#khutulun

[tasty-tiago]

Khutulun, Mongolian Princess Warrior

[ra-horakhty-art]

Happy women's day!

And today mongolian princess Khutulun congratulates you. She was Haidu's daughter, who was a grand grandson of Genghis Khan. Khutulun struggled like a man and ruled armies. She and her father took part in the Civil war in Mongolian Empire.

[city-of-ladies]

“In the early days of the Eurasian steppe, knowing how to use a bow and ride a horse could be the difference between survival or death. Wolves, enemy tribes, and other dangers lurked everywhere. “You’re pretty much out on the steppe by yourself [so] the men had to learn how to do the women’s jobs and the women had to learn how to do the men’s job,” says May. While men traditionally protected the camp and women cared for the tribe’s herds, everyone had to be ready to pick up the slack, especially if an enemy tribe decided to raid your own. “If you’re living in a group of 20 people and another 20 people ride over the hill and they want what you have, whether that be water or sheep or you name it, anything, it would be silly to have ten of [your] people just sitting on the ground,” says Greenland.

(...)

Before the late 12th century, tribes scattered across the steppe often fought each other, so every warrior mattered. If an enemy tribe decided to raid your camp, everyone, men and women, took up their bows and battle axes to defend their home.”

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

Khutulun, a descendant of Genghis Khan, refused to marry unless her suitor could beat her in a wrestling match. Nobody ever defeated her

[joshualunacreations]

One year ago, we adopted our second dog, Khutulun. It’s amazing to see how far she’s come since she showed up at our local rescue in very bad shape. My partner made a video to celebrate her journey and enemies-to-fluffers transformation with Pogi. 🥰 I named Khutulun after Genghis Khan's great-great granddaughter, a Mongol warrior princess renowned for defeating all of her male suitors in wrestling matches and amassing 10,000 horses as victory prizes. Our own Khutulun liked to wrestle her foster brother, who was 3x her size, and now Pogi gets to enjoy all the love. 😄 𝗖𝗪: Description and photos of animal harm from 0:06 to 0:20

[nickysfacts]

Khutulun was proving that women can be stronger then men 100 horses at a time!

🐴🇲🇳🐴

[valkyries-things]

KHUTULUN // PRINCESS OF THE MONGOLS

“She was a Mongol noblewoman and wrestler, the most famous daughter of Kaidu, a cousin of Kublai Khan. Her father was “most pleased by her abilities”, and she accompanied him on military campaigns. She was described by Marco Polo as a superb warrior, one who could ride into enemy ranks and snatch a captive as easily as a hawk snatches a chicken. She insisted that any man who wished to marry her must defeat her in wrestling. Winning horses from competitions and the wagers of would-be-suitors, it is said that she gathered a herd numbering ten thousand.”

[jurakan]

Fun Fact: Khutulun!

No one’s asked but Today You Learned about Khutulun!

Khutulun was the favorite daughter of Qaidu/Kaidu, one of Kublai Khan’s cousins. She was famous for being an incredible warrior, to the point that she refused to marry anyone who could not defeat her in wrestling (maybe she learned it from her fourteen brothers?). Which was apparently very difficult, because she won a lot of horses this way. She did eventually marry, although the identity of her husband is currently unknown!

Apparently Khutulun’s father was so fond of her, and believed in her potential as a leader and a warrior, that he tried to have her named as his heir. It didn’t work out–she ended up supporting one of her brothers. She died in her forties, which apparently led to some people suggesting she was assassinated.

Carlo Gozzi apparently made a play about her in the 1700’s. She’s also played by Claudia Kim in the Netflix series Marco Polo.

[thejackmeister-mongolhistory]

New video coming tomorrow on Qutulun, the famous wrestling princess — and what the sources say about her life beyond the wrestling tales. It's currently up now for patrons and channel members.

[trashyocstash]

the main girls

i think i coloured julie's hair too light lol, also changed up leila's facial features to better reflect her being iranian

[lightdancer1]

Last but not least, Khutulun:

Ending today with Khutulun, a Princess of the lineage of Arig-Boke who refused to conform to the customs of her time and who was noted as a heroic figure for it.

[do-you-ship-this-comic-ship]

[educationaldm]

I feel something like this could be fruitful for a quest or adventure. Perhaps the party are employed by a princess or perhaps by a suitor? I love interesting History.

[unbreakable-oaths]

champion - for the single-word fic prompt!

Thank you! Mostly because this got me out of my writing funk I've been sitting in for the past month.

Can also be read on ao3 here

Of Champions and Tragedies

Ysayle kissed her like her lips held an inescapable sin. Her white knight, her little dragon, with mother’s gift and taken in and turned champion by her enemies before she could find her. Turned into a weapon. Godslayer. Now a temptation she couldn’t quite resist even if it led to her death. (It did lead to her death, but not the way she anticipated.)

Cyella kissed her like she could find absolution in her lips. A century of answered prayers sent to reveal the truth hidden beneath a veil of light. An angel of death sent to extract retribution and instead choosing forgiveness. And, if she kept chasing those lips, she might even find it.

Khutulun the blacksmith claimed she was no such profound or holy thing. She was just a woman at the wrong place at the wrong time (the right place at the right time) who, after all that had transpired, would never be able to go home again. Champions had a cause, she maintained, a higher sense of purpose. All she had was a desire to test her mettle against what the world had to offer and escape the expectations shackled to her name, and maybe get to kiss a pretty girl or two if she was lucky.

“Is that not, little dragon,” Ysayle had said to her so long ago during a quiet night on their pilgrimage to Hraesvelgr, “how all champions start?”

“Your actions, my dear,” Cyella said to her now, during a quiet night in the Crystarium, “speak otherwise. Far louder than any of your protestations.”

And then they kissed her again.

“Champions,” Khutulun pointed out to each of them, when she could speak again, “are far better people than I. I am bloodthirsty, full of rage. When my shield broke, people died. Instead of reforging it stronger, I forged it into a weapon so it could never fail me again.”

“Little knight,” Ysayle chided, “you forget you’re speaking to a heretic.”

“Little warrior,” Cyella chided, “you forget you’re speaking to the Shadowkeeper.”

“Retribution is a righteous motivation for a champion to have,” Ysayle had said, back then.

“Rage is a powerful emotion,” Cyella said to her, now, “all champions have those. How else would they keep going against all odds?”

And then they kissed her again.

Khutulun the blacksmith was not a champion. She was a woman running from destiny even as it kept showing up at her door. Champions were better people, braver people (not that she wasn’t brave) than she. People who stood for a cause because they believed in it, not because they didn’t have a choice. She was just a blacksmith with a sword and a gift, dragged into this because the temptation of testing her mettle against “impossible” foes was too much for her to resist. Champions, she’d protest, have cleaner hands and cleaner consciouses than her. There was neither sin nor absolution to be found on her lips. She was a godslayer, not a god. Champions were holy things, and she was not.

“I don’t think,” Ysayle said to her, “champions don’t get to choose what they are. That is their tragedy.”

“A self-proclaimed champion is no champion at all,” Cyella echoed, years later, “Trust me, I would know.”

And then they kissed her again.

Champions, Khutulun lamented, had far too many people die for them. Left far too many people behind. She was not worth the trail of bodies left in her wake.

The Ysayle in her dreams smiled. “I’d do it again,” that smile said even as memory faded away.

“That is,” Cyella sighed, “the champion’s other tragedy. It is not up to you to decide if you’re worth it.”

And then she kissed her again.

Khutulun the blacksmith would never consider herself a champion. She was far too foolish for that. But for others? She would play the part, after all they had long ago decided without her that that’s what she was. And perhaps, she decided, that was actually her tragedy.

[thedawningofthehour]

If the fam wake up one day and sudently none of them can remembered their names, what names do you think they would suggest? They are not allowed to name themselves, but they can name others. Draxum is also included btw.

I mean, their colors? Splinter would probably just default to that. Draxum would probably have cringe mythological names ready for them, Norse or otherwise. Like how Bella is named after the Roman goddess of war. (her parents let Drax name her since he invented the process that allowed her to exist in the first place-his first choice, Khutulun, was rejected for obvious reasons)

[kailan-sunshine]

Love that for her

“The niece of the great mongol leader, Kubla Khan, Princess Khutulun was described by Marco Polo as the greatest warrior in Khan’s army. She told her uncle she would marry any man who could wrestle her and win. If they lost they had to give her 100 horses. - She died unmarried with 10,000 horses. ”—sandi toksvig’s top 10 unsung heroines