2, adore #3-6,  really like #6-10

Manizha - Russian Woman - Russia 🇷🇺

Efendi - Mata Hari - Azerbaijan 🇦🇿

The Roop - Discoteque - Lithuania 🇱🇹

Go_A - SHUM - Ukraine 🇺🇦

Vasil - Here I Stand - North Macedonia 🇲🇰

Albina - Tick-Tock - Croatia 🇭🇷

Eden Alene - Set Me Free - Israel 🇮🇱

Destiny - Je Me Casse - Malta 🇲🇹

Elena Tsagrinou - El Diablo - Cyprus 🇨🇾

Ana Soklič - Amen - Slovenia 🇸🇮

Montaigne - Technicolour - Australia 🇦🇺:

Tusse - Voices - Sweden 🇸🇪

ROXEN - Amnesia - Romania 🇷🇴:

Hooverphonic - The Wrong Place - Belgium 🇧🇪:

TIX - Fallen Angel - Norway 🇳🇴

Lesley Roy - Maps - Ireland 🇮🇪

Prediction of who’s not going to the finale:

Australia

Belgium

North Macedonia

Romania

Ireland

Slovenia

Nikkie dragging past Eurovision entires lmaoooo. The audacity. And of course they had to put Duncan’s ass shot into the promotion video I’m diiiieing. I don’t know what a double platinum disc is but I didn’t think someone would get it randomly handed to without pre-announcement.

Aaaand I was right except for Croatia instead of Belgium. Damn, that kinda hurts. But in terms of staging it had the least effective staging among the many bops in this semi-final so it makes sense in retrospect.

[eurotastic]

Eurovision reviews: Semi 1

Today’s the day, Eurovision is finally back! This is a special year for the competition in so many ways, but what stands out to me is the overall quality of the songs - I genuinely think it’s higher than ever. Semi final 1 is going to be a bloodbath, and I really feel that the songs that NQ will only do so because the competition is too strong, not because the NQ songs are bad or did anything wrong.   

Note that this post is song reviews only, based on my personal music preferences and opinions on staging - I will write separate posts predicting which songs will qualify for the grand final.   

Lithuania: The Roop-Discoteque

I was excited too see what The Roop would do after giving us On Fire last year, and they really outdid themselves. They have elevated their act in every way: The song has better lyrics and production, and their yellow stage costumes are instantly iconic. Also, the dancing this year is less based in pre-existing meme dances, which really makes the performance stand on its own. I love love love this.

10/10

Slovenia: Ana Soklič - Amen

She has a really beautiful deep voice and that’s about the only interesting thing going on here. 

3/10

Russia: Manizha - Russian Woman

After a short but eventful stay in America, Tutar Sagdiyev returns to Kazakhstan with her brand new feminist manifesto! . Borat jokes aside, this is absolutely amazing. I love the folk punk energy, I love how she’s just talking in the verses, and I love how clearly she gets her point across even though most viewers  won’t understand a word of the Russian lyrics. 

10/10

Sweden: Tusse - Voices

I’m conflicted because on one hand I think Tusse is amazing, on the other hand I know he can do much better than this. Tusse is a potential Eurovision winner, but this song is not really showing off how bright his personality is. I still think it’s a super well made song, but not the most exciting. 

6/10

Australia: Montaigne - Technicolour

It’s very Marina and the Diamonds circa 2010, which is cool. However, Montaigne looks absolutely terrified when she sings and it’s making me a little uncomfortable. The whole thing just feels shaky, even if the song itself is pretty unique.

6/10

North Macedonia: Vasil - Here I Stand

Do I really have to talk about this one? This is a bathroom break song.

Ireland: Lesley Roy - MAPS

I get what she’s going for, it’s feels very Castle on the hill by Ed Sheeran (his least horrible song), and it’s nice. Not great, just nice. I really thing the chorus needs work, it’s way too repetitive for this kind of song.At least the staging is ambitious.

5/10 

Cyprus: Elena Tsagrinou - El Diablo

She’s literally singing about how she wants to fuck Satan. Have we seen a sexy excorcism (a sexorcism) on the Eurovision stage before?

10/10

Norway: TIX - Fallen Angel

I don’t understand this at all but I think I love it. You know this will be the biggest meme of the year, and I love that for Norway. As great as this is, I think the staging is doing all the heavy lifting, the song just sounds like a mainstream pop song that really needs exceptional staging to elevate it. Luckily for TIX, this staging really is exceptional.

8/10

Croatia: Albina - Tick-Tock

In any other year, this would probably be a standout. It’s upbeat and modern, and I love how it switches languages for the last refrain. Not my favorite by any means, but definitely fun.

6/10  

Belgium: Hooverphonic - The Wrong Place

This feels like it belongs far away from Eurovision - I can see it being played in a smoky jazz club full of middle aged academics. I think this song is great, and from what I’ve seen the staging is absolutely beautiful, in a really subdued and tasteful way. 

8/10   

Israel: Eden Alene - Set Me Free

I have very little to say about this except that it’s a bop, Eden has stellar vocals and awesome looks, and I can’t wait to hear that whistle note. Nothing revolutionary, but a lot of fun nonetheless. 

7/10

Romania: ROXEN - Amnesia

This is like if Billie Eilish didn’t have a personality or a sense of humor. I get what she’s going for, but it’s all teenage angst and I’m just too old too be into that. Also, it’s hard to get excited about this knowing that there’s a way better Billie derivative coming up in semi 2.  3/10 

Azerbaijan: Efendi - Mata Hari

This might be an unpopular opinion but I think this is a way better song than Cleopatra. I mean, it’s basically the exact same song, but I like this version way better. However, the fact that this song only exists because they needed a replacement for Cleopatra is leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Still, this song is a bop, albeit in a really mindless way.  7/10

Ukraine: Go_A - Shum

I loved Go_A from the first second I heard Solovey last year, and they did not disappoint when coming back for 2021. This is just the most unique, stunning music I have ever heard in my life, no excaggeration. This is why I love Eurovision so much, because I know music like this would be nearly impossible for me to stumble upon on my own, but here it is being shown to millions of viewers. I’m just in awe of this whole thing. All hail the witch queen of Chernobyl. 11/10

Malta: Destiny - Je Me Casse

This is like a europop song by Lizzo and I really appreciate it. I definitely prefer this over Destiny’s song from last year, which made her feel like a fourth member of The Mamas (The Daughter? The Niece?). This song is so upbeat and so energetic, and I think it feels way more fitting for someone who’s only 18. She gets to use her amazing voice while also having a fun time, and I think that’s how you win this. 

8/10

[kshitij1997]

Hi everyone!

Hmm, so I have introduced a lot of the main characters already in my fanfic. Here’s a short summary of what defines each character, if people don’t fancy reading the whole story, or are confused by who’s what. Also added some characters not introduced yet, titbits and many future plot points.

 

Runeard:- Ruthless, oppressive tyrant whose destructive actions against the Northurldra are the lynchpin of the epic, and will affect Elsa, Olva(Original Character) and Anna decades down the line as they effect Agnarr and Iduna presently.

Agnarr and Iduna:- The present king and queen of Arendelle(Stand-in for Norway and Sweden). They are presently in marital and familial bliss as they have just welcomed Olva in the family, just 14 and a half months after Elsa was born. They’ll be put to the ultimate test of their lives soon enough.

Reginald and Sophia:- The present king and queen of Corona(Stand-in for Prussia) and close friends of Agnarr and Iduna. Princess Sophia hails from Austria-Hungary, from the Habsburg clan. Their union has made them the dominant power couple in Central Europe. Alas their child, princess Eva Rapunzel has been kidnapped. They have spent a massive amount of their personal wealth on finding their daughter, building the kingdom’s strength through alliances throughout Europe, but to no avail.

Princess Eva Rapunzel:- Feared dead. There have been rumours of sightings in the small islands near Northern Cyprus in the present-day Ottoman empire, however the ships sent to navigate the region seldom come back, and the Ottomans are not too keen on helping Corona, ever since relations soured between the two when the Monarchs of Serbia were brutally assassinated. There are some disputable stories that claim that she may have the ability to grant life. (May have a fascination with the human body and healing and treating people.)

Flynn:- Some very murky details on this one. An orphaned street rat who at one point supposedly ran the most profitable dodge racket criminal empire in the Rhinelands with fellow partner in crime, Markus. With Markus gone, Flynn is on the run, a warrant out against him where he has been charged with the burning of the Mansion, a very important monument to Corona.

Princess Elsa:- The heir apparent to the throne of Arendelle, and the first-born daughter of Agnarr and Iduna. Blessed with powers over Ice, she may be destined for greatness, or great pain, whatever makes the mythical hero’s sacrifice count. May have problems with self-worth, self-pity, anxiety, depression and emotional distance from her loved ones.

Princess Olva:- The second-in-line for the throne, a feisty kid with an academic bent, cares deeply for her family. May experience trauma from an accident, in order to recover from said trauma, she may take the supernatural path destined for her. Unlike Elsa, she tries to live in the real world. She may not suffer from anxiety issues, but there may be problems with rage, bitterness, pain and obsessive tendencies.

Princess Anna:- Soon to be youngest child of the Arendellian Monarchs, she is happy go lucky, loves her family and is outdoorsy. Which does not mean that she doesn’t have dark secrets of her own. She may struggle with abandonment, trying to reconnect with those she lost. She wears her heart on her sleeve. Her innocence may be endearing to some, but the same quality renders her a target for the world. Despite all that, she tries to be courageous for those she cares for the most.

Prince Hans/Janus:- The fated prince thirteenth in line for the throne, he may have an enormous responsibility entrusted upon him by his imposing mother. Is trying to find peace, may be a people pleaser but values freedom and joy over everything. May go to any length to achieve his desires. If not freedom, then power for sure. His heart may be driven towards the ocean.

The Northurldra:- The largest minority in the kingdom of Arendelle. The Northurldra and southern Arendelle have been at loggerheads since the middle ages, but in recent history, the divide has been deepened when Runeard waged war against them. With the mist splitting the north from the south, the Northurldra have fallen on desperate times and must resort to piracy and smuggling. Growing resentment against the crown of Arendelle may lead to assassination attempts or might even lead to all-out war.

Kristoff:- Not yet introduced in the story, but he is from a family of commoners with a trusty reindeer friend he calls Sven. His family cuts and sells ice for a living. After a nasty incident with some border bandits from the north, he’s left alone in the wilderness where the clan of the rock hermits find him and take him in.

Grand Pabbie:- The patriarch of the rock hermit clan, he is a being of half rock and half human flesh and blood, with vines and moss in place of hair. A supernatural being possessing great ancient powers, he is the curator and guardian of the Arendellian wilderness. Every winter, he goes deep into meditation in order to appease the gods to keep the winters forgiving. Knows past, present and future, but sternly believes in letting things take their course and not intervening with fate and destiny.

Queen Paulina Karazmov:- The sixth and present wife of the king of the Southern Isles, she is bitter about the loss of the kingdom of Poland, which was her ancestral homeland. She hopes to see Poland rise from the ashes, even if she must sacrifice her son Janus, also known as Hans by his father, the king.

King Christian the eighth of the Southern Isles (stand-in for Denmark):- The present king of the Southern Isles, the king is in his late middle age, father to thirteen children. He is confident that his large family could help gain control in Europe and wrest the supremacy from the Habsburgs.  Little does he fathom or know; he might be nursing a succession crisis in his wake.

Tsar Alexander the first of Russia:- The sovereign of the Russian empire, the Tsar conquered Napoleon, but is in his twilight years. Seen as a respectable presence in Europe, he has often played the peacemaker. Alas, he is childless & on his way out and his two brothers are not very keen on succeeding him. One due to the huge responsibility, and the other due to fear, even though the fear is disguised as military discipline.

The Duke of Weselton (Stand-in for Belgium):- Considered a gangster among royals, he rules with an iron fist, forever subjugating and trying to weasel out a deal that makes him prosperous. At one point a staunch ally of Arendelle, he has had a falling out with Iduna and Agnarr over a dispute of sovereignty. Now he lies in wait, akin to a viper in the grass, whilst indulging himself with Opium and Marijuana, ready to strike and sink the treacherous kingdom of Arendelle.

The British and the French:- The two great powers who sit and watch the whole drama play out, eager to switch sides on a whim, wherever their interests were better served. Bitter rivals throughout history, they have now come to a strained, mutual understanding of peace.

What do you guys think?

[leavingcertnightmares]

Shakespeare uses an array of dramatic techniques to convey a world of corruption and deceit in his drama ‘Hamlet’

The metaphoric and symbolic complexity of Shakespeare’s tragedies is perhaps what he is best known for. Outside his great drama and fascinating characterisation, the imagery and dramatic techniques used ensures these masterpieces live on centuries after his death. In studying ‘Hamlet’ I was fascinated by the use of the supernatural as well as theatre, and the imagery of sickness and poison. It is, however, the use of an anti-hero/anti-villain, the depiction of a world of greys instead of black and white morality, that sets Shakespeare’s work aside from the very popular Elizabethan revenge tragedies.

Shakespeare continuously subverts expectation by shirking the idea of any truly good or evil characters existing in the world of Elsinore. Both of the main characters display a depth uncharacteristic of the hero/villain they are meant to be representing. This lack of a ‘good vs evil’ plot that is so central to what audiences have come to expect, paints a picture of a corrupted society with uncomfortably ambiguous morals. 

The audience expects to be hailing Hamlet as the hero of the story, but as the play progresses he provides many examples of villainy and indecisiveness. His treatment of Ophelia for example, in act 3 scene 1 is downright cruel. ‘Wise men know well what monsters you make of them’. He treats his mother with the same cruelty in act 3 scene 4. With his accusations of murder and incest he denounces female frailty and unchastity and makes known his horrified sense of the consequences of marraige. ‘Frailty thy name is woman’. ‘Thou turn’st mine eyes into my very soul, and there I see such black and grained spots’. After Hamlet’s many displays of misogyny and procrastination, the audience cannot be sure if his intentions are heroic or not. He is deceitful and weak-willed, two decidedly villainous traits, and is the epitome of an anti-hero.

Claudius too breaks away from the role of villain at times and cannot be treated as wholly evil. Although he is guilty of murder and does many awful deeds, one has to consider his initial introduction as a brilliant king who is well loved by the people of Elsinore. He balances the grief of a kingdom along with the threat of war with Norway. One of the most impactful scenes with Claudius is act 3 scene 3, the prayer scene. He expresses genuine guilt for his actions ‘Forgive me my foul murder’, and shows that he does have a moral compass. He shows true complexity when he weighs up being forgiven over giving up the fruits of his crimes ‘My crown, mine own ambition and my queen’. And the moment he decides against repenting for his sins is the moment he is truly corrupted. Shakespeare crafts Claudius into the perfect embodiment of an anti-villain whom the audience cannot completely turn against. Afterall one of the biggest tragedies is when someone can be good, but chooses to be bad. This technique of portraying morally grey characters is one of the most influential in conveying the corrupted, deceitful nature of the drama but is not the only one.

 Shakespeare uses the Ghost not only as a plot device but as a symbol of the inherit corrupt nature of Danish society. The Ghost plays a hugely important role in the play as he is the first evidence that ‘something is rotten in the state of Denmark’. He effectively captures the audience from the beginning when he is classed as a ‘dreaded sight’. The Ghost of King Hamlet introduces the theme of corruption and deception. It shows deep disturbances in the kingdom, ‘bodes eruption to our state’, which shows the audience that this is not a regular occurrence in Elsinore. 

Hamlet’s dead father is the catalyst for change, and it is his dramatic revelations that get the play underway.  The revelations about ‘the serpent that did sting thy father’s life’ allow the audience to join the dots and understand that it is indeed Claudius who is the snake in question. Hamlet’s problem with his mother is confirmed when the Ghost speaks of ‘his shameful lust that will of my most seeming virtuous queen’, which gives the audience an opportunity to form an opinion about Gertrude. However, the task of vengeance imposed on his son intensifies his suffering. Shakespeare proves how filial duty is of utmost importance to the young prince. He is fully aware of the corruption that infects the monarchy, he knows being loyal to his father is the only way to stop this vicious circle.

The Ghost also forces the other characters to question Hamlet’s sanity. When he returns to ‘To whet thy blunted purpose’ during the closet scene, Gertrude cannot see the Ghost of her husband past. She can only see her crazy and disturbed son. We are almost unsure what is and isn’t deceptive at this point. This phantom works as a narrative exposition, he sets the theme of deception and corruption from the moment he enters the play and gives Hamlet a sense of purpose.

Another core technique used in the play is Imagery. There is a running motif throughout of sickness and poison. The play begins and ends with poison which lends a cyclical quality to it. Claudius is referred to by the Ghost as a ‘serpent’, an animal not only a fitting symbol of poison but whose biblical connections associate it solely with deceit and corruptness.

 All characters who die in the tragedy die of one fatal flaw. Polonius of interference in the business of others, Hamlet of indecisiveness. That is the nature of poison, it is slow-acting, targets weakness, and ultimately corrupts. 

The consistent view of Denmark throughout is of a society that is infected or dying, ‘Something is rotten in the state of Denmark’. Even the events of the play are diseased, ‘Oh to my sick soul’, ‘Quick of the ulcer’, ‘canker’. This image of sickness combined with the image of poison creates a sense of inevitability, a foreboding atmosphere, if Elsinore is sick then its unavoidable death will soon follow.

A technique that also contributes to this corrupt society is Shakespeare's use of Theatre and Acting. There are no characters, with the exception of Horatio, that are completely honest. In fact, deception plays such a huge role in the drama, that the audience can only be sure a character is giving their true thoughts in asides and soliloquies. Shakespeare uses this technique both in grand, obvious ways, such as the Mousetrap, as well as more subtle ways. It is a constant throughout the play, present in almost every scene. Hamlet’s antic disposition, the most major example of theatre, blurs the line of acting and true madness until the audience is sure of nothing, and can trust no one.

 And just as the audience is getting used to questioning everything, Shakespeare presents a scene, the only scene, that is completely devoid of acting.

The arrival of the actors. Hamlet is shocked into dropping all pretences for a moment around those he believes he can trust. ‘My excellent good friends’. The appearance of Rosencranz and Guildenstern brings out the jovial sociable side of Hamlet. In this scene Shakespeare uses the dramatic technique of theatre as a composer might use silence. When a movie has an amazing, emotional score the whole way through, composers will often have one scene with no music at all. This draws attention to it. In allowing the audience to feel an absence of what we expect, it draws attention to the moment. Shakespeare, using the absence of a major theme in this scene, expertly calls attention to its huge presence in the rest of the play.

The facades and acting of all the characters in Elsinore create an image of a crooked, dishonest kingdom, that relies so heavily on deceit that ‘to be honest is to be one man picked out of a thousand’.

The world of deception and corruption evoked by Shakespeare is effectively brought to life through the use of the moral ambiguity, the supernatural, imagery, and theatre. These techniques bring this world to life for the audience and help them to deeply understand the themes and characters of the play. The play would be much less compelling and would lack depth. I personally think that the masterpiece that is Hamlet is thought provoking because of all of the hidden techniques Shakespeare effectively used to evoke the world of deception and corruption.                H1 Standard: 95%

[kickdownthewalls]

TOP 20 ROCK/METAL ALBUMS OF 2019

Been looking back at the list I made last year and it is hard to say if 2019 was better or not. I feel like, if nothing else, there were fewer let-downs and more out-of-the blue surprises, so I guess that means it was an improvement. For anyone who says there are no good metal albums coming out these days, I say they just need to dig a little. So many great bands have been forming in recent years and started looking back to the origins of metal before death and black metal ruled the world. Since that was the era I grew up in, it isn’t too surprising that a lot of my choices this year hark back to earlier times. Case in point…

20. BEWITCHER - Under the Witching Cross 

First up is one of many bands to put a modern spin on a retro sound and this one is even from the PNW (Portland). In this case, the most obvious comparison is early Venom. “Hexenkrieg” even has a chorus like “Acid Queen” and a bridge straight outta “1000 Days in Sodom.” Lyrically, Bewitcher may be even more primitive, with lots of references to Satan, goats, and witching of all sorts. Musically, however, they do show some real diversity and skills, mixing up lightning-fast tunes with slower, pounding metal. No sophomore slump here, thank Satan.

19. INCULTER - Fatal Visions

Norway is starting to establish itself as a home for raw and brutal old-school thrash metal, with the likes of Condor, Deathhammer, and Nekromantheon delivering some wildly OTT albums in recent years. Inculter are a bit newer but really impressed with their debut in 2015 and are back with an even more lethal release in 2019. The riffing is relentless, although the band does do a good job of mixing up the tempos throughout. Still, fast thrash with touches of early Sodom and Sepultura is the core of Inculter’s sound and it is the perfect soundtrack for getting out your aggression here at civilization’s end. 

18. MIDNIGHT PRIEST - Aggressive Hauntings

I’ve been following this Portuguese outfit since their debut nearly a decade ago and have seen a solid increase in songwriting and production, along with a solidification of style. Many bands have stolen King Diamond’s sound and style, but Midnight Priest use it as a jumping-off point into a realm of their own. The vocals cover a great range with theatrical lyrics of hauntings, convents, and candles, while the music is firmly in the classic 80s vein with some wildly catchy riffs that remind me as much of Priest and Accept as they do King and Fate. 

17. FATAL CURSE - Breaking the Trance

Hailing from the middle of upstate New York, this power trio has more in common with their NWOBHM-loving brethren across the northern border than they do most US bands. Fortunately, they pull it off with the effortlessness only a group of dyed-in-the-wool fans of the music can. Songs like “Can’t Stop the Thunder” and the title track overflow with pure, punchy energy that reminds me of the heyday of Diamond Head and Jaguar. It’s a short but power-packed debut that bodes well for the band’s future. 

16. BABYMETAL - Metal Galaxy

Although this might seem out of place, I’ve always had a love for electronic dance music and this is the best combination of metal and dance I’ve heard yet. While the first two Babymetal records had a cool sound, they felt kind of samey and it was hard to really remember any of the individual tracks. Not so here. “Da Da Dance” is pure anime energy, while “Shanti Shanti Shanti” incorporates Indian instrumentation and melodies and “Oh! MAJINAI” can only be called a pirate anthem. Even “PA PA YA!!” with its rap bridge totally rocks. Some folks are turned off by ‘manufactured’ bands like this, which I totally get, but I’m more interested in the results and “Metal Galaxy” is a really solid, diverse album that I’ve come back to many times already. 

15. IRON GRIFFIN - Curse of the Sky

Finland is apparently the world’s capitol of metal (most bands per capita) and represents all types well. Iron Griffin is a thoroughly original and enjoyable mix of 70s occult and hard rock, early USPM, and classic epic metal. The production is nice and organic, with each instrument shining through, especially the bass. Vocalist Maija Tiljander can deliver the mellow and screaming parts with equal panache, while all of the instruments are handled by Oskari Räsänen (drummer of the divine Mausoleum Gate). If you enjoyed their EP, this album is 100% better and that is saying something. 

14. VIGILANCE - Enter the Endless Abyss

Haven’t heard too many Slovenian heavy metal bands (Hellcats is the only other one I can think of), but Vigilance is quite impressive in both delivery and originality. Their style is a fairly complex mix of classic, speed, and black metal. The riffing is solid, with plenty of Maiden-esque harmonies to be had, while the vocals are gruff in the vein of Amok-era Sentenced. Every song is a bit of a journey, without being overblown, and it makes for a very satisfying album experience. 

13. TANITH - In Another Time

After being blown away by their performance at Frost & Fire IV, I was very pleased to see Tanith sign with Metal Blade and release a killer debut. Trying to describe the band’s sound is difficult, as they incorporate a lot of different elements. There is a definite 70s vibe and some early prog-rock influences at work, with complex song structures that thankfully never get self-indulgent. The blending of male and female clean vocals is another highlight and both work remarkably well with the melodic riffs. The bass playing is also worth noting, as it winds its way through each song in perfect counterpoint to whatever the guitar happens to be doing. Bonus points for writing a song about the Cassini probe and its journey to Saturn.

12. ATLANTEAN KODEX - The Course of Empire

When I hear the term ‘epic metal,’ this is exactly what comes to mind. It incorporates the most grandiose elements of bands like Manowar, Bathory, and Solstice, but Atlantean Kodex somehow take it to the next level. This isn’t a collection of catchy songs, it is a weighty opus that you need to sit back and let cascade over you. It has been six years since their last record but you can definitely hear the time was well-spent and great care taken to craft each song just so. Although it doesn’t surpass The White Goddess in grandeur, it is close behind. 

11. SUICIDAL ANGELS - Years of Aggression

Greek thrash very much in the vein of the classics from ’88-’90. Solid production, straightforward but great riffing, and a wide range of tempos. There are songs that swing back and forth between fast and slow, some that are mid-tempo throughout, etc. I love that Suicidal Angels sound like they are equally influenced by the Germans and Bay Area thrashers equally, with nods to outliers like Sepultura and Artillery as well. The band tends to sound pretty much the same from album to album, and that is true here as well, but it feels like this is one of the best collection of songs they have put together yet. 

10. POUNDER - Uncivilized

Here is another great US band, this time formed by some death metal merchants looking to do something a bit more traditional. Pounder really do a great job covering all the bases and Uncivilized overflows with catchy riffs and melodies, anthemic choruses, and a great deal of diversity. Speed metal like “Red Hot Leather” is followed by a power ballad in the form of the AOR-tinged “Long Time No Love” and both are excellent. Shades of Rainbow permeate tracks like “The Mists of Time” and “Uncivilized.” Early Pretty Maids is a good reference point for the styles covered and the gruff but melodic vocals. Stellar debut and I’m really hoping the band forges on as I think there a great deal of potential here for even better work. 

9. TOXIKULL - Cursed and Punished

This one almost slipped under my radar but glad I managed to hear it. This is the stunning sophomore release from Portugal’s Toxikull and is prime power/speed metal with searing vocals and some of the best change-ups and most memorable choruses of the year. Imagine Judas Priest’s Painkiller with more modern production and even more adrenaline and you have a pretty good idea of what to expect. Clocking in at just over a half hour, this is a solid album that never disappoints. 

8. DESTRUCTION - Born to Perish

Destruction was never my favorite of the German thrashers but I still enjoyed most of their albums, even if they started to sound pretty much the same shortly after the reunion in 2000. I felt like something was different with this new one, as the opening snare drum assault of the title track got stuck in my head almost immediately. The overall style is still very much modern, thrashy Destruction, but there seems to be a little more melody overall and the songs feel more thought-out and memorable. It is always heartwarming to hear a band releasing one of their strongest albums this far into their career. Now we just need a US tour… 

7. MYSTIK - Mystik

Another release that I nearly missed out on is Mystik, who hail from Sweden and pack a real wallop of melodic speed metal with compelling vocals and strong choruses. The production is that perfect balance between pro and underground and gives the music a really timeless feeling. This is another short album that gets to the point and delivers, song after song. The vocals remind me a bit of early Warlock and Acid, while the music has a darker edge and the two complement each other to a T.

6. ROTTING CHRIST - The Heretics

These Greek pioneers have really walked a wide-ranging path over the years, from raw black metal to polished gothic metal, and on into uncharted realms where those elements and more all come together in sublime fashion. There is a truly epic quality to the songs on The Heretics, even with all of the songs being in the 3-5 minute range. Gruff vocals are juxtaposed with clean backing vocals and chanted choruses, with the music covering equally diverse ground. A work of startling, dark beauty and possibly my favorite Rotting Christ record to date.

5. VULTURE - Ghastly Waves & Battered Graves

This is pure German speed metal, with frantic yet melodic riffs, relentless drums, and piercing vocals. Bands like Ranger and Speedtrap brought the sound back to life a few years back and Vulture really take it to the next level. The aggression and rawness is still intact, with nods to early Exodus, but there is a keen sense of melody and strong songwriting that runs throughout the record. Plus, possibly the best album title of the year.

4. AVATARIUM - The Fire I Long For While

I have always enjoyed Avatarium’s records, this is the first time that it feels like the band has really come into its own and produced a remarkable piece of art in the process. The heavy, doomy riffs are still plentiful, but there is a deeper resonance to the melodies and riffs than ever before. The powerful vocals of Jennie-Ann Smith take the center seat, but the increased use of organ and fuzz-heavy guitars and bass really rounds out the sound. The shift from 100% Leif Edling-penned songs to the majority coming from Smith and guitarist Marcus Jidell also no doubt lends to the more unique character of The Fire I Long For (though I must say that “Epitaph of Heroes” would be right at home on Ancient Dreams). 

3. DEATH ANGEL - Humanicide

As much as I love many bay area thrash bands, I think Death Angel have secured themselves as my all-time favorite. Their first three albums are timeless and the albums since the reunion have been close behind. The worst thing I can say about any of the records is that they are good but maybe not as memorable as the ones before (notably The Evil Divide and Killing Season). Humanicide is probably my favorite since The Art of Dying, with a wide range of styles, memorable choruses, and the artistic blend of rough and polished that Death Angel does so well. 

2. SOILWORK - Verkligheten 

It has been a while since I’ve paid that much attention to Soilwork and now I wonder if I’ve been missing out because this album is a monster. The combination of styles here, from melodic death metal with blastbeats to 80s metal to frantic thrash is intoxicating and executed so perfectly, the album just blows right by. “Full Moon Shoals” exemplifies the range perfectly, with one of the best bridges I’ve heard in ages. It feels like Bjorn’s involvement in the retro-minded Night Flight Orchestra has helped to give Soilwork a broader sound as well as a tighter focus on crafting the songs into something more than just a collection of riffs. Even the bonus Underworld EP is consistently strong, while many bands would just toss their throwaway tracks on such a release. For a band’s 11th album, Verkligheten is not just above average but near the top of the band’s best works, period. 

1. SACRED REICH - Awakening 

Sacred Reich was one of the brightest stars of the late 80s thrash wave, with a strong debut and a timeless follow-up, but, like so many others, they lost their way in the 90s and eventually disbanded. Although it took the band 23 years to finally get their comeback record out, damn, it was totally worth the wait. Everything that I love about Sacred Reich is here: speedy riffs mixed with chugging mosh parts, a hypnotic rhythm section, Phil’s one-of-a-kind vocal assault, and every song a winner. Even “Death Valley,” which I didn’t care much for on first spin, has grown on me with its groovy, stoner vibe. The timing couldn’t be more perfect for Sacred Reich’s heartfelt, socially-conscious lyrics, too, and Awakening is hopefully just that: the dawn of a whole new era for OD and tha Reich! 

There may not have been any big-name releases this year, but the underground came through with a ton of brilliant new releases. Narrowing down my list to 20 was more difficult than ever this year and I’d like to mention several other bands that nearly made the list: ALCEST, ANGEL WITCH, APHRODITE, BARBARIAN, CALYX, CRYPT SERMON, DEMON HEAD, EXCUSE, HAUNT, HELLISH GRAVE, KRYPTOS, LUCIFERA, METAL INQUISITOR, ROCK GODDESS, SANHEDRIN, SCREAMER, SMOULDER, and SPIRIT ADRIFT. Definitely check out any and all of these albums, preferably on Bandcamp where you can also buy them.

With so many smaller and retro-minded bands hitting the scene this year, there were also plenty of demos, EPs and 7” singles. Among the best: BEASTMAKER, CIRITH UNGOL DENIAL OF GOD, GALAXY, HAUNT, MIDNIGHT DICE, MIDNIGHT SPELL, SHADOW WARRIOR, SOLICITOR, SOURCE, THE NIGHT ETERNAL, TYRANN, and VISIGOTH. GALAXY in particular has the potential to really be something special and I can’t wait for their next release.

Will 2020 top this year? Hard to say, but there are plenty of promising releases on the way from SODOM, HELLOWEEN, DELAIN, NIGHTWISH, DARK ANGEL, and LUCIFER. Maybe MEGADETH will surprise us with a worthy comeback, too, you never know. It will be a chaotic year for the world, no doubt, so we are going to need some good, solid metal releases to help us cope. Horns up!

[hail-kattegat]

Imagine: Ivar helping you to give birth.

Let me know if you want to be tagged! xx.

Gif credit: @vikingsinuppsala

Requested by: Anonymous.

Warning: None.

Ivar might break a bone but he will never break a promise. And he proved it to you one more time when he married you as soon as he became King of Kattegat. The two of you were the perfect opposite, but it was undeniable that you were perfectly completing each other. You always thought that your live truly began the day you met Ivar. You used to be a slave in Sweden until the day the Queen made you a Free Woman after you saved her son’s life. You grown up fascinating by the stories of Ragnar Lothbrok the poets told during feasts, so the first thing you did to start your new life was taking a boat to Kattegat. It didn’t take long for the people to notice your arrival. You were a beautiful young woman with a joyful and outgoing personality. Just like it didn’t take long for you to meet the moody cripple prince. What brought the two of you together was your admiration for Ragnar and your love for the Gods. Or maybe it was Floki… The boat builder took you under his wing immediately, as it was the first time he met someone who loved the Gods as much as he did. And you knew that he played the matchmaker between you and Ivar several times, but you were truly grateful for that. And so was Ivar. You always were an unfailing support to him, especially in the hardest time of his life. You even made him discover his sweet side. Ivar promised to marry you a few days after the death of his brother Sigurd, and that when he will take back Kattegat from Lagertha. And he did.

A marriage changes people life, that’s a fact. But it changed yours doubly. It was one of the biggest celebration you ever attended. People came from all Norway and even Sweden to celebrate your union with Ivar. After all, everybody wanted to get on his good side. “I am happy, Y/N. And that, for the first time in my life. I have avenged my Mother’s death. I am King. And I am married to the love of my life.” Ivar said to you during the feast, kissing your hand tenderly. The smile who was on your face all day became even bigger at your husband’s sweet words. “I am happy too, Ivar.” You assured him before gently caressing one of his cheeks. “I know the Gods will bless us with many children.” His words made you bite your lips instantly. It was something that a really few people knew, but Ivar always wanted to be a father. And he was convinced that you were the only one who could give him children. “Well, my love…” You started, leaning towards him while your hand was still on his cheek. “What if They already bless us with one?” You confessed to him, making him suddenly confused. Ivar took a few minutes to be sure that he really understood what you just said to him. He was looking deeply into your eyes before an uncontrollable little laugh escaped him. “You… You are with child?” Ivar asked you and you nodded, still smiling at him. He made you stand up from your chair to carefully put one of his hands on your womb. Another tender kiss was drop on this part of your body before Ivar raised up his horn of mead. “People of Kattegat! Tonight we are celebrating two things. My wedding. But also the fact that my wife, your Queen, is with child!” He shouted proudly and everyone in the Great Hall hailed with excitement. You knew Ivar for many years now, but you never saw a smile that big and bright on his face before.

During your pregnancy, Ivar never left your side. He was even more protective with you than before. And of course, he made sure that you didn’t lack or want anything. But with the joy also came the worries. At every sickness or pain, Ivar feared that you lost the baby. Or that it was a sign that your child will have his skeletal condition. It almost became obsessional; he went to the Seer at least once a day in case the wise one saw something. And countless were the nights Ivar didn’t sleep just to look at your womb. But his favourite months were probably the last ones, where he could feel your baby kicking. “He is strong.” You said playfully while Ivar laughed after he felt your child moving as he spoke to him. “He?” He repeated suddenly, surprised by the words who came out of your mouth. Ivar then straightened up so he could sit next to you on the bed. “How do you know it will be a boy?” He asked you, his beautiful ocean eyes alternated between you and your perfectly round belly. “I just know. I will give you a son, Ivar The Boneless.” Your words sounded like a promise to him, and he couldn’t help but smile and kiss your lips passionately.

Less than a mouth later, you woke up with your bed wet and in a terrible pain. “Ivar!” You screamed loudly from your room, even though you knew he was sitting near the boats like every morning since he was the King of Kattegat, it helped him clear his mind for the day he once said to you. But when the wind carried the sound of your voice to him, Ivar immediately raised his head. His heart started pounding crazily in his chest, he knew it could only mean one thing: the baby was coming. He hurried to your room just like the slaves and the healers. Ivar sat on the bed next to you, one of his arms around your shoulder and your hand in his. “I cannot do it, Ivar. It is too painful.” You said to your husband, almost in tears. “Of course you can do it. I believe in you, Y/N.” He encouraged you before you pushed again, squeezing his hand. Even if he tried to hide it, Ivar was scared. Fearing the worst for you and the baby. Seeing you in so much pain broke him. He was powerless, and he hated that. Ivar screamed with you. Wiped your forehead. And kissed your temple to reassure you. Until you both finally heard clear and strong cries. Ivar slowly released his grip on you when the healer came with your child. She smiled at the two of you before giving him carefully the beautiful and perfectly healthy baby she was holding. “It is… It is a boy. I have a son.” Ivar said with emotion, his eyes locked on your child. “It told you I will give you a son.” You responded, still out of breath and exhausted. You tenderly caressed your child’s cheek before looking up at Ivar. When your eyes met, you smiled at each other with joy. “Thank you.” He whispered before kissing your lips with all the love he had for you.

Tags: @bellagreenleaflotr @ivartheblessed @vikingdrabbles @mblaqgi @he-has-a-name @the-witch-from-the-forest @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @iofiivar @readsalot73 @sallylebecks

[libertasrpg]

We welcome Anna Árnadalr to the city. She’s 22 years old and is a Princess. Anna is often mistaken for Virginia Gardner. She’s open.

→ Background Information

Hailing from Norway, Anna is practically the polar opposite of her sister Elsa. Born in the middle of summer, Anna is the embodiment of warmth and sunshine. Bringing life into the home at some would say even the darkest of times. There was a moment when the Arnadalr family were content, Anna remembers it but only in passing and photographs. Distance memories of how close the family were, specifically how close her and Elsa were. She doesn’t remember what changed or the accident that caused her memory lost. During a night out in the early morning snow, the young sisters snuck out to play, only when Anna fell and hit her head that things took a turn for the worse. Causing a small brain hemorrhage, though luckily easily fixed but not without leaving Anna with a white scare from her forehead to behind her ear; covered with locks of hair the raised scare is the only memory she holds from it. Even if she doesn’t remember it, it caused a permanent shift and a isolation between the two sisters. With Elsa locking herself in her room pushing Anna away and her parents busy with formal affairs, the young girl was left alone to wander the halls of their home alone with only the characters from paintings for company. As she grew, so did Anna’s heart and her deserve for adventure and well- anything beyond the walls in which she grew up in. She’d even thought of traveling, finding a young love and whisking away into a fairytale romance. Though when a storm at sea sunk her parents ship, her dreams of escapism sank with it. Despite only having Elsa left, Anna can’t help but feel like she’s already lost her too. Having tried for so many years and waited outside doors for company that never came, she grieved for their parents publicly and privately alone with Elsa not even making a passing appearance. She knows it can’t be easy for her sister, but that doesn’t make Anna’s earning for something more still ever present and growing day by day.

→ Living Situation

Currently living with Olaf, the house is always filled with hot chocolate and a thousand marshmallows. The last thing that Anna wanted was to move and to live by herself surrounded by the same cold lonely walls. Olaf brings a life with him whenever he goes, a bright nature that can’t help but comfort the young woman and settle her nerves while trying to reconnected with her sister. She is more than thankful for her friend’s company on a daily basis, so relieved to not be alone anymore.

→ Relocation Explanation

The rumors spreading through Norway soon started to unravel into a painful reality that led the royal family exposed and under thread. For the most part, Anna wasn’t aware what was going on. It had been just before an official event, the press had wanted answers but what had started innocently had led Elsa fleeing the scene suffering with panic attacks. Almost the night after, she was escorted out of the country to a safe heaven. Leaving Anna trying to find pieces, a trail to follow to her sister when the governors gave off so little information of the were abouts of the queen. Eventually, still with very little explanations from the advisers around her, it was suggested that Anna follow in a bid to protect the family from harm in the uncertain times. Occupied by Olaf and put under the protection of Kristoff and Sven, the four went in search for Elsa. And welcomed not so warmly when they found her. But Anna wasn’t going to say no to an opportunity to experience the world and definitely wasn’t going to leave her sister alone. Settling in Libertas, Anna is learning more about the world than ever before, with doors finally open to her that have been closed for so long. 

→ Her Personality

Her bubbly nature makes it difficult for anyone not to fall for the young princess’s charms. Though many see her as naive from having a sheltered and privileged life, Anna comes with a fiery temper and can often act without thought when she feels passionately about something. Having been kept to the side for most of her life, she is fiercely protective of those she cares about. A hopeless romantic, Anna wants nothing more than to feel loved and be loved in return. Having been blocked out by her sister and kept apart from her parents, Anna just wants someone to be there for her; at points her desire to not feel so alone leaving her with blind trust. 

→ Her Qualities

Bubbly, excitable, warmhearted

Naive, confrontational, stubborn 

→ Her Relationships

Elsa Árnadalr (sister): It is no secret that the two have an strained relationship, though they aren’t the closest pair; the rare moments they share are often filled with giggles and tenderness. Well- until Elsa pulls away again. Having followed her sister to Liberta’s, Anna is hoping to rekindle their relationship in hopes to cling onto the last piece of family she has left.

Kristoff Bjorgman (friend & potential love interest): Put under the protection of the ice bearer to not alert any suspicion when leaving the country, Kirstoff and Sven helped guide the young princess - all be it a little begrudgingly from him in the first place. If it wasn’t for Kristoff, they never would have found Elsa and Anna couldn’t be more than thankful for the friendship that developed along the way. 

Hans Westergård (acquaintance & potential love interest): Having met the Prince of Denmark through the occasional formal events, Anna can’t help hopelessly admiring the charming, handsome prince from afar. They have talked in passing, each time the young princess blushing and awkwardly confessing her attraction to him.

→ Possible Connections

Olaf Østberg (friend): Growing up Olaf was always the thing that kept a piece of Anna and Elsa together, acting as almost a mediator between the pair. Though Olaf and Elsa are closer, Anna cares for her friend deeply. Thankful for even a small piece of Elsa that she can hold onto. 

Eloise Petrosinella (Cousin): Anna was exploring town, taking in - well everything she could see - when she wondered into the art gallery. The two clicked almost instantly, with similar personalities it’s hard not to smile when the two vibrant women are in shared quarters. Though Elsa has some suspicions about Eloise’s past, Anna is too consumed with the new friendship to take notice. 

Anna Árnadalr is based on Anna from Frozen.

[scotianostra]

On January 30th 1886 Elizabeth 'Betty' Mouat set sail from Grutness to Lerwick, on the Shetland Isles, she would be washed ashore in Norway over a week later.

In 1886 the unmarried Betty Mouat was 59 years old. She supported herself by knitting and she lived with her half-brother’s family in the tiny hamlet of Scatness near the southern tip of the main island of the Shetlands, one of the most remote inhabited locations in the British Isles.

Her background was a tragic one – her father had died six months before her birth when the whaler he was serving on disappeared in the Arctic. Her poor luck continued – a cartwheel broke her leg, and she was once shot in the head by a man hunting rabbits. She herself had suffered a stroke in her late 50's and it was probably for treatment of this she set out for the doctors surgery 25 miles away that January morning on the Columbine, a small cutter-rigged sailing craft that carried mail and passengers, on the journey she was bringing some forty hand-crafted shawls with her for sale on behalf of herself and neighbours.

weather was deteriorating and the Columbine’s captain warned Miss Mouat that a rough passage could be expected. He advised that she might better wait. She was quite adamant however – sail in the Columbine she would. She came on board with her merchandise and with two pints of milk and two biscuits for refreshment during the expected three or four- hour passage. She went down into the small cabin and settled herself.

Disaster struck within half an hour of departure. The main sheet broke, allowing the boom to swing free and in the process of securing it the captain was thrown overboard. The craft carried two deckhands and now – with the Columbine unable to manoeuvre due to the unavailability of the mainsail – they too the decision to launch the vessel’s single row-boat and go to the captain’s rescue. Given the weather conditions it seems remarkable that they expected to get back to the Columbine. The captain could not be found but by the time they realised that their search was futile the Columbine had been driven too far off to reach. She was carrying Miss Mouat, the only passenger, with her. The two deckhands were successful in reaching shore and raising the alarm but given the communications of the time the response could not be immediate.

It's now I will hand you over to the great Tragedian Scottish port William McGonagall, with a a contemporary account of the events, in his own inimitable style!

The Wreck of the “Columbine”Kind 

Kind Christians, all pay attention to me, And Miss Mouat's sufferings I'll relate to ye; While on board the Columbine, on the merciless sea, Tossing about in the darkness of night in the storm helplessly. She left her home (Scatness), on Saturday morning, bound for Lerwick, Thinking to get cured by a man she knew, as she was very sick; But for eight days she was tossed about on the stormy main, By a severe storm of wind, hail, and rain. The waves washed o'er the little craft, and the wind loudly roared, And the Skipper, by a big wave, was washed overboard; Then the crew launched the small boat on the stormy main, Thinking to rescue the Skipper, but it was all in vain. Nevertheless, the crew struggled hard his life to save, But alas! the Skipper sank, and found a watery grave; And the white crested waves madly did roar, Still the crew, thank God, landed safe on shore. As soon as Miss Mouat found she was alone, Her mind became absorbed about her friends at home; As her terrible situation presented itself to her mind, And her native place being quickly left far behind. And as the big waves lashed the deck with fearful shocks, Miss Mouat thought the vessel had struck upon a reef of rocks; And she thought the crew had gone to get help from land, While she held to a rope fastened to the cabin roof by her right hand. And there the poor creature was in danger of being thrown to the floor, Whilst the heavy showers of spray were blown against the cabin door, And the loosened sail was reduced to tatters and flapping with the wind, And the noise thereof caused strange fears to arise in her mind. And after some hours of darkness had set in, The table capsized with a lurch of the sea which made a fearful din, Which helped to put the poor creature in a terrible fright, To hear the drawers of the table rolling about all the night. And there the noble heroine sat looking very woe-begone, With hands uplifted to God making her moan, Praying to God above to send her relief, While in frantic screams she gave vent to her pent up grief. And loud and earnestly to God the noble heroine did cry, And the poor invalid's bosom heaved many a sigh; Oh! heaven, hard was the fate of this woman of sixty years of age, Tossing about on the briny deep, while the storm fiend did rage. Oh! think of the poor soul crouched in the cabin below, With her heart full of fear, cold, hunger, and woe, And the pitless storm of rain, hail, and snow, Tossing about her tiny craft to and fro. And when the morning came she felt very sick, And she expected the voyage would be about three hours to Lerwick, And her stock of provisions was but very small, Only two half-penny biscuits and a quart bottle of milk in all Still the heavy snow kept falling, and the sky was obscured, And on Sabbath morning she made her first meal on board, And this she confined to a little drop of milk and half a biscuit, Which she wisely considered was most fit. And to the rope fastened to the cabin roof she still held on Until her hands began to blister, and she felt woe-begone, But by standing on a chest she could look out of the hatchway, And spend a little time in casting her eyes o'er the sea each day. When Wednesday morning came the weather was very fine, And the sun in the heavens brightly did shine, And continued so all the live long day; Then Miss Mouat guessed that land to the norward lay. Then the poor creature sat down to her last meal on board, And with heartfelt thanks she praised the Lord; But when Thursday morning came no more food could be had, Then she mounted a box about seven o'clock while her heart felt sad. And she took her usual gaze o'er the sea with a wistful eye, Hoping that some passing vessel she might descry, And to the westward she espied a bright red light, But as the little craft passed on it vanished from her sight. But alas; no vessel could she see around anywhere, And at last the poor soul began to despair, And there the lonely woman sat looking out to the heavens above, Praying to God for succour with her heart full of love. At last the Columbine began to strike on submerged rocks, And with the rise and fall of the sea she received some dreadful shocks, And notwithstanding that the vessel was still rolling among the rocks, Still the noble heroine contrived once more to raise herself upon the box. Still the Columbine sped on, and ran upon a shingly beach, And at last the Island of Lepsoe, Miss Mouat did reach, And she was kindly treated by the inhabitants in everyway that's grand, And conveyed to Aalesund and there taking steamer to fair England.

William Topaz McGonagall

On 7 February 1886 the Columbine was washed ashore on a beach at Lepsøy, near Ålesund, in Norway. When local villagers arrived on the scene they found Betty Mouat alive and well, after nine days living on a single bottle of milk and some ship's biscuits. Betty was repatriated to Edinburgh, and finally arrived in Lerwick on board the steamer St Clair in late March. She became an immediate celebrity and an appeal for public subscriptions to help her attracted a letter and a donation of £20 from Queen Victoria.

Betty Mouat lived to be 93 and on her death in 1918 was buried at Dunrossness Churchyard. The bay where she came ashore in Norway is now called Columbinebukta or "Columbine Bay": on 17 May 1986 a plaque was unveiled there commemorating the event. The croft in which Betty Mouat spent most of her life has now been extended to become Betty Mouat's Böd, a camping böd close to Sumburgh Airport.

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 7.4

Holidays

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland Day

Apocalypse Day

Army Day (Guatemala)

Baal Fire Day (Northumberland, UK)

Buffalo Bill Day

Bullion’s Day

Commemoration Day of the Victims of the Genocide Against the Jewish People (Latvia)

Constitution Day (Cayman Islands)

Day of Agwe (Haiti)

Dree Festival begins (Apatani people, India) [Ends 7.7]

F-Day (Alaska)

Filipino-American Friendship Day (Philippines)

Garibaldi Day (Italy)

Hillbilly Day

Invisible Day

Jumping on the Mattress Night

King Tupou VI Day (Tonga)

Koko the Gorilla Day

Kwibohora (Liberation Day; Rwanda)

Liberation Day (Northern Mariana Islands)

Lou Gehrig Appreciation Day

National Architect Day (Venezuela)

Queen Sonja Day (Norway)

Republic Day (Philippines)

Stone Skipping Tournament (Mackinac Island, Michigan)

Tom Sawyer Fence-Painting Day (Hannibal, Missouri)

Unity Day (Zambia)

Virgin Islands Day (British Virgin Islands)

White Cloud’s Birthday and Tatanka Bison Festival (North Dakota)

Food & Drink Celebrations

Honor American Beer & Cyder Day

Jackfruit Day

National Baked Beans Day

National Barbecue Day

National Barbecued Spareribs Day

National Caesar Salad Day

National Pub Opening Day

Sidewalk Egg Frying Day

First Monday in July

CARICOM Day (a.k.a. Caribbean Day) [1st Monday]

Carnival Monday (Saint Vincent and Grenadines) [1st Monday]

Independence Days

Abkhazia (from Georgia, 1993)

Philippines (from US, 1946)

United States (from UK, 1776) a.k.a. …

Barbecue Day

Boom Box Parade (Willimantic, Connecticut)

Firecracker Day

Holy Firecracker Day (in John Updike's Couples)

Independence From Meat Day

Indivisible Day

National Country Music Day

Feast Days

Alec Guinness Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Andrew of Crete (Christian; Saint)

Bertha of Artois (Christian; Saint)

Bolcan (Christian; Saint)

Catherine Jarrige (Christian; Blessed)

Day of Pax (Ancient Roman)

Elizabeth of Aragon (or of Portugal; Christian; Saint)

Finbar (Christian; Saint)

Oda of Canterbury (Christian; Saint)

Peter the Hermit (Positivist; Saint)

Pier Giorgio Frassati (Christian; Blessed)

Sisoes (a.k.a. Sisoy), Anchoret in Egypt (Christian; Saint)

Ulrich of Augsburg (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Lucky Day (Philippines) [38 of 71]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

Alice in Wonderland (Novel; 1862)

America (My Country, ’Tis of Thee), by Lowell Mason and Samuel Francis Smith (Song; 1831)

Die Hard 2 (Film; 1990)

Fernwood 2 Night (TV Series; 1977)

Foo Fighters, by the Foo Fighters (Album; 1995)

Greenfields, by The Brothers Four (Song; 1959)

Hail to the Chief, performed by the U.S. Marine Band (Song; 1828)

Kylie, by Kylie Minogue (Album; 1988)

Leaves of Grass, by Walt Whitman (Poem; 1855)

Once Upon a Time in the West (Film; 1969)

Summer in the City, by The Lovin’ Spoonful (Song; 1966)

Tess of the d'Urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy (Novel; 1891)

Tony Orlando & Dawn (TV Series; 1974)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 185 of 2022; 180 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 1 of week 27 of 2022

Celtic Tree Calendar: Duir (Oak) [Day 25 of 28]

Chinese: Month 6 (Héyuè), Day 6 (Ding-Wei)

Chinese Year of the: Tiger (until January 22, 2023)

Hebrew: 5 Tammuz 5782

Islamic: 4 Ḏū al-Ḥijjah 1443

J Cal: 5 Lux; Foursday [5 of 30]

Julian: 21 June 2022

Moon: 24% Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 17 Charlemagne (7th Month) [Peter the Hermit]

Runic Half Month: Foeh (Wealth) [Day 8 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 14 of 90)

Zodiac: Cancer (Day 14 of 30)