#i severely underestimated gwyn

[fluffypichu876]

guess who beat dark souls 1 for the first time???? ehehehehehhehe

this game is soo very good! it's such an unique experience, and honestly, despite the (kinda mild?) difficulty, it's one game that i would recommend to everyone.

oh, and i'm doing ng+ btw >:)

[moodymelanist]

I Depend on Me

happy day 3 of @nestaarcheronweek everyone! I had a lot of fun with this fic because we all know how much I love writing about secret agents, spies, and the like, so I hope y’all enjoy this one 💙 title taken from Independent Women Part 1 by Destiny’s Child (which is about Charlie’s Angels hehe). part two of this will come during @cassianappreciationweek 👀

Summary: Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn are Valkyries, survivors of an elite, brutal program that raised them as assassins. They’re on a routine mission when Cassian forces them to change their plans…

Word Count: 2,630

Read on AO3 here!

♕♕♕♕♕ Nesta

Nesta took a deep breath as she made sure she had everything she needed for tonight, taking one last look around her apartment before she locked up and headed toward the car. It was a short enough drive to the rendezvous point, and before she knew it she was on her way to the Valkyrie safe house she’d be using to get ready for tonight’s mission. 

Emerie and Gwyn were already there when she arrived, calling out their greetings while Nesta headed to the bathroom to shower and start getting ready. She tried not to linger on any one thing as she went through her usual pre-mission routine; if there was one thing the Valkyrie Program had beaten into her, it was an ability to clear her mind so that her only true concern was the mission. 

The Valkyrie Program had been a training program for young women that was so effective in training them to be assassins that it was easier for the governments of the world to turn a blind eye rather than try to take them down. Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn had grown close as they’d managed to survive over the years. To be a Valkyrie was like something out of a comic book – they could blend into any crowd, speak dozens of languages, fight in any number of styles. 

To be a woman was to be underestimated, and their handlers had taken full advantage of that. Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were some of the last graduates of the program – if you could call them that – but they’d never stop being Valkyries, not even after they’d made sure to burn the entire thing to the ground.

After their revenge tour was over, the three of them had managed to find a place in the world working freelance. It turned out being an assassin was a lot more fun when they could plan their own missions and decide who they worked for, so they tried to do their research before accepting missions. 

Tonight’s mission would start out with stealing a room key from a gala attendee before they broke into his hotel room and stole whatever private information their buyer was looking for. Nesta loved nothing more than getting one over on a man, so she’d been more than happy to agree once Emerie and Gwyn had given their agreement. 

Emerie would be running this segment of the mission from the inside of a fake catering van and serving as their getaway driver when they completed it, so it was up to Gwyn and Nesta to get dressed up and scope the place out from the inside. Nesta had chosen a dark blue gown that gave her so much cleavage it was almost obscene, while Gwyn had gone with an emerald green number with a slit that showed off her long legs. The tighter dresses made it more difficult to bring weapons, but the best part about being a woman was how easy it was to hide such things on their persons. 

Nesta’s hair pins were sharp enough to cut, and there were several throwing knives tucked into her ankle holster. Gwyn had an easy to reach thigh holster on the leg that didn’t have the slit on it, and her necklace could be easily detached to use as a weapon if the situation called for it. The ballroom itself would also be filled to the brim with items they could use in a pinch, from steak knives to forgotten stiletto heels to even bottles from behind the bar. 

Once everyone was ready, it was about a forty-five minute drive to the fancy hotel where the gala was being held. Emerie looked a little funny with her civilian clothes on over her jumpsuit, but at least she wouldn’t be constrained by her clothing as much if she needed to fight. Nesta and Gwyn would be the ones in a pinch, but Nesta wasn’t worried. As much as she hated it, she knew she could always trust her training, and it hadn’t failed her yet. 

The ride over was relatively quiet, the only noise being a mix of Emerie softly singing along to the song on the radio and the occasional tapping sound as Nesta and Gwyn reviewed the mission briefing for the final time. When they eventually arrived at the hotel, Emerie made sure to drop them off close enough to the entrance that it wouldn’t be too much of a pain to walk, but not so close that the van could be spotted and remembered. 

“Good luck,” Emerie said before she passed over their comms. 

Nesta stuck hers in her right ear while Gwyn put hers in the left. “Thanks, Em. See you later.”

Nesta and Gwyn blended in seamlessly with the crowd of people attending the gala, especially once they passed through the valet entrance. Dozens of people were getting out of town cars and limos, so it was easy to merge with the rest of the group.

“Let me know when you’re in,” Emerie murmured into their comms. The tech was so tiny that no one would be able to see it unless they were far too close, so Nesta wasn’t worried about looking suspicious. They just had to make sure they didn’t talk too loudly or reply to Emerie too obviously. 

“Will do, Shopkeeper,” Gwyn replied, turning to look at Nesta with a secretive little smile as they approached the entrance. “Shall we?”

Nesta and Gwyn walked into the ballroom arm in arm once their invitations had been deemed authentic, immediately splitting off from one another to canvas the room. Nesta headed to the bar to flirt a little, more than content to let her breasts do the talking, while Gwyn set a path toward the back of the room where the food was. 

The room was tastefully decorated, with a large dance floor surrounded by dozens of circular tables. If there was assigned seating, they wouldn’t be there long enough to take advantage of it, but it seemed most of the gala guests were mingling away from the tables anyway. Nesta sipped her club soda as she surveyed the room, easily catching sight of their target laying on the charm thick in the further corner of the dance floor. 

“Target spotted,” Nesta murmured. Isaac Hale wasn’t particularly noticeable amongst the sea of white guys, but it hadn’t been hard to find him between her training and how obnoxious his laugh was. “Southeast corner of the dance floor, black tux. On my way to engage.”

“Copy that,” Gwyn whispered back. “I’ll cover you.”

Nesta finished the rest of her drink and tipped the bartender with a smile, more than pleased to pull a blush from the woman’s pretty face before she left. 

Isaac was still smiling and laughing amongst the small crowd surrounding him, and Nesta was about halfway to him when she caught sight of a tall figure. His shoulders were impossibly broad against the cut of his tux, and Nesta had to hold back a string of curses that would draw entirely too much attention to her before she altered her path. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nesta grumbled under her breath instead. 

Agent Cassian Valladares — codename Commander, former military who did something for one of the alphabet agencies — was currently spinning around the dance floor with a brunette socialite who was leaning entirely too close into his chest. His hair was pulled back into a half bun while the other half rested gently against the tops of his wide shoulders. Even from across the dance floor Nesta could appreciate the tailoring on his navy tux, and she belatedly realized they’d managed to coordinate their outfits by accident. 

She’d first met Cassian and his two friends a few years ago when they’d all been assigned to the same target. The Valkyries had managed to scrape by with a victory, but Cassian, Azriel, and Morrigan hadn’t given up without a fight. They’d crossed paths often enough after that initial encounter that Nesta knew to be on her guard whenever she saw one of them; not only were they extremely good at what they did, but Cassian was an outrageous flirt, and even worse, he knew his ridiculous lines managed to have some effect on Nesta. 

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not as bad as—” Gwyn began before she cut herself off with a loud groan.  She must’ve spotted Cassian too. “Ugh, no, you’re right. It’s bad.”

“What are we looking at?” Emerie asked. 

“We have some unexpected friends crashing our party,” Nesta explained, gritting her teeth. 

“So far I’m just seeing one, but…” Gwyn trailed off with a sigh. 

“Good things come in threes,” Nesta finished, doing her best to turn her face so it wouldn’t be as obvious she was speaking. Wherever Cassian went, Azriel and Morrigan were never far behind, so it would only be a matter of time before they made themselves known. “We don’t know their play, but I’ll distract the big guy. Priestess, you’re up.”

“Copy that, Lady Death,” Gwyn agreed to the change in plans without missing a beat. “Engaging the target now.”

Reassured that the mission would continue on as planned, Nesta placed herself into Cassian’s path as subtly as she could. It didn’t take long for him to spot her, and she allowed herself to be turned around and into an easy dance by one of his large hands, the brunette socialite clearly long forgotten. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nesta said. She pursed her lips as she looked him over, thoroughly pretending she didn’t notice the way his tux clung to his muscles. “Seriously?”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Cassian said back, smirking so hard that Nesta half hoped his face would get stuck in the stupid pose. “You’re not happy to see me?”

“I will castrate you,” she snapped. She didn’t have to fake her anger at seeing him — the man had done his best to ruin so many of her missions that her blood pressure had been raised the moment she’d spotted his broad frame. She tried to calm herself down by working her way through every method she knew one at a time; she didn’t even need to break a sweat for at least three of them, and it was working until the big idiot opened his mouth again.

“If that’s what it takes to get your hand on my dick, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” he replied, only smirking wider as they continued to dance. “Besides, I’m sure after you see it, you’ll change your mind about taking it off.”

She made sure to smile at him slowly enough that it would deeply unsettle him. “You sure about that, sweetheart?”

“Very,” he replied, seemingly unfazed by the way she was looking at him. 

“What are you doing here?” Nesta asked abruptly. She knew Gwyn was going to complete her objective, so she’d have to keep the big idiot as distracted as possible to make sure their mission was completed. Riling him up was fun, but she needed to keep him as engaged as long as possible, and her mother had always told her she’d catch more flies with honey than vinegar. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you,” Cassian answered, his smirk turning into something a little softer and more genuine. 

“There are certainly easier ways to arrange that,” she responded with a roll of her eyes. 

“Probably,” he agreed. His eyes flickered down to her chest and back up to her face so quickly she wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t paying such close attention to him, and she had to stifle a snort. Men. So predictable. “But I like this one. Has anyone told you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

“Maybe you should try telling that to my face and not my chest,” she deadpanned. 

He just laughed. “Two things can be true at once. You look gorgeous and I’m a big fan of this dress.”

“Thank you.” She let him twirl her in a circle and she used that time to quickly visually confirm Gwyn’s position. “Is that all you have to say about it?”

“I mean…” he trailed off, making a big show of sweeping his eyes over her. “I think it would look better on my floor, but other than that, no.”

“Always the gentleman,” she said sarcastically. His hand was warm where it was pressing against her back and a small, traitorous part of her wanted him to slide it a little lower. 

“Can’t help it,” he said back, the smirk returning in full force. “You bring out the best in me.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Nesta replied with a smirk of her own. 

“It is,” Cassian told her. “You have me here in this stupid tux and acting like I know how to dance. What else would I call it?”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” she responded. She trailed the hand she had on his shoulder down over the satin lapels of his jacket, making sure to look up at him through her lashes as she did. “You cleaned up better than I expected, Commander.”

“I aim to please, sweetheart,” he answered, his hand digging in a little harder into the small of her back.

“Ugh.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the line; her book club had spent countless hours tearing 50 Shades of Grey apart. “Please don’t quote that garbage book to me again.”

Whatever Cassian’s reply was, it got lost as Nesta’s comm suddenly crackled back to life. 

“Objective completed,” Gwyn announced loudly. Nesta relied on all her training not to jump at the sudden reminder that this was a mission and not weird foreplay for a date that could never happen. “Retreating to the extraction point in approximately three minutes.”

“Whenever you’re done flirting with the Commander, we can wrap this up,” Emerie teased. 

Nesta adjusted the hand that was holding Cassian’s so she could twirl around again, doing another quick sweep of the room. Gwyn’s bright hair was nowhere to be found, but she did spot a blonde woman in a dark red dress dancing far too close for Nesta’s liking. If Morrigan was showing her face, Azriel certainly wasn’t far behind, so she really had to get out of here before she was forced to cause a scene.

“I hate to dance and dash, but…” Nesta said once she was turned around and facing Cassian again, “I’m afraid I’ve worn out my welcome.”

“And what if I want you to wear me out instead?” Cassian fired back without missing a beat. 

“Then I suppose you’ll have to keep holding your breath,” she replied, deftly stepping out of his hold once the song ended. “Have a good night, sir. It was lovely dancing with you.”

Nesta made a calculated decision to bend over slightly as she smoothed out the wrinkles on her dress, knowing he would stare at the frankly ridiculous way her breasts were almost spilling out of her dress, before straightening up to walk away. Between calling him sir and giving him a show like that, Cassian’s jaw had gone a little slack, and she couldn’t help but smirk a little at him while she turned and made a decisive path for the door. 

“On my way,” she murmured into her comms. Satisfaction thrummed through her, and she decided it was because of a mission off to a good start. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the way Cassian had been looking at her.

She was a trained professional, for God’s sakes. She’d wouldn’t have to deal with those feelings until and unless the next time she saw him, whenever that would be. 

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard

[not-poignant]

May 2024 Writing Round-Up

Here’s the monthly round-up of everything written and posted in May 2024!

Here’s the chapters that were released:

Underline the Black 88

Underline the Gold 09

Underline the Gold 10

Constellations 06

The Nascent Diplomat 44

Constellations 09 (Gary+Efnisien Tier+)

Underline the Gold 10 (Gwyn+Augus Tier+)

Underline the Gold 11 (Gwyn+Augus Tier+)

Chapter Commentary - Underline the Blue - 11 (Mosk+Eran Tier)

Chapter Commentary - Underline the Blue - 12 (Mosk+Eran Tier)

Birthday Spotlights

Alois Flitmouse

Fenwrel the Mouse Maiden

FANFICTION

A Stain that Won't Dissolve 37

Palmarosa 23

Palmarosa 24

~

Behind the scenes I managed 32,108 words in May, which is huge, over twice as much as April. I wrote across Constellations, A Stain that Won't Dissolve, Underline the Blue and Palmarosa.

The hiatus from a more full schedule has been helping, and has made me realise I need to come back in July with a smaller schedule, but the option to post bonus chapters like this month! I loved putting up an unexpected Black and Stain chapter! :D

~

Toby has recovered from being neutered. I've had time to think about work-life balance and how to keep my health, well, healthy. It's difficult wrangling jobs like this sometimes! I don't really have any role models in some ways because no one else is doing this job the same way I am (most people would not make their original stories publicly available, for a start, they'd paywall everything).

I'm rethinking whether to keep going with the birthday spotlights. If I do, I think I'll only do one a month and then cumulatively add characters over time. I severely underestimated how much time they take!

So happy to be writing more again though. :D

~

As always, you can support the stories you love by subscribing over at Patreon and Ream! You can also follow for free, and just get email notifications of news and other things that I release to everyone. :D

[animezinglife]

I think Elain and Azriel are different in ways that matter long-term, just as I think she and Lucien are similar in ways that matter long-term.

Azriel would absolutely be an upgrade from Graysen (and I do mean this as a compliment to Az even though it's objectively not saying much), but I do think where he and Elain are incompatible would start to wear on them both over time. They're different on a fundamental level whereas she and Lucien are not.

I can see Az being too much for Elain not in the sense she'd ever have need or reason to fear him or that he wouldn't be sweet to her, but simply in how differently his mind and values have been forged.

How differently he acts and reacts.

I think they could have a good relationship while it lasted, but I don't think it would last. If it did, I could see it lasting only out of habit and comfort zones--stagnation and unwillingness to change or take risks.

I think Azriel would eventually tire her, and that it would become grating and stagnant given she would always feel that pull towards Lucien whether she wanted it or not. Unless, of course, it somehow was severed completely.

With Lucien, there's a fundamental similarity in values and temperaments. Lucien may have a bit of a mouth on him at times, but he's gentle. He's kind, witty, snarky, and warm. He can be a little wild, but generally has some of the best self-control in the series when it comes to not allowing himself to be goaded into an action that will cost him.

I think the blood dual line embodies that perfectly. Even if Elain hated Lucien (which she doesn't), she would never wish for him to be harmed or for him and Azriel to fight.

Azriel likes competition. Thrives in it. He likes his space and quiet, even though he can do both. It would wear Elain out, and I think between his nature and demands his role requires, Elain would start to feel neglected (attention-wise) over time. While I fully believe everyone underestimates her fortitude and what she's willing to accept among people, I believe Az's brutal profession would start to wear on her.

Elain was social as as human. She liked her parties, and she had friends. She wants both simplicity and the chance to do something greater; to test the waters and see who she can become. While both Az and Lucien believe she's capable of it, I can see her flourishing and thriving far more with Lucien.

With someone who can both utilize and weaponize relationships and connections through people and words.

Whereas Azriel is very much established in his life. His life and choices could change, of course, but old habits die hard and it's difficult to imagine leaving his spying and warrior upbringing behind.

Hypothetically, it's in all these ways where someone like Gwyn would be a better fit for him. Gwyn is a warrior herself. She's sharp and resourceful and thrives in environments where she can push herself to the limits and beyond them physically and mentally. She brings her own light into a room in a way similar to Elain, but Gwyn's is less of a warm sun's glow and more like a firecracker. She too likes her quiet; is used to working in the dark and quiet and settling her own mind in those moments.

Azriel also wants a mate. While it wasn't Elain's choice to be mated, it's worth noting that fact isn't anyone's choice in this series. Even if we look at a couple like Viviane and Kallias who arguably had the most convenient and comfortable bond scenario (in which they were already in love with each other, had decided to spend their lives together, and were newlyweds when it snapped), they still didn't necessarily have a choice in the bond itself.

Even if Elain and Azriel pursued each other, Elain's bond has snapped with someone else. As of right now, we can only assume Azriel has never had that (and I think his actions and internal conflicts support the idea).

If Azriel did end up having a bond snap into place, it wouldn't be with Elain.

It would be with someone else, and I wouldn't wish that on either one of them. They both deserve better (and Lucien does, too).

I want to see them all experience the highest form of love in their world and for that love to thrive.

Azriel would never intentionally hurt Elain, but he's often blinded by his own nature and ambitions where Lucien is not.

Azriel reacts. It's his method of survival and getting a job done.

Lucien considers. That's his method of survival and getting a job done.

Neither are this way all the time--Az can be silent and menacing, and Lucien can run his mouth and get himself into trouble.

But the differences in those tendencies matter.

At the end of the day, though, it will be Elain's choice, but value and temperament alignment are always worth considering.

Lucien wouldn’t even call a blood duel and if Azriel somehow called it I am 100% sure he would not participate. He abhors violence. He did not kill Graysen, the man who disrespected his MATE. He did not seek revenge for Jesminda’s death even though I know he wants to. He would not participate in it, tradition be damned.

But Azriel would.

Even if it hurts Elain. Even if it scars her. Even if losing her mate potentially messes her up. And we know that because of his eager response to Rhys. We know that because he liked the idea of Lucien killing Greysen even when Elain asked to spare him. He did not care. But Lucien understands this, Lucien understands Elain and their morals align.

That’s the whole point.

[silverlinedeyes]

The Necklace

The necklace represents Elain.

It really pains me when people say that “a thing of secret lovely beauty” is Gwyn’s line or represents Gwyn, and that we are trying to make everything about Elain when we say the line is her line.

But…it is. It is her line. No one else’s.

Here is what Azriel thinks when he takes the necklace out:

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary -- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. 

‘It's beautiful,’ she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, ‘Put it on me?’”

This is a metaphor for Elain. Not only is it a rose, which has been used to represent Elain throughout the books, but outwardly the necklace appears boring and typical, when it actually is a thing of secret complexity and beauty when you hold it to the light and look closely enough.

All throughout ACOSF, Sarah was hinting at how underestimated Elain is. How she’s seen as boring and useless; only good for gardening.

For example:

“Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.”

Her own mother saw her only as a doll to dress up.

“Elain was like a dog, loyal to whatever master kept her fed and in comfort.”

Yet Amren herself tells us not to underestimate Elain, as everyone has.

And Cassian again gives us that message—that Elain has been underestimated by Nesta (and readers!).

And then of course, we get this passage in the Feysand bonus:

Rhys asked, “Have you ever seen Elain act like that before?”

“No.” I chewed on my bottom lip. Rhys’s gaze tracked the movement. I mean, she’s been brave when she had to be, but she’s never been confrontational.”

“Maybe she was never given the chance to be that way.”  

I whipped my head toward him. “You think I   stifle her?”  

Rhys held up his hands. “Not you alone.”  He surveyed the study as he thought. “But I wonder if everyone has spent·so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d disappoint you all.”  He sighed toward the ceiling. “With time and safety, perhaps we’ll  see a different side of her emerge.”  

“That sounds dangerously close to what Nesta said about Elain finally becoming interesting.”  

“Sometimes, Nesta isn’t wrong.”

I glowered at Rhys. “You think Elain's boring?”  

“I think she’s kind, and I’ll take kindness over nastiness any day. But I also think we haven’t yet seen all she has to offer.” A corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.”

“And torn up by thorns,” I mused, recalling a morning this past summer when Elain had come into the house, her right palm bleeding from several gashes thanks to a stubborn rosebush that had pierced her gloves.

Everyone, the characters in these books and many readers alike, underestimate Elain. They see her as a pretty face but nothing more. Just kind of…boring.

But when put in the (figurative) light, it becomes clear that there’s a lot more to Elain under the surface. That she’s complex and beautiful and multi-faceted. Not boring.

That’s what this necklace represents, and what’s what “a thing of secret lovely beauty” is referring to. Not elain’s outward beauty, which everyone is aware of. But the fact that everyone perceives her as boring and one-dimensional, when she actually has a secret inner beauty and complexity that everyone has refused to see thus far.

And she will be held to the light in the next book, and the true depth of her inner colors will become visible.

[As an aside, I do think the repeated line at the end of the chapter could also be referring to Gwyn’s “secret beneath the lovely face”, but that’s for a different post and for a different discussion.]

[wingedblooms]

Have you posted anything about your thoughts on Gwyn and Azriel? Whether they’ll be an endgame or not? Az’s bonus scene threw me off about Gwyn, the last line: “The thing of secret, lovely beauty “ I almost thought he was pursuing for Gwyn but I’ve reread it thrice now and I’m leaning more on him being pulled there by Gwynn’s siren song…I don’t think he’s there by his free will. I think he was nudged there… right? 🙈

Thank you for the ask! In general, I try to steer away from (and filter out) this topic because it is so divisive, but I can understand the concern and will respond with my own interpretation. Possible Maas multiverse spoilers below.

First, I don’t think we have enough evidence to even suggest that either Azriel or Gwyn are interested in each other romantically, let alone endgame. That could eventually change, but if I were using the evidence we have right now to determine who is more likely to be endgame in the next book, it would be Elain and Azriel. I am also personally more interested in the kind of story they would offer as seer and spymaster. There are some who disagree with that perspective, and that’s okay; we don’t have to agree.

You brought up the refrain, a thing of secret, lovely beauty, which I think is one of the most interesting parts of Azriel’s bonus chapter. It reminds me of other phrases Sarah has used before, like a perfect, pretty trap for the Weaver’s cottage. A refrain is meant to draw your attention, so I do think it’s repeated for a reason. And in all honesty, there are several possibilities. I don’t think the possibility I’m about to suggest has ever been posted, but I could be wrong. I’m not suggesting it’s the most likely possibility, but it is the one I prefer.

I think it’s important to remember that the phrase is referring to a thing, not a who. It first appears in the paragraph about the necklace that Azriel selected for and gifted to Elain in the dead of the longest night of the year, with only the Mother as witness. Well, and no-good, busybody Rhysand. If the necklace wasn’t described so thoroughly, and such a large focus of the bonus, I would feel more comfortable saying it means little and will never be seen again like Cassian’s first solstice gift to Nesta. No such luck here.

The golden necklace seemed ordinary—its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

The necklace is called an amulet, and amulets typically offer protection. It’s tiny and ordinary enough to be dismissed as an everyday charm, but it’s not truly ordinary. It has hidden depths, secrets. Unsurprisingly, Elain—who is canonically beautiful and underestimated and keeping secrets—appreciates the beauty of this necklace. We don’t know the story behind it, whether it was custom made or found, but I couldn’t have picked a more fitting necklace for Elain myself. Even more so because Azriel finds himself in the foyer as she descends the stairs, and the faelight makes her glow like the sun at dawn.

But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was.

The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.

Exactly like the necklace does when the faelight shines upon it.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?”

And then when Azriel and Elain are about to kiss, he invokes the Mother:

But he could have this. The one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. “Yes,” Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.

This doesn’t seem to be a coincidence. In the chapter before solstice and thus Azriel’s bonus chapter, Nesta tells us that she felt the need to set Elain’s carved rose next to the figurine that may be the Mother:

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer.

As I’ve mentioned in the post on Elain’s murky realm, I think she is deeply connected to the sacred trio (Mother, Cauldron, Fate) and may even act on their behalf. That lovely, kind, sage, and warm female voice may actually be her own. The same one that makes an appearance during dire circumstances in Oorid and when her family nearly dies at the end, just like Elain appeared suddenly on the battlefield. It was Elain—not the Cauldron—that answered Feyre’s pleas when she was about to witness Nesta and Cassian die.

So then how does it end up at the library, and why? Sarah uses similar language—he found himself—to potentially give us a clue. It’s almost as if he’s drawn by a force, rather than moving of his own volition. He is drawn to the foyer exactly when Elain is descending, and he is drawn to the library at exactly the time dusk services typically begin. And who does he find there? Clotho. Rather than overseeing dusk services as the High Priestess, like she did when Nesta had her vision that uncovered the location of the Harp, she is sitting at her desk. Could it be that she was…expecting Azriel?

But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn’t go to the market square. Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening.

Without any kind of prelude, Azriel gives the necklace to Clotho and asks her to pass it on to Gwyn (or any other priestess who might enjoy it). He’s a very thoughtful gift giver and worries over getting the Archeron sisters gifts in ACOFAS, so it is strange that he abruptly changed course and appeared in the library to re-gift a necklace that was intended for someone else, someone who makes him feel strong emotions, including writhing need. Like Cassian with his gifts to the Illyrian families, Azriel tries to attribute the necklace to Rhys when Clotho pushes him on his preference for anonymity. Not only is it not romantic, but it is kind of awkward. Clotho notices that he is sad, and hears the lie when he tries to deflect. She tells him that she will give it to Gwyn, and adds, perhaps out of kindness:

Clotho’s pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her.

Her words are striking, and I’m not sure if anyone has noticed this before, but it’s because they remind me yet again of Elain’s carved rose and what Nesta associates with it at the end of ACOSF:

Her father had died for her, with love in his heart, and Nesta held love in her own heart as she pulled the small, carved rose from her pocket and set it upon the gravestone. A permanent marker of the beauty and good he’d tried to bring into the world.

Elain’s rose, which was carved for her by Papa Archeron, was a reminder of the beauty and good her father tried to bring into the world. Unsurprisingly, he and Elain have this in common; they were close, hence the painting of them that was described in detail. Elain is consistently linked to love and beauty: she will wed for love and beauty, her beauty is such that it brings kings to their knees, and she brings joy and beauty into the world regardless of the circumstances. She gives thoughtful gifts to others, even when they were poor, in order to bring them joy:

Father: a new chisel for carving

Feyre: paints, paintbrushes, cake with her own art design from the dresser

Nesta: romance book set, scarf, unlimited books

Azriel: headache powder, ear plugs

And she beautifies the world around her with gardens wherever she goes, even when she is poor or suffering. It was not practical then, but that is the point—joy and beauty are not practical, but they are necessary. They spread hope. And people need hope, especially in their darkest moments. Clotho echoes this sentiment almost exactly when she tells Azriel how much joy Elain’s necklace will bring to Gwyn. Hope is infectious, so of course the thought of bringing joy to Gwyn sparks something in Azriel’s chest. And he is given the gift of being able to picture that joy, for whatever reason: how Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. To me, this image lacks romantic prose (even Nesta’s observations of Gwyn’s eyes are more romantic than this thought), but it doesn’t have to be romantic to be meaningful. It gives him hope in a dark moment.

Something sparked in Azriel’s chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason. . . he could see it. […] But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

And then, we see this phrase return at the end—in a separate paragraph.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

There are numerous theories out there, very compelling ones that have been well-researched and argued. But the one I prefer is this: the thing of secret, lovely beauty is Elain’s power, represented by the necklace and the mysterious events that surround it. The first mention defines it and the repetition allows us to see it in action. We know the Cauldron thought she was so lovely it wanted to give her something. With her oracular and mystic abilities, I believe she can use influence (one might call it a force) to protect others and create a more hopeful future unseen (she’s already done it, in fact). It’s why her role in the war has been forgotten (or dismissed) and she remains half-hidden in the shadows. It would be interesting if, somehow, she was already working with the priestesses, who also worship the Mother and operate in the shadows of the library.

“I think she’s kind, and I’ll take kindness over nastiness any day. But I also think we haven’t yet seen all she has to offer.” A corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.”

Like a gardener, Elain’s powers allow her to plant seeds long before we can see the beautiful result. I suspect that’s why she was chosen for those specific gifts—she can play the long game, doing whatever is necessary in a fairly loving way. Before the bonus, she said she would start reacquainting herself with her powers and was riveted by the stories of her sister and the Valkyries. It’s possible she may have even seen something with her powers that compelled her to act. If that necklace can offer protection, like an amulet normally would, perhaps there is a reason it needed to go to Gwyn. She is instrumental to Nesta and the Valkyries, and there seem to be larger forces at play that threaten their future. They cannot afford squabbles over a necklace. Elain did what was necessary to create more hope, and did it in a way that brought Azriel comfort. That’s the different kind of strength I want to read about in the next book, and I trust that Sarah wouldn’t have her faves, Feyre and Rhys, agree that they would focus on Elain next if that wasn’t where she was headed.

I sighed, absently rubbing my still-flat stomach. “Let’s focus on helping one sister before we start on the other.”

“Agreed,” Rhys drawled.

It’s also quite clear that Elain is more than ready to have her story told:

But Elain turned on her heel. “Find me when you wish to begin.” The doors shut behind her.

How much do you want to bet she didn’t wait for them to find her to begin?

[vidalinav]

“When’s his birthday? We’ll settle this right now.”  

Nesta can’t keep the annoyance out of her voice, “How should I know?” 

“Fine. I’ll ask him,” Emerie says, grabbing her phone. Her thumbs move across the device and Nesta looks to her own, where the notification appears. Emerie’s typing... 

“Hey C, what’s your B?” Emerie snorts a laugh. “Lol.”  

“Did you just say lol instead of laughing?”  

Emerie waves a hand dismissively. “Hush, Mama’s typing... He doesn’t know what ‘B’ means.” 

Nesta can’t say she blames him, but Emerie rolls her eyes. She can’t imagine what Cassian is thinking as Emerie sends each text. He’s probably sitting in his room, staring at the chat in confusion. Gwyn, on the other hand, sits their sourly, her nose wrinkling as if there’s a bad smell in the air. 

Good, Nesta thinks, we’re on the same side. 

“Birth-day,” she says as she types. “Now he’s asking me why I’m asking. I think your boyfriend has trust issues...” Emerie taps a finger to her chin as if that itself is a clue, “Such a Scorpio move.”  

"Now you’re just guessing,” Gwyn says with a sigh.   

“Well, I only have twelve options. Eliminate Taurus over here.” Emerie gestures over to Nesta and she frowns, wondering if she should be offended by how she says that word. “And obviously he’s not a Libra. So, ten left. Wait—he sent ‘who’s asking?’ I think he thinks you’re secretly digging for information.”

Nesta huffs and she can’t help but think this whole situation is ridiculous. As if she’d be digging for information. Like she’s some school girl with a crush, passing notes to her friends. “What are we in fifth grade?” 

“We are digging for information though,” Gwyn says, shrugging a shoulder.

Nesta gives her a glare. Whose side are you on? 

“Okay. He says it’s December 16th. Yikes a Sagittarius.” Emerie sets down her phone, nodding as she looks to the show that mutedly plays on the TV. “Actually that makes sense... Good for him.”  

Nesta doesn’t understand what that means and she waits for Emerie’s explanation, but it never comes. Gwyn looks just as confused at the silence. They both watch Emerie’s pick up the remote, the TV flashing through channels one by one. Nesta can just tell her friend’s looking for the food network.

“And?” Gwyn urges after a moment.   

“Oh, your relationships fucked.”  

"See!” Nesta shouts, throwing up her hands. “We’re not meant to be together.”  

~

Serotonin boost because I’m writing an essay and I severely underestimate my skills at procrastination. Also, this fic doesn’t make me cry when I’m crying about doing other work... what a revelation. 

[bakingandbooks3]

Nesta HC

Alright yall so i was just thinking about the atrocity that was ACOSF but something that just dawned on me is our graceful swan queen nesta is clumsy as hell. girl really slid down the stairs😭

so my head canon is that nesta is funny af and way too clumsy- she fights with power, precision, and skill, but the second any task has some form of basic coordination that grace goes out the window, for example-

Nesta, Gwyn, and Em, are all at the house. Nesta in her laughter-drunk haze decides to climb on the kitchen counters to get chocolate from the top shelf, but severely underestimated the size of the cabinet and smacks herself in the face with the oversized wood panel- queue emerie laughing until she falls out of her chair and gwyn snorting the lemonade she was drinking, out of her nose.

Or, Nesta is walking through the house at night after finishing reading a book. Cassian is already fast asleep in their bed but Nes refuses to turn on any light, her mate hardly gets enough sleep already, and any brightness would wake him. So, she fumbles in the dark until she thinks she’s at the edge of the bed. Then, she swings her leg onto what she thinks is the mattress but severely misses and lands on the floor with a thud. Obviously, Cassian wakes up but only rolls over to the edge in time to see Nesta muffling her own laughter with her hands and SLOWLY rolling under the bed to hide from her husband who is sleepy as hell and howling at his wife-who somehow manages to be the most accident-prone woman ever.

BUT MY FAVORITE THOUGHT- is that nesta cracks herself tf up. this girl is stone cold- we know that, but she finds herself to be absolutely hilarious and Gywn and Emerie hype her up way too much. My favorite idea is one night all the IC come over, Baby Nyx, the WHOLE SQUAD+ Valkyries. Nesta is being tame- that iron resolve so chill, while her chosen sisters are chatting her up. Then, Gywn asks about something new- Nes darts up from her seat going “WAIT I KNOW WHERE THAT IS!!” and breaks from a dead standstill to sprinting at a door in sight of the whole party of people. Gwyn and Em are already giggling, following Nesta in tow, but when Nesta misses the handle to the door slightly and smacks FACE FIRST into the door WITHOUT IT OPENING they’re all on the floor laughing so hard they’re crying. All of the IC is just beyond shock because watching the Death Queen run into a door is more entertaining than anything else that night.

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwyn one shot

Idk I just write shit I think is chaotic

TW(possible): SA

Devlon was, once again, trying to invalidate the females who had won the blood rite. Gwyn didn't see why it was necessary for the three sisters to help train the other female Illyrians in their own camps. It would be much more beneficial for them to train at the house of wind training ring, away from all the male scrutiny. Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta knew how much it bothered Devlon that they had done so well in the rite. He had made comments here and there invalidating them and went as far as embarrassing them in front of other war camp leaders, suggesting that they only won because the Illyrian males went easy on them. Cassian and Azriel could only do so much. It was really starting to piss Gwyn off. She knew Devlon was provoking them, but Gwyn no longer seemed to care. He would continue to do this until one of the girls proved him wrong.

"I mean if we are speaking honestly, you females only did so well because you had each other. Individual hand-to-hand combat is a completely different playing field." Some of the higher rank males laughed along with Devlon. Nesta rolled her eyes while Emerie could not have looked less interested if she tried.

"Fine. Who do you want me to fight?" Gwyn snapped at the pigheaded male. It caught everyone by surprise. While Devlon was trying to goad them, he didn't think they would call him out by proving him wrong. Cassian and Azriel sent Gwyn a wary look. They knew her and Emerie won the blood rite, but they haven't seen any of the females actually fight. They would continue to underestimate her too.

"I don't expect you to actually fight any of my males, darling." He sent her a toothy grin as if they were in on the same joke. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Pick your guy and I'll fight him." She insisted. She would shut him up once and for all. Devlon had never seen her fight either. She would show him exactly where he could shove his "darling."

"Gwyn." Emerie muttered. Clearly hoping for Gwyn to shut up. If anyone knew of the Illyrians ruthlessness, it was her. Devlon smirked before scanning the area. There were several men training on the opposite side of the ring. Gwyn, her two sisters, Cassian, and Azriel (for some reason) were currently standing on the females side along side Devlon. They were supposed to be giving helpful tips, but the arrogant male had been too busy undermining them to allow any teaching to occur. Devlon stopped his scanning and turned to Gwyn.

"Trev. Come here." Devlon called to the other side. Almost predictably, the largest man over there came strutting over to them. When Gwyn made eye contact, she immediately froze. He was in the same group as her in the blood rite. He also woke up early. He seemed more fascinated by the weapons on the playing field than her, so she took his distraction as her time to escape. Trev stopped a few feet away from them and looked towards Devlon.

"You're going to do hand-to-hand combat with the half-breed." He sneered out the last word as though it might hurt Gwyn. She rolled her eyes. He was going to have to do a lot better than that if he wanted to hurt her. To his credit, Trev looked apprehensive.

"No weapons?"

"No." Devlon almost looked gleeful as he said this, but it caused Trev's eyes to nervously glance over to Nesta's.

"Seems unfair. Does the witch promise to leave me alone if I hurt her friend?" All eyes seemed to turn to Nesta who was glaring as per usual.

"I don't make promises I can't keep." Her response was curt, but it had Gwyn elbowing her in the ribs. If this was how she had to prove herself, then so be it. It appeared she would need her sisters on board for it though. "Fine. No witchy shit." Nesta conceded after an intense stare down with Gwyn. Cassian spoke up next.

"This seems like a bad idea." Gwyn shot him a glare. She knows he doesn't mean to do it, but comments like that undermine her ability as much as Devlon's. She could handle herself against anyone. She would never allow a man to have the upper hand again.

"She can do it." Azriel's quiet confidence had her sliding her eyes to meet him. She could find only support behind them which strengthened her resolve. She stepped inside the ring and quickly ran through her stretches. Just as Trev stepped in, she began her mind-stilling.

"Go." It was a singular, quiet word spoken by Devlon, but Gwyn was off. She knew that Trev wouldn't make the first move with his apprehension. Gwyn shot her fist into Trev's neck which had him bending over in a coughing fit. Gwyn grabbed the back of his head and shoved it into her knee. He was sprawled on the floor for less than a second before he hopped back up.

"Bitch." He muttered as he spit blood from his mouth. Gwyn could now see the anger simmering in his eyes. This is where the real fight began. They traded a series of blows, and punches, and kicks. Gwyn got hit so hard in the temple she started seeing stars, but she refused to give up. Her stubbornness wouldn't allow her to lose this fight. Gwyn once again got the upper hand by kicking the back of his knee which had him falling once more. She jabbed her fingers into his eyes which had him screaming. He managed to shove her back while yelling profanities at her. She wasn't playing fair and she knew that. She was taking as many low blows as she could. Trev wouldn't be used to this kind of combat considering other males liked to play by certain rules. Gwyn didn't have that sort of luxury being at such a physical disadvantage.

"Fuck you." He shouted then a small smirk quirked his lips up. "You should hear what the other males have to say about you." They were both circling each other at this point. The exhaustion was setting in for both of them and they needed a second to breathe. Gwyn didn't think the other males would gossip like teenage busybodies, but apparently she would be proven wrong. He threw out a fist that she barely blocked. It still clipped her jaw though.

"Didn't realize the great Illyrian warriors were such gossips." She huffed out. Stupid males.

"Those Illyrian warriors talk about how much they wanted your friends that day. How they would have been willing to lose the whole thing for one night with either of them. Didn't hear quite the same thing about you." Gwyn suddenly knew where this was going and blood roared in her ears. She impulsively threw a punch into his ribs that he easily blocked and responded with a punch of his own to her ribs. She realized then that that was his plan. Piss her off enough that she becomes sloppy. She started her mind-still again, but he wouldn't stop talking.

"I'm curious what's under those leathers. I didn't get a good look that day." He paused for only a second to drag his eyes up and down her body. It was enough to make her skin crawl. "I hear it is quite the canvas of scars. One of my brothers said one look at you in that nightgown had him gagging." Gwyn's breathing became much more labored.

"Shut up." She spit at him. She sent a kick to his thigh, but he stepped away too quickly.

"Another one of my brothers said your skin was so mutilated, he'd rather fuck a suriel." Trev laughed at that. Gwyn didn't peg him for a vindictive male, but she supposed he didn't like being made a fool of so quickly within their fight. "It's hard to know for sure without seeing with my own eyes though. Why don't you show a little skin?"

"You know what I have noticed about men?" Gwyn started. Her rage had peaked and she was about to let it out. "They don't play by the rules. So why should I?" Gwyn dropped down to her knees and swung her legs out. Trev fell hard, too slow to notice what Gwyn was doing. She was sitting on his chest. His arms stuck under her legs. She had pulled a hidden dagger out and shoved it through his lips. She held his tongue between two fingers and pressed the dagger heavily to it. Trev's eyes widen and Gwyn could hear shouts from outside the ring.

"What was that, Trev? I couldn't quite hear you. What were you saying about my body?" Trev was squirming with all his might but he had exhausted most of his energy by now, and Gwyn's anger was insatiable. She felt as though she had increased strength even for a fae. He was muttering and mumbling, but none of it made since with his tongue in her tight grasp.

"Don't get shy now. Speak up." Gwyn felt as though her anger could shoot out of her like a ray of light. It was uncontrollable. The shouting outside of the ring continued but Gwyn was only focused on the male in front of her. It wasn't until she registered the fear in his eyes that her anger started to dim. She finally could hear what they were saying.

"Gwyn, stop." That was Nesta.

"Gwyn, he didn't mean it." Emerie.

"Let him go." Cassian.

"Are you fucking crazy, you dumb bitch?" And that one was definitely Devlon.

It was as if she was burned by fire. One second she was about to cut his tongue out of his mouth and the next she was throwing herself off him and scrambling away. It appeared Trev was on the same mind set because he also was scrambling away from her.

"Sorry." Gwyn could barely choke it out. She didn't know what overcame her. She just hoped it never happened again. Her breathing was heavy as she searched her family's faces for the judgement that should be there. Nesta and Emerie looked concerned, Cassian looked wary, and Azriel looked...supportive? He had that same look on his face as before. As though he understood the rage that was boiling over inside before she shoved it back down.

"Sorry." Gwyn tried again. Devlon was looking over Trev at this point who still looked spooked. Both of the females jumped out of whatever daze they were in and grabbed Gwyn.

"We need to go." Nesta whispered. "Before Devlon can dish out any punishments." The beautiful high fae female was hurrying them over to Azriel to winnow them away. Cassian was staying behind. Probably to do damage control if Gwyn had to guess.

It wasn't until the were back in the personal library of the house of wind did Gwyn break down. She was so startled by her own wrath that she didn't know how to cope. Gwyn had never been cruel before, but in that moment, she felt cruel. Azriel left the females to comfort their sister, but not before whispering so only Gwyn could hear.

"Good job."

[austerulous]

◈   @kanawolf asked:  ❛ what is a gift your muse is hoping to receive? (for both!) ❜

— anri

Time and company. :’)  I realise that sounds cheesy, but by all rights Anri should have died as a child – she was incredibly lucky to escape Saint Aldrich, to flee the Cathedral of the Deep.  With each death after undeath, Anri loses a little piece of herself, but she has never forgotten the other children.  Life is a gift her friends were denied.  Outside of her quest to slay the man-eater, nothing matters more to Anri than her companions.  That means her now-deceased mentor, Horace, and anyone else who shares the road with her.  Whether it is for hours or years, she does not underestimate the value of a person’s time and attention.  If we are talking strictly tangible gifts, then anything that appeals to her sentimental nature would be warmly received.  A wildflower picked in her name would suffice, as would a pebble from a place they explored together.  For something less entrenched in memory and meaning, more plain hair pins wouldn’t go amiss.

— ciaran

While not ostentatious, Ciaran absolutely has a taste for the well-made – vastly preferring quality to quantity – and she is not afraid of indulging in her wants and desires.  The assassin is presumably well compensated for her services to Lord Gwyn and, coupled with her independence, this all goes to say that she wants for very little.  There is nothing she seeks outside of those rare connections that allow her to be more herself than weapon, but if a tangible gift must be given something high quality and / or practical would serve best.  A masterfully wrought blade (preferably functional and beautiful) or a garment fitted to her unusually small form would appeal.

— maria

Since you sent this ask, Maria has become one of my main muses, so I figured I should include her too!  I answered this question for her here but neglected to mention that Maria has a penchant for hardwearing, practical, aesthetically pleasing footwear.  As with Ciaran, it’s a case of quality over quantity, but she absolutely has several pairs of very beautiful, calf-hugging leather boots – she would absolutely welcome further additions to her small collection. 

[housebeleren]

Throne of Eldraine New Commanders

Throne of Eldraine Standard is in full swing, and I know people are already brewing with the new Commanders, but it’s never too late to take a spin and evaluate all the goodies this set brought for the best format.

For this set, most of the Legendary Creatures are monocolor, which isn’t really my thing, but we did get the four Brawl deck Commanders as well, plus the Buy-a-Box, so there are options. Also, since Brawl is now a thing, I’ll mention my thoughts of them for both formats, and touch on the Planeswalkers at the end. Let’s start there:

Might as well start here, right? Normally I don’t love five color commanders, but this one is flavorful enough I’ll give it a pass. There’s a lot you can do here, and it should be trivial to set up some pretty absurd combos with abilities like these. I like that all the abilities can target any player, so you can play this super politically, which is how I would build it if I were to. He works for group hug, and works for combo. The versatility here makes him something very interesting, and I suspect lots of people will try variants.

For Brawl, I think if you’re not building him to be a Happily Ever After deck, what are you even doing?

Moving on to the Brawl commanders, Chulane is the most obviously busted of all of them. There’s just so much you can do with this. He draws you cards, he ramps, he allows you to reuse ETBs. In short, he does it all, and it will be absolutely trivial to create a pretty obscene Simic-based combo deck out of this. It practically screams creature storm, so... that’s a thing. If I were to build him, I’d go hard on Adventures and the “storyteller” theme, which would be jankier, but probably more fun.

In Brawl, he’s really not any less broken, given how powerful Green/Blue is in Standard right now. It’s possible in a year, after the Hydroid Krasis and Frilled Mystic rotate out this won’t be so dumb, but I’m not holding my breath.

Alela seems slightly less broken than Chulane, but that’s not saying much. There are a few ways to go about building this. The first, most obvious, and most annoying, would be to build Esper Stax, which Alela will helpfully help you break parity on by constantly churning out extra tokens. Another direction I’ve heard is Alela Anthems, which probably isn’t that good, but will certainly be funny if it works. There are a lot of good ways to build around her, and that flexibility is good. I will say, however, both Alela and Chulane come across as huge and obvious threats, so do plan for getting hated on with either of these.

The nice thing is that for Brawl, she’s way less insane, but is still really solid. She strikes me as really well balanced for the more restricted format, while still being lots of fun.

Korvold is my favorite of the four Brawl commanders (which is bizarre, given that he doens’t have Blue). What I like about him is that, while he is a clear threat, I actually think people will underestimate him a little bit more, since on the surface he looks just like a big beater. But the real power is in his card draw, and if you can get a steady stream of tokens or sac fodder out, you can draw deep into your deck really quickly. 

Of course, the “intended” direction here is to build him as the Food commander, and that is definitely a thing you can do. But there are tons of other ways to build this, with Red Goblins and Green Saprolings being two of the first ones that spring to mind. Sadly he doesn’t directly synergize with Food Chain, because that would be amazing. 

In Brawl, Food is definitely where you want to be with Korvold.

I’ve gotta say, I really do like how they built these four commanders around four set themes. One of them had to be Knights, and it was bound to be a bit of the odd one out. Honestly, the main thing they needed to do for Syr Gwyn would be to make her a tiny bit smaller and chop off a mana or two. Then she’d be phenomenal. As it is, 6 mana is a huge lift, particularly without Green, though the card draw is very welcome for these colors. 

She strikes me as totally reasonable in Brawl, but will be a little more niche for people who really want to build Knights in regular Commander.

It’s interesting that the only other multicolored general in the set is an Uncommon, but that’s the way it is now that Uncommon Legends are a consistent thing and we’re in a monocolor-focused set. Grumgully has some decent options in commander, but it’s unfortunate you can’t put Murderous Redcap in it for the combo win. My guess is there are better Red/Green commanders, and better +1/+1 commanders but he’s a fun option for a more offbeat deck.

In Brawl, there’s some fun synergy with Gruul Riot creatures from Ravnica Allegiance, but again, I think Grumgully would be better in the 59 rather than at the helm in those builds. Especially since you can run Domri at the helm.

Questing Beast doesn’t feel like most Legendary creatures, but sure enough he is. The likely key if you want to build him in Commander is to try to exploit his “Damage can’t be prevented” ability by making this a turbo Fog deck, since the damage your creatures do will still occur. It’s janky, but people won’t expect it the first time and could lead to some blowouts. Otherwise, he’s just Green stompy. 

For Brawl, he belongs in the deck, not in charge. You have better options for mono Green, and he will be in the deck for all of them.

Rankle isn’t the best mono Black commander out there, but he has some interesting deckbuilding options. The challenge is that he has to connect to be worth anything, but once he does you get a fair amount of utility out of him. I also imagine there will be plenty of EDH decks built around other generals who would be interested in him in the 99.

In Brawl, he’s about as good as any mono Black option, though Ayara is probably a touch better. He’s phenomenal in the deck of my Lazav deck, though.

Ayara is fantastic. She has some stiff competition for the leader of mono Black decks, but I can see her being a reasonable choice. After all, she’s got a win condition and draw power built in, and that’s pretty phenomenal. I’ll certainly be running her in the deck of basically any mono Black deck as well, so I expect to see her a lot.

In Brawl, mono Colors struggle a bit against 2 or 3 color builds, but Ayara is a reasonable choice if you really want to go mono Black. She plays really well with Gutterbones and similar self-reanimators, so there definitely is potential here.

Torbran actually has some potential across the board. In Commander, you have access to Purphoros, which is disgusting when combined with Torbran and any sort of token maker. Kinda no matter what, Torbran will be great either at the helm of or in the 99 of mono Red decks.

In 1v1 Brawl, Torbran is disgusting, and plays out basically just like the Standard Red deck does. He’s probably worse in multiplayer, but is anyone playing multiplayer Brawl? (I’m just playing 1v1 on Arena, so... yeah Torbran is annoying.)

For 100 card Commander, there are way better mono Green options out there. Yorvo is just “go big”, and that doesn’t quite cut it when Elfball and things are possible in the color. I don’t expect him to see much play.

In Brawl, he’s one of the better mono Green creature commanders out there, but there aren’t that many to speak of. Gargos is probably better, but neither are going to be anywhere near as good as Nissa, Who Breaks Formats.

Linden seems like a solid NOPE for Commander. As I’ve mentioned, Righteous Cause isn’t that great of a card, even when you get it in your Command Zone. There might be niche applications for her, but I’m not guessing any major play is likely.

She’s not that much better in Brawl, but she is fun with Ajani’s Pridemate. Problem is, you really want to be in W/B if you’re going to go for lifegain in the current Standard.

Lots of people are hyped about Gadwick, but I’m not guessing he’ll make too many waves. I’d run him in Wizard decks like Azami, and probably pass on him the rest of the time.

Mono Blue is probably the worst mono color in Brawl right now, and having card draw and a creature that can tap things isn’t going to make up for it much. He belongs in several brawl decks, but not leading them.

Emry is pretty much busted in half. Mono Blue Artifact decks already have tons of overpowered options in Commander, and adding Emry to the pile just adds to the insanity. Urza is still probably your best bet, but Emry could be a more fun and more budget way to do something similar.

In Brawl, I’ve seen people attempting Emry decks, but I don’t think they have enough way to close out the game, at least with the current card pool. A few animated artifacts just aren’t going to cut it with the amount of removal and big creatures in the format.

Oh right, we got a cycle of Uncommon Legendary Knights as well. Um... Syr Elinora is probably the worst of the bunch, for both Brawl and Commander. I just don’t see her making a splash in either format.

Syr Alin... has the same problem. He’s really meant for Limited play, and this ability just doesn’t do enough to be interesting in either Commander or Brawl. He’s probably slightly better than Syr Elinora in Brawl, but that’s not saying much.

Honestly, Syr Faren is probably better than Yorvo as a mono Green general, though it still bugs me tremendously that he didn’t follow the 5 CMC cost of the rest of the cycle. Oh, and this is for Brawl. He’s pretty useless in Commander.

Syr Carah provides repeatable impulse draw in a color that doesn’t often get it, so she’s worth looking at. In Commander, there are maybe a few decks where she’d fit in the 99, but 5 mana and without Haste is a lot to ask. In Brawl, I’d run her in most mono Red decks unless I was going super-weenie. But Torbran is your better bet as a general.

And that leaves us with Syr Konrad, and it’s honestly shocking just how much better he is than every other card in the cycle, and many of the Rare Legends as well. Seriously, this ability is so freaking good, even if it is hard to parse. He’s got potential in Commander as a General of some sort of gross mill/Living Death deck, and honestly with enough creatures on the board and in your graveyard, that could win on the spot. I don’t think he’s the best mono Black Legend ever printed, but he builds an interesting deck that’s a little different from a lot of the others, so I like that a lot. And he belongs in the 99 of so many other builds.

In Brawl, I love him in the deck of basically anything that runs Black, and you can get some of the same fun as Commander by casting a massive Finale of Eternity. In Brawl, I might actually run Ayara as the commander more, but Syr Konrad belongs in every Black deck in the format. Period.

Alright, now we move on to the Planeswalkers, since they are technically legal as Brawl commanders. And just like in Standard, Oko is pretty much busted as a Brawl general. In 1v1, you might as well scoop if your opponent lands a turn 1 Gilded Goose to land Oko on turn 2. He’ll be less obscene in multiplayer, where his +1 ability won’t just completely nullify everything you lay down. But he’ll still be great. So, you have a choice. You can build an Oko Brawl deck and understand that literally nobody will enjoy playing against you. Or you can build something else and let other people have fun. Your choice.

Garruk is pretty fantastic. I don’t know if he’s better than Vraska if you’re looking for a Golgari Planeswalker to lead your team, but he will be good. He’s got removal and threats built in, and he’s bound to be great, either as a commander or in the deck of another build.

The Royal Scions are great. Unlike Oko, who is just good and it doesn’t matter what you build, the twins here have a specific deck they work in, so it has to be a little narrower. Which is a good thing. This deck will be a lot of fun, and I think it can flex anywhere from casual to surprisingly powerful. Which is a great place to be for Brawl.

Oh yeah, there’s another Oko. Fortunately, this one is pretty much awful. There’s some potential here for a Simic Ascendancy type of build, which makes this better than it might be. The weird thing, however, is that Oko’s middle ability doesn’t synergize particularly well with his +1, since he’ll be a copy with no counters. It would be way better if he has a -1 that created a token copy of a creature you control, because at least then you could get ETB effects out of them. In any case, I doubt there will be many Oko, the Trickster builds, especially when Thief of Crowns is so ridiculous.

And finally, there’s Rowan on her own. I like that her +1 mimics the second ability on The Royal Scions. Honestly, Torbran is still  the mono Red general of choice, but Rowan isn’t the worst I’ve ever seen. Getting to an Insurrection on her ultimate is game ending, and if you can keep her alive long enough, she generates solid value. Honestly, I’d be curious to see what people do with a Rowan build, but more likely she’d just end up in the deck of some of the mono Red Superfriends decks I’ve seen running around.

So that’s it. All the new Legendary Creatures and Planeswalkers from Throne of Eldraine (and it’s related products). What deck are you going to build?

[fadingcoast]

Death of the Lie  ||  Chapter 10: Love

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism​ & @fadingcoast​

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: None RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!! Taglist is open!!

@igotloki​ @xalgaliareptx​ @wolfpawn​ @fairlightswiftly​ @christy-winchester​  @silverhart93​

Chapter 10: Love

Dearest Mother,

It is my hope that this letter finds you in good spirits, as mine cannot be contained. King Frèyr and the Princess Sigyn have been exceedingly accommodating and ceaselessly patient over the past weeks as I have begun my studies at the Sanctum, and it was with great surprise that I learned that some of Asgard’s greatest leaders had studied here, and that they had been left out of our archives. This is something I aim to remedy once I return.

In the spirit of new beginnings, I have to confess that I find myself overwhelmed at times, but with joy and pride rather than the darkness that used to poison me from within. The Masters here have expressed their intuition that I was born with an innate connection to magic, and that all I needed to harness it was the right instruction - with no offense forwarded to you, as you are the greatest Queen the Nine Realms has had in generations and your knowledge in seidr is nothing to underestimate. It is due to your guidance that I have come this far as a practitioner already, and I could never thank you enough for that, and for allowing me to come here.

With regards to my abilities, as you well know, I have always been able to manipulate cold, particularly in response to my intolerance to heat. I discussed this issue in length with one of my Masters, and she believes that this power inside of me exists to protect me, and the fact that it has been there since I was an infant that couldn’t possibly control it suggests that I am a born sorcerer with the potential to someday be a powerful seidr Master. It is a lot to live up to, but I can feel in my bones that there is more than a grain of truth to it.

With winter now in full swing, I find my time in Alfheim to be much more comfortable than it would be in Asgard, as the weather swings to such extremes there that I was forced to remain indoors nearly all year while the seasons are much more mild here. This realm is truly breathtaking, its forests and architecture a thing of rare beauty that I was unprepared for - and the Alfar are a sophisticated people who are practiced in magic and in the appreciation of life. Only yesterday I was walking through the castle gardens after snowfall, reciting incantations to myself, and I saw and joined Princess Sigyn and several common Alfar in skating on the lake that had frozen over. Somehow it is in their blood to balance work and play without an overindulgence in either, and they are happier for it. As am I.

My mind often wanders to home, to you and Thor and Father and the Kingdom’s affairs. There are a few Aesir Healers in training here at the Sanctum, but they are not privy to castle gossip and know next to nothing about what goes on. It takes little stretch of the imagination to believe life is a bit less complicated for you without me there to enrage Father with my failures or for Thor to pass blame onto for his latest antics. I will be granted visitation time after my first decade of studying has been completed, and I will be released to spend that autumn season in Asgard before the next year starts. I believe you will find me a changed person, unrecognizable from the shell of a boy I once was, and I hope it makes you proud.

I will write you again the next full moon, and in the meantime I would enjoy hearing from you. It is with best wishes for your continued health and happiness that I send my love. Perhaps I will learn to cast illusions between realms over the next few years so I can speak to you in person more often.

Loki

.-

Five years had passed since Loki first came to Alfheim, his skills flourishing, his confidence higher than ever, and even his room boasted brighter colors and a larger bay window to let in more light. The princess Sigyn was becoming like a younger sister to him, and they both looked to each other for advice and support as she approached the age to begin her own studies at the Sanctum. On the last day of the fifth summer, Loki sat on a chair in his bathroom letting Gwyn braid his hair, which had grown down to the middle of his back with not a single split end in sight, thanks to Gwyn’s tedious care. Loki was still grateful that he had such a spirited and dedicated maid to help him, and she insisted she was happy to take care of the small things like dressing and cleaning so his mind was free to worry about the big things - his studies, inter-realm diplomacy, and learning from Frèyr what it meant to be a good and efficient King, even if he never got the throne.

Gwyn ran Loki’s brush through the bottom half of his hair that wasn’t braided, slowly working the oils through to tame his curls. “So when were you going to tell us?” she asked casually, and Loki frowned, his heart skipping a beat. He had tried to keep it private, at least for now.

“Tell you what?”

“Alright, I get it,” she conceded. “I won’t push. You’re a Prince, though, so people are bound to figure it out eventually, especially when you pick one as handsome as you did.” Loki met her eyes in the mirror, his cheeks and ears bright red, and she winked at him.

.-

Mother,

Now that the first five years of my apprenticeship have been completed and I have proven my worth amongst the student body, the Masters are granting me further privileges at the Sanctum, including access to certain restricted material and private practice time with more advanced skills like teleportation and camouflaging magic. The Alfar possess the largest collection of texts and reference books in the Nine Realms, giving me unparallelled opportunity to further my education. Indeed, if Thor takes the throne as I expect he will, I may choose to become a teacher myself in the future, to fill in the gaps that Asgardian schools leave.

For the first time I find myself vexed by affairs of the heart, even amidst the work I have to do as part of my training. It feels superfluous to pursue something that will likely only be a fleeting infatuation, but even so, I cannot ignore what draws my attention - and I fail to find the right person to ask advice from.

There is someone from Vanaheim that I have studied alongside for the last five years and with whom I have developed a close friendship. But there’s more than the innocent friendly feelings one might have - that one should have.

I find my thoughts drifting to my friend when they are not otherwise occupied with scholarly endeavors. I find myself wishing to spend more hours together. I find myself daydreaming about him! I am surprised I haven’t started writing love stories about us.

Yes, it is a “he”. Which is part of why I am conflicted. I realized I have no qualms with the notion of a relationship between people of the same gender. The Alfar and the Vanir are open to all kinds of demonstrations of love, much more than Asgard. I just never thought it would happen to me.

I cannot describe the way he makes me feel, or the way we understand each other with just a look. Small things make me think he might feel the same way. But I can’t escape the tightness that sets in my chest every time I think maybe he doesn’t.

It could be something, it could be nothing, but if there was only one thing I have learned about intuition, it’s to trust it. Only time will show whether my affections are returned - and after all, all we have is time.

I expect Father would be none too pleased if he knew this, and I am confiding in you because I know you won’t tell him and even will help me in dispelling rumours that I am sure have reached Asgard.

As always, I send my love and promise that I will take my leave at the first opportunity so you can stop worrying so much, at least for a while.

Loki

.-

Loki received a reply letter faster than he ever had before, his heart skipping quite a few beats when he returned to his room after supper less than a week later. He held the textured and sealed paper in one hand and fussed with his braid in the other, debating whether to open it or not - suppose Odin had intercepted or found his last letter and this was a notice that he was being disowned? What if Frigga shared the knowledge of his friend Erik and they were all laughing at him back home?

No, Loki scolded himself for even thinking of such a betrayal from his own mother. You’re being ridiculous. It has Frigga’s seal on the wax enclosure. He took a seat at his desk and opened the letter with shaking hands, and he could hear Gwyn letting herself in as he read, grateful she didn’t interrupt him as she busied herself getting his bath and sleeping clothes ready.

The letter detailed the latest goings-on at the castle and Kingdom, from Thor’s upcoming diplomatic trip to Vanaheim, wherein the Prince would stay at the castle for a week and negotiate the new trade dealings in Odin’s stead, to the recruitment of a rather feisty woman warrior named Sif to Thor’s inner circle of friends, and the speculation that she would one day be his intended.

Frigga went on to conclude in her brief reply that it would be wise to keep anything romantic that would happen between himself and his friend in private as much as possible so word would not reach Asgard, that she supported him but his father would not, and she would do what was necessary to quell any gossip about him. Few people dared to question the Allmother, Loki knew.

When he finished, Loki saw Gwen standing next to him with a patient smile on her face, her hands folded in front of her. Having gotten to know the woman over the past few years, Loki trusted Gwyn, and wanted to feel comfortable telling her about Erik - and a part of him suspected she knew anyway - but since even he wasn’t sure that it was anything to tell at all, he decided not to. He looked up at Gwyn’s soft eyes and half-smiled.

“Is all well in the Capitol, your Highness?” She had her eyebrow quirked up in the way it always did when she was trying to say something without actually saying it out loud. Gwyn knew him too well sometimes.

Loki ran his thumb over the broken wax seal and shrugged his shoulders. “They’re… trying to figure out whether to start an alliance with a neighboring planet, but they’re, ah, unsure whether relations with them are secure enough to do so.”

Gwyn hummed cryptically. “I see. I often find that answers lie in instinct of the heart, but I am just a handmaid and you don’t have to listen to me, my Prince.”

Loki had to smile at that. “One would be wise,” he assured her, “to heed the advice of a woman who has had her finger on the pulse of a thriving kingdom for thousands of years, even if she is a maid.”

.-

Loki and Erik exited the tavern in a giggle fit; they had caused enough mayhem for the night and they were politely invited to leave, after perhaps just a bit too much to drink.

Over the years, the pair had become infamous as the trickster duo, as it was their trademark to pull pranks together at any possible moment in a way that wouldn’t get them in trouble for it. Though the Masters at the Sanctum, as well as most of the older adults in Alfheim’s nearby villages, found their tricks to be less than amusing, the two friends still had risen their way to the top of their classes, had many friends, and were hardly ever seen without the other close by.

Loki walked Erik to the village’s group home he and their Vanir classmates shared during the courses. It was late, and fully dark outside, the springtime insects and gurgling river creating a nighttime symphony that kept the atmosphere light. The laughs they were having on the way slowly turned into an awkward silence when they reached the gates.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Loki said with a small smile, and turned to leave.

Erik held his breath, and grabbed Loki’s hand, pulling him back. His other hand pulled Loki down by the neck. Loki was too stunned to do anything, and accepted the kiss Erik offered with joy. If Erik weren’t holding on to him, Loki might have leapt with happiness.

The kiss wasn’t much, and too short for Loki’s liking, but it left them both breathless and shaking slightly anyway.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” Erik confessed, hands sliding down Loki’s shoulders and chest, his fingers fidgeting with the strings that tied his tunic closed in the front. “Years.”

“Why didn’t you do it sooner?” Loki asked, part of him still unwilling to believe what had happened.

“You are an aesir prince!”

“So?”

“So?” Erik said with a scoff. He threw his arms out to the side in an exasperated shrug. “Asgard is not renowned for their acceptance of- unconventional relationships.”

Loki looked at his own shoes, face red with embarrassment. “I know, and you have no idea how hard it is to-” He gulped, not sure if he wanted to say what was next, what had lain heavy in his heart for over half a decade.

Erik sighed deeply and took Loki’s hands, stepping closer to him. “Please be honest with me, Loki. I swear I won’t get mad and I swear will still be friends. We’ve known each other for too long to change that.”

Loki’s heart was pounding inside his chest when he looked at Erik. Every word was jumbled in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Honest? First he had to be honest with himself… With every second Loki took to answer, Erik’s hold on his hands slacked. If he let go-

“No.” Loki suddenly breathed out, startling Erik.

Loki gripped Erik’s hands and pulled him close again, leaning down to kiss him. This second kiss was far better. Loki was more confident and comfortable, knowing Erik felt the same way he did. Erik wrapped his arms around Loki’s neck as he stood on the tip of his toes, trying to deepen the kiss.

“Damn you for being so tall!” Erik said, breaking away to breathe.

“Would you like me to summon a box?” Loki teased. “Or maybe a ladder?”

“Shut up!” Erik slapped Loki’s arm, playfully squirming to get away from him.

But Loki tightened his grip around Erik, his giggles falling on Erik’s hair. Erik took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around Loki’s waist.

“This feels nice,” Erik said after a moment’s thoughtful silence.

Loki had to agree. Erik’s height was just so that the top of his head tucked right under his own chin. He gently cupped the back of Erik’s neck with one hand and ran his hand down Erik’s back with the other. He didn’t want this stolen moment to end - but of course he knew it had to.

“I am sorry that I will have to ask you to keep it from public view.” Loki sighed, deflated. “Mostly at the school. With the Aesir healers-”

“Of course.” Erik looked up at Loki, pushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “Word travels fast there.”

“I really have to get back to the palace,” Loki said somberly. He took Erik’s face in his trembling hands and gave him another quick, soft kiss.

“Then I will see you tomorrow, and we can do more of this, preferably while sitting down.” Erik chuckled, the sound even more charming to Loki than before.

“I can still summon a box,” Loki mused, getting an annoyed eye roll from Erik. “Goodnight.”

Loki watched Erik depart and sprinted the rest of the way back to the castle, taking the secret entrance that Sigyn had shown him years before to avoid the guards. When he got back to his room, his heart was still flying with exultation, and he could hardly contain his breathless, joyful laughter as he fell onto his immaculately made bed and buried his head in his pillows.

All day the next day at the Sanctum, Loki had to force himself to stop constantly thinking about Erik so he could focus in class. He and Erik stole looks at each other from across rooms, touched hands beneath tables when they got to sit together, and sneaked off to the restrooms to kiss during lunch break, all the while hoping desperately that no one would catch them.

“This examination coming next week is going to be brutal,” Erik groaned as they were walking toward the palace once the day was over. Loki knew Erik was referring to the hours-long practical exam in conjuring and teleportation just a few days away, and they were going to study together at the palace to get some practice - and alone time - in. They were within shouting distance of the castle and Loki couldn’t wait to take Erik to the library for some privacy.

Seeing no one around, Loki put his arm around Erik’s shoulders and squeezed. “I know,” he said wearily, “but if there’s anyone that can pass, it’s you. And me, with you there,” he added, and Erik looked up at him with a flattered smile.

“Loki, my dear boy!” Frèyr’s ringing voice carried down the path to the two of them and they parted with a jump. “Erik, how lovely to see you! Will you be joining us for supper this evening?”

Erik, completely frozen in place, had been rendered unable to speak by the surprise of the moment, so Loki answered for him. “Yes, he will,” he said confidently, practiced in the art of hiding his emotions. “We have a test to study for, so we’ll be going to the library.”

Frèyr looked from one boy to the other, his eyes twinkling. “Of course,” he said, a smile spreading wide across his face. “I will ensure none of the guards or staff will interrupt your… studying.”

Loki found himself less than hungry at dinner, distracted by Erik’s foot tapping his underneath the table. He poked his food around with his fork and kept looking from where Frèyr and Sigyn were talking, to across the table where Erik was staring at him while he ate. He could still feel the ghost of Erik’s lips on his own, could smell his hair on his clothes. His thoughts back in the library, Loki stroked his thumb on his lower lip, and didn’t hear Frèyr addressing him until he got a light tap on his shoulder.

“Loki, your boyfriend asked you a question.”

Loki sat up straight and dropped his fork. “Oh, sorry, Erik,” he said distractedly, “what were you saying?”

A second too late, Loki realized his mistake. He and Erik stared at each other with wide eyes, neither of them breathing, until Frèyr and Sigyn broke the silence and tension with their laughter.

Sigyn pushed against Erik’s shoulder and took a sip of her wine. “Calm down, you two,” she said, and patted Erik’s hand. “You guys are safe here.”

Loki closed his eyes and sighed with relief. He should have known. “You understand why we didn’t say anything, right?” He opened his eyes again to see Erik’s terrified expression. “My father, he can’t find out about this. He would be… displeased.”

“You didn’t have to say anything you didn’t want to say, Loki.” Frèyr said, patting Loki’s shoulder. “Besides…” The king looked at his daughter.

“We’ve known for a while now, you both are as subtle as mating bilgesnipes.”

.-

“Is it true you get to leave when the spring is over?”

Erik and Loki were walking down the white cobblestone path toward the castle after class to study together - and other things - less than a month before Loki’s scheduled visit to see his family in Asgard. It had been a long and productive ten years, and Loki had grown in more ways he had ever thought possible, physically, emotionally, and in his power.

Loki smiled down at Erik sadly at this reminder. “Yes, and I am both looking forward to it and dreading it all at once,” he admitted, and shifted the weight of his books from one arm to the other, freeing the one closest to Erik. His hand was close enough to touch Erik without it looking awkward to anyone else who might see, he could put his arm on his shoulder…

“It’s the King, right?” Erik’s question interrupted Loki’s thoughts and he nearly jumped. “And your brother.”

“Am I that transparent?” Loki teased, knowing there had been many times that the two of them spoke of little else. Erik had the intuition and ear of a healer, being Vanir by birth, with the intellect, strength, and reflexes, if not the height, of a future seidr warrior, and many a discussion between them over the years had segued to Loki’s family.

Erik bumped playfully into Loki’s side, making him stumble briefly, and they laughed. “I’ve said this before,” he began, slowing down his walking pace, “but you need to remember, they need to remember, you’re not the kid you were when you got here. You’ve changed - for the better, I think - and you have the power now to prove it. Remind them.”

Loki’s lips turned up in a smile that did not reach his eyes. Grasping Loki’s wrist, Erik pulled him to a stop, staring up at him with a serious expression. “I mean it. You can’t let them walk all over you, Loki. Look at you - you’re thriving, you’re growing, you’re…”

Loki’s stomach clenched and he fought the urge to brush Erik’s wild hair from his face. There was no guessing who might pass them and see. “I’m…what?”

Erik squeezed Loki’s wrist a little tighter and cleared his throat. “You’re a Prince,” he finished, breathing harder than before. “Far be it from me to know the dynamics of a royal family, or question the King, but it has always sounded like you’ve been treated as second-best. You don’t deserve that.”

Loki’s heart warmed at Erik’s words. Somewhere in his mind he knew Erik was right, but he wasn’t sure that he would be of the same level of confidence when he returned to see his family. Loki had made a life for himself here among the Alfar; he had friends, and a boyfriend (albeit a secret one) and he had found new family bonds with the King and Princess, ones he doubted could be broken by distance or time.

“Just... remember what you have here, Loki,” Erik said warmly. “Whenever they get you down or they don’t appreciate you enough, remember what you’ve built here.”

.-

The first day of summer was almost upon them. Term was over, and Loki had excelled once again on his examinations, so much that Master Indilwen had offered him the chance to advance his education through private lessons. It was an honor to be granted such opportunity, knowing Master Indilwen was the most skilled shapeshifter in the Nine Realms. Loki had studied the craft extensively, but lacked the proper guidance. He accepted the master’s offer without much thought.

The night before his departure, Loki was in his chambers, trying to select what to bring to Asgard with him and putting it inside of one of his trunks. The short blond boy sitting on his desk with his legs dangling over the side was something Loki would like to throw inside as well.

“Promise you will write.”

They had had this same conversation nearly every day for the preceding month, but Loki knew Erik couldn’t help the sad whine in his voice. “Every week,” he promised, giving Erik a wink.

“And no ogling over those Aesir warriors, with their tall and sculpted bodies.”

Loki dropped a few journals inside the trunk and looked at Erik flatly. “If the Aesir’s tall and sculpted bodies were my kind of thing, what would I be doing with a tadpole such as yourself?” He laughed and bumped Erik’s leg with his elbow.

Erik huffed and crossed his arms, feigning offense. Loki shook his head and closed the now full trunk with resigned finality. He took a deep breath and walked over to Erik, standing between his knees, leaning on the desk, hands on either side of his boyfriend’s legs.

“I am going to miss you, my tadpole,” Loki said in a low voice, leaning down to press his forehead to Erik’s. He could smell the earthy scent of Erik’s skin, the gentle soapy aroma of his hair and clothes, with just a hint of sandalwood oil. Once again Loki fought the urge to simply toss Erik into his trunk and sneak him into Asgard. What a stir that would cause, he mused to himself.

“Longshanks!”

“Yes, all of them.”

Loki leaned in and kissed Erik before he could retaliate and held there, savoring the feeling of his soft lips and the slight moan he gave when Loki placed his hand on the back of his neck.

“Told you they’d still be in here,” Sigyn’s amused voice rang from the doorway. Loki pulled back from the kiss and turned to see her standing with Gwyn, both of them smiling conspiratorially.

“Alright, boys, time’s up,” Gwen clucked in her mother hen voice. “The Prince has a big day tomorrow and he’s going to need his sleep. Off you go, blondie.”

Erik wrapped his arms around Loki’s shoulders and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Loki felt him stroking his long hair, which now reached almost to the small of his back. He didn’t want to let go - to let go meant accepting that it would be months before seeing Erik again - but Gwyn cleared her throat insistently and Loki knew he had to step away from the desk and let Erik get down.

“Come, now, it’s only for the season,” Sigyn reassured them. “Loki will be back before you know it, you’ll see. You can come visit me in the meantime, Erik, I’ll be preparing for my own exams.” She held out her hand and Erik gave Loki one last peck on his cheek before crossing the room to take Sigyn’s arm.

Loki watched morosely as Sigyn escorted Erik down the hall, and Gwen came in and patted him on the back. “I know it’s hard, love, but the Princess is right - a few months is nothing compared to how long the two of you may end up together.”

“Whatever will you do with your time while I’m gone?” Loki joked, trying to lighten his mood and get Erik off his mind.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” she said, crossing her arms with a smile and a wink. “I bet that if I were to dust this room from top to bottom I’d get enough of your stray hair to make a wig.”

Loki couldn’t think of anything else to say - he had avoided expressing his true disappointment in being away to keep Erik from getting upset, and the tears he had held back were threatening to appear. He knew it was pointless to feel this way, because, after all, it was only for a few months, but if truth be told, Loki was not looking forward to seeing anyone but his mother. Maybe Thor, if he dug deep. He brushed Gwyn’s hand away when she tried to pat his arm.

“I don’t want to bathe tonight, I just want to go to bed, if you don’t mind,” he said, in no mood to be consoled. He spoke with a sharp and cold inflection that made his maid frown. She hurried around the room to gather up his nighttime clothes in a pile on his bed and gave him an understanding smile before bowing and taking her leave for the night.

.-

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