#heart full. Grima thoughts.

[roboraindrop]

Sorry I am absolutely lovesick rn--

[dennydraws]

I can't believe @sunnyluma bullied me into posting this... Disclaimer: I write fanfiction once in 10 years, English isn't my native language. I got plot bunnies during the affinity event in FEH

Day of Devotion Words: 1877 Characters: F/Robin (FEAwakening) x Julius (FE4)

The Day of Devotion. A lovely holiday in Askr, a day to bring flowers and express love - all kinds of love. Love towards friends, family … and more. Robin smiled as she placed the flowers through her hair. A smile that would slowly wilt with every next bloom that found it's place on her garments. Her family - the shepherds, they were not here. Not in the same ones in any case. Chrom who once was the closest to her heart was now spending the holiday with another Robin. Not that this Chrom was the same Chrom she knew. Just how many versions of herself were there? It would've been a lie if she said she didn't feel cheated that she was plucked form a timeline she had found happiness and salvation from Grima… or was on the verge of it in any case. And now she was here, in the middle of other conflicts. Happiness was so close and then taken away.

But feelings, especially personal ones such as those had no room on the battlefield and she as a tactician knew that better than anyone. So, her smile adorned her lips once more. She still had plenty to be thankful for - Askr was welcoming place and she had the unique opportunity to meet so many heroes from across time and space - even …more versions of herself! She saw some Robins with worse fate - reminding her of what could've been had she not met Chrom. And there were some Robins who seemed to have tied the knot …with some questionable individuals from the army. She still couldn't wrap her mind over how could any versions of herself would get married to Gangrel of all people and yet the utter devotion she could see in their eyes spoke volumes of how strong that bond was. The smile began to wilt again.

"Oh, get a grip Robin… that's not like you at all." She closed her eyes and shook off any sign of bitterness that could even try to emerge. After all, she knew full well what Grima would feed upon if she even slightly allows it. Instead Robin picked the buoquet of flowers and went out to find someone out there who got no flowers today - surely there ought to be a lone soul somewhere in Askr that could use a little happiness today. As Robin strolled the paved streets, slowly but surely she reminded herself - it was for a tactical benefit. Happier heroes make for stronger units. At the end of the day their survival was the main goal. And that's exactly what she thought when her eyes stopped upon Julius. Alone as usual, he was leaning on a tree in the shades and away from everyone and everything. Robin was aware of his circumstances, in fact she considered him almost like a distant reflection of herself. She knew how a dragon's hold on the mind could feel even when everyone in the army was sure there was nothing left of the real Julius there. Purely for tactical purposes, she reminded herself once more. "Happy day of devotion." Robin beamed a polite smile, holding forth the flowers.

There was a moment of complete confusion on Julius' face. Julia had attempted to sneak a bouquet earlier today which he had instantly crushed despite the screams from his inner mortal puppet. He didn't expect more or any other interactions today, in fact he was hoping he'd be left alone today and this brief moment of confusion loosened the grip he had. "Why?" Julius uttered in an usual calmer voice. Robin immediately caught it. So he was still in there, she thought. Talking to her own fallen self was completely useless when she had tried before but this change of tone made her consider - there might still be something of Julius left in him. "Why not? You've been helping the army fight off whatever evil is looming over us. Isn't that a good reason to thank you for your efforts?" Robin answered pulling her best tactician voice. After all, it was simply stating the facts.

"Hah! You think I do that out of devotion? I long to crush you like the little insects you are. The contract simply binds me to crush only specific ones. But when this contract is broken you will make no difference to me!" Julius leaned in, his hand over the flowers clutched into a tight grip before Robin could even let go. "Yes well… I'm glad you are accepting the flowers though my hand doesn't come with them." Robin noted completely ignoring the dragon's taunts. Another moment caught off guard. "Ah…" A sudden obedient withdraw followed. There he was again, Robin thought and a smirk formed her lips. So that's how you had to go with it. The more you registered Loptous the more he emerged. She just had to see Julius instead. Her eyes squinted. But that was an issue wasn't it? No one knew Julius… except when he was a child and even then, that was so long ago. Whoever was inside had all grown up now. "You seek something that is no longer there." the dragon smirked, taking the flowers, nails gripping into them. Oh he only had to tear them now in front of her to make his point and yet, this hand was flinching in disobedience.

"Hmm, yeah been there, done that." Robin waved her hand after which she completely ignored the looming figure and sat under the tree next to him. This dress certainly made it a bit harder. As much as she enjoyed the flowers, at the back of her head she only wished she was in her comfortable long robes and poofy pants. "They only see the monster, the big disappointment that you are no longer you. It really chips away from your confidence, doesn't it? We're not that different - you and I." Julius remained frozen and still. The dragon was silenced in sheer anger. How dared this mortal overlook him!?

"I was just… lucky. I had someone to pull me before that grip got too strong to bear. But there were times I wasn't as lucky." Robin wasn't looking at him, her smile turned somber, "But you are still holding on. It means you are devoted to something - a hope, an idea, maybe someone… That's worth celebrating today, don't you think?" The pain coming through Julius' head was immense but he made no noise. He couldn't let Loptous groan or grunt like every other time he even tried to produce a thought of his own. His hand was holding on to these flowers - a devotion to hope he never dared speak and he was ready to break his own hand before he lets him crush them. The silence hung in the air. Robin didn't move or look up. A heavy feeling began to swell into her throat - is this how Emmeryn felt? Memories of her speech before she lept into her death after no reaction came from the armies started to surface. The painful realization that the ideals you hold on to are not strong enough to change the inevitable tragedy ahead. A mental kick followed - when did she get so foolish as to let emotions dictate her so? She was a tactician. Emmeryn pure and kind expected the best in people and the world needed people like her but Robin? She had to ground herself. This conversation was nothing but tactical approach to boost morale, nothing more.

Something gently snuck behind her ear. A flower form the bouquet. "I used to.. place flowers in her hair." Julius muttered, slow and uncertain. He had leaned over, his look distant yet searching. Robin turned immediately with her eyes widened. This was most certainly not Loptous. Her mind raced. What did he mean? Oh, he probably meant Ishtar. Of course he did. A little bitter reminder. She mentally bit her tongue - now was not the time for this. The point was - he was still there, in fact he emerged. Was it a good moment to run and call for her? No, that would mean leaving him alone and this moment felt too crucial. Like a battlefield on it's own, it was all about timing, catching the flow and turning it to your favor. "The…best I could do... was to let them go. If they hated me…they would not come near, they would not …be hurt by him. If they... knew I was still here…they would hesitate and he would kill them. They…are safe now… without me." Julius continued speaking with his look turning more and more empty with each word.

Robin recognized where this was going. His thoughts would spiral in despair and Loptous would emerge again, maybe this time for good. She had to think fast, what to reply before he'd slip again. She had to help him win this battle. "Your strength is admirable and I say that as a tactician." Robin replied with a forced brighter tone, pushing any and all emotions that could possibly create a tremble. She had to focus on… Julius. Not on Loptous. Not on the weaved tragedy that had stained every step of his life but on the hero who no one would see or even believe was still in there. Julius' eyes gained a brief focus even if no words came out, Robin knew he was looking at her… maybe a bit too strongly. It was strange, she had seen Julius many times, but never… The Julius, nor his look ever felt on her, not like this. She gave herself another mental kick. Now she began to see how some version of her out there married Gangrel - he too probably did this helpless lost look on her and tugged her heart strings. Probably even gave her flowers. Apparently that was a weak spot she had not realized. Although the image of Gangrel holding a bouquet of flowers was absurd and yet suddenly things began to make a bit more sense regarding her romantic choices in some alternative realities.

"I mean it. I'm proud of you, Julius!" Robin added further as small attempt to break the silence once more and shake any potential emotions trying to find their way into her heart. Instead of a reply Julius simply slumped on his knees, much like a tired puppet with loosen strings and planted his forehead on her shoulder. Robin turned stiff as a statue. That certainly wasn't an expected turn of events. Carefully she moved her arms to give him a careful pat which gradually became a hug. Goodness, this… escalated quickly, she thought. Julius couldn't utter more words. Rather he basked in the sensation of his own body for as brief as this was going to last. He wanted to enjoy the moment - he wasn't sure if he'd ever get another. But the smell of flowers in her dress, her hair, the gentle hold on him - yes he… he would get another. He would fight to get another moment such as this.

Autor Note: Do not blame me for this idea, blame this!

I can't believe I wrote a fanfic in 2024 about Fire Emblem...

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

never have i ever been so ???? as when someone was talking about merry, eowyn, the witch king and the whole "no living man" thing, and they loved the books very much were quoting them and everything... and they got hung up on the man thing.

as in, they were sure it was actually the burrow downs blade merry was carrying that made the witch king vulnerable to killing, with eowyn being the one to step up and K.O. him despite her shattered shield arm- which yes yes I am following along perfectly fine so far, tom bombadil strikes again, ok-

and the person was frustrated bc if the "no living man may hinder me" thing was true then what about merry isn't merry a man didn't merry hinder-

And I swear I sat there for a full ten minutes, staring.

the thing about the middle earth books is, almost everyone is a dude. it's the default. i couldn't even remember when characters referred to each other by gender specifically (outside of eowyn's arc) beyond polite titles like lord or king, because it'd be so weird. the default is always male. it's assumed. im still trying to remember if any of the hobbits were called men- halflings, shire folk, little ones, i remember them being described by the things that set them apart from the people around them, and that was always WHAT they were. short, mainly. or presumed rich and important, for pipin the halfling prince while in gondor

in the lord of the rings and the hobbit the gender norm is so universal the word "man" almost always means... humans. as opposed to, elves, dwarves, orcs, blah blah blah, hobbits yadda yadda

So it was just, shocking to hear someone talking about the "man" in the witch king's context as a gender thing

eowyn answers it like it is, but i always thought that was her being cheeky. her whole thing there is defiance so i just figured, well, she expects to die and wants to piss him off while she goes. sure she'd make a joke of his boast. no living man. well no living MAN am I. like a pun?

then a hobbit, not a man, stabs the dude with a blade made to hurt and weaken him, and a woman, not a man, gets him in the head with her sword right after

which subversion of the "man" thing killed him in the end?

"not by the hand of man will he fall"

teen me thought the prophecy had been man vs hobbit, originally, but eowyn herself ALSO made it woman vs man, because only she- a woman, alone of all the men who rode to battle- only she understood merry and thought it right to bring a hobbit into war,

(something something, the theme of the books about different people coming together to save their world, those long overlooked shaking the towers of them who never thought to fear them)

but prophecy aside, she eowyn- as a woman- also served up this witch king with his own arrogance and superiority, because this whole battle WAS mankind HINDERING him, wasn't it now? she IS standing in his way, hindering him as well. one of mankind killed him, and the woman who sent him packing made a mockery of his pride right before she did it.

"no living man" pssh. begone if you be not deathless. eowyn daughter of eomund is gonna hit you with her fucking sword even if it kills her

and isn't that what the mankind of middle earth were all about?

(glorfindel you were either slightly wrong or being a pest) (i'd almost bet pest tbh)

man, mankind, fought that battle on the pelennor fields against the witch king's might, though it took a woman specifically to bring together all the pieces that would finally make him fall (herself) (1 hobbit + dagger) (love for her family) (friendship) (urge to KILL)

but still humans are the lays potato chips of middle earth

no dwarven unbending will, no longevity or wisdom of elves, no magic, not even that hardiness of the heart that hobbits can push through on

boromir, eowyn, eomer, theoden- humans other than aragorn the elvish or faramir the wizardly- hell even grima... kinda...

they might fail and die and falter, but when the end comes, they throw their whole selves into it. they'll at least be a hindrance on their way out

what was i saying

oh whatever. eowyn killed the witch king with snark and he died mad about it or something

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

3, 9, 10, and 49 for Grima?

Two Grima anons!! Because you all are amazing and know me and the way to my heart

3. Obscure headcanon

Honestly, I feel like I've talked enough about Grima that all my headcanons have been exhausted in the "Grima Thoughts" tag and the "Grima Wormtongue" tag more broadly on my tumblr.

I suppose one that I've never voice too much, and haven't played with (YET. GET READY.**) is that I headcanon him as distinctly Not Cis but he's very convoluted and vague about what that means. The whole seidr aspect I read onto him adds different layers to how you can interpret that, especially given some views that seidr-working might have been viewed as an alternative gender, or an additional aspect to gender, or something in that ballpark of being different from man and woman.

I just enjoy that, aside from Eowyn, he is one of the characters you can make the strongest argument for being Outside the Gender Norms of Their Respective Society. This makes me very pleased and happy.

Grima just wants to be queen. Let him be one!!

--

**this only applies to people reading What Makes a King

9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

For the movies it was the tear-drop scene in TTT after Saruman sends the uruk-hai off to Helms Deep. So much regret and realization of the scope of the impact of his actions captured in a single emotional moment. And it's fleeting! But so well done. No words are needed. Just dawning horror and that stomach-dropping-out-from-your-body feeling of What The Fuck Have I Done - This Was Not How It Was Supposed To Go.

In the books it's 100% when Grima is sassing back at Treebeard. He is Peak Drowned Rat and a GIANT TREE is telling him: You need to go to Orthanc. It's voer there.

And Grima. Who has been on a horse for two days straight, riding through the night, and probbaly hasn't eaten in 48h, and is now stinking soaking wet becuase Treebeard dropped him in the muck and mire of the waters around Orthanc. That man. That man looks at the Giant Tree, the stuff of childhood legends in Rohan, and his instinctual reaction is to be the sassiest most lie-filled bitch on the planet.

What the fuck Grima.

Grima: Well, since you don't think I was here on behalf of Theoden which was My Quickly Thought Up Plan Because I DID NOT Expect This. I will now just be super sassy at you as my fall back. Seems reasonable.

Tree Beard: ????

Love that deranged bastard so much.

Grima: [sees a being way, way more powerful than him. Gandalf, Treebeard, whatever] What if I just said some sick burns and was a petty bitch for fifteen minutes??

Eomer: . .... ..,, , as a treat?

Grima: As a treat!!

10. Best moment on screen (or in the book)

I loved his seduction scene in the film. That whole speech is masterfully rendered by Brad Dourif and Miranda Otto is also fantastic in that scene. Seeing her tempted, truly tempted, then pulling back like: nope, nope, nope, I can't. Grima's face when she leaves. Absolutely phenomenal.

I also love the "These Men Don't Know What Personal Space Is" scene with Eomer.

Nothing to see here. Move along everyone.

In the book, the best scene is everything in the Scouring of Shire. The wanting to take Frodo's offer of a helping hand. The desperation for that salvation from himself and the situation he is in - yet, he is so trapped in whatever it is he feels for Saruman. That quasi-enslaved state by the time we get to the end of ROTK. It's so fucked up and such a fantastic representation of the push/pull of abusive situations. I want out/I can't leave/I can see a future/I can't see a future. So well done.

(And I think Saruman-Grima dynamic is something Tolkien didn't know he had - at least in terms of the potential that is in it.)

While I have gone on before about Grima's death being a let-down in terms of thematic satisfaction, I do love, love, love that he gets to kill Saruman. He gets to put the knife in Saruman's back. That is so fantastic as a full circle of all the traitors betraying each other. ALSO, of course, Grima gets to kill the man who has spent the last eleven months torturing him for shits and giggles. We love to see it.

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

I think Grima is very afraid to look at a lot of things about himself. He cannot look into the mirror straight-on. All truths about himself have to be captured in peripheral vision - which is to say, only ever faintly brushed against.

I don't know what the darkest secret is that he can't admit to himself. I suspect, for him, it's several. He's done so much harm in his life, and he's been also denied so much too, and wants so much, and has broken so much - it's all a tangled mess.

I think for Grima, what drives a lot of his actions post-Helm's Deep is a two-fold sunk-cost fallacy (that's the thing he can't admit to himself - it's not all lost. He can and should walk away. "If it's shit, hit the bricks" was not something he ever learned) and the inability to be able to see a life outside of Saruman. A path away from Orthanc. (Granted, no one was being helpful in that regard until Frodo. Literally no one. Not in any meaningful capacity.)

24. Most annoying habit

Maybe stop stealing things from people?

Probably, though, the sycophancy. The whole "oh my lord" this and "a wise/brilliant thing you said my lord" that. Ugh. Miss me with the verbal dick-sucking there, Grima.

I get why he does it. I 100% understand. I still find it grating. This is something, I will say, that turns up in fanfics more than canon. I've written it, myself, because it works for his character! It's what he would do! It makes sense post-Saruman that he would be like this! If he wasn't it would be weird! But my god Grima, get a spine and a sense of self-worth!

(Grima: shall not.)

For proper canon things, we don't really see enough of him to have specific habits to pick on. Because frankly, I find his thieving delightful and funny, if not a little whimsical. In fact, he should do more. Steal more things! Steal more things!

(Grima: Shall!!! Right now!!)

32. Something guaranteed to make them smile/laugh

Scathing commentary on people he hates. This man is a gossip and a first-class professional Bitcher. He can bitch with the best of them. Hearing dirty things about people makes him so happy.

Also, I think he likes word play and clever jokes. Riddling games and the like, especially ones that are terribly, terribly clever are near-guaranteed to make him smile.

I don't know that he laughs all that much. I think he does that snort/exhale as a form of "laughing" but I don't think he does full on laughing. Save very rarely, and I think it's a shockingly warm sound for someone who is a walking glacier in many respects.

49. Favorite toy as a child

Oh gods. This is hands down the toughest question. If only becuase I have only ever envisioned Grima's childhood as fairly toyless. But he would have had toys - even in the bleakest versions he would have had toys.

I can see little Grima, as a four/five/six year old, being partial to a small, carved cow. He likes the gentle eyes and is familiar with cattle and they smell like home. I can see him also having a small wagon as a boy and he would go out to a small copse and pretend to be a runaway who has joined up with a band of robbers or highway men. In the wagon he'd pack food and water and such, also his bow and a small knife.

Practicing a quick get-away since he was eight.

----

Thank you both so much! <3 <3 <3 This got long but 0 regrets. Grima deserves it.

[torchwood-99]

Look. Theoden and Eomer did wrong Eowyn.

They ignored Eowyn's own skills and abilities to shut her into a role they thought suitable for her.

Yes, that role was important. But if Eowyn was a man, they would have found someone else to do it.

Yes, they wanted to keep her off the battlefield because they loved her. But if Eowyn was a man, that love wouldn't have overruled her right to fight.

(Even if male!Eowyn had been left behind, it would have been after a lifetime of riding out already, and therefore would have been a fair distribution of the work, not a continuation of Eowyn being shut in by her family's expectations of her sex.)

Eomer and Theoden used sexism against Eowyn. They didn't so because they thought "ugh, women suck and are only capable of making the beds." They used sexism against her because they loved her and suited them to leave her behind.

More sympathetic, more likable. They're still good men.

But they're still using sexism to suit their own will, and to deny Eowyn her own.

That is still an injustice against Eowyn.

They all lived in a patriarchal society. Eomer and Theoden echoed the sentiments of their world. That makes them more forgivable than if they acted the same way today. They lived in a world that told them Eowyn was theirs. Beloved, treasured, but not her own self. She was theirs more than she was her own.

I love Eomer. I love Theoden. But they wronged Eowyn. Sexism in any way, shape or form, is still wrong. Sexism born out of love is still wrong. Sexism which is a result of the standards of the day is still wrong. (If anything, it's worse, because it's not just a one off or an exception. The suffering it causes is far greater.)

Eomer and Theoden wronged Eowyn by shutting her into a preconceived role, and just because that role had virtues, just because they loved and respected her, doesn't mitigate that wrong. Nor does it cancel out the impact it had on her depression, just as it hasn't for all the other women who suffered from sexism at the hands of those who loved them, or were pushed into a role that arguably had importance, but didn't suit them, or denied them their full potential, for something as unjust as their sex.

Eowyn's depression didn't come from out of the blue. And it didn't just come from Grima or the War or Mordor. Eowyn's depression came from those she loved and who loved her best.

Eomer himself has this pointed out to him. He at first thinks that Eowyn was depressed because a man rejected her. When told this isn't so, he says that she and him both went through hardships with Grima and their uncle. Gandalf spells out to him that it was the sexism that crushed Eowyn and cut her down to suit a preconceived role that was at the heart of her despair.

And Eomer listens.

There are lots of nuance to Eowyn and Eomer and Eowyn's decision to ride out and her role as a warrior, but yes, sexism, gender roles, and the defiance against sexism and gender roles (and prejudice in general, see her taking Merry too) is at the base of it.

[fantasyinvader]

Grima: You know full well how I detest humans. They have no qualms asking for divine assistance when it meets their fickle needs... But how quick they are to shun their benefactors once they get what they desire. They become arrogant and make the same mistakes repeatedly, incapable of learning the folly of their ways. They claim their actions are for the good of others, but that's merely a show of self-indulgence. Humans are selfish. And the ugliness of mankind has turned me repulsive. 

Honestly this feels like it was IS foreshadowing Houses in hindsight, possibly as a side-effect of Houses being delayed until it came out the following year.

“They have no qualms asking for divine assistance when it meets their fickle needs”

Each lord has their own thoughts on asking for divine assistance. Edelgard asked for it during the experiments, but because she didn't receive any she instead believes in a world where people need to rely on themselves. Alternatively, Claude rejects the idea of gods for that belief in self-reliance at the beginning, only for him to realize how the divine was helping him throughout Verdant Wind. As a result, he becomes more accepting of the Church and even works with them in pursuit of his goals. But then you get Dimitri, who believes that the Goddess doesn't reach out her hand (and that people are unable to grasp it) and instead ends up believing at the end of Moon that as a leader he must provide for his people in her stead.

“But how quick they are to shun their benefactors once they get what they desire.”

This sounds a lot like the Agarthans, accepting tech from Sothis, but when they began killing their neighbours played the victim when she stepped in. They called her a false Goddess and attacked her, and in their war burned the world to cinders. But this would also make sense with Edelgard as well, she'll accept help from Byleth and TWSITD, but she turns on the latter after she wins the war and doesn't reward Byleth in any way for their leadership helping her win. She instead acts like she did it all herself, that she walked her path alone.

“They become arrogant and make the same mistakes repeatedly, incapable of learning the folly of their ways.”

Yeah, Edelgard is arrogant and looking at the lore there's this implication that Fodlan has failed to break out of some cycle (hell, Epimenides talks about preserving the cycle of the world) where the strong rule over the weak. There's also the implications that she merely replaces the Agarthans and that Sothis will one day return to avenge the fallen, another spin of the wheel. But then you have how Edelgard seeks to replace Sothis with herself, and how the Agarthans presented themselves as gods to the tribes of the Elites, and how they will always make themselves out to be the victims and deny any culpability.

“They claim their actions are for the good of others, but that's merely a show of self-indulgence.”

Both Edelgard and the Agarthans claim they're doing this for “humanity. In the case of the former, she's willing to sacrifice anyone so that she may reshape the world in accordance to her ideals, and if her ideals don't help the people she blames the people for being too used to relying on others. The Agarthans, on the other hand, view themselves solely as humanity, everyone else are merely animals to them. We have two self-righteous groups here, and both are toxic influences on the world.

“Humans are selfish. And the ugliness of mankind has turned me repulsive.”

So the reason Grima wants to destroy the world... is because they've experienced enough people like Edelgard and the Agarthans that they think humanity isn't worth saving. Or rather, humanity is a blight on the world and the world would be better off without it. And this would align with how Fire Emblem painted the problems of the world as being driven by human failings. That darkness exists in the hearts of mankind, not merely in gods and dragons.

Then there's the female version of this.

“Come to butter me up some more? How very irksome. I've nothing to chat about with a human. Humans spout their ideals, but it's nothing but lip service. Let's all join together and hold hands, you'll say. We can overcome our differences despite being different species, despite our differing core ideologies. The truth is what you see daily in this place. Day after day, night after night, all you have is never-ending war. One person's satisfaction means another must suffer. That is the truth of all worlds. But my power of destruction is the one true equalizer. If you think there's someone out there capable of leading the world with such high-minded ideas of love and bonds... I'd love to meet them. Hmph. After all that, you still talk your big talk? Very well. I'll watch over you... Right until your bitter end.”

Ideals are nothing but lip service, never ending war, and the idea that for one person to be satisfied, there must be suffering elsewhere. And... yeah. Edelgard's ideals don't really amount to much as it ultimately comes down to giving her more power, allowing her to put whomever she wants in a position regardless of merit. Caspar gets put in charge of the imperial army, but the Japanese text makes it clear that 1) he can't keep them under control and 2) Edelgard is invading other countries. So merit is bullshit under her and we get the endless war by the Empire. And since Edelgard is supposed to represent hadou, that means the people are suffering under her rule.

But she's happy, and that's all that matters right? /s

[synergysilhouette]

Remaking Fire Emblem: Awakening

I kinda did a remake with "Fates," so I thought I'd make one with Awakening. To be fair: this is all subjective. I'm not saying my choices would make the game more enjoyable for everyone or that it'd be objectively superior. And most of this is plot-related, based on my understanding (or lack thereof) of the game after playing it. I changed a lot, and I've experienced gatekeeping within the community before back in my Reddit days, so be nice with your feedback!

Fell Dragon relevancy and the reduction of villains--It's revealed in retrospect towards the end of the game that certain villains aren't what they seem. Aversa was brainwashed by Validar as a child, Walhart was actually trying to prevent Grima's revival (albeit earning everyone's ire in the process) and was being manipulated by Excellus. Along with this, Grima and Walhart aren't really villains who affect the overall story, moreso placeholders for the main event. Because of this, I'd prefer to keep the focus on Validar and the Fell Dragon Grima, without there having to be those "well, in actuality" moments (as a Kingdom Hearts fan, I'm tired of those)--though we could keep the Aversa being brainwashed subplot; in fact, I'd re-work it so after Validar kidnaps her, she's raised by him to become a friend/servant to Robin (more on that in a sec), so they're the only one who can truly break through to her. Walhart is less aggressive with his approach to destroying the Grimleal, asking for cooperation rather than trying to take over the whole continent and forcing everyone to help him (he'd be allies with Chon'sin and actually have Say'ri and Yen'fay join before later joining our ranks himself), and Gangrel is a begrudging ally to the team because it inconveniences him greatly if the world is destroyed, as it would anyone--plus he realizes his troops are planning to revolt against him and wants to make nice with the people of Ylisse in case he ever needs to abscond.

Robin's background--First off, keep in mind that "Fates" was my first game, and while it copied a lot of "Awakening" (and "Engage" would do the same), the latter will always be my second FE game, and thus I wanted to avoid some tropes. Robin being the child of Validar is kinda burying the lead, and their mother is an unseen NPC, which is a big pet peeve to me with customizable characters; I adore a backstory. Seeing how Corrin, Byleth, and Alear's backstories follow similar beats to Robin's, I'd prefer if we switched it up. I'd enjoy if, rather than going the "nice, mostly absent mom and evil dad" route the succeeding games would go, we instead make Validar a bit more grey. He is still a devout follower of Grima, but not by choice. Coming from a family of worshippers, he plans to defect with his wife and child, but when they are captured and threatened with death, Validar agrees to become a vessel to Grima. This fails and corrupts him, and he raises Robin as the next vessel, his love being twisted with a fixation and obsession with them. His wife helps Robin escape shortly before the events of the game, but she disappears shortly thereafter and is presumed dead. Robin no longer has amnesia here, but has been kept a secret from the outside world, and thus Frederick is correct in being hesitant to trust them, and Robin understands, slowly revealing their origins to Chrom and co. (the full of which is done before the end of Act I).

The confusing paradox/Lucina's Mission--If you weren't mad before, you probably will be now. I kinda found the explanation of "Grima from an alternate future came to the present, gave Robin amnesia and went back to square 1" explanation kinda confusing and convoluted. Given the fact that the future children don't return to their time period anyway, I'd rework the story so that the alternate future that they came from is destroyed, and the children are the last remnants of it. No Grima going back in time with them; he was a being of destruction that brought about his own demise, eventually. The children were simply given a new lease on life, as well as wanting to spare their past parents the heartache of it all.

Making the children from the same timeline--This would mean a lot of extra work, but I'd enjoy it if the story and support convos reflected each character's unique heritage depending on who their dominant parent married. This INCLUDES CHROM ACKNOWLEDGING HIS KIDS HAVING BRANDS. If you recall, that's a family trait, and Lucina (the daughter he has regardless of your choices) has it, and Inigo (a son he could potentially have with Olivia) also shows that he has it. Any other possible kids Chrom can have should also mention having or not having a brand, imo. Morgan's backstory also changes. Here, Morgan comes from the same timeline as the other children (which can potentially happen in the OG game, but mainly if they have a sibling to confirm this), and they maintain a bubbly attitude, albeit not as moronic/silly as in the OG game.

(Art found on Etsy)

Emmeryn and Philia survive--Since I've already reversed the (seemingly) deaths of Walhart, Aversa, and Gangrel, I wanted to focus on Emmeryn. In the game, Philia is killed while trying to save her, and she commits suicide to prevent Chrom from giving up the Fire Emblem. Emmeryn can survive in one of the paralogues, though how this is possible isn't stated, and she has amnesia that makes her somewhat child-like. In my rewrite, Philia and her knights--or at the very least, Philia--doesn't die, and manages to rescue Emmeryn, though she has been roughed up in the process (IDK if I'd still make it because of Gangrel or if it'd be from Validar; probably the latter), forcing Chrom to take the role as king.

Romance options are more flexible--This includes same-sex options for Robin. Obviously this is more of a bonus aspect rather than something that largely affects the story/gameplay, but as a gaymer, this is something I'd enjoy, as well as STILL having kids in this (Fates mentioned same-sex couples adopted, but they don't get xenologues or get to be part of the story at all). Of course, this doesn't mean we can have Robin/Chrom since there's emphasis on heirs and Chrom has a big wedding with a bridge (unless you wanna have them get married and have an offscreen surrogate, which would be neat). Concerning Chrom, I'd enjoy Miriel, Anna, Panne, Tharja, Phila, Say'ri, and Flavia being additional romance options for him (which could come with interesting consequences).

Olivia joins earlier--This is a nit-pick as a Olivia/Chrom fan (mainly because of him acknowledging Inigo more than his other extras kids), but I also enjoy having a dancer on the team earlier.

Perhaps a bit more background/attention for some characters--In games like "Fire Emblem," most of the characters' personality and background is shown in the form of their supports with other characters. This might be unachievable in the game, but I would like more inclusion of the characters who join; the ones who join earlier definitely feel like they fade to the background as the story goes on, and things like Ricken's admiration for Chrom, Tharja's obsession with Robin (cue "obsessive dad" flashbacks), and Stahl's training under Frederick are some of the things I wish the mains story would bring up here and there rather than confining it to convos.

It'd also be nice to have an open-world, exploration-style story like 3H and "Engage," but it's not a necessity; it's just a fun thing I'd enjoy. Plus actually letting us replay our convos like we're able to do in later games would be awesome.

And that's my take! I'm almost certain that I'm forgetting something, but I can always edit this later. Lemme know what you think!

[death-and-other-myths]

The Queen of Nothing Deadass Book Review

Okay look, this book has everything. Our main character is an unhinged monster. Her husband was raised by a cat or something. There's snakes. GOD DAMN I LOVE THIS BOOK.

This is an unhinged book review of The Queen of Nothing By Holly Black.

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

Well the 3rd and final book in this series starts out with a bang, with the prologue painting Cardan’s tragic backstory as a baby taken to meet his father by his shitty, neglectful mom. Baefin, the royal astronomer shows up and decides to ruin everyone’s day by saying, “Hey, the stars say this kid is going to topple your kingdom and you’ll never have another child after him.” — so right out of the gate, everyone hates Cardan. His siblings play with him like a puppy. His Mom is the flakiest asshole. She uses a… cat..?? As a wet nurse?? Like WOW LADY. Both CPS and PETA would like a word with you.

There’s a super sad part when Cardan is older, and Dane is messing with him. They are shooting a walnut off of a mortal’s head, who happens to be Val Moren’s lover. Val Moren was the old High King’s sineschel, and his heart was broken for the rest of his life after his boyfriend got shot with an arrow by these big dumb faerie princes.

Dane offers to switch arrows, so if Cardan messes up and hits the man, everyone will think Dane did it. Cardan says fine, but chickens out when it comes time to shoot. So Dane shoots Cardan’s arrow into the guy’s chest, and tells everyone that Cardan did it. So as punishment, they sent Asha into jail and cultivated Cardan’s reputation of being a heartless asshole. It’s just shit all around. GOD THIS POOR BABY I CAN’T BELIEVE I EVER THOUGHT HE WAS A MONSTER. HE IS THE SWEET, MESSED UP PRODUCT OF HIS AWFUL FAMILY. AUGH.

Meanwhile, in the mortal world…

Jude is watching Oak play war games with the other 5 year olds and he keeps accidentally glamoring them (so he appears invisible until he attacks). When all of his friends leave, she sneaks up on him and you know, almost chokes him out. Like sisters do!

He’s all upset with her and she’s like “I’m just trying to show you that fighting is real, and it’s serious, and it’s not a game!” and he says he never ever wants to be king, which makes this reader happy.

At night, Jude makes money by doing odd jobs for the local faeries. They apparently can live in the mortal world, usually because they’re in hiding or exile or just because they want to. She meets up with one of the Roach’s old friends, who is a goat man that gives her a job to go talk to a lady named Grima Mog and tell her to quit murdering people.

Grima Mog is part of the “Court of Teeth”, and is a warrior who was banished for one reason or another and is causing a scene in the real world. Jude goes over, tells her to cut it out, and Grima Mog challenges her to a duel on the roof. Jude wins, because she is still a savage badass. And in return, Grima Mog tells her the latest hot goss: That King Cardan is going to be overthrown before the next full moon.

Jude is like cool I don’t care about him. Yep. Totally don’t care about that loser who is also my husband. Fuck him. Ima ride the bus home covered in blood. So she does that.

And when she gets home, Heather is there trying to pluck up the courage to see Vivi again. But moreover, TARYN IS THERE in her flowy pretty dress and Jude is like “Get the fuck out.” (still covered in blood by the way).

Taryn explains that she MURDERED LOCKE. Like not even in self defense or anything. He pissed her off and slept around, so she stabbed him with a LETTER OPENER and THREW HIM IN THE OCEAN so his body washed up a few miles downshore all chewed up, and now she has to go to Faerie court and be glamored to tell the truth. So she’s asking Jude if she’ll pose as her and go in her stead.

Jude can’t really resist the opportunity to get back into Faerie land and slap her husband, so she agrees. Also Taryn drops the bomb that she’s pregnant too. So ... damn. I guess being bloodthirsty maniacs runs in this family. Like whoa.

Alright, Jude goes back to Elfhame pretending to be Taryn. She spends a brief night in Locke’s house where she finds drugs just… everywhere. Gold stuff is smeared on the couches and the servants bring her a faerie apple with dinner, which Jude finds hella weird since that stuff is like heroin to humans. She’s starting to realize Taryn isn’t as innocent as she thought. As if the whole “murdering her husband” thing wasn’t her first clue.

She walks into the courtroom and gives a curtsey, and Cardon goes “…Taryn?”

She’s like “Yes m’lord tis I, sweet lil’ innocent Taryn. Look at me all in my pretty little dress being demure and cooperative.”

Cardon smirks and is like “okaaayyyy. Begin the questioning.”

Jude is standing there thinking “Cardon you dumb fuck I’ve tricked you. You’ve played right into the palm of my hand, you treacherous scum.”

And we as the reader realize it’s pretty fucking obvious that he knows its her. And that he looks elated to see her.

He “glamours” her to only be able to tell the truth and asks her if she killed Locke. Jude says no. So Cardon turns to Nicasia and his Mom (who are also there) and is like “Welp, she didn’t do it. Guess we can all go drink and party and forget this ever happened now. Like we did when Valerian died. Remember how no one seemed to care about that?”

But Jude has to take it a step further and be like “I think the sea had something to do with it.”

Nicasia is pissed. “WHY would the sea start shit if we have a treaty with the land? Also Locke was my friend! If anyone killed him it was probably your horrifying sister. She loves murdering people. She does it like, all the time.”

Lady Asha chimes in like “It’s court gossip that Locke was fooling around with both you and your sister. Maybe she killed him to get revenge because she loved him.”

And Jude (as Taryn) says, “My sister only loves one person, and it’s not Locke.”

Cardan is unable to stifle his glee.

“And she wants that person dead.”

Cardan bristles.

Nicasia says they can’t trust anything “Taryn” says because she could be wearing a charm to resist glamour (implying Jude should strip in front of the court). But Jude can’t do that without revealing herself, since she’s all scarred up and Cardan knows every single one of those scars.

Luckily, our boy is on to this so he’s like “How about I personally inspect her for charms in my quarters. Alone. Away from here. This is totally normal, right?” And the court is like “Right!” So they’re walking to his room. And a servant runs into her with a tray, and slips her a knife and is like “Don’t worry miss Taryn. Your father is coming to save you.” And Jude is like What? Shit. What??

But then she’s alone in Cardan’s room and he is immediately like “Oh my god how are you? Did you get my letters? I wrote you every day but you never replied. Hi.”

And Jude is FLABBERGASTED “You knew it was me?!”

“From the second you walked into the room?? You’re my wife? God, you’re cute.”

She’s still pissed at him though for tricking her, which to us is very obvious to us that it was for her own protection, but Jude thinks he’s awful. She shows him the knife someone gave her and for a moment he’s like… wait… shit… is she going to stab me? She kind of likes making him think she will. But she tells him Maddock is up to something, then there’s a huge explosion. And instead of stabbing Cardan, she goes back to her warrior ways like “Stay here!” Even though he’s shouting at her not to.

Jude takes like 2 steps outside the door and gets knocked out with Faerie chloroform by some of Maddock’s knights.

She wakes up in a carriage with Oriana being carted off to Maddock’s stronghold. And everyone is like “Sorry Taryn! It was just easier to get you out of there if you were… you know… unconscious for 3 days.” (Wtf faerie people??)

So now Jude is STUCK pretending to be Taryn in Maddock’s snowy army headquarters near the Court of Teeth territory. She has to hang out and pretend to like Oriana, her prim and boring stepmother, and convince everyone she’s Taryn or Maddock will literally kill her.

During her time in camp, she meets Grimsen the master forge guy, who likes compliments and young girls (which is hella gross). She flirts with him to learn about his magic weapons and learns he’s making a crazy powerful sword for Maddock to use to take Cardan’s crown.

Jude has an awkward conversation with Maddock where he’s like “I never much cared for Jude. God she’s so annoying. You’re cool though.” He also tells her that when he saved her from the palace, half his knights got murdered in the process. He said the doors shrunk and trapped his men inside, then vines came down from the ceiling and strangled them. Only the ones running with her made it out alive and everyone else got savagely choked to death. So like… Cardan is a badass and can still control the land around him. And clearly he does not take kindly to people kidnapping his wife.

Jude decides she needs to run away before anyone catches on to her, and on her way out, she stops to inspect this cave set far away from the camp. In it, she finds THE GHOST who betrayed her like a little fucking asshole just because his buddy Dane got killed. He tells her his whole sad story. That Dane was like, his friend and ally. He even gave Dane his “true name” (which is a big real. If anyone knows a faerie’s true name, they can command them to do anything). And then somehow Locke got his true name from Dane. And was commanding Ghost to do all these terrible things. Then Locke gave him to Maddock. So Jude is like SIIGHHH God damnit okay I’m getting out of here and taking you with me. I just need to get the key from Grimsen.

She goes BACK to camp, where Oriana is waiting for her like a huge dick. And she’s all like “You’re not Taryn, are you?” But thank god she doesn’t rat her out. Jude tells her why she was masquerading as Taryn, which Oriana totally understands (everyone in their family hated Locke) and the only reason she’s here is because Maddock FAERIE CHLOROFORMED HER.

Oriana agrees to write Vivi to come get Jude if Jude agrees to leave and never fucking come back to Faerie. Jude, being a lying liar, is like “yeah! Totes!”

So Jude goes to bed and plans on waking up before dawn and stealing the key from Grimsen to grab the Ghost and run. But she gets a hand thrown over her mouth in her sleep and elbows her assailant hard. Before she can STAB THEM, the Roach is laughing his ass off like “Jude, come on. It’s us.” And I nearly screamed and fell off the treadmill when she realizes that it’s CARDAN who has his hand over her mouth.

YAYYY!!! Cardan needs more screen time. I was so sad when Jude got kidnapped like god damnit. The high king is there in regular-people clothes. No crown. No gold eyeliner. He tells her that he knew where she was because he went to visit Vivi in the human world, which Jude cannot even picture and neither than I.

She’s like “Wtf did he even WEAR?” She tries to picture him sitting on their beat up couch next to Oak’s half eaten Lucky Charms. So apparently Vivi, Taryn, AND HEATHER are waiting for them in the forest. They bullied their way into the rescue operation by refusing to tell the high king where Jude was unless they could come.

Jude, difficult as usual, is like “Neat. You can’t rescue me yet. I need to free the Ghost from his torture cave first.”

Cardan is like “Can you FOR ONCE just let someone RESCUE you without being DIFFICULT?”

She’s like “No. Help me get this key from Grimsen.”

And he says “Okay.” (Whispers: “I love you so much”)

So the Roach, Jude, and Cardan sneak into Grimsen’s forge to get the key. Jude totally doesn’t notice how good Cardan is at sneaking around, nor how good he looks in those pants.

Before they left, the Roach told Cardan he could come on the dangerous mission if he promised to leave if they got discovered. Cardan is like Oh my god FIIIINE why does everyone make me promise thiiiings. Stupid fucking promise magic.

He also made a promise to Jude that if she returned with him to Elfhame, and told him what she needs to tell him, he’ll un-exile her. So Jude is like HOT DAMN YES.

They break into the forge, get the key, and immediately trip a booby trap. Some darts fly out of the wall and Cardan instinctively protects Jude with his cloak that is basically bulletproof. They look at each other as if they’re surprised at this, because they are having a little fight where they can’t figure out who betrayed who, if at all. GOD THESE KIDS ARE SO STUPID I LOVE THEM.

Well the romantic moment gets ruined because the Roach is down with a dart. Cardan carries him and Jude is like “BRB I GOTTA TELL MY SISTERS TO LEAVE or they’ll get caught” (The knights are scrambling now in response to the alarm). Cardan, who is honor-bound to return to Elfhame is like “Fine. Fuck. Fine. Damnit.” And leaves his woman, who totally does NOT go to her sisters, but runs to the cave to get Locke. AND IN THE CAVE, SHE FINDS MADDOCK WAITING FOR HER.

She’s like “When did you figure out it was me?” and he says “Later than I would have liked.” — apparently it was the way she looked at the BOATS on the MAP in his tent that tipped him off, which is kind of a slight to Taryn more than anything lol

Jude refuses to surrender, and knowing all she has is a dagger, she runs off into the snowy woods and does a halfway decent job of defending herself, but ultimately gets stabbed in the stomach. Maddock is kind of surprised at this too, and he even seems like he’s going to spare her life until an ARROW flies out of nowhere and into his chest. Vivi, Taryn, and GRIMA MOG (not Heather) show up and threaten him. So they let him retreat back to his army.

Jude is like “Ya’ll I don’t feel so good.” And collapses, asking Taryn to stitch her side. While she’s on the ground, she remembers that she is a queen and tries to heal herself with the land… however one does that… but it totally works because it heals up enough. And when she stands up there are flowers everywhere, because that’s a fun side effect of being royal.

Maddock said he sent the Ghost after Cardan, so Jude leaves Grima Mog to protect her sisters and rushes off to the palace to stop “Garret” (his real name!) before he can kill Cardon.

She climbs up in the rafters, which is the Ghost’s favorite killing place, and is watching Cardan and everyone below when the Bomb climbs up in the rafters too, and AIMS AT JUDE. Jude realizes that Maddock tricked her, and sent her there to look like SHE is the one trying to kill Cardan. So she dodges the Bomb’s arrow and FALLS straight onto the banquet table.

There’s this cute part where Jude croaks “I lost your cloak.”

And Cardan is like “You’re a fucking filthy mortal liar.” In front of everyone, which stings. Jude thinks he believes she was trying to assassinate him too. We all know it’s cause he’s pissed she keeps putting herself in danger after promising she won’t.

The court is demanding her death, because they love dinner and a show, and Cardan says “DON’T TOUCH HER. That’s my wife.”

Jude passes out. Wakes up in Cardan’s bed with him being super sweet and tending to her. Passes out some more. Wakes up naked and gross so she takes a bath. Sees her sisters, who are super happy she is alive (I love the sisters, even stupid Taryn).

After they leave, Cardan arrives, which is sweet. Then the Bomb shows up with a medical tray, and says to him “you should leave.”

And he’s like “I’m not leaving. This is my room. And she is MY wife!”

Bomb: “I know, you keep telling EVERYONE. But I need to take our her stitches and you probably don’t want to see that.”

Jude goes “Maybe he wants to stay and watch me scream.”

And Cardan says “Maybe I do. Maybe one day you’ll do that for me.” And touches her head and LEAVES. AHHHHHH!!!!!

Jude gets her stitches out. Later, Cardan comes to fetch her because the Living Council wants to talk to her. But they take a detour to the rose garden for these two stupid idiots to work out their issues. Jude is like “I’M STILL PISSED THAT YOU EXILED ME.”

Cardan: “I wrote you letters?? Every day?? The contents of which were BEGGING YOU TO COME HOME. Also? I very explicitly said that you were banished until pardoned by the crown. You are also the crown. You could have pardoned yourself and come back any time you wanted.”

Jude slaps him lol. Smears his cute gold shit he wears around his cheekbones.

SHE IS PISSED. And again. They are so dumb. But I love them.

Cardan explains that he never thought she was capable of breaking? Or being sad? Or being defeated? In his eyes she’s like this immortal warrior demon that he wants to make love to all day. So he thought he was proposing a fun riddle for her to work out. Like Jude would show up any day now like “Hah! Good trick to make Orla think you were an ally. Let’s conquer the world, babe.” — instead Jude fell into a DEEP depression and ate fish sticks for a few months, all the while Cardan’s shitty MOM was keeping his letters from reaching her.

Jude feels embarrassed and foolish and in typical Jude fashion, does not handle this well.

She goes off on a tangent about how she’s not an immortal warrior demon, she’s SCARED all the time. Scared of this world and of powerlessness and of CARDAN. It’s a cute exchange and sweet things are said, but none of which are explicit. Will you idiots shut up and kiss already??? GAWD.

Jude goes and talks to Lady Asha who is languishing in her bed over the trauma of watching HER fall off the rafters. Jude basically hears this woman talk shit about her son who “was difficult to love” and sasses her something fierce, then leaves.

A knight comes and finds Jude and tells her that Nicasia is in the throne room with a bunch of soldiers. When Jude gets there, Cardan is holding her hand and speaking closely with her (OH SNAP) - but nothing weird is going on. They’re just friends and he’s comforting her because MADDOCK SHOT HER MOM WITH SOME KIND OF MAGIC BULLET. And she’s not dead but is in a coma. So Nicasia has to leave and make sure no one tries to unthrone her mom.

Jude puts two and two together that it was the Ghost that probably shot the sea queen. He’s out there running around being all crazy under Maddock’s control. Jude is interrupted from her council meeting by a messenger saying Taryn needs to meet with her immediately in Hallow Hall (which is weird).

So she gets up to leave but Cardan is like “I’ll come too.” and he looks at her so innocently (but also knowing this annoys her) and off they go TOGETHER in a carriage. There, they find Taryn in Balekin’s gross dungeon with the GHOST who she has trapped in a hole. He tells them it was HE who shot Orla, and we also learn the Ghost’s true name (Larkin Gorm Garrett).

The Ghost tries to kill Cardan, but Taryn uses his name to say “Hey, cut it out. You’re free of any previous orders.” and he’s just like “AUGH THANK GOD.” – Jude hands the Ghost aka Garrett over to the Bomb’s custody, and on the carriage ride back, Cardan is being adorable and asking Taryn about the human world. She tells him about slushies and gummy bears. You know, basic human stuff.

Cardan escorts the Ghost to the Bomb, but never comes to bed that night. Which makes Jude sad.

The next day, Randalin bursts in on Jude, and is like “Your dad is such a dick! And he’s being a dick because you’re the queen. Step down and make this easier on all of us.”

And Jude says “No, fuck you.”

And Cardan comes in and in the most elegant, royal way possible, drags his advisor into another room to threaten his life for insulting Jude. It’s very cute.

But Ranndal makes a good point. The lower courts are starting to assemble at the palace because word on the street is that Maddock is going to challenge Cardan to a duel for the crown, and they are either here to show their support or usher in a new king. It’s all very shaky right now.

But in true Faerie fashion, they’re like “Let’s throw a party to celebrate everyone coming into town!”

Jude wears a gold dress with like… battle-esque looking leather shoulder pads and chain-mail lookin accents. She looks like a badass, and this is made even better when Cardan gives a toast at the party that is like “Welcome everyone. To you I offer my honey and wine and to any traitors or oath breakers, I offer you my queen’s hospitality instead. The hospitality of knives.” and everyone is like hahahaha cheers (Jude included)-- meanwhile she’s sipping her cup like “Hah yes it’s true, I will murder you all without batting a eyelash.”

Heather and Vivi are also there with Oak and having a good time considering they have some stupid deal where when they go back to the human world, they’re going to break up and Vivi will erase Heather’s memory. It’s even sadder because Heather seems to be regretting it and Vivi seems to be all about it. Jude is like… when I’m done with this whole “murdering my cat dad before he can murder my king husband” thing, this is next on the list.

OKAY.

OKAY….

So like… after the party…

Jude and Cardan go back to their bedroom, and this is the cutest fucking scene. They start making out and it’s getting super steamy up in there– Cardan picks her up against the wall, and the second she shows any sort of hesitation, he’s like “Okay we don’t have to.” (So sweet) But Jude is like no no, I’m cool. One sec. And she steps into her closet to compose herself, because she hates how inexperienced she is and how he’s an expert.

So this badass bitch gets completely naked, and steps out of the closet just to see the look on his face. Then she kneels and asks if this is what he imagined she’d be like when he thought about her obsessively in Hallow Hall. He’s like um yes. Exactly this. But with more groveling.

“So what did I do?” she asks.

“I imagined you telling me to do with you whatever I liked.” - he says, kind of mortified and scared of her. Like this is such a cute vulnerable moment from him where she has his heart in the palm of her hand. And yay Jude for discovering her sexy self, which like every other personality trait of hers, is also terrifying. Cardan’s into it though. And they have very sexy sex on the floor, which is fucking adorable and sweet and I love it so much, and I also know this means something TERRIBLE is about to happen.

(This was in Chapter 21 by the way!)

In Chapter 22, Maddock finally shows up. He wants to come parlay as per traditional fru fru tradition. The Bomb is like “How about this? How about I shoot him with an arrow?” and Cardan’s like “Nah, I’m not a coward. But I’m not going to duel him either.” – So everyone is just hanging out gathering for this like spectators. Even Vivi, Heather, and Oak who REALLY shouldn’t be there and I’m surprised everyone is okay with this. While they’re getting ready to have the parlay, Jude and Cardan have a little moment.

Before they go out there, Cardan comes out and says that he LOVES HER, and walks away all cool before she can reply, which drives her nuts. Jude realizes she’s loved him for a long time. She loved him before they got married. AUGH so SWEET.

Maddock comes in there like “Duel me. Lookit my big sword made by this master smith. I’ll even let you use it.”

Cardan’s like “I’m not going to fucking duel you, dude. And you better put that fucking sword down in my throne room, kay thanks.”

“Want me to put it down? Okay.” And he DRIVES the sword into the ground, which causes an earthquake so strong it makes the throne cut in half. Like this hundnreddsss year old throne that Cardan’s family has been protecting for generations, just destroyed. God Maddock is an ASSHAT.

Then Maddock starts spewing his shit like “Do you think your people actually care about you? Like your stupid murdered family ever cared about you? The only reason you accepted the crown was because you so desperately wanted to be accepted by your family. Your subjects don’t even like you. My army is super loyal. You suck. DUEL ME OR I KILL THE SEA QUEEN with my magic bullet that moves if I tell it to.”

Cardan has this interesting introspective moment and says “A king is not his crown. You’re right that loyalty or love shouldn’t be forced. But Elfhame shouldn’t be won or lost on a wager, either. You fuckin weird bloodthirsty old man.”

Cardan CRACKS THE BLOOD CROWN IN HALF and is like “The people shouldn’t swear loyalty to a crown. They should support the king they want to support. Your choice is your own.”

And boom, democracy is born in Elfhaim.

The folk are bowing their heads and nodding, totally on board the Cardan train. But then Grimsen interrupts everything by FREAKING OUT about his precious crown and how upset he is that it’s broken.

Jude remembers that everything Grimsen makes is cursed, just as Cardan’s eyes turn black, and the roses over the throne turn black, and his eyes start fucking BLEEDING BLACK and before she knows it, her adoring husband from the night before TURNS INTO A GIANT FUCKING BLACK SNAKE!!!!! *Pterodactyl scream* NNOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Grimsen says “It will poison the land. No true love’s kiss will stop it. No riddle will fix it. Only death.”

Maddock jumps on the opportunity and wants to kill the snake. Jude is like the FUCK you will. Her army seizes Maddock and his little posse. Snake Cardan bites and kills Grimsen, which kind of solidifies that his brain isn’t in there, because Cardan is very much against murdering people. It’s just pure chaos up in the throne room. There’s a cute part where Oak tries to save his mother with a little toy sword. Everyone runs away and the snake gets stabbed a little by Maddock but is okay, and it curls around the throne as Jude is dragged out the room.

Babygirl has herself a much-deserved panic attack. Grima Mog is like “Get a hold of yourself” and Jude says “I fucking will. I’m going to stand up. I’m going to be okay in a minute.” Grima is like “I know you will be.”

I like Grima Mog. I like her even though she’s like a bloodthirsty cannibal. What is it with this book and making me really like murderers?????

Alright so Jude immediately swings into badass bitch mode. Calls the Bomb. Tells her to go get intel on who out there is plotting her assassination and who is vying for the crown. She says not to ask questions. Murder anyone who looks like they’re trying to murder her. The Bomb is like yep. Roger that.  Calls her sister in. Tells Taryn she’s good at decorating things (like Locke’s house of debauchery). Asks her to make up a room to act as a throne room where she can talk to people and be scary and intimidating. Taryn is like yep. On it. She tells Grima Mog she is the new army general, because she doesn’t like the guy Cardan chose.

Jude gets all set up in her makeshift throne room since the real one is currently being guarded by a huge fucking snake. She sees the Living Council in there and starts planning on what to do about Maddock and his stupid fucking army and all of the courts that are currently splintering off trying to figure out who to be loyal to. She calls in Baphen and tells him to consult the stars for a way to cure Cardan. The Living Council is like “we should just kill the snake” and Jude is like “We’re not fucking killing the snake. Focus on Maddock.” So they talk that out and rally the troops.

Eventually the snake gets out lol it gets through the crack in the floor, and then runs around the land for a little bit doing snake stuff.

Wherever it touches rots and turns black. And people have gotten it in their heads that whoever slays the snake gets to be king, so it keeps getting attacked and killing indiscriminately. But eventually, it comes BACK because apparently the throne room is its den now. It curls around the broken throne and it’s snowing in there. The weather outside is also nuts and thunderstormy and hailing.

After her meeting, Jude enters the throne room and tries her hand at talking to the snake. She tries to see if there’s any recognition in its golden eyes, but there doesn’t seem to be. She tries to call on the land to heal him, but nothing happens. There’s a sweet part where she says out loud “Take my crown. Take my power. Take whatever you need, just heal him. Please.” — and even though the land or magic doesn’t answer her, I hope somewhere in there, Cardan heard her.

Okay so the prophecy said… that if Cardan ever came into the crown, the throne and the crown would be destroyed. But the prophecy also said that only if his blood is spilled, would a truly perfect leader emerge. I THINK this means that Jude is eventually going to have to slay the snake.

Jude hangs out in the snowy throne room with the snake for like HOURS until the Bomb comes. The snake has gotten used to Jude’s presence and doesn’t seem to want to attack her, so that’s something. It’s still impossible to tell if Cardan is in there though. I mean it doesn’t react to his name.

Anyway the Bomb says “Hi. I killed a ton of people that were plotting against you. You wanna come out of the snake room now?” And Jude says “Okay.” Just as Grima Mog comes back with word that Maddock wants to talk.

So they move her whole complicated throne set up outside because Jude is livid and doesn’t want these people anywhere near her fucking home and her cursed husband. I don’t know if I mentioned it earlier, but the people from the Court of Teeth are weird. They’re like ice faeries and they have this little girl who is their queen, but she’s just a puppet for her parents who keep her on a literal bridle. When they get there, the bridle is gone, but her skin is all scarred from where it was. And she’s in these horrible chains that look just as painful. Maddock shows up with that lovely family and isn’t wearing any armor.

He’s like “Hey. I never wanted to kill you. I actually quite like you. You wanna strike a deal? I’ll give you this bridle so you can control your snake husband. It was made by Grimsen and gives you complete control over whoever you want to restrain. That way you can remain queen and make sure your snake stops running around rotting the earth and killing anyone who tries to pierce its apparently impervious scales.”

Jude is like “You threw a bunch of men at it and figured out it’s unstoppable, didn’t you? What are you up to?”

“Make Oak marry this tiny icy abused child and you get the bridle.” Maddock says.

AND TO MY SHOCK AND HORROR, Jude is like “Okay.” — well she agrees to accepting the bridle on the terms that the war should be put on hold and it’s better for everyone if there isn’t a deadly toxic snake running around.

She doesn’t agree to the marriage. She agrees to have a bridling… event? Where she is going to attempt to bridle the snake, and if she wins then yay. If she fails and it kills her, then the armies are all gathered and can duke it out. She thinks Maddock is trying to rule through her the way she ruled through Cardan. Oh gosh I hope she’s up to  something and not actually considering putting that thing on the snake. That night, she throws a wadded up paper into the ocean that says “If you ever loved him, help me.”

Jude and the Bomb have a sweet convo and Jude goes to try to help the Roach, who is still poisoned. When Jude sees him, she’s horrified to find that he’s not just sleeping, he’s having like… nightmares. She tries to heal him, but the earth magic won’t come. The Ghost, who is part of the gang again (yay!) tells her not to force it, just let it come. AND IT DOES! The roach is back and confesses his love to the Bomb and it’s fucking adorable.

Jude takes the bridle to that old hag lady that once tried to trick Cardan into marrying her daughter. Now she’s good I guess haha. The hag tells her that if she followed the instructions Lord Nell or whatever his name is gave her, and tied her hair around the bridle, then she would have been bound to the snake as well. Basically, it was a trick that would have trapped both Jude and snake Cardan into servitude. Thank god she found this out.

Jude also visits Heather in the library who is researching snake-themed faerie tales looking for a clue. Heather tells her that she struck a deal with Vivi that when they go back to the human world, her memories will be erased. But Vivi will have to meet her again and win back her love. But do it properly this time and be honest about the faerie shit from the get-go. And if Heather falls in love with her despite that, she’ll get all her memories back. That’s super freaking sweet I love them.

There’s like a banquet before the snake bridling.

And Jude is doing her best to be a badass queen and make speeches, but she’s so nervous. She gets through it though. Her and Nicasia have this super sweet moment (after Kaye, Roiben’s lady punches her) where Nicasia is like “I know you’re a bloodthirsty monster who is only using Cardan for his power, but please save him. I beg of you.”

And Jude actually CRIES with her and says “Tell me the riddle I must solve. Tell me what to slay. What to sacrifice. And it’s done. I’ll do anything to free him. I promise you.” And they just stand there, two enemies, crying together and realizing how much they love this poor cursed snake boi.

Taryn and Vivi find a chest with some badass silver armor made for a woman, so Jude wears that to the big “snake bridling event” that is happening out in the woods somewhere.

The snake is out. Doing it’s thing. Turning the land to shit. The armies are gathered on either side, and everyone is watching Jude and waiting to see what happens. Will she bridle the snake or will she be eaten? It’s growing bigger too, so by now, it could swallow a car.

Jude has some internal monologue… where she actually wonders if bridling him is the right thing to do. She has no idea how to break the curse. This way, Cardan wouldn’t have to die. He’d be trapped as a poisonous snake forever, but at least he’d be by her side. But she also remembers what Cardan said before he got cursed. That no one should be forced to swear their love or allegiance. That’s the kind of thing you should decide for yourself. And she remembers that Cardan said something along the lines of “I was on my way to becoming Balekin. Becoming a monster. If I ever go down that path again, I want it to be you that ends me.” — SO SHE CUTS OFF THE SNAKE’S HEAD.

HE DEAD. There is blood EVERYWHERE.

And the second she does this, fighting breaks out. It’s just a bloodbath all around while Jude is in shock. Maddock’s army gets defeated because Nicasia shows up with the sea. But instead of trying to kill Jude, Maddock comes to help her up.

He tells her “You’ve already won. Look.” And turns her around to the snake where a bright golden light has emerged. And out of it steps naked-ass Cardan covered in blood and looking regal as hell.

“Only when his blood is shed will a great ruler emerge”

BOOM. He calls for the fighting to end and Jude runs and hugs him. They hang on to each other and it’s so sweet. THE BEST REUNION.

Someone literally is like “Welcome back, King! Here, you want this cloak?”

And Cardan goes “Nah. I haven’t worn clothes in days.”

And literally rides buck ass naked in the carriage, covered in blood. HAH. Like. Yeah nudity is a thing in Faerie world but alrighty. Here we go. Cardan is back and he’s not messing around.

Everybody gets a bath. The general mood is SO HAPPY and celebratory. There’s a big ole banquet where Cardan and Jude slip away to the pretty glowing mushroom room behind the throne (which he fixed with his magic and split into 2 chairs). They finally have a moment alone, and Jude blurts out “I love you.”

He’s like “You don’t have to say that out of pity.” — which breaks my heart. That he STILL thinks she hates him so much that she seriously never will love him. And he’s CONTENT with just being with her even if it’s just for power.

But Jude launches into this awesome, fumbling speech about how she liked him ever since they went out together during the revelrie, and he helped her learn about each court and how to win them over. She says being around him is fun. And walks through their whole history together to help him understand that despite her being a cold, unfeeling monster, she loves him to pieces.

And they kiss. And it’s fucking adorable.

Jude also asks him what it was like being a snake and he says it was hella weird. He definitely had an animal brain. And was filled with fear and strife and a feral instinct to kill indiscriminately. But he says, he knew Jude. That’s why he was calm when she came and sat with him. He always knew her. (Awww!!!)

The next day they have a formal coronation. Apparently 2 people have never ruled together. It’s always a king or queen who has a bunch of consorts. But they get the ceremony where the court gets asked if they accept their king and queen, and everyone says yes because Cardan is awesome and Jude is scary. But they like scary. Then they get to give out BOONS to all of the people that were loyal or traitorous.

Grima Mog gets to keep the earth-shattering sword and continue to be general. Taryn gets cleared of all charges even though she totally fucking murdered her husband. The ice princess with the bridle scars gets freed and her parents get put in her custody. And she gives a creepy shark-toothed grin that makes Jude think maybe her parents were keeping her in chains for a reason. But that’s their problem!

Maddock gets brought in and Jude sentences him to live in the mortal world for the rest of his days, and to forget the name he knows (she’s talking about the Ghost’s name). I like that her and Maddock totally come to this agreement. He’s like “Yeah, okay I lost. You’re absolutely a badass. I hate losing but I’m also pretty proud”. I think he was really sad when he thought he killed her. So this is a better punishment than getting executed for sure. Oriana decides to go with him and Oak is excited because he loves the mortal world and now his parents are going to live there too. YAY!

I love how this book ends. It ends with Jude and Cardan flying home with Vivi and Oak to the real world. And they find Cardan some normal clothes (a tshirt over his black pants) and they have a cute little party at Vivi’s apartment.

Heather is there and puts up a sign that is like “Congrats Newlyweds!” And says “Vivi has told me some wild things about ya’ll!” Jude just hugs her. They also got them a cake with little gummy snakes sprinkled on it. And Oak takes them to pick up pizza.

Heather also got everyone paper crowns, and there’s this cute part where Cardan tilts his paper crown at an angle, like he used to wear the Blood Crown and it makes Jude laugh. The book ends with them toasting to a new future, and pizza, and friends, and Cardan says “To scheming great schemes.”

I love that this is where we leave them. In casual real world clothes wearing paper crowns and eating gummy snakes.

Boy, I loved this book. I love the world building. I love the slow burn romance. The sexy times. I love that Holly Black makes me like and cheer for this cold hard bitch Jude. I love that Cardan, who at one time was SO NOT LIKEABLE it was CRAZY became one of my favorite characters in fiction.

I loved when that heel turn happened, when he was a prisoner of the spies, and was so cute and charming. We all fell in love with him at the same time Jude did.

Then we spent 2 books watching Jude be a complete idiot and be the last one in the world to realize how much he loved her. And how much she loved him. She loved him more than power, which was her single solitary goal this whole time.

This mortal girl overtook a bunch of magical immortals and it was completely believable and fun and baffling. Damn I can see why Holly Black is so highly regarded. That was SO GOOD. I am going to need a few days to digest this.

I just keep thinking of them all happy and celebrating together over pizza and paper crowns. EEEEE!!!

Deadass Rating: 9.5/10

[the-priestess-of-dawn]

I just came across your hcs for Grima interacting with Morgan and I was wondering if you had any for Severa, Inigo, and Owain as Grima's children.

Sure, I have some thoughts! These of course assume an AU where Grima and their kids are on the same side, but you can decide for yourself whether that's because Grima was swayed away from the apocalypse or because Grima convinced their kids to do evil with them.

Severa

One time I played a sorcerers-only run of Awakening and discovered that while Cordelia can become a sorcerer, she nevertheless is REALLY BAD at it due to having a terrible growth rate in magic. When I recruited Severa, she was like... immediately better than her mother, even as an unpromoted dark mage. And so I imagine that Grima would really encourage her development in this area, because it puts her far outside her mother's shadow. With Grima as her parent, she could presumably excel in any class, but I think she'd make a great dark knight, using both swords and magic like Grima did as a tactician. Training together fosters a close relationship between them, and Severa's protective streak comes out in full force should anything threaten Grima. Grima's very proud of her strength! And oh, how they'd spoil her for her devotion... Girl gets EVERYTHING she asks for because Grima will go to any lengths for anyone who stays by their side.

Inigo

Grima knows all about performances... Giving the world what (Grima thinks) it wants is Grima's whole thing. Naturally, they teach Inigo how to pick up on subtle cues, how to read the underlying meaning of other people's words and actions, how to play on the audience's expectations and use them to his own advantage. Now, Inigo is fully prepared to go forth and... no, no, not another tea invitation, damn it! (Grima does NOT approve of the girl obsession. The ungrateful worms don't even like Inigo??? Why is he wasting his time, effort, and talent on these lowly insects???)

Owain

Oh, you KNOW Grima gives Owain very serious speeches about fell power and despair and ruin and darkness and whatnot. And then Owain goes around excitedly parroting Grima's every word. If the Brand of the Defile is visible on him like the Brand of the Exalt is, he will literally never shut up about it. He has the blood of the gods in him! He is the scion of destruction! This power is his destiny! And Grima... Well, Grima never thought anyone would be so excited to be related to the fell dragon. Frankly, it seems to them more like a curse than anything... But Owain's unabashed joy in imitating Grima touches something in their empty heart. They do, however, dread the day the world's judgment sinks its claws into Owain, lest he come to hate his power... and Grima themself... the same way Grima does.

[mollyringle]

Tears in LOTR

Here's another super-geeky text-and-film analysis I gathered on LOTR in 2004. This time I searched on when the characters are in tears.

Since everyone's been talking so much about how ROTK makes them cry, and since I've been impressed at the ability of the actors to get all weepy themselves, I thought I'd do a search in the actual book and catalog all the times the characters are in tears. Here is the full list of quotations, from searches on the words "tears," "weep," and "wept." ("Cry" is only used as "shout," in Tolkien, it seems.) The full list of tears in the book is here - tumblr won't let me post something so long. So have a look there if you want. Then: Conclusions from the book: 1) Sam is in tears quite a lot. 2) So is Gollum. 3) So are hobbits in general. 4) Faramir and Theoden are popular guys, judging from the amount of tears they inspire. Now, compare to the tears in the films: FOTR: Sam looks close to tears when Frodo is stabbed at Weathertop. Arwen lets a tear fall on Frodo while rescuing him. Bilbo cries a bit after he nearly attacks Frodo in Rivendell. Sam looks close to tears while letting Bill go outside Moria. Gimli grieves on the tomb of Balin. Sam looks close to tears when Frodo gets attacked by the cave troll. Sam, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin cry after Gandalf's fall. Boromir weeps a little after attacking Frodo. A tear falls down Aragorn's face after Boromir's death. Frodo and Sam weep on each other in the boat. TTT: Children and mothers being attacked by Orcs weep. Eowyn cries over her cousin's death. Eowyn sheds tears of joy when Theoden recovers. Eowyn gets tears in her eyes when thinking Aragorn is dead. Eowyn gets tears in her eyes when Aragorn returns alive. Theoden weeps over his son's grave. Arwen sheds tears when Elrond tells her Aragorn will die. Frodo has tears in his eyes when Gollum brings him the rabbits. Gollum curls up crying when Faramir captures him. Grima sheds a tear upon seeing Saruman's army. Women, children, and men weep at being separated in Helm's Deep. Merry seems to have tears in his eyes when getting frustrated by the Ents. Sam gives his speech toward the end in tears. Frodo is very nearly weeping during Sam's speech. ROTK: Smeagol weeps during his transformation into Gollum. Merry gets tears in his eyes when parting from Pippin. Arwen sheds a few tears at the vision of her son. Denethor appears to have tears in his eyes when grieving for Boromir. Faramir gets choked up when Denethor turns him away. Sam weeps when Frodo tells him to go home. Pippin seems about to cry at the end of his song. Arwen sheds a tear in Aragorn's dream. Eowyn seems about to weep when Aragorn turns her down. Denethor seems about to weep when thinking Faramir is dead. Frodo seems about to weep when realizing Gollum has trapped him in Shelob's lair. Frodo has tears in his eyes when telling Gollum he has to destroy the Ring "for both our sakes." Sam weeps over Frodo after the Shelob incident. Citizens are crying during the attack on Minas Tirith. Eowyn weeps over Theoden on the battlefield. Sam begins weeping when describing spring-in-the-Shire to Frodo, and pretty much keeps it up till the time of the Eagle rescue. Frodo joins Sam in weeping "at the end of all things." Merry, Pippin, and Sam (and all fifty million viewers) weep at the Grey Havens. Did I miss any? My main conclusion of note is that they seem to have made the women a lot weepier in the movie versions. Overall, though, the pattern of tears is pretty similar between book canon and movie canon. This suggests to me that, as we already knew, they preserved the emotional heart of the story quite well for the films, whatever other changes they made.

[fellincantation]

Was this what it felt like to be wanted? Would another elder Fell Dragon truly have wanted her by their side? She had struggled for over two thousand years trying to bring about her vengeance and had razed places to the ground in the process. She had succeeded in one future and came back to ensure her victory in another. Perhaps Grima was more human than she had previously thought, allowing such thoughts to sit inside her head. She shouldn't let things like that worm their way inside her emotions. She crushed that hope in her heart and continued the conversation.

"Gradlon... So that is where the others are found." Grima said, thinking about it briefly. She hoped to see such a place in the future. "Hm... To the humans of my world, I was a terrifying force to behold. I was born of dragon blood and human intervention. Humans found my form terrifying and rejected me completely when they realized my power was too much for them. So much of their fear was because I was too strong. In the end, it led to who I am today."

Grima felt compelled to share with Zephia. To hear more of her praise and acknowledgment. Grima should be above this and yet she continued. She would be recognized for what she had done. Praised and revered. Perhaps Zephia's Lord would accept her as well.

"What's more is I have seen my own victory. Ensured it. I have won in the distant future I have come from. I managed to return to my vessel at an earlier point in time to make sure my plan came to fruition all over again." Grima said, smiling just a bit. Her smile was twisted and full of dark amusement. "Another thing. Lord Sombron is your leader and who you follow but you must be similarly important in his plans. As such... I suppose I should call you Lady Zephia."

Consider This as My Goodbye

fellincantation:

Grima listened carefully to Zephia's words. Every word filled her with a strange feeling she couldn't quite identify. To be told there was more of her kind in the world and that she was something somebody wanted wasn't something Grima would have ever thought she would hear. So she stood quietly, looking Zephia in the eye with a hard stare. This strange dragon wanted to help her. To destroy every Divine Dragon in existence would bring Grima nothing but joy. Still...

"That... Is strange to know." Grima said, unsure of where to start. She wasn't a naturally born creature. She was created by a madman. Were the other Fell Dragons the same? Or were they truly a race of creatures born into the world? "I... Was not born of natural means. Your lord... Sombron. It sounds as if he was. To have fathered many fell dragons must mean he has a body of his own then. Hm. Where I am from Fell Dragon is given to me as a title due to the circumstances of my creation. However... Regardless of the circumstances of my birth, I am no less a god than your lord must be."

Grima was still a terribly proud woman. Even if she was quietly thrilled at the idea that more of her kind existed she couldn't let herself fall prey to juvenile excitement. Perhaps Grima was wrong about where she came from. Had her creator taken Sombron's blood? That couldn't be possible. Such a childish fantasy. Sombron's name didn't come up anywhere in history that Grima knew.

"If your lord wishes to put an end to all Divine Dragons then I will lend my aid. I am the proudest Fell Dragon you could have found on this horrible planet. I would not have failed him as those defects had."

How interesting. Zephia had never met a Fell Dragon who was created rather than born, though she supposes that things may have been different wherever Lord Sombron originally came from. She did not know much about what his life had been before Elyos, before she had met him.

Regardless of the circumstances, it pleases her greatly to see a Fell Dragon here at the academy, one who could understand her more... extracurricular ambitions. If she somehow succeeded in bringing Lord Sombron to this place, she would have to introduce him to this curious girl.

Besides that, she imagines... if her selfish little dream had ever managed to come true, her child may have looked much like the girl in front of her now, and that fact all but seems to drive another thorn into her still beating heart.

"Dear, I doubt anyone could ever consider you a defect with that attitude. Lord Sombron would have considered you a great creation, so long as you wouldn't have failed him. I doubt you would have, had you been born as his child. How unfortunate that you should have been born into a place where no one wanted you... if only you had been born in Gradlon then... But sincerely, you are perfect, I would never have any idea how someone could consider you anything less."

[dentos-wife]

Let’s talk about Grima and how the characterization has changed a bit since Awakening, where let’s be honest there’s not much character there. But I feel like the little amount we got only of the Grimas portrays the original character now. I’ve been watching people fight over this back and forth in various places so I did a comparison and brought in some friends who don’t know Fire Emblem for their thoughts.

TLDR version: MGrima is the only one who captures the world ending hateful fell dragon vibe while FGrima has been feminized and softened because she’s the girl version and I hate it when media does this

With their base versions it was more like the Corrins or the Byleths general same message but a squint or you miss it difference

Male:

“I am the wings of despair. I am the breath of ruin. I am the fell dragon, Grima. Pay me the respect I am due, and I promise you a painless death”

Female:

“I am the wings of despair. I am the breath of ruin. I am the fell dragon, Grima. Pay me the respect I am due, and I will consider granting you a quick death when the time comes.“

Super similar, the boy however comes off as more threatening, no when the time comes or considering it. This is where the tiny differences started

Castle lines

Male:

“Ha. You fight for world peace? Stay your tongue. Such pretty little words sicken me.”

“My mind becomes muddy when I try to recall certain things... A side effect of traveling through space and time? Curse this frail body.”

“You fight for the happiness of all the people in this world? Hahaha, tell me... Did you come up with that little motto all by yourself? Go on, you can tell me what your heart truly desires.”

“You show promise, despite being human. If you continue to appease me, I may let you serve me.”

“Rite after rite, and still my memories refuse to return. This is beyond infuriating.. Maybe I'll go start a war to cheer myself up.”

Female:

“Wriggle like a worm trying to escape my boot, or die squished like a worthless maggot. Either way, you are little more than an insect.”

“Ugh... My splitting head... I remember nothing of my time in that other world... Nothing at all.”

“How about you stop pretending to be so selfless and tell me what you really wish for? Maybe I can grant it...”

“You show promise, despite being human. Of course, that's like being the smartest worm in the dirt. But still... I see enough in you that I could entertain the idea of keeping you by my side.”

“Memories or no, I will lay waste to the world all the same. You think me so fickle I'd change my mind?”

Still very similar but the male has slightly more personality by laughing and making little remarks here and there that the female doesn’t, still subtle though not a big deal it’s in what you prefer like most with an avatar preference and it’s still the same base character, however the female for whatever reason does come off as softer

Let’s do their confessions

Male

“You are a curious one... You willingly come to chat with me? The fell dragon? Alone? You know full well how I detest humans. They have no qualms asking for divine assistance when it meets their fickle needs... But how quick they are to shun their benefactors once they get what they desire. They become arrogant and make the same mistakes repeatedly, incapable of learning the folly of their ways. They claim their actions are for the good of others, but that's merely a show of self-indulgence. Humans are selfish. And the ugliness of mankind has turned me repulsive. It's the world that wants me to be evil. And yet you claim to need me here? Enough of your lies, worm. How dare you look at me with such a gaze. Do not dare pity me!”

Female

“Come to butter me up some more? How very irksome. I've nothing to chat about with a human. Humans spout their ideals, but it's nothing but lip service. Let's all join together and hold hands, you'll say. We can overcome our differences despite being different species, despite our differing core ideologies. The truth is what you see daily in this place. Day after day, night after night, all you have is never-ending war. One person's satisfaction means another must suffer. That is the truth of all worlds. But my power of destruction is the one true equalizer. If you think there's someone out there capable of leading the world with such high-minded ideas of love and bonds... I'd love to meet them. Hmph. After all that, you still talk your big talk? Very well. I'll watch over you... Right until your bitter end.“

It’s still extremely slight but the differences become more clear here, They’re the same lines but the male is more angry and the female more bitter. However it’s the same character. Granted if it were up to me the girl would just have the boys lines since Awakening they are the same but I get it, no one wants a copy. This was a good way to do the similar but different vibe of them though it still does have the female can’t be as angry stereotype bleeding through. It’s not perfect I’d make her angrier but it could be a lot worse. And then it gets worse…

Let’s talk about the Halloween alts because that’s when everything completely goes haywire. The outfits for one

Okay so yes this is a silly festival and both are fanservice it’s a fanservice game I get that but which one comes off as a more imposing force? The male’s ears look real his claws look sharp he actually looks like a threat goofy outfit or not. The female on the other hand has costume ears and booty shorts. She looks like a parody of the boys outfit.

She got an outfit like this because she’s a girl. But sadly it doesn’t stop there. The *lines* even sound like a parody

Male:

“If I had my way, this absurd festival would not exist...since there would be nothing but ruin in my wake.”

"Trick or treat?" Pah. Try "the utter destruction of the world, or treat." And I do not have a sweet tooth.

“Giving thanks for the harvest? Hmph. Of course you worms would waste time on something so meaningless. Resources exist to be consumed. It's as simple as that.”

“Before you play a trick on me, think hard of the consequences. Surely even a worm like you can imagine it”.

“You think I'm enjoying all this? Perhaps in your complacency you've forgotten the danger you're in.”

Female:

“I hoped to find the power I seek at this harvest festival... But it seems that was a mistake.”

“Festivals are nothing more than a brief reprieve from despair. The vain struggle of a worm...”

“Submit or suffer!...Must I say "trick or treat"? How dull.”

“If you intend to play a trick on me, it will be your last. Such foolishness is absolutely intolerable.”

“Costumes are a fool's amusement. Who was it who said it would be enjoyable, again? I'll kill them first.”

But hey I liked MGrima since his debut, loved his personality so I could be coming into this with a bias. So! I asked some friends who knew nothing about FE hey what vibe do these characters give off and is it the same vibe? Here’s their lines have fun. Here’s the result of that conversation

“I know this is not a general way to tell quality but . . . Male Grima dialogues are not only richer but also way longer in both cases lol and honestly? They could very well be saying the same here, the dialogue should stay the same or almost the same here they're supposed to treat the same topic with SMALL variations, since they're supposed to be the same person you know? But each convo seems to be about something completely different. He comes out to me as emo (in the most positive way), while she's supposed to be Btchy Daughter of Actual Evil Boss. He's somewhat menacing, and the way he talks makes him look (from my POV) like a depressing person to be around, a party pooper. YET I guess his words are too strong for a girl's mouth so that's why she gotta be cute about this instead. She can't be too deep or serious, that's not interesting in a girl”

Agree? Disagree?

The confessions are honestly the best example of this problem because one is uh not as deep let’s say

Male:

“It seems you possess a grave misunderstanding of the harvest festival, [Summoner]. You may celebrate nature's bounty, but remember that there are winners and losers in every exchange. For you to gain something, someone else must lose it. What brings joy to you casts bitter sorrow upon another. Those without the will or power to resist can only be crushed underfoot. Such is the nature of the harvest. Now you see the world through the Fell Dragon's eyes. Thus, I ask you: Are you the hunter or the hunted? Consider well your path. For my part, I will continue to reap the harvest's bounty through ruin and despair!”

Female:

“Enjoy your short lives while you can, worms. Before long, utter darkness will smother you... Although... These sweets are quite palatable. Subtle sweetness with a delicate mouthfeel, I— Yah! How long have you been there, [Summoner]?! What did you hear?! No, nothing! There was nothing TO hear. Yes. I wish to harvest ruin and despair. Sweets harbor no interest for me. But next time the harvest festival comes around, I expect an invitation. Promise me, lest I am forced to destroy this world. You understand...”

From another friend who also knows nothing about FE

“The male one sounds like he's speaking from experience, like he's witnessed or taken part in many wars or other kinds of conflicts, and has crushed people who believed they were more powerful than him with his own hands The female one's personality is closer to a tsundere“

Look at how you can actually get Grima’s personality from his lines and not so much the girl. Now imagine flipping them. The male is the tsundere candy lover and the girl is the ancient old dragon, does that make you realize how weird it is?

MCorrin and FCorrin have matching halloween alts in comparison and even have the same lines with slight differences, they’re like twins

Which is what you’d expect with the literal same character just in a different body. Alas...

Which now brings us to the next alt of all, based off this cipher card

Boobs! And sexualization to the max, the hehe I’m evil pose? the daintiness it’s so...

Her lines too, she whispers “devote yourself to me entirely” seductively, I bet they will not do that with the male, if they do I’ll eat my words and gladly

So I showed my friend this one’s lines and says hey thoughts?

“the dominatrix fetish is too blatant, but like not in a cool way you know, the classical of a girl that is introduced as this ruthless being of doom but gets nerfed mid-story when she falls in love with the unremarkable plain male prota of this proto harem, and she like . . . Has Been Secretly Soft And Needy All This Time and literally drops everything she's after to become An Ideal Wife for the male prota, picks up feminine interests and hobbies in hopes to be more appealing to him that's the vibes I get from this female Grima or whatever she's supposed to be“

She’s very curious what the matching males lines are going to be

But this brings me to my point why is Grima so different depending on if he has a male or female vessel? It really shouldn’t be this way, in Awakening Grima’s lines were exactly the same no matter if it was MRobin or FRobin because Grima is a murderous humanity hating dragon but since Halloween...man you do not get that vibe from the girl anymore. You do from the boy. I know why it’s like this sex sells yada yada yada. I also know the boy gets some of it like the damage art but that’s damage art, almost everyone has it, FGrima here goes above and beyond that to softening her lines and doing an evil queen vibe and that’s a crime dammit!

Like yeah I know the base does this to both and it’s fine when it’s the fanbase but when CANON does it to only one of them, it’s flat out sexism

MGrima alt based off this cipher card when? If hers was based off the cipher card I doubt he’s sharing her outfit but if he does I demand the same girly pose; it’s equality

And then once they’re matched up again stop with the Grimas and never bring them out again, we didn’t need this many Grimas go back to Robin. I like Grima I’ll take his alts (no longer the girl unless they stop the uh fetishing tbh I’m a little uncomfortable with this recent one...) but this is a crime for both Robin now. FRobin being an GHB unit has no resplendent and no version in the main pool. She unlike MRobin did get a seasonal to herself earlier this year though. In comparison MRobin has a resplendent but if you don’t count the duo and some don’t because Chrom is the lead, hasn’t gotten an alt to himself since 2017. And since we got FGrima sounds like he has to wait longer for that since MGrima would drop first.

Unless we get an MRobin to go with this FGrima but that opens up even *more* sexualization issues; FRobin is only popular when evil and sexy so that’s the alt she gets while the male gets to be himself? Eeeh that’s really gross. So in that regard I hope we get one more MGrima and they’re shoved in the closet for good, allowing the real Robin’s to shine. Halloween was a neat idea the werewolf represented the Robin to Grima connection in a cool way considering werewolf lore and it was a good alt choice well...for the one who actually looked like a werewolf...

I know this is a problem of female sexualization and FE is not the only franchise where this is a problem but man GRIMA?!

And okay you could argue well M and F Robin are probably the most difference in personality avatars we have and you’re right but that makes it even stranger. FRobin is ever so slightly meaner and harsher than MRobin who is a little kinder. So then why would having Grima take over make MRobin the meaner and harsher one shouldn’t it stay on FRobin?

I only like the characterization on MGrima at this point, Girlma (as I call her) now feels like a completely different character, a toned down female parody of the other and it’s a damn shame even the creature that wiped out all of humanity and sent the world into despair got the “girls need to be sexy or cute” treatment.

Anyway that’s just me, FGrima fans you guys are cool if you like her that’s wonderful don’t take this as an attack or anything I just wanted to write out my thoughts that have been bothering me since the Halloween alts which should have been the final Grima alts but...you know money

[with-the-same-tattoos]

What are some things you noticed about Grima that you like in particular? Sincerely, someone who also desperately wants to talk about Grima.

GBLESSGBLESSGBLESS u r a blessed being........... ok im gonna ramble for a bit im gonna add some gifs n pics to not make this a complete slob of text bc. Yeah.

I'm gonna clarify that I am talking about Brad Dourifs Grima- I'm not far at all w the books, my opinion may change via them? But i think mr Dourif did a wonderful depiction of him, and I'm. Simply in love.

Starting off w the appearence bcs its defi the easiest to explain....

I do see the bummer notions about ppl calling him ugly and I.... yk, I don't like it, I know my taste in features is kinda off the beaten path, but it still rly bums me out imo hes incredibly beautiful? I loooove the toning of his face- the deadly grey pale is so full of small hints of different tones, the yellowing rot, the reddened flush around his eyes, the blue hues it attracts...... he is like a chameleon.... its v nice... also i like how his skin rests on his face: he is a bit more aged so it isn't as tight anymore, and gives the lovely angles of his chin and jaws even more weight.... i looove his big wet expressionful eyes and i loove his hair its GORGEOUS wet like a fish, he could be a mythical beast from the swamp come to listen to singing. He is SO beautiful. gOD. Also i love his awkward lil posture and expressions.

More on what I like abt his personality tho....

I loved mr Dourifs quote about him being someone who had been bullied & felt lonely, and just wanted to be wanted. I just rbd that one post abt guys who are awkward and resentful/entitled towards women, and tbh Grima feels like one of those- expect i feel like he might not have felt entitled pre-saruman stuff. Ill explain uhh lets see.

This is my reading of him as a character taken from a few hints. It's probably complete shit. Im not good at analysis.

I think a fun thing abt Grima is how emotionally open he is. He is very expressionate, very honest, very bad at hiding his true intentions. Talking about Theodens son- he sounds completely dismissive, as if moving from a subject he doesn't care about, just to break the ice, despite the situation being incredibly grave (lack of empathy), looking at Eowyn (i mean, the bro could have punched him on the spot why would he admit his feelings so openly) and he straight up has a scheming face.... he is a very emotive man for someone who's supposed 2 be slithery and secret-ful, i don't think he is. I actually think it'd be fun if he'd been picked by Theoden for the work of advisor pre-lotr events bc he was so shit at lying and was probs a lot nicer then. Probably very good at noticing little things, he seems fairly anxious (even tho he's bad at hiding his... vibe, hes constantly still planning?) He could tbh be a very good advisor who thinks things through.

I think this heart on your sleeve personality could have been one of the reasons why he felt so outcasted- a lot of people like that, me included, who are very openly emotional and easy to read, are made fun for it bc it is a lot to some?

Aside from people , i guess, making fun of his appearence, which sucks.

The lotr plays with a lot of themes of corruption. There isn't some inherent evil, evil is made n all that. For Grima I see that corrupting push as Saruman etc. He had these bad things inside him, insecurity, hatered, want, but i like to think that because he was originally surrounded by fairly good people, he didn't listen to that side of himself. He could have been in a better enviroment defi, where those feelings could have been mended and worked through, but the corruption spread to him through Saruman, making those selfish, cruel thoughts bubble to the surface, making them overtake him. Not completely, because oh. My. Fucking. God. Look at this shit.

That is not the face of victory, certainty, that is the face of devastation & desperation. HE LOOKS SO FUCKING SAD YO?

"Oh, but you are alone. Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?"

And when your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you, are these not the words of a man who lays awake at night, feeling hot and cold, tight chested, questioning everything, flipping between emotions all of which hurt so bad? Im sorry but LOOK AT HIM HES SO FUCKING SAD STFU HES SO UNSURE OF HIMSELF. He has really bad thoughts and feelings and he has been feeling vindicated for them because someone, the corruption, is finally validating those feelings, but it breaks when he looks in the eyes of the one he loves and ....

I also see it in him after Saruman slaps him. (First of all- that yelp? Screaming.....) since I kinda see him as having gained some kinda validation/comfort from Saruman, even confidence, the expression he makes when he looks back at Saruman is like. So devastating. I like 2 think it was him full of anger after the one person who had made him feel validated/wanted, betrayed him. Would explain also why his flip was so so fast.

I also defi just have this desperation to feel needed & desired, bad mindset born from growing up as the ugly & undesirable person- any kind of show of attraction feels like flattery to me, because im just. Not used to it, I will take anything I get. The way Grima thinks of Eowyn is incredibly unhealthy, but god the way he looks at her? I would just. Do anything if I could have someone look at me like that once in my life. Spin some poetry about how pretty I am. This is like mad unhealthy & im aware of it, but I can't get over it ; . ; his desire is so beautiful to me, esp bc he is so beautiful & so interesting & so.... studyable.... idk how else to explain this.....

Also his hands? So gucci. Wanna hold them.

Anyways this has been page 1 of my 700 page essay, next I will be discussing-

[angrylittletrashpanda]

What if Locke snuck into Madoc’s bedroom instead of Taryn’s

Locke felt a chill running down his spine. After all sneaking into Grand General’s stronghold without getting caught is no mean feat! Stars flickered, the sweet scent of roses was floating in the air. The breeze was as warm and moist as sin. That night the boy turn into a brave knight from a ballad, a fearless knight going to save a fair maiden from the clutches of a genuine monster. Locke was definitely no fighter, so instead of sword he wielded just a beautiful lyre. Wasn’t it a weapon enough to conquer the girl’s heart and pluck the red flower of her virginity?

The lad looked up and grinned, noticing the balcony door was open. Locke climbed a blooming apple tree, hopped on the balcony and snuck into the spacious bedroom. Liriope’s son raised his brows, pretty surprised with severity of the chamber he found himself in. How could ladylike, gentle Taryn live in this cell, lacking in any decorations, except from banners and two sabers on the wall? There were a very few pieces furniture in the chamber – only a carved wooden closet, a bedside table, a massive mahogany desk and a chair that looked pretty uncomfortable. In the middle of the room there was, four-poster canopy bed. Locke looked again at the crossed sabers. It isn’t Taryn’s room! – He realized. It’s Jude’s! He couldn’t have committed  a luckiest mistake! The boy smiled to himself, took the lyre off his back and sat on a wooden chair. Yes, it actually was extremely uncomfortable. That was Jude all over! Beautiful, full-figured Jude, anxious to become a knight and willing to get used to harsh conditions.  Locke looked at the bed with amused indulgence. He wouldn’t have guessed dainty Jude snores so loudly. Liriope’s son uttered a mirthful laughter then hit the strings with his fingertips and began to sing.

Oh lady fair, daughter of clay

I came to wash your tears away

A slave enthralled with your bright eyes

Effulgent lips and well – shaped thighs.

I came to sweeten this lonely night

Aching to hear your lovesome sighs

Leaving behind all of my shame

I came to taste you, oh my flame.

The canopy billowed, Locke shivered with excitement. Just a little while and he’ll have one of Grand General’s precious daughters in his arms. The boy was glad that instead adorable mellow Taryn he would taste fierce, hard-hitting Jude, as tart as sour cherries. What a lucky mistake – Locke thought once again. He couldn’t have been more wrong!

From behind the curtains emerged a tall man of sturdy arms and tousled fair hair. His gaping nightshirt revealed countless scars on his broad chest, his golden, split-pupiled eyes were glinting like the sharpest of blades.

“Are you fuckin’ crazy?” – Madoc yelled, getting right up to Locke in a single bond. The boy tried to draw back,  making the Grand General even more furious. At the drop of a hat Madoc whipped Locke’s beautiful lyre off the boy’s hands. “How dare you break into my house in the middle of the night willing to solicit me, you pervy little shit!” – The redcap growled, taking a swipe. Locke sprang back, spun around and make a step towards the window. The Grand General followed him. “Have you no shame? I am married!” – Madoc exclaimed, “Married! Married!” – He gnarred, swinging the lyre as hard as he could. Locke, startled and panicked, apparently had stumbled the way to get out of Grand General’s bedroom. “Married!” – the redcap cried out, “And the fact that my lawful wedded wife went to see her mother does not entitle you to seducing, I mean harassing me!” This time Locke failed to avoid Madoc’s strike, the lyre hit his head with a thud.

“I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget, you no good layabout!”- He exclaimed, hitting Locke again and again. “I swear, you’d never feel like breaking into decent people’s abodes and molesting the master of a house again!”

“Have mercy, Lord Grand General, Have mercy!” – the boy squeaked. “Trust me, forcing myself on you was the last thing I wanted! I came to visit your daughter Taryn!” Madoc froze, as though he was  stricken lifeless with a thunderbolt. Taking this opportunity, Locke  dived through the window and scampered off into the night. The Grand General sighed and picked up a sheet of paper that had fallen out of the boy’s pocket. To his displeasure, Madoc recognized his seal and Taryn’s handwriting.

“You have a son, you watch the son. You have a daughter, you watch the entire neighborhood”, - the redcap sighted and headed forward Taryn’s bedroom. It was with a heavy heart that the Grand General knocked at the door.

“Give me a second, I’m coming,” – the redcap  heard his girl’s sweet voice. Thank gods you’re not, -Madoc thought, not without malice. After a while Taryn, flushed and wrapped in her far-too-fancy dressing-gown, showed up at the door. She looked every inch a demure young lady, yet the Grand General was not that easy to deceive, at least not after he had heard Locke’s stupid, dirty song.

“What’s the matter, Dad?” – Taryn asked, innocently fluttering her eyelashes. The Grand General said nothing, just showed his daughter the letter.

“You have understand, Dad, that I am not a little girl anymore. And I can’t help I’m pretty popular with boys,” – She chirped.

“Yes, I agree, you aren’t a baby girl anymore, so you must be aware you put your good reputation at risk. You can also guess your mother and I don’t want our daughters to become an object of either derisions or malicious gossip. You ought to leave the Isles of Elysium for some time, I mean until the rumors die down,” – Madoc said matter-of-factly. To his delight the mortal humbly hung her head in shame. Corners of his mouth curled in a smile – it seemed like Taryn, essentially a good girl, realized her mistake, but the truth was the young woman lowered her gaze so that her father wouldn’t see immense relief written across her face. A trip to a foreign court? Is it actually a punishment?  - She though, surprised. He’ll probably send me to the Court of Termites, where I will be dancing at revels, dally with fairy knights, and most of all, Jude is not going to spoil my fun.

“Where am I supposed to go, Father,” – She asked with anticipation, hoping Madoc won’t hear happiness in her voice.

“Can't believe you’ve actually asked me this question, Taryn,” – the Grand General raised his eyebrows, “Of course you will head over to the Court of Teeth where your aunt will start teaching you the military arts and battle strategies. Admittedly Grima Mog doesn’t agree with many of my views, but she’ll certainly help you get this Locke boy out of your head and in your spare time, she’ll teach you how to cook.”

“Say what?” – Taryn exclaimed. “Anything, please, anything but that!”- She cried out.

“It’s already settled, my girl. Tomorrow you’ll pack up and go to the north. Off to bed, you need to get some sleep now,” – He said crisply and departed with the feeling of a well-completed duty.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

‘Gríma—is that your Gríma? It is. Gálmód don’t keep the boy standing.’ Around his father comes another face he had not thought to see until death. His grandmother, Ragna, leans on a sturdy blackthorn staff, eyeing him critically. ‘Too skinny by half. They’re starving you wherever it is you’ve landed.’ ‘Edoras,’ Gríma sighs. ‘Why do you want to be there?’ She jostles Gálmód’s arm. ‘Why is he there? Why did he leave us, again? He should be with Uhtric helping with the autumn drive.’ ‘He left for his own reasons,’ Gálmód replies. ‘Best you ask him why he is in Edoras.’ ‘You spoiled him too much,’ Ragna tuts. ‘That is why he felt he could leave his kith and kin to travel to foreign lands—’ ‘Edoras is hardly foreign, mother.’

‘It is not of us or our people. Besides, he was supposed to take over your brother’s position when he died. Now who will do it? Uhtric’s sons? They’re daft as two planks nailed together. Only one man in this family was born with brains and it’s him.’ ‘Hardly a full man on account of you know what—’ a cousin from the table starts. Gríma rolls his eyes. ‘Quiet, Magni,’ Ragna snaps. ‘Your opinion on the seiðr matter is not required at this juncture.’ To Gríma she orders, ‘You must eat. You’re too skinny. You’ll develop some terrible city fever and then what? You’ll die.’ ‘I’m fine—’ Gríma insists.   ‘Mother, he’s alive,’ Gálmód says. ‘He can’t eat of our food. Not unless he wishes to die, and I believe that is not his intent.' ‘Nonsense,’ Ragna shakes Gálmód’s conciliatory hand off her shoulder. ‘The boy was always too small. I told you: goat’s heart, soup from the fat of a deer’s head, thistle, and good, white bread. That would have seen him as strong as his brother Uhtric. I told your wife that too, but she wouldn’t have it. That’s what’s wrong, you know, she left and the boy never recovered—’ ‘I’m fine,’ Gríma repeats. ‘I told you she was no good,’ Ragna continues. ‘I told you—that’s what happens when you marry flighty girls with no head on their shoulders. Cease before you start in on your sister’s defense,’ Ragna shakes a finger at Leofgyd, ‘you’re not as bad but I still think you should have heeded my advice. Especially when the winter fever struck—’ ‘This is entirely unnecessary, grandmother. I’m fine. Everyone is fine.’ ‘Hardly fine, look at you. You’re off your food.’ ‘I’m not off my food.’ ‘You’re off your food. Where do you break bread? At whose table do you take meat?’ ‘The king’s, grandmother, I’m Éomarc’s Law Speaker.’ ‘Shut-up, no you’re not,’ cousin Magni laughs.

‘Assuredly I am,’ Gríma replies. ‘I’ve the honour of being Law-Speaker and chief advisor to the king.’ ‘The king made the second son of a goat herder his Law Speaker? Never.’ ‘It is hardly my fault, Magni, that you’ve not the imagination to envision such a thing.’

wherein Grima has a Mulan Moment(tm) with his dead relatives.

I don't know if this bit will make it into the final version of the chapter, but it amused me so you all get to see it

[essays-for-breakfast]

Puppet

Summary: It’s like waking up from a dream. Fog wafts at the corners of my vision, and the taste of sulphur sits all across my mouth. But this is no dream. The blood on my hands proves it. I have killed Chrom.

Author Notes: This Fire Emblem Awakening fanfic contains spoilers for the Future Past DLC and all of Awakening. It is about as dramatic as the summary suggests. Read at your own risk.

It’s like waking up from a dream. Fog wafts at the corners of my vision, and the taste of sulphur sits all across my mouth. I reach for my head to squeeze the aching out of my temples, but it only worsens. Each labored breath I draw in drives another needle into my head.

What happened? Didn’t Chrom and I face off against Validar?

As one!

Yes, Chrom said that when he raised Falchion. The thunder magic prickled on my fingertips, and like we have done a hundred times, we charged. This elusive hope of destroying Grima’s darkness once and for all drove us forward. And then… what then?

The fog refuses to lift from my memory. If at least the stench of blood would disappear, then maybe I could formulate a concrete thought, a strategy to help me remember.

Someone laughs. The sound rings through my skull. Menacing. Triumphant.

Despite the large vaulted ceiling, the room seems to shrink and leaves me with no air to breathe, no taste to wet my chapped lips with except the cursed iron tang of blood. Not mine. The aching exists only in my head, and although my muscles respond with unusual sluggishness, I can drag myself from the cold marble and to my feet.

Validar’s disgusting narrow face has vanished; the throne at the head of the hall sits there abandoned. The enemy defeated? The battle won?

This does not taste like victory. A quietness enwraps the pillars and marble tiles, the quietness of a tomb, devoid of the cheers of my comrades, devoid of the clangs of combat even. Only this single voice laughs.

“Chrom?”

Speaking worsens the pain. The fog attacks my vision with full force. Darkness coats my eyesight, my focus breaks. I clutch my head, press my fingers against the skin, and stumble. Soon my skull must burst under the pressure.

A curse? Likely. A last parting gift from Validar, assuming he did in fact die.

But where is Chrom?

When my gloves slide across my temples in another futile attempt to stifle the aching, they leave behind a slippery sensation. The tang of iron increases tenfold, and I retch.

Blood on my hands. Not mine. But not Validar’s either.

I turn. Despite the headache that attacks my inner balance and tilts the floor like a Plegian war ship in a storm-lashed sea, I turn.

It’s like waking up from a dream. The fog retreats, the puzzle pieces click together, and absolute clarity allows me to witness what I have dreaded to see all throughout the past years, the sight born from my worst nightmare. But this is no dream. The blood on my hand proves it.

Grima laughs.

I scream.

Our voices are one and the same.

I drop to my knees next to Chrom, breathless, dizzy, robbed of all logical thought. No, please. Anything but this. I had so many strategies to avoid this scenario, so many plans written and crossed out in the light of a lonely candle, so many hours spent studying – all for nothing. My hands are cold.

In the far distance and yet right beside me, the Fell Dragon Grima laughs. He allows me to search Chrom’s body for signs of life, and he relishes in the cries with which I again and again and over again call out to Chrom. My heart throbs. His remains silent.

With empty eyes, he stares at the ceiling, and maybe he is looking for the future that will now never be. I claw at his cape, hammer against his breastplate, press my mouth to his to transfer breath and life from me to him. He remains still. From the wound at his side drips blood, but the stream runs thin; there is no longer a heartbeat to supply the body. The flesh around the wound is scorched and smells of burned skin.

This isn’t your fault…Promise me you’ll escape from this place…

His face comes back to me, twisted in agony. But not the slightest feeling of betray hardens his gaze as Chrom falls. His hand still expects to find mine.

This isn’t your fault…

Liar. The grisly outcome of my deed stares me in the face. The traces of thunder magic still flash across Chrom’s wound from time to time, in synch with the breath of its spellcaster. My breath.

“CHROM!”

I shake him. He cannot hear me. He is gone.

It’s over. Everything. If this were a chess game, our side has lost their king. The very reason to fight. But one of our pieces landed the killing blow, kicked the king from the board, and now cries over the loss with a voice that grows weaker every minute. Without Chrom’s hand to wield Falchion and banish Grima from this world, what hope is there?

None. I have no strategy to turn the tides of war this time. No trick to shake out of my sleeve to dazzle the enemy. I am the enemy.

“I’m so sorry.”

My words fail to call him back. Nothing will reach him now, not my hands, not my screams, not my pleas.

The stench of smoke mingles with the omnipresent odor of blood. Fires crackle outside, the abhorrent breath of the castle grounds below the Dragon’s Table.

The Dragon’s Table, yes. Where Chrom and I were supposed to fight the last battle and end the war, rid this world of Grima once and for all. As one!

And I was naïve enough to believe him.

My legs tremble as I stand, my chest constricts as I swallow another lungful of the toxic air. Still I stumble towards the balcony windows to the right. If I look at Chrom for longer, the last embers of my strength will die down. Grima’s whispered mockeries already grow louder. My hand leaves behind a bloody sign as I grip onto the pillar that frames the exit to the balcony. Still I stumble forward.

Sparks tumble across the clouded sky. I have to shield my eyes from the bright orange raging out there, but I force myself to look.

The castle stands in flames. Everywhere I turn my eyes, fires are consuming buildings, structures, hopes alike. The battlement where I have stationed Virion is a pile of crumbling stones. There, the yard where I ordered Sumia to hold open a path to retreat has vanished in a storm of flames, and the tips taste the nearby houses, hungry to devour them too.

I claw at the pillar, but the stone offers no support. The Shepherds have scattered. How many share Chrom’s fate? I hate myself for thinking of the statistics of my loss. For thinking of the people down there, my comrades, as pieces on my chessboard for a heartbeat.

How presumptuous to think this chessboard was mine to begin with. All this time, I only played Grima’s game. I was, I still am his piece to control at leisure.

He cackles as I reach this conclusion, but it is my voice with which he laughs.

I make another step towards the chaos below. Stone crumbles, the fire roars, the wind tears at my coat as if to drag me with it. How long before I lose control again? How long before I kill another one of my comrades, Lissa, Lucina, every last member of Ylisse’s bloodline to ensure Grima’s permanent victory?

I make another step. From the balustrade of knee-height, pebbles rain down, and they clatter as they strike the buttresses of the palace wall on their way. A long fall yawns below.

“I’m so sorry.”

Grima hisses. He tugs at my muscles, he assaults my mind with burning daggers, attack after attack against my fickle mental walls. My ancle creaks, then snaps under the pressure of the tug-of-war I play with a god. One leg gives in, but it’s alright, I have reached the edge.

You told me we were two halves of one whole, didn’t you Chrom? But with one half gone, the other has no purpose anymore.

Before me, the castle aches under the fire. Behind me, the man who pulled me to my feet and gave me the strength to walk lies dead. I have all but one strategy left.

I’m so sorry, Chrom. I have to break another promise I made you.

Grima howls, his claws tear at my mental walls, his fiery breath scorches and corrodes and devours my body from the inside, and my weak survival instincts scream at me to give up to end this pain.

But I refuse to listen.

Grima roars. “NO, YOU FOOL!”

I make the last step.

 It’s like spiraling into a nightmare. Grima’s heart is still beating. It hammers against the bruised ribcage and sounds the drums to announce my final failure. Grima’s chest rises from the unforgiving cobble stone that should have killed him. And when he draws in a breath tasting of dust and ash and doom, his laugh returns and he raises his hand towards the dark clouds to squish the entire world in his fist.

I want to scream. But I have no voice.

I want to pray. But to whom? To Naga? There is no point in trying. Despite the shattered legs and despite the broken ribs, I am alive. Or rather, Grima is alive.

With the hand that used to be mine, Grima follows the contours of his new face.

“Yes,” he says, “now you finally realize what a fool you were to resist me for this long. A noble attempt to alter the future. But your little stunt will not change the inevitable. What do you think, how much time did you buy your pathetic friends? A month? Maybe two? You actually thought you could sacrifice yourself like the last Exalt. Pitiful. What was her name again?”

Emmeryn.

“Well, it makes no difference either way. You couldn’t even do that right. This body will heal. And if I have to knit together every bone and every muscle with dark magic, so be it. Unlike you, I can take my time. And when the right moment comes, I will devour this world.”

I huddle in the small corner of this body that still belongs to me. I cannot move. Darkness wafts to all sides, and the Fell Dragon encircles me, an amalgamation of massive wings and greedy fangs that swallows me whole.

Grima knocks against my makeshift fortress. “What, you don’t want to annoy me with senseless curses? Not even one of those pretty phrases about hope you Shepherds like so much? It almost seems the only thing you managed to kill with your little trick is your fighting spirit. Ironic.”

The darkness pulsates, and I sink into it.

“All the better,” Grima says. “Then we can finally become one. Let me devour you, my sweet vessel.”

My vision is fading. The view Grima and I used to share is slipping from my grasp, and soon the dancing sparks are nothing but a memory. The sounds of distant war echo out. I no longer feel the rough stone pressing against my back nor the needle stitches of agony whenever my broken legs twitch. This sensation, every sensation now belongs to Grima.

The game is over. The pawn has played its part. In stupid ignorance it walked among the chess pieces from the other side, believing it might fight and love as one of them. But the dream is over, the nightmare has dawned, and the pawn has returned to the hands of its master.

Why delay the inevitable any further?

Come on! That’s no reason to give up!

Chrom, you liar. Two halves of the one whole – then why won’t you let me follow you?

I huddle deeper into my corner. Chrom’s voice rings all the more loudly. How strange. Despite the shadows all around, he is still here. Maybe this goes on for only a moment, maybe the month of reprieve has already passed, and Grima destroyed the world without my notice. I have lost my sense of time.

Giving up becomes my best strategy, my only strategy.

No. You’re more than this. You’re stronger than him, I know it.

But I killed you, Chrom. When you counted on me, I was too weak to resist. Besides, you are an illusion of my consciousness, a fabrication stitched together out of memories because the real you lies dead at the Dragon’s Table. I have no more strength to stand and fight. My hands are cold.

If I were in your place, you wouldn’t give me up so easily. This isn’t the end. Grima thinks you’re defeated, but you only stumbled. Prove him wrong. Fight back.

I cannot move. My legs are awfully far away, and all around me drift Grima’s shadows. But from somewhere in this darkness, a hand reaches out to me. It cannot be real; this too belongs to a memory. And yet, the hand waits there, the familiar fingers invite me, a light in the dark. I hesitate. But I could never refuse a request from him.

Despite the shadows and despite the faint rumble of Grima’s heartbeat, I grab onto the hand, and a strong arm pulls me to my feet. I stand.

Chrom smiles. This smile of confidence and understanding, the smile that makes you believe in yourself almost as much as you believe in him. That’s more like it.

And as his fabricated face fades into light, I can see with my own eyes.

The sparks still flutter across a smoke-darkened sky. Grima is still waiting for one of his underlings to drag this body to a healer. Bit by bit, he crumbles pebbles in his fist.

I move my thumb; a pebble slips from Grima’s grasp, clacks onto the cobble and hops out of reach.

Grima growls. For a moment, his suspicions are raised, and the poisonous shadows around his arm pulsate. But he thinks nothing of it. A momentary clumsiness allowed the pebble to escape, nothing more. The wielder of Falchion is dead, and no pathetic bond between him and the former owner of this body prevents Grima’s absolute control over these hands, hands that will soon spill the last drops of Ylisse’s exalted blood.

Or so Grima thinks.

Purple bursts of dark magic emerge to my right, and out of them steps Validar. The burns covering his arms hinder him little as he bows to his master. Not even the satisfaction of his death remains; that too was snatched out of my grasp. With a hand practiced in alchemy and curses, poison and murder, Validar sows Grima’s vessel back together. He repeats the procedure many times, first on the steps before the Dragon’s Table, then in the dungeons underneath his palace. His abhorrent face bends over me as he breaks bones back into place. A most loyal servant to Grima.

And as this body heals, Grima awaits the day where he can finally begin his conquest. The wielder of Falchion is dead. Soon the month of reprieve ends. By then, Grima rarely wastes a thought to the former owner of his body.

But I stand. I don’t know for how long I will hold on, nor do I have a way to tell if my efforts will amount to anything at all. But terrible odds have never convinced the Shepherds to quit the war, right, Chrom?

I stand, and I will fight. Against the strings that bind me, against my cursed blood, and against fate itself if necessary. Let me fight my own small war against a god.

 The battlefield of our war has more in common with a prison. Shadows and blindness construct the walls of this prison, and for long stretches of time, I hammer against the barricades without finding a way out. But sometimes, Grima’s shackles loosen, the walls fissure, and a hole opens for me to peek through.

Then I can see.

I see the deserted fields of Ylisse, dried and poisoned until no seed of corn can hope to sprout from this soil. I see the floods of undead wash into villages and castles alike and tear them to pieces. I see my comrades fight, and I see them fail.

Each sight drives another dagger into my core, and sometimes I cannot bear to look anymore. Then I sink back into my prison and allow Grima to direct his most valuable chess piece whichever way his bloodlust drives him.

But these phases never last long. A voice, far stronger than Grima’s whispered mockeries, urges me to devise a new strategy and do better next time. Again I stand, and again I fight. And sometimes Grima wallows in the despair of the people at his feet, he relishes their hopeless struggles, and in his self-confidence, he forgets to lock the doors to my prison for me to slip through.

Then I can move.

A slight turn of the wrist here. A delayed burst of Grima’s destructive breath there. A missed attack from time to time. Never much, rarely enough, but these actions are my small victories in the war against a god.

I can prolong Frederick’s life for five seconds before a lightning bolt tears through his chest.

I can restrain Grima’s hand long enough for Cherche to say her goodbyes to her husband.

I can buy Lissa the time to save her son.

Grima curses each time, his rage sends tidal waves of dark magic through my veins and burns me from the insides until flames instead of shadows make up the walls of my prison. Then I perform a tactical retreat and leave the battlefield to him for a while. He tramples a few villages in my absence. With a sick grin, he lets lighting sparks burst about his fingertips, unmatched and undisturbed. A false sense of security lulls Grima, makes him careless, and when he lowers the barricades of my prison, our war resumes.

He hunts down my comrades. One by one until no one remains.

He hunts down their children. Again and again they slip through his grasp, and I allow myself a relieved breath. Validar vows time and time again to satisfy his master’s wishes, but the children escape his traps and outrun his assassins. A nervous twitch befalls Validar’s left eye whenever he brings news of his most recent failure to his master. Grima’s patience runs thin. I cannot deny my satisfaction whenever Validar struggles for excuses.

His forehead all but kisses the marble floor. “I’m inconsolable, master.”

Each of Grima’s steps likens to a burst of thunder as he traverses the length of the hall atop the Dragon’s Table. The darkness floating around his figure reflects onto the polished pillars, and Validar twitches.

“I’m getting tired of your excuses,” Grima says. “How difficult can it be to capture a handful of children?”

“They have capable allies…”

Grima silences Validar with a wave. “All I ask is for the head of Chrom’s daughter. Does such a simple request outclass your abilities?”

“Your wish is my command, master, and I will not stop until you are satisfied. Have I not placed the heads of countless other Shepherds at your feet? And haven’t I thought up the trap that killed Chrom and gave you your vessel? The child cannot hide forever. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I shall hope so.”

“But… is she truly that important?”

“Fool. The exalted blood runs through her veins. And each day you fail to capture her is another day she might perform the Awakening ritual. Need I remind you that this ritual is the only threat to my eternal reign?”

“I have hidden both the Fire Emblems and the gemstones with utmost care in the most impenetrable Plegian fortresses. The child will never obtain them, you have my word.”

“Your word is no longer enough.” Grima stops in front of Validar. The latter fails to uphold eye contact and drops lower on his knees. Grima comments the display with a chuckle. “Tell me, Validar, how many times did I order you to bring Chrom’s daughter to me?”

“Master, I—”

“And have you even once brought something to show for your supposed devotion to me? All these pitiful humans you have tugged away in your dungeons, and not one of them has spilled where she is hiding? Either your torture methods have rusted or… Or your heart’s not in it.”

Validar’s eye twitches. “Never, master, that could never be the case. I’m only loyal to you.”

“Yes, that’s what you like to tell me. But I believe defiance runs in the family. It’s like an illness tied to your blood. Like a weed that keeps infesting the garden no matter how often I cut down the trees. The owner of this body is resisting me even as we speak. Although I must say, the resistance is rather lacking when your life’s the only one at stake.”

“I have no ties to my traitorous child! My life only belongs to you.”

“Indeed it does.”

Grima lunges forward and grabs Validar’s face, squeezes a little. Stifled gasps for air fill the hall. Validar doesn’t even think to defend himself.

I cannot deny my satisfaction.

“The blood connection between you and the former owner of this body gave you power,” Grima says. “You were quite useful for a while. And let’s not forget that without your generous aid, Chrom would still be alive, and this body might have remained beyond my grasp. But I have a tool that serves me better than you ever did. We are almost one. All it needs is a final nudge in the right direction.”

“Please, I can still be of use!” Validar cries. His hands try to loosen Grima’s grip in vain.

“Oh, you will be.”

I stare at the man who fathered me. His skull creaks under my fingers. All I feel is satisfaction when the thunder magic blossoms in my palm.

“The reward for your efforts,” Grima says.

“For Chrom,” I say.

Our voices are one and the same.

Lighting illuminates the farthest corners of the hall for a moment. The burst can be seen all the way in Ylistol, and whispers of a bad omen travel between the handful of soldiers on the battlements. When the brightness fades, so does Validar.

The heap of ash before my feet soon scatters with the wind howling from the balcony.

This does not taste like victory. But what does it matter at this point? I sink into the darkness, enwrapped by the Fell Dragon’s wings. My body is cold.

The net tightens. The end approaches fast.

 Grima’s eyes turn to Mount Prism. The ash of burnt grass crumbles under his boots, and where waterfalls used to bathe the mountain in gentle mist, now the stench of the undead fills the air. Ylisse’s remaining forces have fought valiantly to protect Naga’s sanctuary. But Grima has armies to command and discard at will, and the lightning bolts tearing through these poor, blue-clad soldiers leave them no choice but to retreat.

I can only watch.

When Grima descends from Mount Prism, the deed is done, and Naga is dead. A little of her light remains, a sprinkle of magic in the muddy ponds amidst the hills, but it is not enough to enable the Awakening ritual. My war has amounted to nothing.

Grima knows this. I know this.

But the same cannot be said about all of Ylisse’s fighters. Although at this point the mere thought of resistance equals folly, and although Grima proved his unmatched power when he killed Naga, one brave moron jumps at Grima from behind when he is climbing down the steps below Naga’s crumbling sanctuary.

The sword strikes the back of Grima’s skull, and even I, from the depths of my prison, hear the dull echo of the impact, the shock that tips Grima’s sense of up and down.

I thought it impossible.

And yet, for a moment, Grima commands neither his surroundings nor this body. His permanent victory, a moment ago so certain, is escaping his claws, and I almost dare to hope that at last I can trade Grima’s darkness for a different, final one.

Of course, the moment ends long beforehand.

With an inhuman roar, Grima whirls around and seizes the attacker by the throat. He kicks himself free, lands lightly on his feet, and charges Grima a second time.

“Brace yourself, evil doer,” he says. “This time you shall not escape my steel.”

The sword in his hand dances and twirls through the air, whirrs with the call for Grima’s mortal flesh, and against any other opponent, he would have succeeded. Here he slices Grima’s coat, there he scratches the skin underneath. But a few sword slashes, no matter how well timed, are no match for a god. Thunder crackles, darkness erupts from Grima’s body and scorches what little plant life has survived the poisonous steps of countless undead. The burst rips the lonely warrior from his feet. Blood drips onto the steps. As he struggles to stand and as he throws a last, unrelenting glare at Grima, I recognize his face.

Owain.

Lissa’s son.

He has aged, has almost reached adulthood, and the years on the run from the undead has hardened his features. But I still see the boy who cried out silly attack names as he challenged his cousin Lucina to stick duel. Too young to throw his life away. Yet he does exactly that.

“This is for my parents,” Owain says and pounces.

Grima has no mercy. The surprise attack to his skull still upsets his balance, but this trifle will hardly stop him from devouring his prey when it came so willingly to the slaughter. Flames encircle the battlefield, sparked by Grima’s destructive breath. Owain advances, one flawless technique after the other, but when he fights this battle alone, when the air becomes impossible to breathe and his opponent is a god, how can he hope to succeed?

The door to my prison stands ajar; Grima’s focus rests on the battle outside. Maybe I could intervene and prolong Owain’s life by a minute or so, maybe even offer him an opening to escape.

But I only watch and taste the sulphur all across my mouth. This war is already over and lost. Why delay the inevitable any longer?

The flames burn higher, Owain staggers, stumbles, and the next burst of magic will kill him. Grima raises the hand that used to be mine… when a throwing axe collides with the back of his skull.

Everything tilts. My prison walls shatter, and Grima’s howls ring from all sides, furious, disoriented. I can no longer tell to whom this body responds, in one moment Owain’s surprised expression reaches me with full clarity, and in the next total darkness collapses over me. Inigo dives into the circle of flames, or so I think, a second axe readied for the throw. My veins burn as Grima’s shadows leak from them; again darkness instead of sight. I squeeze my head, or maybe Grima does, and surely Brady and Yarne are no more than specters amidst the tumbling sparks as they help Owain back to his feet.

“You guys…” Owain’s voice sounds far away amidst the storm raging in Grima.

“Idiot!” Brady punches Owain’s arm. “You wanna die here?”

“That wasn’t part of the plan!” Yarne’s eyes dart across the raging fires. “But, err, can we please discuss this somewhere else? I can already hear the undead.”

“No,” Owain says and struggles out of Brady’s grip. “We can finish Grima! Once and for all.”

“Forget it,” Inigo says. “I’m too young and, frankly, too charming for that kind of sacrifice play. Besides, we have a different mission, in case the blow to your head made you forget.”

Brady nods. “Lucina is counting on us to find the stones. On all of us.”

“But—”

“I said forget it! And if I have to knock you out and carry your sorry skin all the way, you’re not dying today.”

“Guys?” Yarne points at me – or at Grima. No, it is Grima. The shadows that so often waft around this body pulsate, he writhes, I dig my nails into my temples, a soundless cry hangs on these lips.

“Do you think he’s going to explode?” Yarne asks.

Brady coughs against the smoke. “I’m not waiting here to find out.”

“My, my,” Inigo says, “and all that trouble just to save you from your own stupidity.”

“Then why did you come?”

“A bad habit; my parents were Shepherds just like yours, you know. Now do me a favor and move those feet.”

Owain takes a last look over his shoulder. “I almost had him.”

“Sure you did.”

As these words echo out, the four figures vanish within the smoke screens, alive to fight another day. No thanks to me. But I have no time to form apologies. The throbbing in my head persists, worse than ever, Grima roars, and out of every pore his shadows seep outwards until my skin stands aflame with agony.

I want it to end. Desperately.

All of it.

Grima screams, I scream, and in a tidal wave that sweeps across Mount Prism, a wave to overrun the stooping trees and extinguish the fires, in a wave that leaves no ant alive Grima’s darkness breaks from his vessel. The taste of sulphur disappears.

Then it is over.

I still breathe. And in some corner of this body, Grima breathes as well. A disappointment, no doubt. But for the moment, Grima has exhausted his magic, and the net around me hangs loose. This body is wholly mine for a short while.

I owe Owain my thanks for this brief sip of freedom. Because as I take in the air, even though the stench of the undead tarnishes the taste, even though my throat burns with each gulp, I have time to realize my newest failure.

My lack of initiative almost ensured Owain’s death. Just another drop of blood on my hands, sure, just another name on a growing list. Another helpless stone in Grima’s path, kicked aside without a second glance. And yet, someone came to save Owain despite the impossible odds. Naga’s death decided the future, a future entirely shaped by Grima’s dark wings. No hope and no salvation wait at the end of this nightmare. And yet…

I wander across the mountain slopes. The trees are leafless, and winds howl through their broken crowns. The breeze cools my aching limbs, the blood on the back of my head dries. I kneel down amidst a burnt meadow, and when I stroke away a covering of ash, patches of green reveal themselves. A few grass blades have survived. They shrink under my touch, but they are alive nonetheless. I feel the fine contours under my fingertips.

This is where I find Tiki.

She looks the same as when I last saw her, before the battle at the Dragon’s Table. Although she must sense Grima’s darkness flowing through my veins, she comes closer, and her steps stir clouds of ash to expose the living grass underneath. In the rare sunlight peeking through the clouds, the green teems. One could almost think we have travelled back in time before the war conquered this hillside.

“Naga is dead,” I say.

Tiki lowers her gaze. “I know.”

“You should go and warn Lucina. I don’t know how long before he – before I make it to Ylistol. I’m sure she has people she wants to say goodbye to.”

“You make it sound as if the fight were already over.”

“It’s not?”

“Not for Lucina. She has Chrom’s determination. You more than anyone else should know how far such willpower can take you. Even in the face of impossible odds.”

“I thought you might say that.” I try to recall Lucina’s face from when I last saw her. The young girl with the scraped knees, all too eager to follow her father into battle. How many years have passed since? I have no answer.

“She reminds you of him?” I ask. “Of Chrom?”

“Yes. It’s easy to believe her when she talks about hope. You should see her friends look at her with awe. They would do the impossible for her.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Whenever we suffer a defeat, she nurses their fighting spirit back to health through her words alone. I think I’ve been roused by her speeches once or twice myself.” Tiki smiles. “Lucina has this look in her eyes you only see once in a millennium. This warmth amidst all this strength. Marth had the same eyes. In her devotion to her task, she resembles him.”

“She’s been that way since the first day Chrom put a wooden sword in her hand.”

“And still, in her quiet moments, she reminds me of you.”

My fingers have no hopes of nursing the wounded grass stems underneath my palm back to health. I was never good with plants. I leave it to someone else to secure their future.

“If that’s your attempt to reassure me,” I say, “you need to change your strategy. Marth, yeah, maybe he could have fixed all this. I still remember how you compared me to him all those years ago. Quite the ego boost to be compared to the legendary hero king. Quite the impossible expectation to meet.” A bitter laugh escapes my throat. “You made a mistake. The same one Chrom did.”

“I don’t see a mistake. You are here now, aren’t you?”

“And for how long? It’s over. Without Naga, Lucina can’t perform the Awakening ritual. Grima has won. I just did my very best to help him along the way.”

“Then your strategy is to give up?”

“There is no strategy. Not this time. You don’t know half of what I did. What I failed to do.” I bury my head in my hands. “I’m so tired…”

“I understand.”

“Hard to believe.”

“What else would you expect from someone who has lived for three thousand years? This isn’t the first time I have to say goodbye. But I hope it can be the last.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I forgot. You were connected to Naga, weren’t you? Connected in a way I probably can’t even begin to understand…”

“Yes, in a way we were connected. Through me, she influenced this world. But although I sometimes acted in her interest, I didn’t let our connection control me. When I compared you to Marth, that was me and me alone. And I stand by my words.”

I rise to my feet to meet Tiki at eyelevel. My legs are heavy. “Why me?”

Tiki smiles. “I don’t have an answer to everything. But Naga’s death isn’t the end of all things. Victory is still in reach. We are still here, aren’t we?”

“For what it’s worth…” I pause. A strategy takes shape in my head, no, less than that, an idea not yet ready to sprout. “You said it yourself, you two were connected… Her magic lives on in you…”

“You know what that means?”

“It could actually work…”

“It will. But I have a favor to ask of you first. We need a new sacred ground so that Lucina can perform the ritual.”

I gesture at the scorched trees and ashen slopes. “Mount Prism doesn’t meet the criteria anymore, I figured as much.”

“You cannot simply wish for a sacred ground to appear. Magic, even magic as powerful as Naga’s has rules to adhere to. I would not ask if I knew a different way. And I’m afraid you will hate me for it.”

I frown. But the pieces to the riddle are all there, and Tiki’s face spills the answer. Disgusted, I take a step back.

“No! I can’t go through that again!” I stretch my empty palms towards her. “What you’re asking – forget the impossible logistics of it, I won’t even entertain the idea. Anything but that. I couldn’t even hide myself behind excuses, that it’s Grima’s doing, that none of it is my fault – if I do that…”

“It would be you and you alone.”

“And you call that victory?��

“I call it a favor. And a small step towards victory, yes. It’s not a burden I would like you to carry, but you are the only one who can. When the time comes, you have to be ready.”

Tiki exchanges a glance with me. I know. And I nod.

“One more fight,” I say.

“One more fight.”

Tiki turns and leaves. With her, the last glimmers of Naga’s magic seem to dissolve, carried away by the wind that brings heavy clouds and once again the stench of the undead. Shadows creep in my periphery, they twist and they grow, and I sink back into my prison. My body is cold. And then it isn’t my body at all, and Grima regains control.

The net tightens. The end lies ahead.

 Grima drags this body to Ylistol. Clouds gather around the familiar towers, heavy with impending rain. How wonderful the blue shingles shone when I first walked through the marble archways of the city. Little of that splendor remains. Holes disfigure the walls like battle scars. I refuse to calculate how many lives the Ylissean forces offered to reclaim these ruins from the undead. While her comrades search Plegia’s fortresses for the five gemstones to complete the Fire Emblem for the Awakening ritual, Lucina waits alone in the halls of Ylistol. Unprotected. When she dies, the blood of the Exalts dies with her, and Grima’s reign will find completion.

I struggle. More than ever before, I throw myself against my prison walls, I curse and I beg and I dig my nails into the shadows, everything I didn’t do for Owain on Mount Prism. But my shackles hold me tight. I am no more than a pawn. And Grima pulls this pawn towards the royal chamber.

Lucina has grown to resemble her father. The likeness to Chrom almost pains me more than what these hands will do to her. The sword underneath Grima’s cloak jingles when he steps into the light of the chamber’s chandelier.

Lucina whirls around. “You… How did you get in here?”

No fear. Like her father, Lucina faces her undoing without fear.

Tiki stands next to her, bathed in what little light the candles offer. I exchange a glance with her. She knows. And she nods.

Then Grima wrestles back control, and in the blink of an eye, he reaches Lucina. Orange flares dance across the blade as he aims for the killing blow. The taste of victory prickles on his tongue, and drunk from this sensation, he loosens my shackles. Only a little. But enough to twist my wrist by a degree or two.

The blade tastes flesh. Blood runs down the ridge and splashes onto the floor.

Lucina screams.

The slash that should have killed her cut through Tiki instead. This time my hand guided the blade. I have no excuses. Only unheard apologies. As Lucina cradles Tiki in her arms and presses her hand against the fatal wound, Tiki looks up to me. Not to Grima. To me. Again she nods. And I repay the gesture. When the time comes, I will be ready.

Grima lingers in the shadows of the chamber for a moment longer. Lucina’s pleas while Tiki says her dying words spark a sick grin on his face, and he runs his tongue across his lips as if to savor the taste of the appetizer before the main course. He knows I’m watching from the depths of my prison.

Sparks of thunder magic swirl about his fingertips as he raises the hand that used to be mine.

“What pretty tears.” Grima’s voice rumbles through my head. “It’s a shame Chrom didn’t have the time to weep for you this way. And how alike they look… What do you think, shouldn’t father and daughter finally reunite?”

“She doesn’t matter,” I say.

The shadows around my prison walls pulsate. As Grima leans in, the pressure rises. “Is that so?”

“That’s why you struck down Tiki instead of her, right? Naga is dead, her Voice is dead – the exalted blood has become useless. You followed the most tactically sound path. Tiki’s death ensured victory.”

“Victory, yes.” Grima tugs at my shackles, iron-fire pain shoots through my mind, but I make no sound. “But would you say it was my victory?”

“Rather our victory.”

“Oho? Then are you finally willing to become one?” Grima laughs. “Not that it matters now. You already belong to me. The single purpose of your birth was to become my vessel. All your struggles in the end only led you back into my grasp. What an exhilarating feeling to finally become whole, wouldn’t you agree? It may have taken you a few years, but here you are, finally accepting the inevitable. Do you think Chrom would weep for you now if he had to see what you became?”

“I wouldn’t know. He’s dead.”

“Indeed he is. Thanks to you.”

“I only served my part.”

“And how beautifully you played that part. Worthy of my best pawn. Maybe even worthy of a reward… a chance to escape this prison and this world altogether. Isn’t that what you want?”

“You’re offering me freedom?”

Grima tugs at my restraints, and I writhe, soundlessly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I still have uses for this body. It’s true, I like the idea of letting the girl mourn the last remaining person of her father’s world. She cries such pretty tears. But I like the thought of devouring her so much more.”

“Because she inspires hope in the hearts of the people.” I pause. “Like her father. Once she’s off the board, you will have won the game.”

“…Yes. I see you haven’t lost your passion for strategy. A most… useful quality. Of course, the hope she elicits in the hearts of her followers, that is the reason why I want her dead.”

“Of course.”

“Then you know why I still need this body. My generals should have gotten rid of the other children by now. I would have disposed of the four pathetic fools back at Mount Prism, but so much the better. Now they will meet their end with the stones almost at reach. Their screams are so much more delightful when there’s still a flicker of hope in them. But Chrom’s daughter will die by my hands. I will watch the light leave her eyes when I cut her open with these hands until the exalted blood runs down the steps of Ylisstol’s throne room. Then and only then will I have won the game. You won’t deny me the satisfaction, will you?”

“I will be ready to do my part.”

“Good,” Grima says.

And with a snap of his fingers, the chamber vanishes, and this body teleports many miles north, to the ash-covered top of Mount Prism. Grima’s new throne. The rolling hills below ache under the boom of uncounted boots as legions of undead march south.

“Yes, you will do your part,” Grima says as I sink deeper into my prison where I can neither see nor move. Only listen to the rumble of war. “Because you want it to be over. I’ve seen through your little game. You never wanted to accept me as your master, that was just a lie to get me to promise you a way out. You would never become one with me. Not willingly. Your dead friend spoiled you with his pretty phrases about friendship and comradery. Like a stupid child, you listened to him until you believed the lies. But you can’t fight the inevitable for long. Serving my command is all you can ever do. You’re mine. I move the strings, and you follow. Now dance a last time for me.”

Nothing but shadows and a greedy dragon exists. My world is cold.

The net tightens. The end has come.

 Smoke swirls around the battlements of Ylistol. Far below, hundreds of undead tramp towards the castle walls, clawing at the stone as if to raze the building itself. Lucina stands atop the commotion, Falchion in hand and ready to fight against the odds. The howling winds fail to weaken her battle stance. Her opponent is none other than Grima.

The Fire Emblem and the singular gemstone Lucina’s comrades have obtained help them little to win this fight. Against the might of a god, Falchion’s light pales. Against Grima, Lucina’s trust in her friends cannot endure. Her three comrades jump in as her shield, but neither their attacks nor my struggles prevent Grima’s deathly breath from sweeping across the battlement and corroding their skin and spirit until all four of them balance on the brink of death.

They sway and clutch their sides in an effort to rise back to their feet. In each of them, I see my comrades, the friends who have died, the friends I have killed. Chrom’s determination continues to glister in Lucina’s eyes. Even as she spits blood.

I hammer against my prison walls, I scream and I lunge at my master, but I have neither voice nor hands to fight with. Grima barely notices my pathetic attempts. He will relish to squish these four nuisances under his thumb. Already his laughter echoes across the cloud-laden sky. His hunger burns through the veins that once belonged to me.

I stand, and I fight, but it matters nothing. How foolish to think I could revolt against my master. How foolish to believe I had a chance to win the war against a god. Without a hand to pull me to my feet, how can I hope to stand?

Tiki made the mistake to trust me a second time. Chrom made the mistake to forgive me. Now I will repay them both by killing Lucina. And then Grima’s victory will be complete. Maybe then, at last, he will have no more use for his best tool.

Lucina stumbles. Her hands hold onto Falchion in vain. Soon it will all be over.

The darkness whirling at the edges of my vision grows.

I sink into the depths.

Ceaselessly.

A flash of light illuminates the battlements. But it is not my thunder magic as it plunges through Lucina’s chest. When the light weakens, Grima’s laughter has died. Even the growling undead have fallen silent.

Amidst the torn battlefield stands Chrom. Heroic, alive, the most magnificent of mirages. His comrades, our comrades, the people I thought dead form up behind him. Often they look younger, a little different, but the will to fight reflects onto their raised swords and lances all the same. Chrom extends a hand towards Lucina, and with the smile of confidence and understanding, the smile that makes you believe in yourself almost as much as you believe in him, with that smile, he helps his daughter to his feet.

I don’t know how. Nor do I care.

He is here.

That’s all I need to know.

And as Grima curses, and as the undead scale the walls, and as Chrom rallies the knights and mages and friends under his command, I find the strength to stand. I couldn’t save Chrom last time. But now I have the chance to do better. Now I will keep my promise.

Let the war resume.

Grima fights a battle on two fronts. Chrom and his comrades slice through his army; undead go up in smoke left and right. Swords jingle, flames erupt, and bowstrings hum until not a single opponent remains on the battlement. Grima grinds his jaw, but he can only watch as the Shepherds tear his certain victory apart. So far, he doesn’t worry. The other gemstones are still missing, Mount Prism is far away, and if all else fails, his magic will tear these pesky humans apart before they can perform the Awakening ritual.

But his strategy doesn’t work out.

Mine does.

Chrom slays the last undead in Lucina’s path. No more than an armlength separates us. And as Grima prepares to strike him down, his hand remains frozen. Grima curses, but he has no hands to strangle Chrom with and no vocal cords to cast a spell.

My voice, not his, calls out to Chrom. “I can’t bear to watch you die again. I won’t. Promise you’ll escape from here… please.”

Surprise flashes across Chrom’s face, a hint of recognition. “I know that voice…”

His hand reaches out more out of reflex than any conscious decision. He will fight all the harder now. That’s the kind of man he is, no matter what dimension he comes from. But you’ve done enough, Chrom. Your half of the work is done. Let me handle the rest.

I raise my hand as if to wave. The magic prickles at my fingertips. And in the light of my teleportation spell, Chrom disappears.

The strength he gives remains.

In his stead, Lucina approaches Grima. All according to plan. Against the impossible odds, her friends arrive with the remaining four stones, and together they complete the Fire Emblem. Tiki’s spirit reappears as intended, bathed in Naga’s glow. Blinding light particles twirl about the battlement, and the smoke recoils. Even Grima feels the divine magic blossoming underneath his feet, in the chamber in Ylistol where in ignorance he struck down Naga’s Voice, and for perhaps the first time, panic squeezes his dark core.

He struggles and writhes, he threatens and curses, but he has lost the war. I stand triumphantly.

And it is I and I alone who nods to Lucina. “I’m ready.”

Falchion glows, a light that captures the entire battlefield. In Lucina’s hands, the sword fulfills its purpose. The dawn of a new day breaks through the smoke and chases away the last shadows clawing at Ylisstol to allow a glimpse at the future yet to come. It looks promising…

Grima dies alone. His best tool has long since severed the connection.

 It’s like spiraling into a dream. White wafts at the corners of my vision, and the taste of a meadow of sweet cow parsley overwhelms my senses. Soon the white grows to swallow everything. But there is warmth too. A touch, a laugh, a helping hand, a group of people united around a camp fire amidst a sea of tents.

When a hand reaches through the white this time, two halves become whole.