#muslim castle

[blueberrypie20]

"What'll happen to your ocs after the final battle???"

I have only two OCs so it'll be easy for now XD. info under the cut!

Jun'ichi: He fights and beheads Nakime, but his heart nearly stops, he has a freefall and crashes into the floor with sm scars already, so he leaves the infinity castle but REAL HARMED. Manages to fight Muzan (even stabs one of his hearts out! Revenge for Tae-Jun 😋) and falls in a comatose right after sunrise (his heart nearly stopped again in there. XD). He's unconscious for more than half a year. He lives on, with his illness cured, but loses his vision completely due to detachment of the retina and has many many scars all over his torso and body.

Roqia: She fights douma, however loses an arm. Leaves the IC but loses her other arm to Muzan and he later beheads her. She didn't have time to bid anyone goodbye and everyone gets sad by reading the note she left in her uniform in case she died :( (she gives her belongings to people she likes. Her ring & earrings go to Makoto ☆)

@larz-barz @iincogneeto @love-stvrs @pinkwisteria @misty-sees-you

[jesusislord3333]

[usssnarfblat]

"The Knight and the Princess" (2019) - Scenery

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU pt3

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 4 is here. Find the AU masterlist here! Check out my MASTERLIST here.

"This is so unnecessary" you whispered to the man sitting behind you. "Everyone's staring." Your eyes scanned over the mass of people in town, as your horse passed through.

You thought you would get your own horse, but Baldwin had other plans apparently, as he just picked you up from your armpits and plopped you in front of him on his horse.

You could feel him smiling from ear to ear. "I think they're just in awe of your beauty. I would suggest getting used to the stares, now."

You rolled your eyes. "Dont flatter me. I know how I look, besides- I was referring to us sharing a horse. Its unnecessary and its why everyones looking at us."

"I think its unnecessary to get another horse for you. You dont know how to ride them, and believe me when I tell you- these horses are wild. I dont want you to get hurt when they kick you off." He teased.

You scoffed. Alright, maybe you werent an equestrian, but how hard would it be to ride a horse anyways? Didnt Baldwin learn to ride one when his right arm was paralysed and he had to do with his thighs mostly to control the horse?

"Still, I couldve gotten a carriage. Or better yet walked? Maybe even ride a horse with someone else-" You quieted down as you felt a pair of lips peck behind your ear.

"Dont even think about it. Why would I let anyone touch you, be this close to my princess-" his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you back closer to him. "Wouldnt you prefer your soon-to-be-husband to help you instead?" He whispered as his hand slowly found its way to rest on your belly, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you pulled his hand away and smacked it when it tried to touch your waist again. "Behave, Baldwin." You admonished with a smile as people looked at you. You dont want to create a scene (especially not one where history would report some lady smacking King Baldwin).

You getting flustered and angry only made him chuckle, as he leaned down to give the back of your head a kiss.

Enough with the PDA already. Arent medieval times supposed to be more conservative?

Ugh. Your lips formed into a thin line. Maybe he'll back off when you reach Salauddin and he sees how other Muslims act.

With some entourage accompanying you guys, you travelled away from the kingdom for almost an hour or so until you crossed that one sand dune beyond which Salauddin and his people were camping.

Before reaching the dessert, you had asked Baldwin if he had something that you could cover yourself up with. You want to adhere to the customs and not accidentally piss off one of the greatest Muslim rulers. Sure, you could've worn something more concealing before leaving the castle, but neither of you wanted people to know that you two were going to meet Salauddin.

Baldwin nodded and in one swift motion, he had removed his cloak and wrapped it around you, bringing the hood over you.

"But- what about you?" you looked back at him with wide eyes. People didnt just wear full length clothes back then just because of modesty, but also to protect their skin from sun damage.

He smiled. "I'll be fine, princess." No, you wont. And you're not risking yet another historical change by having the king of Jerusalem getting skin cancer.

Immediately, you tore off the bottom of your tunic and made a keffiyeh (a headdress) which covered both his head and his face. "There, now we can go."

From the keffiyeh, only his eyes were visible, which crinkled up. "Did you cover me up because you dont want women staring at me in awe?"

"What? Of course not. You just recovered from leprosy. Your skin would be sensitive to the harsh sun and heat of the desert-" He cut you off by laughing lightly.

"Whatever you say, princess. Whatever you say."

As you neared the camps, you saw men dressed in battle armour coming out of the tents, and you from the way he walked, the way he dressed, even his mere presence could make you recognise Salauddin from a mile away.

The horse stopped and Baldwin got down first before helping you down. You followed him as he walked towards Salauddin, who was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. An erie silence settled all around you, the sound of air whooshing being the only thing audible for a few moments. Salauddin stared into Baldwin, while men from both sides glared at each other, one hand on their swords, ready to fight.

"Salam alaikum." Baldwin spoke first.

Peace be upon you.

You heart dropped for a second when Salauddin didnt reply back immediately. With your hood covering your face, you couldnt exactly see his expressions, only resorting to his body language and sounds to anticipate his mood.

Salauddin's lip quirked up. "Walaikum asalaam." He opened his arms and both men embraced each other for a few moments and you could feel the tension around you finally melting away as men from both sides finally started conversing with each other normally now that their kings were talking amicably.

Salauddin patted his back and raised a brow at you. "Who taught you the keffiyeh to cover that sore face of yours?" Baldwin chuckled. "My fiancee- Y/n, princess come here will you?" You walked closer to Baldwin. "This is Y/n, and we're both here today to invite you to our wedding. Darling, say hi, will you?"

You gulped. "Assalamu alaikum".

Salauddin's ears perked up. "Walaikum asalam. That was perfect pronunciation. Have you been taught by Arab scholars?"

"About that..." Baldwin chuckled nervously. "Y/n, why dont you go there with the ladies? They seem pretty eager to meet you." Salauddin nodded his head and a couple of women, all wearing burqas approached you. "This is princess Y/n. Take good care of her." Salauddin told them as they took you to their tent, where only women remained.

Meanwhile, Salauddin let Baldwin in to his tent.

"So, whats the secret?" Salauddin asked as he sat down, beckoning Baldwin to do the same.

He took a deep breath. "Y/n is... a Muslim."

Salauddin blinked at him. "What?"

"She's Muslim." He repeated. "So could you just tell me about the Islamic wedding ceremony? Nikkah, right?"

Salauddin stared at him. "Are you joking?"

"No."

"You cant marry her, Baldwin."

"Why not?"

"Because she's a Muslim and you're Catholic!"

"So? I havent seen it stop Muslims from marrying non muslims."

"No- only muslim men can marry non muslim women. It doesnt work the other way around."

"Salauddin, thats sexist."

"Its not sexist- nevermind, I cant help you understand it. But no, you cant marry a Muslim woman."

"What if... shes not Muslim?" Salauddin gave him a puzzled look. "I... believe Y/n may be using religion as an excuse not to marry me."

"If she doesnt want to marry you, why do you wanna marry her?"

"She does want to marry me, she's just... confused. Look, Salauddin. She cured me- CURED leprosy. This doesnt happend to anyone. She- she has something holy about her. How else do you explain this miracle?"

"So what? You think God and what- Jesus? chose this girl for you? That they gave her healing hands to cure your disease? You think shes of divinity?"

Baldwin smiled softly. "I do." Salauddin rolled his eyes. "Youre infatuated with her, Baldwin. Its temporary. She performed some magic, or tricks and you think she's divine? Do not make a fool of yourself."

"Then explain how I suddenly got well, Salauddin. Youve travelled the world, you sent me your best Arab healers, you believe in sciences- explain to me how I was cured of my incurable disease."

Salauddin gazed at the young king. "Let me guess, she claimed that she's been sent by Almighty God to cure the King and save Jerusalem, and in return, you must marry her or give her your throne to fulfil some prophecy?"

Baldwin chuckled, leaning back against the ottoman a bit. "Actually, she's been denying that she did anything to help me, she keeps on making excuses to marry me, she avoids my affection- and if I'm being honest, attention." Salauddin's eyes furrowed a bit. What game are you playing?

"Maybe... Black magic?" Salauddin is well aware of witchcraft, its been mentioned by his religion too.

Baldwin shrugged. "She's far too angelic to be associated with that. I'm sure there would be prominent signs if she was involved in any sort of magic or witchcraft."

Salauddin was about to reply but just then, his guards came running in.

"Salauddin! There's a sandstorm coming!" Immeadiately both kings sprung up.

"Tie up the animals! Tell everyone to get in and take cover!" Salauddin barked orders at his men.

The women in your tent were immediately informed of the situation and they quickly started taking measures, with the men outside helping to nail down the tent and gathering the baby animals and children, bringing them inside the tent.

You got up to leave and go to Baldwin, but the women pushed you back down, telling you its not safe to leave.

"The storm is here! You can't leave now!" Well, alright then. You plopped back down on your seat, when you heard someone cry out loud and your eyes immeadiately saw the liquid on the floor.

Of course it was the pregnant lady.

The woman had went into labour and everyone rushed to help her. Everyone but you. Nuh uh, youre not meddling in this time, lest anyone else accuses you of having magic healing hands.

Another harrowing scream pierced through the room, with the harsh winds threatening to blow away the tent adding on to the tension.

Maybe I could just stand near them, just to make sure they are using proper hygiene. Or actually just to see how midwifes worked in the past. Yes, its for science.

You stood near the midwifes, out of their work field because you dont want to be an obstacle. Of course, you may have had caught the sight of the poor woman and her... vagina, which youre ashamed to say has made you sick to your stomach because child birth is not a beautiful phenomenon and fuck this shit youre never having babies.

After almost an hour, the baby was finally out. The stench of sweat and blood and the nightmarish sights you'd caught glimpses of had made you want to throw up when suddenly the enviorment turned gloomy. And it hit you.

The baby wasnt crying.

The mother who was previously crying from labour, was now crying due to a different kind of pain.

You felt for her, you truly did. Carrying a child for 9 months, making sure to take every precaution, not to mention the constant prayers for a healthy baby (and for some, specifically a boy) otherwise the mother would be blamed.

The midwife put the dead baby in the bassinet beside you before tending back to the grieving mother, who was still bleeding from down there.

"Poor Fatima." You heard one of the women whisper to her friend. "To wait for 8 years before she finally conceived... only for her child to die before he could even take his first breath."

Your heart broke as you heard them, the woman sobbed inconsolably. You turned your head to look at the baby in the bassinet and subconsciously, you wondered what went wrong.

Doesnt look like he was choked by the umbilical cord... and he doesnt look cyanotic either, so he probably wasnt dead inside the womb. Your eyes widened. Maybe-!

Your hands went to pick up the baby before halting mid air. No. No. I cant interfere- I cant mess with history more than I already have. I cant save a child who was destined to die-

Your head whipped to the woman who let out a shrill, devastating cry, begging God to let her son live.

Fuck it. You picked up the baby. Maybe this baby was destined to live.

Immeadiately you checked for breathing before putting the baby on a table nearby and placed two fingers on the left side of his chest, starting compressions.

"1. 2. 3-" you muttered under your breath, trying to recall what was drilled into your head when you were attending first aid classes. Pinching the baby's nostrils, you breathed into his mouth, eyes watching as his chest rise and drop. You repeated the compression set 2 more times when the baby finally took a huge breath and began crying.

Picking up the baby, you ran towards the bucket of water and started cleaning the baby's head and face off the mix of blood and amniotic fluid, while massaging his back and his feet to encourage him to breathe on his own.

After a few minutes, you turned around to cover the baby with a cloth swaddling him up nicely and thats when you finally looked around you.

Everyone was staring at you in shock, the sound of the baby crying echoing the silence.

Shit. You rocked the baby gently as you handed him to his mother, who also looked at you in shock with tear streaks on her cheeks. I hope... they didnt see me do CPR.

Yes, damage control. Thats what you need to do. You cleared your throat. "Um- yes, Allah has blessed you with a beautiful son. Lets be grateful to Him." And the women slowly began talking again and agreeing, some saying that they'll go give sadaqah (charity to please God) while others were going to go pray.

When you turned around, you saw Baldwin and Salauddin standing at the entrance of the tent, the former having a beaming smile while the latter looked in surprise.

Maybe it was the stench of sweat and blood in the room, maybe it was emotional situation you went through (high key nauseating), or maybe it was the mix of amniotic fluid and blood on your mouth from when you saved the baby, but the next moment, you lost consciousness.

-

When you woke up, you noticed you were in a different, much bigger tent. Rubbing your eyes, you sat up with a groan.

"You're finally awake." You looked up to see Salauddin sitting at his desk in the other corner-

Salauddin? Your hands went to draw your hood over your face but you realised your (or well, Baldwin's) cloak had been replaced with a cotton niqaab that veiled your entire face except for your eyes.

Standing up, you looked in his direction. "Where's Baldwin?"

You heard him chuckle darkly. "He left."

"He left?" You heard him walk over to you, and instinctively you took a step back, narrowing your eyes at his audacity.

He towered over you, face neutral as he looked down at you. His hand gestured to his right, where a chess set was placed on a table.

"Do you play?" He asked, eyes never leaving yours.

Hesitantly, you nodded. He sat down, beckoning you to do the same.

"Ladies first." He let you start the game. "I should tell you though- if you wish to leave out of this place alive, you'll have to win."

What the shit? Is this some sort of psychological game? Or is this actually happening? I mean, people in the medieval times were crazy. Just because he's muslim shouldnt excuse him from insanity.

You picked up the white pawn. "Where is Baldwin?"

"I told you, he's gone." He moved his black pawn. "He sold you to me."

You looked up at him. What? "Focus on the game. You do not wish to know what will your fate be if you were to lose this game." You immediately picked up your bishop and moved it.

Salauddin clicked his tongue as he took your bishop. You moved your pawn again. "Why- why would he sell me? I'm his fiancee." You asked, your eyes never leaving the board. You're playing for your life here.

"Well, when we saw you use black magic to save that baby- oh, I took your other pawn too, mhm-" He smiled as he looked at your furrowed brows. "And then I told him that you cant be a muslim if you were using black magic."

"Black magic? When did I use it?!" you asked exasperatedly as you lost your knight.

"We saw you muttering something when you were "saving" that child." Muttering? When was I muttering? "One of the ladies even said they heard you whisper some repetitive words to a tune too."

Repetitive words-? You wanted to bang your head against concrete when you realised he was referring to you doing compressions to the rhythm of Stayin Alive by the BeeGees. This one is not your fault because the instructor taught you guys that.

"I was not doing black magic. Even so, who are you to decide if I am a Muslim or not?" You moved your other knight.

"I am Salauddin Ayubi-"

"So?" Salauddin looked at you.

So? So? No one has ever dared to ask him questions.

"Your real name is Yusuf. Salauddin is just a laqab, hm?" Your eyes never left the board as you made your move. "Do you think you're above me? Above Baldwin? Above anyone?" You didnt let him answer as you gestured at him to continue the game. "I dont recall you being a prophet. I dont remember you being a caliph even. So, Salauddin tell me what gives you the right to judge if I'm a muslim or not?" You asked as you took his pawn.

Salauddin narrowed his eyes at you, making his bishop take another pawn of yours. You didnt let it deter you as you practically snatched the same bishop of his with your rook. "Just because youre a muslim, you think you have the right to judge me?"

He scoffed at your words, making his move but you took yet another black pawn. "I am a Muslim. I was born in a Muslim family-"

"Exactly." You took more of his black pawns as he took your white ones. The board was mostly empty now. "You were born in a Muslim family. Do you honestly believe your Lord is happy with you because you were born in the right family? Is that the essence of what being a Muslim is?" Salauddin now looked at you but you didnt let your eyes stray away from the chess board. "Are you a Muslim because you were born in a Muslim family? Or were you born in a Muslim family because Allah knew you wouldnt find your way if you werent? If you were born in a catholic family, youd be a catholic? Lets say you are a Muslim, how do you know youre a good enough Muslim who can judge me? How do you know Allah will let you in heaven when youre on Earth declaring so and so is doing magic and isnt a muslim? Only Allah can judge us, not you Salauddin Ayubi." You stated calmly as you made your final move. "Thats checkmate."

You finally looked at him, your eyes holding satisfaction at his distressed face, though he masked it well.

How you wished to reveal to him that he was playing against a grandmaster whose parents made her take chess as a hobby since she was 6 because they believed it would make her smart and get into good colleges (it did. Thanks mom and dad.)

"Salauddin, we can play chess all you want but dont lie to me. You know I wasnt doing magic, and you know that I know that Baldwin wouldnt just leave me behind. So please, tell me, where is Baldwin?" Before he could reply, you continued. "Remember, lying is a sin."

At this, his eyes finally showed amusement. "He's outside, helping the women sew a niqaab for you. He wants to embroidery a flower in or something." You rolled your eyes at that. Of course, leave it to Baldwin to do cute romantic stuff.

Salauddin leaned back in his chair as he studied you. "So, how did you bring the baby back to life?"

"I prayed to Allah." He quirked a brow at you. "I also cleared his nostrils. They were plugged with fluid, so he didnt know or couldnt breathe with his lungs. Then I just warmed up his body a bit and he was crying- the baby was never dead. You know that no one can be saved from Azrael if Allah has written for that person to die."

Angel of death.

He gave you a nod, though his eyes watched you curiously. "How were you so sure that I knew you were a Muslim?"

You shrugged. "I just did." Why wouldnt you know when he was playing chess with you to check your psychology? Not to mention, he allowed you to be covered with a niqaab even when you were unconscious and let you stay in his tent? If he even doubted that you were a non muslim, you more than likely wouldve been treated far badly.

Salauddin chuckled. Of course, youd keep your secrets. "Then you know that as a Muslim woman, you cannot marry anyone of another faith."

"I dont plan on marrying Baldwin." You scoffed. "I already rejected him and have tried to sway his mind, but hes set on his decision. I think he actually believes that Im an angel or something divine."

He quirked a brow at you. "So he's forcing you to marry him?"

"I wouldnt say force- well, actually I would say that. But he doesnt treat me badly or anything. He's very sweet, even when I avoid him."

Salauddin clicked his tongue. "I could help you." You looked at him. "You are a Muslim, a part of the ummah. I could-"

"No. If youre suggesting starting a war, no." "Well, not a war, youre not that important." Damn. He grinned at your offended eyes. "I meant, I could send some people to sneak you out or-"

"No, if Baldwin finds out youre involved in any way in my escape he would-" you cant risk an extra crusade happening because of a damsel in distress, aka you. It would put the fate of Jerusalem at risk as well as the fate of the Ayyubid dynasty.

Wait. Ayyubid dynasty. They ruled over Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Yemen and so on. But Egypt was the learning center of the Islamic world during this time because they focused on arts and education which meant they hosted the world's greatest scholars there.

"Salauddin, can you get me to Egypt?" The king of Egypt, or sultan of Egypt looked at you quizzically. "I can, but why? Do you have family there?"

"What? No, I'm not running away to Egypt. Look, I just-" you cant explain to him about your escape plan that you were going to use the help of scholars to help you make the tools which you can use to fix your broken time machine. So, you lie. "You're someone who enjoys learning, right? I know you like history and sufism, and I would just love to get to know more about it."

With his head resting on his palm, he studied you. You intrigued him, and although he sensed you had ulterior motives, he agreed. "I cant take you there personally because I am busy here, but I could send you there with some trusted men." You smiled under your veil. This is exactly what you want. And almost as if he could sense your glee, he continued. "Your madly-in-love fiance wont send you alone, or at all."

"Let me worry about Baldwin, and he'll agree because I'm not running away. I'll work on my escape another way in which no one has to die." You said, finally standing up and walking out of the tent to find Baldwin who was sitting with the other veiled women, his eyes focused on the needlework.

"Baldwin." You called out with your hands behind your back as you walked upto him.

He looked up and his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of you. "Princess!" He stood up and immediately went to hug you but you stopped him before he could, nodding your head at onlookers. "Oh right, sorry." He smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, ears turning pink as the women giggled.

He then picked up the niqaab he'd been working on, the blue cloth matched the color of his eyes. "Look, I made that flower." There was embroidery done on the sleeves. And of course, amongst the mass of tiny, delicate pink and white flowers, Baldwin made the biggest, slightly wonky flower.

It brought a smile to your lips. Gosh, he's such a-

You shake your head. No. No. You cant.

"Its beautiful, Baldwin. Thank you." He grinned at your praise, nodding his head as he folded it up. Still holding the embroidered niqaab in his hand, he walked over to Salauddin and shook his head. "We should get going now. Thank you for hospitality, Salauddin." The Kurdish nodded. "Of course. You're always welcome. And if you have any more questions about our traditions and rituals, dont hesitate to reach out to me. Although your wife to be seems quite knowledgeable on the subject herself." Your eyes widened every so slightly. Did Salauddin- did he just acknowledge that you're not as dumb as he thought you were.

Baldwin smiled before leading you towards his horse, helping you get on it.

Salauddin watched as your entourage left, and his mouth twitched.

You have piqued my interest, Y/n. He called his right hand man.

"We still have spies in Baldwin's castle, right?" The man confirmed. "Excellent. Have them find out all they can about lady Y/n. And prepare a small entourage ready to go to Egypt."

"Wont we be staying here, sultan?" The man asked, confused as to why Salauddin would be leaving Jerusalem this early.

"We will, but I will make a short trip in between."

Of course, Salauddin cant just let you go to Egypt alone. The sultan will have to make proper arrangements to welcome you there.

And to find out what you're really there for.

He returned to his tent, his eyes landing on the chess board. Walking upto it, he looked at how you had defeated him.

Salauddin smirked, using his finger to knock down the white king.

It'll be fun to make Baldwin jealous.

Part 4 is here!

[9amartt]

Sins darken your heart, they taint your soul day after day, until the easiest of worship such as thikr, praying two rakaas, fasting on a winter day… become extremely difficult on you, this dunyah is hard, and us as muslims are afflicted with many tests and many evils from the shayateen of mankind and jinn, so let us not assist these devils against us by forsaking that which grants us life, peace of mind and protection: Ibadah. Let us not become an easy prey for depression and anxiety, the shayateen of manking and jinn are always waiting for us to weaken so that they can attack and destroy this castle of eeman that we took so long to build.

stick with us in this path, do it for yourself, don’t forsake yourself, don’t help shayateen against you. If everyone abandons you, hold yourself up, Allah has not abandoned you so seek His assistance. Never make your source of happiness and motivation anyone other than Allah, get used to be consistent even when the entire world is against you, even when no one is by your side. And remember one step in Jannah will make you forget this all❤️

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 9

And here we are at the end of the story. There is one more story left to be told. And that's "The Rise of The Fallen" which is scheduled to come out on Sunday. Then the second and final part will come out on Tuesday.

In this one, we get the reactions from Steve's other friends and Murray appears for a final fuck you to Nancy. With another sweet cameo from Vickie.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

~

They made their merry way through Europe, Murray keeping his eagle-eye out for fans and paparazzi alike, all while Steve took pictures of Eddie different outfits. His personal favorite was of Eddie standing next a group of Corroded Coffin fans at ‘The Shining” motel in Germany.

His hair was tucked up under a hat and he wore a baggy jeans and wore a fuzzy blue-grey sweater. He still had his scruff and the sunglasses almost made him look more like Johnny Depp, then Eddie Munson.

Eddie was sure to steer clear of blacks and leathers and to keep his hair out of his face. He even wore a bright orange wig in Romania and Vlad the Impaler’s real castle and not the one Hollywood used for their movies.

Everyone agreed he looked dreadful in the wig, but they couldn’t deny the damn thing’s effectiveness.

They parted with Murray in Greece. He had found a lovely little cottage to settled down in and so they bid their travel partner farewell.

There in while they were viewing the Hagia Sophia in Turkiye because Chrissy expressed an interest, they met Gareth and Shane.

“Eddie!” Gareth cried and ran into his arms for a big hug.

Robin and Steve were treated to the same bear hug from Shane. Steve held Shane at arms length and smiled. His twin looked good. There was a sparkle to his eyes that had been missing on the tour.

“You look great!” he enthused to Shane’s bemusement.

“Don’t I always?” Shane teased.

Steve laughed. “Of course you do, but you look...”

“Healthy,” Robin supplied.

Then Shane truly blushed. “Thanks. Someone suggested that maybe Muslim countries might be the way to go to avoid certain vices...”

“And how is that working out for you?” Steve asked with a smile.

“Good,” Shane said, “great even.”

They decided to tour the rest of Istanbul together. Just taking in all the beautiful sites.

Steve led Shane away from the group as they were saying their goodbyes.

“What’s on your mind, twin?” Shane asked, leaning up against the railing that looked out into the city.

“Eddie asked me to marry him.” Steve fiddled with the necklace as he spoke.

Shane gently took it from his nervous fingers and smiled. “What’s the charm on his necklace, then?”

“Wings.”

Shane’s smile widened. “Because of course it is. He’s going take good care of you, you know?”

Steve blushed and nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Shane said with a soft smile. “Now tell me all about how he proposed.”

So he did. He launched into the whole story, including the mess in Venice.

“Nice to see he isn’t Mr. Perfect,” Shane said with a huff of laughter. “But good on him realizing he done fucked up, though.”

“Yeaaahhh,” Steve said with wry smile.

They walked back to the others and Eddie looked up at Steve and smiled. Steve smiled back.

~

Their tour through Asia saw them seeing haunted forests and beautiful tombs. They saw the Terracotta warriors and the Great Wall of China, Himeji Castle and Aokigahara in Japan, the Chaukhadi Tombs in Pakistan. Finally they arrived in beautiful India.

They stood in front of the one of the most well known tombs in the world. The Taj Mahal. It was even more beautiful in person than it was in pictures.

Eddie turned to Steve. “When I die are you going to build me as beautiful a tomb as this?”

“Yeah, babe,” Steve said, pulling him close. “Everyone will know the resting place of Eddie Munson, rockstar and best boyfriend in the world.”

Eddie blushed and ducked his head, his hair tucked away as had become the norm on this trip. “Shucks, Stevie. I thought you were going to say no.”

Steve laughed, giddy. “Never. Maybe we should start building it now, like the pyramids in Egypt so you can be interred with your guitar collection.”

Eddie’s went wide. “You do love me!” He wrapped his arms around Steve and kissed him soundly.

“The things they allow in public these days,” huffed a fond female voice behind them.

The four of them turned to see Nadia, Spence and a couple of well dressed young men that must have been Nadia’s brothers.

“Nadia! Spence!” Robin squealed and ran over to give them huge hugs. She even included the brothers in her enthusiastic greetings.

“These are my brothers, Indra and Jai,” Nadia said introducing them. “This is Spence’s friend, Steve, his boyfriend Eddie and Chrissy and Robin also Steve and Eddie’s friends.”

They all greeted each other.

“You know,” Eddie said with a huff of laughter. “If I didn’t know any better I��d say Stevie’s friends were social media stalking us as we’ve met up with everyone at this point.”

“You saw Simon and Shane, too?” Spence asked, tilting his head to the side. “I knew you guys were traveling the world, but Italy and Turkiye, as well?”

“We’ve been having a blast!” Robin said throwing her arms out. “Chrissy and I are heading back to the States after India, but Steve and Eddie are going to continue with Australia, some Africa and a couple places in South America before coming home to California.”

Spence bit his lip. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He waved vaguely at Eddie.

Eddie grinned. “We’ve been taking the proper precautions and we wanted to extend our trip out a little bit more.”

Spence looked to Steve who nodded.

“Well,” Nadia said with her own huff of laughter. “If the biggest thing that happened was Boston and that was almost two months ago and you haven’t been spotted since, I think they’ll be just fine.”

Spence looked down at her with a broad grin. “You’re right.”

“You best get used to that,” the younger of the two boys, Jai said, “she is always right. Even our mom agrees with her most of the time.”

“It’s frightening,” Indra said, with a nod.

Nadia just smiled up at Spence with find amusement.

“Yup!” Spence said, pressing his lips together. “Learning that lesson fast.”

Steve let out a laugh and soon everyone had joined in.

~

They toured India a little more with suggestions from Indra who was also a spooky fan and then they moved on.

Everywhere they went, Eddie had tried on a different look. Often blending in with the locals. There were exotic locales and spooky hotels. And in each place, Steve took a picture of Eddie incognito.

Steve laughed more in those four months then he had since he started being Abbadon in The Fallen.

Eddie was right, being a normal guy had its perks and getting to spend that with Eddie? Really made it all worth it.

Far too soon they were lifting off the runway in Mexico City on their way back to their lives.

“Well, Stevie,” Eddie said with a smile, “you ready to go back home?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I loved traveling the world. Especially with Chrissy and Robin. Seeing the guys doing so well. It really made it all worth while. But I want to sleep in my bed. I want to start writing again. I really didn’t that much while we were traveling. I learned so much out here about me, I almost can’t wait to be Abbadon again.”

“I learned a lot about me, too,” Eddie agreed. “I’ve rarely had a chance to be myself in the last ten years that I almost forgot where I came from. I’m not the leather and chains. I’m not the heavy metal rockstar. I’m just a poor schmuck from Hawkins, Indiana who got so fucking lucky.”

“You think you’re next album is going to reflect that?” Steve asked as he rummaged in his backpack for his book.

“Probably,” Eddie huffed in amusement. “After the third solely dedicated to you.”

“Only a third?” he teased. “Dustin was sure it was half.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “Why do we tell that butthead anything?”

“I figure it’s that open and round face of his,” Steve groused. “It just screams ‘trust me’.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and then nodded. “Yeah, that tracks.”

~

Steve’s first stop after getting off the plane was straight to Vickie’s office. He needed to clear something with her before he went nuclear.

Vickie raised her head and smiled when Steve knocked on her door.

“Nichole said it was okay to just come in,” he said with a smile.

“And Nichole would be correct,” she said indicating the chairs in front of her, “have a seat. Tell me all about your lovely vacation. Thank you for sending me pictures by the way, it helped me and my team keep up on all the goings on and keep fan reactions to a minimum.”

“You’re welcome!” Steve said brightly, closing the door behind him. “So this is about the pictures, actually.”

“Oh?” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Do tell.”

So Steve did.

At the end of his explanation and question Vickie grinned. “I think that’s a beautiful way to do it. I’ll make sure she’s served before you send out the message and you’re all good to go.”

“I have an idea on who should serve her, too,” he said, grinning back at her.

“If you’re thinking of who I’m thinking of,” she said slyly, “then it’ll be perfect.”

Steve just smiled.

~

There was a knock on the door and Nancy went up to get it. She had just finished applying for schools to change her career from being an agent to a journalist. The thought of really getting to the heart of a story like she had on the school newspaper all those years ago, really lit something in her.

She opened the door and there was a short man with thick, wire glasses and a sneering grin.

“Wait, you’re Murray Bauman, right?” she asked. “Had I know you were coming I would have opened a bottle of wine to commiserate with. Both of us having been discarded like trash when Corroded Coffin was done with us.”

Murray shrugged. “It was time. I needed the push to retire. Got myself a lovely little cottage in Greece now.”

She blinked at him for a moment. “Then why are you here?”

“This!” He handed her a large manilla envelope and waved goodbye.

Inside was a cease and desist as well as a notification that she may have violated an NDA.

“Shit.”

There was another paper in the envelope and when she pulled it out, her heart sank. She slumped against the wall and let the picture fall to the floor. It was a picture of the London Eye in the background with Chrissy and Robin on one side and Steve and Eddie on the other and in the middle smiling up at the camera, clearly taken by someone else, was Murray Bauman.

~

Steve and Eddie were snuggled up on Steve’s bed, Eddie curled around Steve.

Steve hit send and put the phone down to wrap his arms around Eddie. “There. All posted across all social media. I’ve put us both on mute and Vickie is going to handle the next forty-eight hours.”

“I wish I could have seen her face when she saw the picture,” Eddie huffed with a grin.

“Me, too.”

Steve’s phone lit up once to confirm the post of: “Traveling with a rockstar is like playing hide and seek with fans. How many of you saw him but didn’t realize you were standing next to Eddie Munson?! Also, to the 'fan' who outed us in Boston, we know who you are and an NDA maaaayyyy have been violated. You'll speak to our lawyers soon! ���

Eddie and Steve soon drifted off to sleep, content with their lives.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

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10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[whencyclopedia]

Leo Africanus

Leo Africanus (al-Hasan ibn Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-Wazzan al-Fasi al-Granati, 1485-1554) was a diplomat, merchant traveller and scholar who famously voyaged from Timbuktu to the Niger River and wrote 'The History and Description of Africa' (La Descrittione dell'Africa, 1526). Captured by Mediterranean pirates, he so impressed them with his learning and linguistic ability, that they gifted him as a slave to Pope Leo X (1498 -1526).

Leo Africanus was born into a family of clerics and accountants to the court of the Nasrid Dynasty (1238-1492) of Granada during the last days of their rule over the Emirate of Granada. Hasan was baptised Johannes Leo Africanus, and known in Italian as Giovanni Leone. He trained as an Islamic scholar and became a diplomat, travelling across West Africa, from Cairo and Aswan across to the Hejaz and Syria. It was during his return journey from Egypt that he was kidnapped by Mediterranean Christian pirates and ended up becoming a slave to the Vatican Pope Leo X (born Giovanni de’ Medici). Pope Leo X offered Hasan his freedom on condition that he converted to Christianity.

Leo Africanus' scholarship and translations from Arabic inspired early modern ideas of Africa and the Islamic world. His work Descrittione dell'Africa became a blueprint for European explorers seeking to monopolise trade and resources from the African subcontinent. Some historians believe that William Shakespeare’s (1564-1616) Othello is based on Leo Africanus. Descrittione dell'Africa was widely read in Europe. It became an important resource and guidebook on Africa, until the European colonisation during the 19th century.

Hasan al-Wazzan

Hasan al-Wazzan’s father, Ahmad al-Wazzan was a cleric in the court of Abu Abdallah Muhammad XII (c. 1460–1533), known in Europe as Boabdil. Hasan’s forbearers worked as aids to the court muhtasib of Granada – a magistrate who oversaw merchant trade and accounts, while also upholding morality and decorum in the public sphere. Hasan grew up alongside his father and grandfather under the influence of the Nasrid court. As a child, he spoke Arabic at home and Spanish in the streets.

Leo Africanus as Shakespeare's Othello

Théodore Chassériau (Public Domain)

In 1492, after a decade long war, Boabdil surrendered Granada to the Spanish Catholic monarchs Isabella I of Castile (1451-1504) and Ferdinand II, King of Aragon (1452 –1516), marking the end of 700 years of Muslim rule. Hasan’s family may have left Granada before 1492, or they could have stayed until the Reconquista. Hasan was a young child when his family, like many Andalusian migrants, fled persecution under the new Christian monarchs, crossing the Mediterranean to settle in Fez. Luckily Hasan’s family was well connected thanks to his uncle, already settled in Fez, who was a diplomat to the Wattasid rulers, serving Sultan Muhammad al-Shaykh (1490-1557). Consequently, they secured a home in a prominent quarter of Fez. His father purchased land north of the Rif Mountains and rented a castle above Fez. Other emigrant families from Granada however struggled greatly in Fez and complained publicly.

Continue reading...

[aroaessidhe]

An employee within the marketing department of Wednesday Books, an imprint of St Martins Press, which is an imprint of Macmillan, has made numerous posts with racist and Islamophobic rhetoric amid the genocide of Palestinians, and the publisher has been silent for months. This employee is also in charge of sending arcs to influencers, and a number of people have noticed a pattern of Arab and Muslim readers not receiving arcs, which is potentially related.

Readers are asking for the publisher to address and denounce the racist remarks from the employee and offer tangible steps for how they are going to mitigate the harm, and until they do so we are boycotting St Martins Press and its imprints: Wednesday Books, Griffin, Minotaur, Castle Point Books, Thomas Dunne Books, and SMP Swerve.

This means not posting about or reviewing these books, though you can still buy and read them.

And more recently, and the reason for my specific post today, sign the petition to make clear the number of community members who are demanding action!

If you want to use a US zip code, why not use 10271 - where the SMP Marketing Department is.

You can find more info/updates at readersforaccountability

[spacebaby1]

Can you do sukuna x Muslim reader? Where he is going through a hard time and she prayers for him(Arrange marriage but sweet kinda of relationship) it's okay if you don't want to write it. Love your writing:)

Yes! Omg I'd love to! Hope you like it!

It was an arranged marriage between you and you father's friends eldest son; Sukuna. You were having dinner one day with your parents and your dad had asked you if you'd be interested in an marriage with a nice man. You blinked at that question and shrugged, "I mean as long as you know he's a nice man I guess it's not bad in meeting him," you replied with a small smile.

After a week both your families decided to go out for dinner at a fancy restaurant and you saw him for the first time; he was not a talkative type, he was a gentleman and very well-known for his devotion to his work and family. You both talked then and there; he was charming not once he said something to make you mad or upset. He was very soft spoken to you. Your father had informed you after that dinner that Sukuna agreed to the wedding and he also said that if you reject him he'll understand and it's not pressure on your side to agree but you already decided that wanted to marry him; he was nice, gentleman and respectful and every other person that knew him said kind things about him.

Once you both agreed to get married Sukuna had texted you asking about what are your requirements for the wedding venue, cake, dress and everything else to which he also added that you shouldn't look at the price of anything; whatever your heart desires he'll agree to it. He wanted you to be happy, as of that didn’t already captured your heart, you both picked everything for the wedding together; nothing extravagant but very classy wedding with few of your friends and families.

Sukuna had bought you a home and it was not less than a castle; after the wedding he still spoiled you with gifts, and handed you all his credit cards to buy whatever you need. However you'd refuse to use his money on random things even though he said his money is your money from now on. He's been nothing but kind to you but also a bit shy some might say cold hearted; but he just didn't want you to fell uncomfortable around him. He'd often walk past a room and see you praying and would just stand at the doorframe to watch you and leaving before you see him.

One of the days he had a rough day, nothing seems to be in his favour that day, his meeting ended badly, the clients were complaining about some services and few stakeholders were arguing about something in the company. He got home with a heavy headache and saw the hot dinner you prepared for him, you entered the room and saw him, with a smile you took his bag and coat greeting him, "how was your day?" You asked and he just smiled not trying to bother you with his bad day, "it was good, I'm hungry." You nodded "come, let's eat, I made your favorite today." He was very grateful to have you at this moment, he ate his dinner and showered before going to sleep with a headache. Unfortunately the headache caught up to his sleep and he woke up in the middle of the night to find you not in bed, rubbing his temple he got up knowing where you are; in the prayer room.

Unlike everyday he didn't just stand by the doorframe to watch you pray. You werr done praying when you started to say the dua, "Dear God, thank you for all the blessings you gave me, thank you for the health and thank you the most for sending me such an amazing husband. He's very kind to me and caring towards me, I pray you bless him with health and well-being and a long life where we can be together always and honour each other, I really appreciate and," you paused with a smile, "I love him so much, I just wish he'd be less shy," you chuckled before continuing, "please God , keep him happy and safe, Ameen." Sukuna felt his heart melt at your words, he waited few minutes before knocking and walking in the room, you turned to smile at him as he took the seat beside you on your prayer mat. "Did I wake you up? I apo-" He cut your sentence short by placing his head on your shoulder as he sat beside you, "I've been feeling down all day, I had a very bad day-" he couldn't speak further without tearing down and you immediately wrapped your arms around him protectively so did he, holding you for dear life as he spoke and cried while you rubbed his back, "I don't know what to do, I want to just hide away and do n-nothing I'm just so so tired from today, I- I promise I'm not l-like this always b-but-"

"You have been working so hard lately, you need to rest, Husband," you softly spoke gently caressing his pink hair with your soft hands, "please, can you take few days off of work? You need to rest, it's not good to work and feel such pressure. Can you?" He nodded in you embrace, "y-yes I can take few days off." He slowly removed himself from your embrace chuckling as he whipped his nose and you whipped his tears with the end of your hijab before he placed his head on your lap and taking your hand and placing it on his forehead, "Sweetheart, would you please pray for me everyday?" He asked and you smiled down at him as you gently massaged his head, "with my whole heart, Husband." He blushed.

"Call me by my name," he chuckled, Now it was your turn to blush, "No!" You replied, and he chuckled, taking your other hand and placing his on his chest, "come on, just once, say my name." You rolled your eyes and spoke, "Sukuna." He blinked at you, "Again? Please?" He asked this time softly, and you tried hard to hide your smirk as you called his name, still massaging his head, "are you feeling better now? Sukuna?" He smiled and nodded eagerly, then closing his eyes, letting you massage his head some more.

[paganimagevault]

Statue found near Penjikent, possibly depicting Sogdian King Devashtish or a deity 7th-8th C. CE.

"Divashtich (also spelled Devashtich, Dewashtich, and Divasti), was a medieval Sogdian ruler in Transoxiana during the period of the Muslim conquest of Transoxiana. He was the ruler of Panjikant and its surroundings from ca. 706 until his downfall and execution in the autumn of 722.

Divashtich was the son of a certain Yodkhsetak, who belonged to a noble Sogdian dehqan family from Samarkand, which could trace its descent back to the Sasanian king Bahram V Gur (r. 420–438). The family bore the title of sur and began ruling parts of Sogdia during the 6th century. There were five members of the family bearing the title of sur, Divashtich being the last of them.

In 720, Divashtich, along with another Sogdian ruler named Karzanj, are mentioned as the leaders of an anti-Arab rebellion in Sogdia. They managed to earn the allegiance of at-Tar, the Sogdian ruler of Farghana, who promised to give them protection in case their rebellion turned into a failure. While the army of Karzanj was staying at Khujand, at-Tar betrayed him, and told the Umayyad general Sa'id ibn Amr al-Harashi where Karzanj and his army was stationing. Al-Harashi quickly marched towards Khujand, where he defeated the army of Karzanj, brutally massacring over 3,000 Sogdian inhabitants in the city.

Al-Harashi then left for Zarafshan, the location of Divashtich. A battle shortly took place near the city in 722, where al-Harashi managed to emerge victorious once again. Divashtich then fled to a fortress near Zarafshan, but eventually agreed to surrender to Arabs, and was taken prisoner, where he was treated well. The Arabs then began burning several houses and a temple in Panjikant.

The Umayyad governor of Iraq, including other high officials, wanted to set Divashtich free. Al-Harashi, however, had Divashtich crucified on a Zoroastrian burial building, and sent his head to Iraq.

Archaeologists have found evidence that Panjakent was founded around 400 AD. The town of Panjikent grew during the Hephthalite period, its fortifications were strengthened and temples were rebuilt. The city itself did not long outlive its last ruler. Consisting of a fortified castle of the ruler (kuhendiz, or citadel), the city itself (shahristan), surrounded by a fortress wall with numerous towers, a suburban settlement (rabad) and a large necropolis, with separate small crypts - nauses, in which there were assuaries (small clay boxes) with the remains of the dead, Penjikent ceased to exist after the death of Divashtich, and the inhabitants left it."

-taken from IranicaOnline, UNESCO, Wikipedia, and DCAT

[thefudge]

If I may dare ask what are your favourite romance novels?????

this will sound obnoxious, but i tend to love romance best when i encounter it in other genres (and i could definitely make a list of novels from different genres where the romance isn't the point but it goes so hard for me, and i think i have made some lists like that in the past? i really have to organize my books/book recs/book rec tags. and maybe make more lists)

but if we're going by novels that are considered and (could be) classified as romance, here's an imperfect list:

all of austen of course, but especially pride and prejudice and persuasion

jane eyre by charlotte bronte

the age of innocence by edith wharton

anna karenina by tolstoy (where i think i'm fonder of the kitty/levin pairing)

doctor zhivago by boris pasternak

gone with the wind by margaret mitchell (hate/love relationship but i am not immune to it, i'm afraid! i will say i prefer the book to the movie)

excellent women by barbara pym (god, i love the grumpy hero/heroine pairing here)

bridget jones's diary (the first book especially)

girl with a pearl earring by tracy chevalier (the movie too! colin firth and scarlett johansson had such good chemistry, it was surreal)

the blue castle by l.m. montgomery (love that we have a genuine "plain jane" heroine that doesn't turn out to be beautiful if she lets down her hair or any of that nonsense)

the french lieutenant's woman by john fowles (a postmodern romance, in many ways, but the yearning is so good)

spring snow by yukio mishima (i do think this is a romance, first and foremost, and my goddd, the angst and the yearning)

eligible by curtis sittenfeld (a modern p&p retelling; i know a lot of ppl hate this one but i really like it, though it could have been shorter. some of the lizzy/darcy moments in this book made my brain go brrr. the humor is great too)

sofia khan is not obliged (but just the first book in this series - another fun p&p retelling with a muslim heroine)

conversations with friends by sally rooney (i promised i wouldn't stretch the genre but this to me read as more of a romance than anything. and though i struggled with some parts of this book, i will admit that the affair between frances and nick did get to me. there were some particular sex scenes where rooney was doing what i like with the smut in terms of revelation and vulnerability)

the princess diarist by carrie fisher (okay, i'm doing it again, this is technically classified as memoir but again, the sections about harrison ford?? INSANE in terms of romantic anguish and angst. theee RPF of all time)

who's that girl by mhairi mcfarlane (some scenes in this book literally made my heart skip a beat?? this is a celeb/journalist romance that really worked for me. mcfarlane doesn't always strike the right chord with me but here, omgg. i hated her a bit for that ending, but some of the moments between the hero and heroine made me kick my feet like a lil kid)

birthday girl by penelope douglas (i don't know if i'd call this favorite, but it did the age gap thing right, while also being hot and well-written. it didn't toootally win me over, but i appreciate it when an author takes the "fell for my boyfriend's dad" trope seriously)

[sjsmith56]

The Flame Burns From Within, Part 1 - Negotiations

Summary: The arrival of three strangers at the castle of Ser Anthony of House Stark, signals the start of negotiations for the hand of his niece, Lady Arden Worth.

Length: 5.2 K

Characters: Lady Arden (OFC, described), Lord James Barnes, Ser Anthony Stark, Lady Stark, His Highness, the Duke of Long Isle, Steven Rogers, Ser Samuel Wilson.

Warnings: Age gap (OFC is 21 while Lord Barnes is 32. She would be considered old for her first marriage during this time period). Description of the status of women in the 15th century as property, description of the death of Lady Arden’s parents, arranged marriage.

Author notes: Set in the 15th century AU where America is a sovereign kingdom. Spain has only recently returned to Catholic control after some time of being a part of the Moors empire (they were Islamic). It would take some time for the remaining Muslims to leave or convert to Catholicism. AI image in banner created by author using MS Copilot app in Designer mode. Borders found at vecteezy.com.

Part 1 - Negotiations

Lady Arden

The gates to the courtyard opened and the delegation from the Citadel were welcomed into the keep of my uncle's castle. I watched their arrival from the window of my chambers, as my presence wouldn't be needed until later, after the three men who rode in were formally welcomed by my uncle and legal guardian, Ser Anthony of House Stark. Ever since my parents died of the wasting disease when I was still a child, he had overseen my preparation for life as the lady of a great lord. Unlike some of the fathers and guardians of other young women of my ilk, he had been rather progressive towards my education. Where others had been taught to walk and speak with grace, while learning the arts of needlework, music and art, my uncle had made sure I could do all of those, plus ride a horse, handle a sword, learn foreign languages, read and write more than just my name, and above all else, to carry myself as one who was as capable as any man. It was certainly not the usual life of a young woman.

My uncle had his reasons for my unusual upbringing; some of which he shared with me. Where other young women of my stature were being married off to whomever was politically in favour, in addition to receiving a generous dowry, my uncle was more interested in a particular man to become my husband. Lord James Barnes of the Citadel was his goal; a consummate warrior, well educated, able to speak several languages due to his travels, and the most powerful lord of our region. He had already been sought as husband for any number of simpering brides that didn't interest him. Rumours circulated by the unsuccessful families seeking to install their daughters as his lady said that he was a lover of men, or was damaged in body and spirit by his travels in dangerous lands, but my uncle had heard through unofficial sources that he preferred an accomplished woman to become his consort, as he saw value in intelligence above all else. By promoting my unconventional education, my uncle was certain that word of me would eventually reach the ears of those at the Citadel whose task it was to find a suitable mate for the great lord. That day had finally come.

That's not to say there weren't bumps in the road to this occasion. There are always men who want what they see as different or even exotic. Before I turned 14 my uncle was being offered great wealth for the promise of an engagement with any number of eligible sons. Several great houses in our land, Walker, Rumlow, Pierce, even Dreykov in the Russian region far to the east across the sea, had amped up the pressure for my uncle to accept one of their own as my future husband, but he wouldn't even entertain the offers that came over the years. It was some time before he shared that his goal was to align his house with the Citadel, and nothing less would interest him.

As I approached my 21st birthday, an age considered old for marriage, rumours began of my own shortcomings as a prospective bride. It was said I was vain, unattractive, too heavy, too thin, too unhealthy, defective in mind and spirit, even that I was barren due to the wasting disease that had killed my parents but had spared me. Knowing I was none of those, I always held my head high. At public occasions I was visible, open, and friendly with those around me. I acted as I had been taught; that I had a place in society, and it would be one of influence no matter if I were the wife of a great lord or not.

Thus, the arrival of the three men from the Citadel on that cool autumn afternoon was proof that my uncle had properly read the situation. It was clear that I was of interest to the most powerful lord, seen as an important counsellor for the next king himself. As the three men dismounted, they stood in their travelling cloaks, heads still covered, removing their gloves and, in the way of men of action, taking note of their surroundings. I could see that they assessed the guard complement in the keep, while searching the walls of the castle itself to see if their arrival had been noted. That is when one of them pulled his hood back, revealing a bearded man of dark-hair and eyes of blue like the ocean. He made eye contact with me from his place in the courtyard. A hint of a smile crossed his face then I stepped away from the window when he turned to his companions. His looks matched the description of Lord Barnes, but it was unusual for the head of a great house to personally attend the negotiations for a marriage. Until I was summoned for dinner, I wouldn't find out who he actually was.

My aunt, a strong and confident woman in her own right, sought entry to my chambers shortly after the arrival of the three men. She entered with a complement of maidservants, intent on preparing and dressing me in a way that emphasized my best features. With my tall build and red hair, that I was born with, the colour of which had only deepened over the years of my existence, there wasn't much else to be done to make me more visible. I had drawn attention from many sources my whole life. Even my name, Arden, was different as it meant "little and fiery." Although I was no longer little, I was often referred to as the Flame of the Forest, for I usually took my daily ride there with my hair unencumbered by coverings.

After much fussing over the various dresses, they chose a blue one, trimmed with lace and a brocade border. Its full sleeves ended at a wide brocade cuff. My hair, left long, was brushed until it gleamed, then a portion was twisted and fastened at the back of my head. My colouring was usually high, so no additional applications of powder, charcoal or berries were needed to accentuate my features. By all the accounts of my uncle's inquiries, Lord Barnes was known to prefer a natural appearance. Regardless, as my aunt regarded my appearance she smiled in approval.

"If they don't acknowledge your physical appearance, they are blind," she said, with authority. "You are a vision, Arden."

"Did you see their arrival?" I asked. "There were three and one fit Lord Barnes' description."

"Yes, but I was not presented to them when they entered so I cannot confirm that gentleman was him," she answered. "I will be presented to them in the great hall then you will be sent for."

"May I wait in the library?"

It was my favourite place in the castle. When my uncle first discovered me in there after taking me into his care, he could have sent me away but apparently, I offered him a book and asked that he read it to me. Seeing the title, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, my uncle took it as a sign of my innate intelligence and determined then that I would be educated in the same manner as any young man of high standing. In that sanctuary, I spent many hours reading of far-off lands, great heroes, and tragic loves.

With my aunt's approval, I relocated to the library and pulled out the copy of The Canterbury Tales, one of less than a hundred in existence according to the Bishop, as they were hand lettered and illuminated by monks who spent weeks or even months creating them. The time and effort it took to create a book meant the possession of more than a handful was a sign of great wealth. Our library had hundreds. This book was a favourite of mine and I sat down at a table in the late afternoon sun. I had only been there a brief time when I heard the door open. Assuming it was my aunt, I closed the book and stood up to return it to its proper place. Instead, it was the dark-haired man who entered, dressed in richly brocaded clothing. At his discovery of my presence, he bowed his head briefly.

"I beg your pardon, my Lady." He spoke in a voice that was deep and rich. "Ser Anthony did not say anyone would be in here."

I curtsied to acknowledge him. "He was unaware of my presence here," I answered. "I sought some comfort from Chaucer."

He approached and extended his hand to receive the book, looking fondly at the title.

"Which one is your favourite?" he asked.

"The Wife of Bath's Tale, of course," I smiled then spoke freely. "I have been raised to believe that I am equal to any man but not all men believe the same. It is my hope to be blessed with a husband who freely gives me my sovereignty."

He smiled warmly. "It is one that I enjoy reading as well, although I am not meek, or submissive. I take it that you are the Lady Arden. I am James Barnes, Lord of the Citadel. I am at your service, my Lady. It was you in the window overlooking the courtyard, was it not?"

"It was, sir," I replied. "I was curious about you accompanying your courtiers for the negotiations. That is why you are here, is it not?"

He seemed amused. "You are correct that my travelling companions will undertake the negotiations on my behalf. I accompanied them to meet the Flame of the Forest herself. Word of your beauty has travelled far and contrary to the rumours which swirl around us both, I am pleased to find that the positive reports are quite true." He opened the book and glanced inside. "Your education appears to be superior to other women of your status if you find comfort in a library. Your skills on a horse and with a sword are also based on truth, according to my sources."

I could have been elevated by his declarations, but I wasn't, not completely. Even though it was proof of my uncle's contention that I would be of interest to this handsome and powerful man, there was still a part of me that remained wary. At that moment, the door opened, and a servant announced to Lord Barnes that Ser Anthony wished to present his wife and niece. He then announced that I was to present myself in the Great Hall. Looking at the shelf, Barnes immediately spotted the place where the book belonged and returned it to its spot. Then he bowed graciously to me and left. With a breath to calm myself I exited the space and stood at the top of the stairs for a moment before descending.

Lord Barnes was already at the bottom of the large staircase, with his travelling companions, a man with dark blond hair and a darker beard, and a man of Moorish descent, both dressed as he was, in fine clothing as befit their stations. Although I didn't know who the blond man was, the other was well known as one befriended by Barnes on his journeys in the Spanish peninsula. Taking the Christian name of Samuel Wilson, he had become famous throughout our kingdom for his chivalry. All three men watched me closely as I descended alone down the great stone staircase, no doubt to assess the grace of my movements. As the wife of a powerful lord, I would constantly be looked upon as a symbol of his house. My comportment would be seen as either a benefit to his stature or a hindrance to it. When I reached the bottom, my uncle smiled and extended his hand to me.

"May I present my niece, Lady Arden Worth," he said simply. "Lady Arden, may I introduce you to Lord James Barnes, of the Citadel, his Highness, Steven Rogers, the Duke of Long Isle, and their trusted friend, Ser Samuel Wilson."

The blond man was Steven Rogers, the Duke, grandson of the king and third in line for the throne. No wonder Barnes seemed amused when I described him as a courtier. That alone required a deeper curtsy than what I gave Lord Barnes in the library.

"My Lady," said Barnes, taking my hand to raise me from my lowered position. "The Duke is here as my closest friend and has agreed to act as a negotiator for the marriage arrangement. May I escort you to the dining hall?"

To refuse would have been considered rude so I placed my hand on his forearm and allowed him to lead me to the dining hall. The Duke escorted my aunt, which was puzzling, since he should have led us all, considering he was of the higher echelon of nobility. My uncle and Ser Samuel brought up the rear of the party. Footmen pulled our chairs out, then assisted in pushing them closer to the table as we settled. I noticed the arrangement of cutlery in our places, a knife and fork, specifically. Although I had been exposed to using them it was still surprising as most of the nobility thought that forks were an affectation of the Italians; a sign of hubris that they were too proud to dirty their fingers as they ate. In our nation most of the nobility dispensed with any utensils, other than using a knife to spear a portion of fowl, or roast, then bite into it with their teeth and allow the juices to run over their faces and onto their clothing. It was obvious by how our guests used their utensils to cut the meat into smaller bites, that they were well used to eating in the new fashion.

"You were successful in finding my library, Lord Barnes?" asked my uncle.

"I was Ser Anthony," he replied. "A fine library at that. You must spend many pleasant hours there."

"When I have the time. Lady Arden is there often. She has likely read everything in there at least once, even the texts in French or Latin."

"Is that true?" he asked me in French. "You are fluent in those two languages?"

I answered him in French. "Yes, in Spanish and Italian, also. My uncle invested a lot of money in language tutors."

He said nothing about our meeting in the library, but he looked at my uncle with a degree of surprise and approval. Apparently, four additional languages were more than he was expecting. The look exchanged between Lord Barnes, the Duke, and Ser Samuel was subtle but telling. I had the feeling that even with the reports they had commissioned about my attributes I was still something of a mystery.

After dinner, my uncle disappeared into the library with the Duke and Ser Samuel with the intent of beginning the negotiations. My aunt went up to help settle my cousins for bed. That left me and Lord Barnes alone.

"Is there a garden where we can walk before it gets dark?"

"There is."

I led him out to the formal gardens, walking along the gravelled path between the displays of hyacinths and mums which were still blooming. The trees, which were casting off their green colour, were displaying some yellow, red, and orange hues. As the sun approached the horizon, the golden light it projected lent a soft glow to everything. We stopped at a pond briefly, then the wind came up and I shivered. Although it had warmed slightly since Lord Barnes arrival, I wore only a shawl over my dress, not enough to stay warm as it darkened.

"We should return to the castle," he said. "I wouldn't want you to catch a chill on my account."

"As you wish, my Lord," I answered, mindful of his superior status. "There is a small conservatory in the castle, with a fireplace where we can keep warm and still enjoy the plants around us."

He agreed to go there and by the time we arrived a fire had been lit, and a tray with a decanter of wine and two metal goblets were on a table. As I sat, he poured out some for each of us, then joined me on a padded bench built into the wall near the fireplace.

"To your good health," he said, before sipping his drink

"And to yours," I replied, sipping my own. "You know this is unusual. Allowing us to be alone."

"I requested it. Too many of my peers have arranged their marriages through intermediaries without meeting until the wedding day. Both parties experienced disappointment more often than not. I vowed never to make that mistake." He gazed steadily at me. "If there is anything you wish to ask me, I am open to your inquiries."

"Where have you travelled?" It was something I was genuinely interested in, having never left the country myself.

"I have been as far east as Greece, to the northern shore of Africa, Italy, Spain, France and Brittania. There have been journeys north of our kingdom, but it is still mostly wilderness and those who have lived there for eons are not the friendliest, with reason considering how our ancestors first treated them. The Northmen still have settlements there and have a truce with the original inhabitants. We do have trading relationships with the Northmen, as you know. Most of my travels was accompanying the Duke as his Majesty desired to know those who have the closest relationships with our country. We met Ser Samuel in the portion of Spain that had recently thrown off Moorish control. He agreed to stay with us as we found each other's company engaging. Since his Arabic name of Saqr Sama Allayl or Falcon of the Night Sky, was often mispronounced by those who were unfamiliar saying it, he asked for a Christian name to go by while he travelled our lands. The name Samuel in Arabic means prophet and seer. Wilson was suggested as a common last name. It has made his travels here easier. When he returns ... if he returns, he will revert to his given name."

There was a lot of information in his answer, but he obviously found value in knowing about the people in other realms. Placing his goblet down, he picked up the poker and adjusted the wood in the fireplace, as if he were used to taking care of such things himself. He sat next to me again.

"Have you travelled?"

"Alas, no, although I have read many accounts of different journeys, such as those of Marco Polo, The Travels of John Mandeville, and others. I have great admiration for the women who journeyed with Eleanor of Aquitaine to the Holy Lands. I wish someone had thought to document their journey."

"As my wife I would request that you accompany me on my travels," he mentioned. "It would be your choice but the alternative would be spending a significant amount of time apart, which is not conducive to marital harmony."

"What about children? Travelling with an infant would be an issue, wouldn't it?"

"Depends on the destination."

We were quiet again, with only the crackle of the fire to listen to. When the moon's glow appeared through the window, Lord Barnes stood up and turned to me.

"I believe I will retire now. May I request the honour of riding with you tomorrow?"

I stood up. "Of course. I usually ride in the morning an hour after breakfast. If that is acceptable to you."

"It is."

He bowed to me and left, leaving me puzzled to his sudden and arbitrary departure. My aunt arrived shortly after, and we returned to my chambers where she questioned me on what Lord Barnes and I spoke about.

Lord Barnes

As I walked to my chambers, I reflected on the time spent with Lady Arden. Her beauty was unmatched by any other woman I had ever seen. How Ser Anthony had managed to keep her isolated enough to avoid a kidnapping and forced marriage I will never know but it was imperative that we formalize our marriage as soon as possible. Since I first glimpsed her in the window, then spoke with her in the library, I had been unable to think rationally of anything or anyone else. Steven and Samuel were already in my chambers on my arrival, having ceased the negotiations at moonrise, which prompted my departure from the conservatory. They both turned to me as I entered and bolted the door, then checked the hidden passageway for listening servants. Steven handed me a goblet of wine.

"Well?" I looked at both expectantly. Steven answered.

"She is the only survivor of the House of Forrest. Ser Anthony confirmed it. She was brought to him by the housekeeper of the House Forrest, after they were attacked by the forces of House Pierce. Of course, they were not wearing the insignia, but she recognized several faces as Pierce's men. Lady Forrest pressed her daughter into the care of that woman, and they escaped via a secret passage that let them out a mile away. Even in the passageway she could hear as Pierce's men slaughtered the entire family. You know he would have taken her to keep for one of his sons, or his nephews and cement his acquisition of their lands."

"It was he who said he made a social call the following day and found the family dead of the wasting disease. Then he burned their castle to purify it and took their lands for himself, although he calls it a stewardship until the missing heir is found." I was angry at such villainy. "She doesn't know the truth, does she?"

"No, upon the housekeeper's arrival, Stark swore her to secrecy and claimed the child was his orphaned niece. She believes she is the daughter of his sister, Lady Worth and Ser Louis of House Worth from a sudden bout of the wasting disease. His position as godfather to Lady Arden guided him in her upbringing. It was her father's wish she be given every opportunity to be as educated as well as possible. He is aware of the betrothal document which is why he indicated his preference for your favour. That was late in being made known as he was under the impression for some time that you were aligned with House Pierce."

I looked at Samuel for his opinion. "That is understandable. You feel his vow of fealty to House Barnes is now honestly offered?"

"I do. Ser Anthony is a rare individual. He is a man of truth and honour, and both he and Lady Stark love the young woman as much as one of their own. His dowry request is for her benefit, not his, so that she is independently wealthy in the event of your death. Otherwise, he only requests an alliance with the Citadel. It may be that he fears reprisals if Pierce realizes the true identity of Lady Arden so would require the strength of your garrison to protect him and his family."

"Accept his terms. We'll read the banns as soon as possible, then I will apply for a marriage license so that the normal time period can be waived. As soon as it is approved, I will send for her to come to the Citadel for the marriage ceremony. With luck, we can be married after a fortnight. If there are any objections, then I can produce the original betrothal contract between our parents."

Steven placed a hand on my arm. "It will come to pass, Buck. I have faith."

"I hope you're right," I replied, draining my goblet. "Now that I have seen her, I cannot think of ever marrying another woman. By the way, we're going riding tomorrow, so we'll have to stay another night since you'll be engaged in negotiations during the day."

"Alone?" Steven and Samuel smirked at each other. "Is that wise?"

"We were alone this evening when we walked in the garden and when we sat in the conservatory, drinking wine. I'm a changed man. No more brothels or courtesans for me. A woman of her quality deserves a husband who will remain steadfast and faithful. It is my intention to be that type of husband for her."

"If you say so," remarked Steven, draining his wine. "Come Samuel, let's leave Lord Barnes to have sweet dreams of the Lady Arden."

I gave him a rude gesture then locked the door behind them. As I disrobed, I felt encouraged by their report. When our spy in Pierce's castle brought us proof of his part in the death of Lady Arden's parents, I knew the day was coming for the man's part in many similar incidents. He amassed his wealth and power by undermining the rule of law we were all supposed to live under. Even if it wasn't his men who performed all his suspected crimes, his alliances with the Walker and Rumlow houses meant he had them as his accomplices and co-conspirators. With his end game believed to be an attempt on the throne, we needed to be careful not to tip our hand too soon.

The following morning, we took breakfast with the Stark family, and I met the younger children, three daughters. The oldest was dark, like her father, while the other two resembled their mother with their fairer features. They were very well behaved, and I observed Lady Arden's interaction with them, curious about her suitability as a mother. They seemed fond of each other, and it was obvious that they were also being raised in the same manner as Lady Arden had been, for they spoke extensively of stories they wrote for each other's pleasure. They spoke French and Italian easily, making each other laugh. Their commentary was enjoyable, even bringing grins to Steven and Samuel's faces. The oldest child, Morgan, dared to ask Samuel about his childhood in Spain, then listened with rapt attention as he told her about his first time hunting with a falcon under his control.

When the meal was finished, Ser Anthony and my two friends repaired to the library to continue the marriage negotiations. Lady Arden excused herself to prepare for her daily horseback ride, agreeing to meet me in the courtyard of the keep. With the order given to prepare both of our horses I returned to my chambers to change into something more suitable for riding. I went out to check my horse, and found the care given to Soldier since our arrival the day before was exemplary. His coat gleamed in the warm sunlight. As always, he greeted me with affection, brushing his head against mine, then searching for the apple I usually gave him. The stable master offered me one and I broke it in two, feeding the pieces to him separately.

"He is a fine stallion," said Lady Arden's voice, behind me. "It is rare to find a fully black horse without a white patch somewhere on his body. Have you bred him yet?"

"Aye, he has sired a dozen foals in the past two years," I answered, before turning to look at her. For a moment, no words came out of my mouth as I took in what she was wearing. "This is your usual riding attire?"

She grinned and looked down at the short knee length skirt, and knee-high leather boots she wore. On her upper body she wore a tunic under a jacket that was styled in the same manner as a man's. It was scandalous but it also allowed her to have greater control over her horse. Her hair was loose and flowing down her back, brilliant in its colour that reminded me of a sunset or a smouldering flame.

"Do you disapprove?" she asked, almost daring me to forbid her from leaving the keep.

"No, it suits you," I answered, truthfully. I gestured to her horse, a beautiful grey mare. "Do you require assistance to get on?"

"A hand up, please," she answered.

Lacing my hands together, I boosted her up after she put her boot into them. She easily mounted the rest of the way, and I realized the many folds of her skirt hid the fact they were cut like trousers. It gave her as much control over her horse as a man would have. I mounted my horse and signalled to her to lead the way. With a nod to the stable master, we left the keep and began with an easy canter towards a wooded area. She slowed up once we were well out of eyesight. Looking back at me, she waited for me to ride beside her.

"You go out on your own?" I asked. "Are you not afraid of being accosted?"

"I can defend myself," she answered, then reached into her boot and pulled out a long knife, flipping it over in her hand before reinserting it. "Minerva is fast and can outrun almost any horse in the area."

I wondered if she would be so unconcerned with her personal safety if she knew who she really was, but it wouldn't be my place to tell her until we were married, so I kept my observation to myself. As we rode, I took time to scan our surroundings. It was evident why she chose this area. There were many trees already covered in the finery of autumn. The reds, golds, and oranges were everywhere. Whenever a breeze came up, we were showered with the leaves pulled from the branches. It was peaceful and, in her company, I found myself relaxing just enough to forget the affairs of state.

At one point, she glanced at me then nudged her horse into a gallop. I watched with admiration as her hair flew behind her, proving the moniker Flame of the Forest. She was beautiful and magnificent, and if I had my way, she would be my wife in just over a fortnight. Perhaps, just perhaps, she would be safe from those who wanted her for their own purposes.

Note about The Wife of Bath’s Tale. It recounts the story of a knight who is accused of rape. He is given a year to find out what it is women most desire, in order to spare his life. An old crone says she will tell him if he agrees to her request. He agrees and she tells him that women desire sovereignty over their own lives more than anything. When he offers the answer to the courts he is spared and he returns to the old crone to fulfill her request. She demands that he marries her. Since he is a knight and is bound by his oath he agrees. In bed on their wedding night she asks if he would like an old ugly wife who is faithful or a beautiful one who is faithless. He leaves the decision to her, declaring himself bound to it. For his honesty and concession to her she becomes beautiful and faithful, and they live happily as husband and wife.

Saqr Sama Allayl or Falcon of the Night Sky - From Google Translate

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Time Traveller AU pt 4

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.

Part 5 is here.

Two weeks had passed since you and Baldwin had met Salauddin. As much as you tried to stay in your room to try and work on your time machine a bit, Sibylla was far too excited with the wedding preparations and was dragging you along. Even the maids were too eager to do everything, be it dressing you up or accompanying you around the castle. You suppose it was their way of trying to get in your good graces so that you'll choose them to be your court ladies. Its all politics really. The few moments that you did try to have for yourself, they'd be with Baldwin. You cant ever have meals without him, even if you were sneaky. You theorised that Baldwin probably had someone in the kitchen to inform him the moment you're having a meal made so that he can join you too (and proceed to handfeed you the first and last bite from his plate).

You decide its finally time to bring up the agenda you had in mind. "Baldwin?" You call softly, earning a surprised look from him because he's used to your admonishing tone. "Yes, princess?" he quickly closes his book, giving you his full attention.

"Do you think... it could be arranged for me to travel?" He raised a brow. "Travel? Where?"

You mustered up the courage. "Egypt."

"Egypt? Why?" Of course he was alarmed because at the time Egypt was under Muslim rule, and Salauddin was the sultan of Egypt. It was his territory and it was far too.

"Why not? I thought you said you would show me the world." You reminded him of his promise when he was trying to bribe you into marrying him.

He sighed and nodded. "That can be arranged. Come on, now." He took your hand and pulled you towards him as he moved towards the corner of his room, keeping you facing him. "I always keep my promises, princess." He whispered kissing your chin before turning you around to face the mirror.

"See? Now you've seen the world. In fact-" He spins you back to him before turning you towards the mirror again. "-ooh! Now you've seen the world twice!" He keeps on spinning you back and forth a couple of more times making you laugh before you get dizzy and lightly smack his arm.

"Be serious for once, Baldwin!" You glare at him. "Dont you get tired from your flirting attempts?"

His eyes twinkled as he cupped your face with his hands. "Never!"

With your face still in his hands, you repeated your request. "I want to go to Egypt, Baldwin." "But why? Do you want something from there? Because I can have it brought here-"

"No." You cant believe you have to manipulate him. Eh, he'll get over it. "I... I dont have a family, Baldwin. I was an orphan and well- things werent great at my orphanage, so I ran away. I wanted to find out about my family, about my parents. What happened to them. So I've been travelling here and there. I suppose thats how I developed an interest in history." You could seem his resolve melting with the way his eyes softened, so you continued on. "Please, let me go to Egypt. I think... I think I might find some clues about my family there. And if I dont..." you chuckled. "Well, I could always write something on Salauddin."

"Do you really want to go?" You nodded eagerly. He smiled. "Alright. I'll talk to Salauddin. If he gives permission, then you can go. I dont think I could accompany you there. Guy has been stirring up some problems here and I cant have him try to start a rebellion."

"Its okay, I can go alone." "Well, not alone. I'll send my best knights along." Shit. Oh well. Better them than Baldwin.

Breaking the pattern for once, you decided to initiate affection and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Baldwin!" You heard him inhale sharply, his body stilling for a moment before his arms slowly but surely wrapped around your frame, and you felt him melt into you a bit. This is psychology 101, okay? Pavlov's dog experiment, if you reward him for "good behaviour", he is more prone to be "good".

If only you knew this may have been the first time in more than a decade that he's been hugged. And now that he has... it only cements more in his mind that your hugs are his- you are his.

-

As expected, Salauddin agreed and allowed you to come to Egypt. However, Baldwin still delayed your trip by almost a week under the pretence to make "necessary arrangements for your trip".

It was just him trying to find excuses to make you stay longer, or even change your mind about leaving at all.

"You know it's going to be soooo hot in Egypt? What if you get a heat stroke?"

"I'm going with Salauddin. He's been living in the desert for so long, I'm sure he'll teach me how to protect myself from the sun."

"You- what if you get thirsty? You won't get cold water!"

You looked at him baffled. "Salauddin literally had a box of ice in the desert- he served us ice water. Did you forget? I'm beginning to think you might be suffering from a heat stroke."

He huffed. "Surely, you cant be safe in Egypt without me by your side. People will attack you for being my weakness!"

Your heart skipped a beat. I'm his weakness?

You shake your head. Not the time. "How would they even recognise me? I'd be in a niqaab! Besides, I thought you were sending your "best knights" with me." You said turning around to fold your clothes.

Baldwin's hand reached for your wrist and he pulled you back to him, your body stiffening against his hard chest. Damn, how long did he work out for? Just a few weeks ago, he couldnt even stand for long without passing out.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. "I'll miss you." He mumbled, and the corner of your mouth quirked up. "I know." You replied as you tried to break out of his arms and return to your packing. But Baldwin spun you around, his brows furrowed. "You wont miss me?" His eyes held deep concern, while his voice reminded you of a scared child.

He's adorable.

His grip on your arms tightened the longer you stayed silent. Fearing he'd change his mind about the trip, you cupped his face and brought it closer to yours, staring into his eyes.

"No." Hurt flashed through across those blue pools, but you continued. "Because the mere thought that you would be waiting here for me will make me want to return home early." His face softened.

"Home? You consider this your home?" He whispered, clearly affected by your words.

Oh, he's about to die when he hears what you've got next.

Your eyes smiled. "You're my home, Baldwin." You knew if this was an anime, then right now Baldwin would be animated with a pink background with halo behind him, and probably cupids shooting arrows and crying.

His reaction proved you right. Baldwin pulled you in for a tight hug, hiding his head into your shoulder and before you either of you could react, you both fell on your bed, though Baldwin didnt let go of you.

When he finally pulled away, he caressed your cheek with one hand. "What?" you asked with a lazy smile. He didnt say anything, just kept tracing your face with his fingers, looking at you as if he was in a trance. Considering you were leaving tomorrow, you didnt move from the bed. You didnt want to break whatever fantasy Baldwin was in (truthfully, you didnt have the heart for it. He looked like something was healing inside him.) So you stayed there next to him, letting Baldwin run his fingers though your hair and falling asleep to that.

"How did I get so lucky?" He whispered to himself, still looking at you in awe.

Baldwin didnt sleep that night. No, he wanted to memorise your face.

-

The next morning, you were sent off with a small entourage, even though Baldwin wanted to send you with a bigger one, but you reasoned with him that a large group of people would only draw more attention to you.

"Be safe, princess." Baldwin said, pressing his lips to your forehead. You smiled and nodded. "I'll be back before you know it." He gave you a lopsided smile before pulling out a pouch and placing it in your hands. It was heavy. "I have given the knight commander gold to cater to your every need, buy anything you like but- I still want you to have this. Just in case." You peeked into the pouch and your eyes bulged out at the gold coins in there. "Its too much, Baldwin. I cant take-" He cupped your cheek. "I insist. If- God forbid, things go wrong, I want you to use this to get out." You leaned into his touch. "Nothing will happen to me, Baldwin." He prays so (he and his church is praying for your safe journey). "I know, but please- keep it. For my peace of mind." You finally conceded, giving him a hug before starting your journey.

From Jerusalem, you first reached Salauddin's caravan in the desert, where the Kurdish leader was waiting for you.

"So, have you come up with a plan to leave Baldwin?" He asked, guiding you inside his tent, taking note of the niqaab you were wearing. It was the one Baldwin had helped embroirdered for you- he recognised the ugly flower on your sleeve.

"Its not a priority at the moment." You lied, deciding it wouldnt be good to reveal all your cards to him. After all, he is a conquerer. You dont know what kind of games he may be playing.

He raised a brow at you, setting up the chess board. "Then why are you going to Egypt?" He wanted to gauge your expressions, but your eyes were solely focused on the chess board as you made the first move.

"I have some matters to take care of. Personal matters." You watched him move his black pawn.

"Anything I could help with?" He asked. You took his bishop. "No, you have already helped a lot. Thank you. But I must ask- how did you just agree to Baldwin when he asked if I could go to Egypt?"

He scoffed, taking your knight. "You think I did this for free? Please, your husband had to pay a pretty penny to take his "little heaven's angel" through the desert safely. Honestly, how have you bewitched him?" Salauddin gazed at you. "Either he's too stupid or you're much smarter than you look, the latter is something I highly doubt, so it only leads to one conclusion- Baldwin is stupid." He mocked.

"Hey! Dont insult my fiance." You admonished, looking back at the board to make your next move. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table, looking at you expectantly. "Or else what?"

Your eyes finally made contact with his, and he could feel he had insulted you somehow. "Or else... you'll regret it." You threatened, which he didnt take seriously, because- why would he? You're nobody.

His eyes lit up. "If you were any less threatening, Y/n, you'd be a dandelion." You rolled your eyes, clearly not amused. "Say whatever you want, but you and I both know you didnt do it for the money."

"What do you mean?"

"Mmhm, I dont know. Dont you have enough money already? I think- oh, you made a mistake there." you smirked taking his queen and now his king was left wide open for attack. "I think... you were scared to say no."

"Excuse me?" He moved his king. You chased him with your knight.

"You heard me." Your rook pushed his king into the corner. Frustratedly, he tries to escape by moving his king diagonally, but you were quicker with your bishop.

"Why would I be afraid of a man whose own brother-in-law is starting a rebellion against him and he's been allowing him to do so just because his sister claims to love him?" He taunted at the messed up family dynamics. Of course he knew how ready Baldwin was to give his kingdom away to Guy to be perished, but that was before he was cured of his leprosy.

You had boxed his king from all sides. No escape. "Why wouldnt you be? The same man was only just a 16 year old when he defeated you on the battlefield devastatingly. And that too, when he was so sick, his face was melting off." You knocked down his king. "Can you imagine how strong he is now that he's cured?"

His anger was subtle. Eyes glaring at you, mouth pulled into a thin line, his nostrils flared ever so slightly.

Clearly, you had struck a nerve.

"You shouldn't play with fire." He warned. You twirled his king between your fingers. "Who said I was playing?"

You both sat in silence for a few more moments, with you mostly relishing in your victory. "So, what do I get for winning again?"

His eyes narrowed, though they werent as hostile as they were a few moments ago, "You get to keep your head."

"Am I always playing for my life everytime we play chess?" "Yes." "Huh. So how does it feel to know that I will outlive you?" You teased, making him roll his eyes as he stood up, leading you out of his tent.

"My men are going to accompany you to Egypt. They're ready, so-" he looked at you with a scowl. "Leave."

"Aww, thank you, aljedu!" You waved, leaving before he could get mad at you for calling him "grandpa".

-

The journey to Egypt took a little over 4 days, but you really cant complain with the small army of people at your service. Even the men and women Salauddin had sent with you made sure to cater your every need, and more importantly, help you and your entourage survive the desert.

The pyramids were still as magnificent as in the future, though the area was now surrouded by a bustling market of sorts. As your caravan moved further into the town, you saw a large centre built that had the traditional Islamic architecure elements- huge domes, minarets, white pillars. The colourful tile works (prominents turqoise and dark blue themes) and a few gothic arches displayed the catholic influence as well.

"What's that?" You had asked one of the knights. "Thats the madarasas." You nodded as you recalled reading about it in "the golden age of Islam" era. Madarasa was essentially an educational institution that were devoted to the study of law, maths, science, medicine, religion, philosphy and other subjects. The complex itself consisted of a mosque, a library, a boarding house. They were home to both students and professors, and were maintained by charitable endowments and unlike a modern day college, it lacked a specific curriculum or institutionalise system of certification. Information was usually passed on informally from teacher to student, and both men and women were able to attend.

It was heaven for anyone who seeked to learn, and this was exactly where you would be going to get help for your time machine.

But that would have to wait, as you were now lead to Salauddin's palace for rest. It was massive and just like the madarasa, it was also beautifully constructed. The palace spread over on a large area of land, and although it was was around 80-100 feet in height with those humongous pillars at each corner, the palace was largest in horizontal dimensions. Inside, after passing a throng of soldiers stationed who kept their gaze lowered even though she and most of the females were completely veiled, you saw a huge pool that continued throughout the palace, even through sharp corners. It almost looked like the castle was built around the turquoise pool. Despite it being hot as hell outside, the palace was cool and insulated even though there were no air conditioners or fans and was open enough to be well ventilated. You had seen the palm date trees through the city, but there was a huge new variety of exotic plants inside that you dont think would be able to survive in the desert.

Egyptians were truly ahead of their time.

-

After dinner, you were sitting in your room with your maids. They were talking about the hospitality of Muslims and all, helping you unpack and get ready for bed.

"Alright, time to sleep." You said with a yawn and they all immediately began leaving. All but one maid, who had to stay by your side at all times even when you were bathing. Apparently, Baldwin had ordered her to do so because he didnt trust anyone in the foreign lands.

"You can go to your chambers with the others, Isabella." You smiled politely at the blonde girl, no older than 19. She shook her head, her brows furrowing in concern. "No, princess. It is my duty to be with you at all times. What if you need me for something?"

"I wont." You smiled tightly. The sooner she left, the sooner you could sneak out of here and go to the madarasa. "You must be tired from all the travel. Please, go rest. I insist." But it was like she couldnt imagine committing a grave sin like this.

Fine. If she's not going to leave then-

"Isabella..." you come close to her, fiddling with your thumbs. "Can I trust you, Isabella?"

She nodded obediently. "Of course, my princess."

"I need to get out of the palace for some time." You tell her slowly, letting her absorb the words. Automatically, she responds. "I can have them arrange a tour tomorrow-"

"No, Isabella-" you let out a distressed sigh, rubbing your forehead as you paused for a dramatic effect. "I need to go out right now."

"Now? At night time?" The young girl wondered what possible emergency you could possibly have. "Oh, um- well, I can have the guards prepare a-"

"No!" You turned around, reaching for her hands. Isabella's eyes widened. A princess- royalty is touching her? You tilted your head sligtly, eyes making a desperate plea.

"I have business that I need to take care of on my own. I-" you sigh dramatically before looking at her with most remorseful eyes. "I have to find my family. I need to- I cant get married without them attending. I- I- just need them and I know! I know they're here! I can feel it!" Isabella's face softened at your "distress" but you can still see her hesitance, and so before she could protest, you squeezed her hands. "I tell everyone I am an orphan but- the the truth is... I was a slave. I was stolen from my family and- and I was raised with other slaves. It wasnt until I was 8 that I had ran away. I've been running from my owners for a long time, all while trying to find my family. I dont care if they're dead but- I need to know. I need to know, Isabella. You... you understand why, right?"

Tears slipped from Isabella's eyes as she nodded her head feverently.

"Of course I do, princess!"

-

You pulled your shawl around you tighter. Temperatures really did drop significantly at night in deserts. You were now standing outside the madarasa you had seen earlier in the day after convincing Isabella to stay behind and pretend to be you under the covers in bed while you went out.

The building was much more quiet now, although the market was still alive but people were less and everyone was mindful of how much noise they made.

You quietly walked into the madarasa, pretending to be one of the several servants who were entering the place. Inside, the area was designed in the shape of a rectangle without a roof in the center. The moon light illuminated the common ground in the middle while lanterns were lit all around the 4 sides, numerous doors on each side.

Keeping your veiled head down, you walked past many scholars and students. You wanted to enter a room, but with all the doors closed, you feared you'd enter the wrong room with someone who wouldnt be as forgiving to a stranger entering this place.

But luck was on your side tonight, as your eyes finally caught sight of an ajar door, and you slipped in once you noticed no one was currently in the room. The room was far more spacious than you had anticipated and even though the equipment was far too old, you recognised it to be a sort of lab. Nearing the desk in the corner, you noticed some papers spread around with some maths done. Even though the numbers were in Arabic, you recognised it- algebra.

"What are you doing here, woman?" You look upto find a man in his late 30s with a white turban and a black beard looking at you angrily. "Who sent you here? By Allah! Leave right now or I will have you punished for trespassing and attempting to seduce a pious man you devil-"

"I'll leave but I cant go without correcting your error." You said pointing to his papers.

He blinked at you. "What error?"

You laughed tauntingly. "Im surprised you dont see it." The man's brows furrowed as he marched over to you. "There is no error! I am the finest mathematician of this decade, if not century! I study astrology, biology, physics, alchemy, philosophy and you dare tell me that I made an error?! I am Al-Abbas ibn Bashir! Who are you to correct me woman?!"

You stared at him unamused. "The square root of 8 is not equal to the square root of 4 + square root of 4." You said pointing at his paper. He squinted at you, trying to process your words before looking where you were pointing.

"Yes, it is. It is additive-"

"Not everything is additive." You sighed, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and solving the question step by step for him. "See? Square root of 8 is 2.818 while square root of 4 is 2, so since we have two square roots if 4, it'll be 2 plus 2, which adds to 4."

You sat down on his chair while he looked over your explanation, trying to find an error in your work. There were none.

Abbas looked at you, brows still furrowed. "You- fine, you are correct. I made a small error-" "Small?" You teased. "Yes, small!" He snapped back as you chuckled. He continued. "But that doesnt explain what youre doing in my office. Who are you?"

You rested your head on your palm and stared at him. "I have work for you."

"And what might that be?"

"Hmm, depends. Are your studies purely theory based or... experimental as well?"

Abbas gave you a nod. "I like to mainly focus on theories, but I like to test my theories as well, so from time to time, I do have to conduct experiments as well."

"Fantastic!" You straightened up and grabbed a paper as you began drawing a tool. "Here, I have mentioned the dimensions and I need you to engineer this for me." He took the paper from you. "What exactly is it?"

"I cannot tell you." "Why?" "Well, I'm a scientist too, and I dont want you to stealing my work." You replied as you pulled out your coin purse that Baldwin had given you. "I suppose this would be sufficient for you?" You placed 5 gold coins in front of him.

Abbas scoffed. "You think you can buy me? I dont care for money!" He stood up, turning away from you.

You raised your brow. "Name your price."

He shook his head. "I cannot be bought, woman. I am a man of science. I have far more important things to be doing with my time-"

"Like making more mistakes?" He glared at you. "One small error. Thats all it was. Besides, just because I made a small miscalculation doesnt mean youre smarter than me."

You smiled under your veil.

"Wanna test that?"

-

Abbas had decided to work for you after you had outsmarted him in every subject he presented. I mean you only had to touch the basics of what you had learned in 6th grade science class but he was- bamboozled.

After he had recovered from his shock, he had agreed to work for you on the condition that you check his work for mistakes and impart some of you teachings. He swears he wont copy any of your "works". You gave him the gold coins and told him to work under complete discretion and that you'd meet him again in 3 days time, when you're ready to return to Jerusalem.

The plan was to collect your tool from him and then give him a couple more tools to design which you would collect 2 weeks later when you visited Egypt again. Because while you do need to work on your time machine, you also need to find ways for Baldwin to go to war with Salauddin again, because originally Baldwin dies of leprosy, but since you already cured that... you need to find a way for Baldwin to die and so far, a war seems to be the only answer.

But youve seen their relationship... Baldwin and Salauddin wouldn't simply jeopardise everything like that. They have a good bond, a strong friendship even.

However, if highschool has taught you anything, even the closest friendships end because of misunderstandings.

And so, a week later, you were back in Jerusalem with your new tool and a new plan in mind.

You walked up the stairs and towards Baldwin's office. Since you had arrived earlier than he was expecting, you wanted to surprise him. Honestly, you missed him and his adorable expressions-

You stopped at the foot of the door, your heart dropping at the sight.

Baldwin and a woman... kissing.

Thoughts? Also send asks

[mc-critical]

Satrakci's Ibratice & Hürremleo parallels

Sadika and Matrakci become a more fascinating story with each rewatch and one of the main reasons why is the parallels it has with two other resident tragic couples.

[My initial plan for the post was for it to only be about Satrakci's parallels with Ibratice, as I wanted to rework what I said in this IG edit I made for Sol's birthday back in July (I've been unwell ever since I was graced with the Ibratice parallels then), but upon rewatch I noticed the Hürremleo parallels as well, so why not include both, right?]

In terms of Hürremleo, the parallels are looser at first; they can be seen more through some similarities in role either Sadika or Matrakci have to Leo or Hürrem, as well as the ties they have with them in the respective plots, but then the parallels become more and more direct due to the shared, ongoing tragedy of both stories.

Both Leo and Sadika are from another country and come in Istanbul for an ""ulterior"" motive connected to their love: Leo searches for his Alexandra, while Sadika seeks vengeance for her Ariel. They gain others' favor along the way and it's this exact favor that complicates matters for them even further: Sadika is sent to Hatice and Ibrahim's castle, while Leo is sent to a painters' workshop, both encountering difficulty to finish their respective duties or missions, what's ordered to them by the rulers in general (killing Süleiman ordered by Louis, finishing Süleiman's portrait ordered by SS himself). The agency of both of them is constantly violated when they only want to be done soon as possible (Leo's aforementioned "order" itself is merely a part of this, and even though Sadika wants to seek her vengeance, the pressure is definitely wearing on her too). Both of them get someone (Nigar, Matrakci) to send their letters to the people related to their 'purposes', their closest people there, really. Both of them are labeled as traitors and are "dealt with" in the same episode after their 'traitorous' acts have been revealed in some way.

There's a whole post to be made about Sadika's parallels with Hürrem, but overall it's their whole trajectory in the harem that is paralleled: they win over some main authorities (the dynasty and SS respectively) but not others, however those who are won over are really won over, their fondness and trust is really earned (until it's broken at some point, whether permanently or for a while, namely due to something to do with murder on different scales: Ayşe Hatun's murder - that both Hürrem and Sadika are tied to - or the murder attempt on SS); they cling to their original faith at first (parallel scenes with their crosses) and become muslim for more pragmatic reasons (I believe Hürrem started developing some feelings for SS right when she fainted in his arms, with her praising him in front of Gülnihal after that scene, and having flashbacks later and so on, but it was all a gradual process); their motivations have to do (at least at first in Hürrem's case) with revenge due to their past experiences, their loved ones' losses; they are seperately tutored by Sümbül Ağa (and both call his name wrong at times!); the concubines dislike and mistrust them due to their respective rises in the ranks and both have beefs with Ayşe Hatun in particular. Both Sadika and Hürrem also have Leo and Matrakci respectively as likely to compromise what they have accomplished, so they don't want them around themselves much (at least not until Sadika finds use for Matrakci and yet she doesn't want him to go much beyond that use, understandably), no matter how much they may appreciate them or what they do for them.

Both Matrakci and Leo are harem outsiders that perceive that whole world as foreign or just beyond them no matter how close to it they appear to be at this point, so the only thing they can do is go with the flow and navigate it together (Matrakci obviously knows way more than Leo but still). They are ordinary people that somehow always end up at the heart of the action (i.e. the jannisary rebellion) due to their ties with the main characters (Hürrem and Ibrahim respectively). Both of them are characterized by their strong loves. Both of them are insistent on taking every chance they get to meet their loves no matter how impossible it may seem. Both of them lean on hope to get closure with their loves no matter how delayed (Matrakci) or inconceivable (Leo) it is. Both of them are devastated at the end as they face the consequences of being involved in a supposed betrayal. Both of them want their own lives to be taken instead of having to deal with the aftermath of the painful event (that would include having to see their loves suffer or them having to make their loves suffer).

Both Matrakci and Hürrem are people who are still on their path to adapt, but get more and more ingrained in the palace life eventually to the point they get inseparable from it much later on (and that is also helped by their contrasting relationships with Ibrahim). Both of them function as Leo's guides to the inner workings of the castle at certain points. Both of them are motivated by their resurged or newfound care for him here and try to help him in many ways. Both of them try to arrange for their loves to leave (whether subtly or directly, whether for real or as a ruse for another order to be followed). Both of them have to deal with the deaths of their loved ones, brought forth by their hands, due to a cruel order of the same person. Both of them can't seem to forget the experience, no matter how much one might push them to. Both of them keep it close to their hearts.

The more we go, the more tied together these different people get. From Sadika who comes to the harem with a mission that becomes likely to get compromised and that comes to involve Hürrem (when does Hürrem first dream of Leo himself, with him telling her he'll save her? Oh, right - when she was exiled in Edirne for Sadika's murder of Ayşe!); to Sadika aiming more adamantly for SS's chambers, becoming a direct threat for Hürrem, thus she sends her away; to Leo arriving in Istanbul and then showing up all the more in the place Sadika is sent away in; to Hürrem seeing Leo again for the first time in that same place; to Hürrem meeting Leo there again, with Sadika getting involved too for a bit, suspecting something and searching at Leo's things (and it's namely there almost all her meetups with Matrakci are as well); to both the orchestration of Leo's death and the final sealing of Sadika's fate being all tied again to Ibrahim's castle (the main room and the dungeon, respectively), to Ibrahim himself.

Ibrahim seems to "bless" both respective couples or at least the people that are part of them that are more tied to him (Matrakci, Leo); one instance genuine, the other quite performative (wanting to marry Matrakci to Sadika throughout many episodes; telling Leo to confess everything in order for Ibrahim to ""protect"" Hürrem in E24), but ultimately, he screws over both of them at the same time, in the same episode (Hürremleo at day, Satrakci at night), without hesitation. They are forever torn apart and only the surviving have to deal with the fallout (no wonder Matrakci's anguish right after Sadika's death is immediately followed by Hürrem's cries in the hammam!).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In terms of Ibratice, along with the more basic similarities in role these four people share with one another and the ways they're tied in their respective plots, we have more outlined but deceptive parallels that solidify and become more legitimate due to the joint inevitable future tragedies that await both stories.

Both Ibrahim and Sadika are loved before they feel anything for the people who love them in return. They make their first move only when they sense they can latch onto these people due to different reasons, but they still grow eventual fondness for them regardless. They are the more restrained, cautious side in most of the interactions. They are the ones mostly sending the letters.

Both Ibrahim and Matrakci are the more active forces in their dynamics with their significant others: they seek the opportunities to arrange the meetings, they mostly send the gifts. They are more persistent to fight for their loves however possible. They respect each other's feelings (at least to a point in Ibrahim's case) because they get each other and they get it. They're close witnessers of the others' happiness.

Both Hatice and Sadika have faced the death of their former husband and have trauma related to that, regardless of their different views on said men and their different reactions. Both of them are pressured by those above them in some ways (Hatice to marry Mehmet Celebi; Sadika to avenge Ariel as quickly as possible, at all costs). Both of them are wary not to be seen, of the reactions of others while meeting Ibrahim and Matrakci respectively. Both of them strive for put some distance between Ibrahim and Matrakci respectively, no matter the reason.

Hatice's dynamic with Sadika in particular, along with Ibrahim's with Matrakci, is only bound to put Sadika and Matrakci's parallel story at a center stage. Both Hatice and Ibrahim relate to the hurdle Sadika and Matrakci are apparently experiencing, as this is a hurdle they both have recently experienced and they (Hatice especially) want Sadika and Matrakci to flourish, so they obviously plan to marry them.

However, just like Hatice is a distant witnesser to what's happening around Sadika and the similarities between the four are again very baseline, that relating of Ibratice's to Satrakci is merely relating by assumption. Ibrahim and Hatice think that a love story is happening in front of them, but despite of the similar secret meetings both duos have in the palace gardens, Sadika and Matrakci aren't quite a love story. It's more about Sadika seeking ways to smooth her situation over and fulfill her mission. While Matrakci really loved her, the way Sadika's feelings develop turns out to be way more complicated and it all starts from an initial sense of discomfort, even fear (given her previous experience with Bonçuk Ağa, why wouldn't she be wary of another man who wants her and pursues her?; I think the main reason why she grew fond of Matrakci regardless was him actually showing Sadika basic respect in spite of his passionate feelings he also struggled to contain at times, along with him helping her that unconditionally. And given how many traumas related to that she's experienced - not just by Bonçuk but also by Süleiman - of course that would mean the world to her. Him actually being decent to her and facilitating her mission? Of course that would come to comfort her at least a bit.), then moving to gratitude and only then, finally, to appreciation and fondness (even before his offer for escape in E25, as she called him a good person several times before, in E24 as well) and even then, the objective is prioritized most. The letters weren't letters for her uncle but for the Hungarian king. They all were involved in a spy mission and no one realized it until it was already too late.

But the more we head to the reveal of who Sadika truly is and the characters' realizations and reactions, the closer Satrakci end up to Ibratice. Along with Sadika becoming fonder of Matrakci, more parallels between her and Ibrahim crop up as both of them emerge as traitors to the Sultan not just through their parallel plot-lines in the same episode with Leo/Hürrem and Süleiman respectively (with Ibrahim as the more indirect traitor in both the Leo situation and his involuntary involvement in Sadika's own 'traitorous' actions; though both him and Sadika are placed as killers in their parallel plot-lines: one of Leo - a successful attempt, the other of Süleiman - an unsuccessful one), but also through one finalizing action that will directly threaten the sultan (more metaphorically in Ibrahim's case and more literally in Sadika's) that will bring them on their way to execution.

Sadika is immediately disarmed and imprisoned, awaiting for her fate while the full extent of her several crimes is yet being uncovered. lbrahim's single crime is still pondered on by Süleiman, so he isn't directly confronted, it all rather seeming like his relationship with SS is on a high instead, having no idea what would later come forth. Both Ibrahim and Sadika are supposedly given a way out by (Ibrahim's other lover :DDDD) Süleiman and Matrakci respectively - Ibrahim apparently solidifiying even more his perhaps no longer shaky place next to his majesty and Sadika getting hopeful for a few moments that, maybe, an escape is truly possible (this can also be a parallel with Hatice to an extent - with her having worries earlier but ultimately brushing them off until the unavoidable truth is delivered to her, just like Sadika). Both are executed anyway.

This is where the parallels between Matrakci and Hatice come in: Both Matrakci and Hatice will have to grapple with these respective deaths. The loves of both emerge as traitors executed by the order of another person - of the one person, the next person Matrakci and Hatice value the most. Even though Ibrahim's death comes as a surprise to Hatice, while Matrakci is all too aware of it, having to follow the order himself, their pain is the same. And both of them are urged to get over it "with time", but they struggle to (and Hatice doesn't manage to at all; just like Sadika, she'll want to AVENGE her (other) husband who SS killed).

All these different people are tied together all the more directly and from the very beginning: Ibrahim brings Sadika in the castle per Matrakci's request due to Matrakci's pity and compassion for her; the first move Sadika does to gain favor is done during Hatice's engagement to Mehmet Celebi; Sadika becomes Hatice's main lady not only due to Hürrem's suggestion, but also because she too has come to like her; Sadika and Matrakci's whole story takes place in Ibrahim's castle once again; Ibratice's wedding opens the path for a possible Satrakci wedding, as I already mentioned; both Sadika and Matrakci (along with Leo) are next to Hatice during the jannisary rebellion and witness the loss of her child; Ibrahim and Matrakci order a brooch and a necklace for Hatice and Sadika respectively at the same time after Hatice loses the child; the closer Satrakci get to Ibratice's orbit in general, the more chipper Ibratice get over said possible wedding, trying to realize it... until Satrakci's doom suddenly comes forth, once again by the same person they've been "blessed" by before {and on an interesting more symbolic note that links that doom even more with Ibrahim: we have water motives around both Satrakci and Ibratice. Matrakci's last moments with Sadika, with what will only become a relic of the past, were on a boat (coming full-circle, as Sadika herself also arrived in Istanbul by a boat, ready to embrace her future). Ibrahim traveled on a ship to Parga, a remnant of his past as well, after everyone learned about his relationship with Hatice and it was unclear what would happen. Both relationships were threatened and in a completely final way, in terms of Satrakci. The freedom symbolism of the ship is pretty much taken away for the boat namely by the guy for who it meant freedom to quite an extent and it's turned into a close, inevitable, encompassing doom instead of a further, temporary one (although one could argue that some of the original freedom symbolism remains against all odds, as Matrakci allowed Sadika to put the sack on her head herself - but the outcome isn't changed regardless and this is sadly the most he could do in this situation...). Ibrahim himself is quite associated with boats too outside of that and this association is even called back in his last episode. Ibrahim is executed at night, just like Sadika is. Okay, I may be reaching here a bit, BUT...}.

Regardless of his earlier "blessing" of Sadika and Matrakci, everything is discarded after the betrayal and Ibrahim will make him execute her anyway, constantly insisting for him to move on. What's more intriguing, he tells this to Hatice as well, presenting the very assertion of "moving on with time" that she'll challenge in the future namely over her grief for him [the "scales of relation" tip again - it's now Ibrahim who distances himself from Matrakci's circumstances (even though he will end up unable to due to what'll come for him in the future), while Hatice relates to Matrakci's pain (and she'll continue relating to it in the future). It's kind of fascinating that Ibrahim and Hatice are actually at odds for this and that it is one of the first things they're actually at odds for outside of their different relationships with Hürrem, even before Hatice's first pull of rank on him; it may not be just a matter of viewpoints (and coping mechanisms: Ibrahim strives to completely move on from his painful experiences, to not even recall them and expects others to do so as well, while Hatice arrives at a point when she no longer can after the person she leans on the most is also taken away from her, after her brother too is taken away from her; how can she cling to peace any further, will it be possible? She desperately wishes to make it possible, however...) - Ibrahim at this point definitely wouldn't want her to grieve for him forever, he would like to spare her that pain, still though...]. So Matrakci and Sadika skip straight to Ibrahim and Hatice's tragic ending in spite of both Ibrahim and Hatice's hopes for them to get that initial happy ending of their wedding instead. This is how Satrakci emerge right up as tragic mirrors to Ibratice that'll only be an omen for the future, no matter how many ups there otherwise are and will be, no matter how much everything seems to be smoothed over.

[a-whispering-echo]

The story of The Royal Mage - UE Dust log

(im copy pasting some of the info i have written on my AO3 about these characters, because i have a bigger following here, and i know some people here dont use Ao3, so-) TW: gaslighting, death of loved ones, torture , murder and accusations of murder, classism and racism, and a character who covers their head taking off their veil ( not a Muslim character) if there's anything else, i'm so sorry please tell me!

WATER TYPE

"The Halfway-Unhinged Mage"

Dust - (legally Navarø (Romanized) - Meaning Fallen powder) Half Elf Wizard Rouge -> Wizard Age: 47 (20-ish in human age) Height; 5'2 Gender: (trans) Male he/him

His perception is so high he sees enemies that "Aren't there."

Was once the royal mage, and executioner.

if he had to choose between his scarf and his life, he'll choose the scarf.

thin - Horror says too thin

While working, he was ordered for a bi-monthly check up with the Seer, and they prophesied that he would bring about the death of his brother.

He was immediately imprisoned and tortured on suspicion of plans to murder and treason. And under months of torture, he went mad.

Nüu, hoping to escape his fate, goes to Dusts work room, hoping that he may have made some sort of potion or spell for immortality. To his glee, Dust had a potion in the work for what he believed to be immortality.

Dust wrote all his spells in a language not Common or Dûvan (the native languages to the island.) A version of Old Elvish, taught to him by his father.

Unfortunately, Nüu had mistranslated his brothers words, mistaking "Painful Death" as "No Death" and dies slowly and agonisingly.

When Dust hears the news of his brothers death, he breaks out of jail in rage, and forces as much raw magic into his body as physically possible, in hopes of restring him. It works - in a sense.

He drags Nüu's body to a small local island, before he is recaptured. As the potion Nüu has drank had traces of Dusts magic on it, and knowing the prophesy, they believed he had killed him purposefully, and, under torture, he was manipulated into thinking he had.

As punishment for his supposed murder, his hair is cut (a huge thing for an elven culture, as elf hair is considered linked to their magic, and takes ages to grow, to cut is short is betraying all that is magical of you) and he has all of his potions tested on him in retaliation.

One of these potions makes him endure the feeling of his own death over and over, and for a large portion of time, he genuinely believes himself to be dead.

Until another one is tested, making his magical ability skyrocket, and he breaks out again, kills his captures, sets fire to the castle, killing the queen, grabs what is left of his notes and runs.

Due to this potion, his magic is completely unlimited, but he refuses to use it after what happened the last time.

While he says he doesn't use magic, he's so used to it that he uses it for small things all the time subconsciously. Strengthening the shadows around his hood, making sure Nüu's scarf doesn't come loose, deepening his voice to a more masculine tone, and hiding his chest.

He's still being searched for. He's very aware of this, and is terrified of what will happen to him when they do.

Nüu's body will never decay, and is kept in the mausoleum Dust dragged him to. He is very much dead and cannot be revived, but his body will remain forever due to the large amount of magic Dust pushed into his body.

The ghost is real. A mix between the actual Nüu, and a manifestation of Dusts overcharging magic, which slowly corrupts him as it is incapable of harming Dust in any physical manner. The overcharge turns Nüu very twisted, and makes Dust very tired, yet he refused to use any of it.

Nüu was the head of the guard, which is why it was such a big thing to assume he was going to be killed.

He owns a very shaky version of a teleporting machine, which is how he managed to travel the large body of water between the island of Thuva and the mainland.

He has a large scar across his right cheek, that he refuses to talk about. Everyone thinks this is because its traumatic, when in actuality, he just to embarrassed to explain it from landing of a tree branch weirdly after using his badly made device. Though he has improved these over time with the help from Error, and has them made for the whole team.

The island of Thuva is vaguely cult like. Their plan is to create immortal warriors and take the mainland for themselves, believing it to be their destiny.

The rich stay rich and the poor are disposable. Most people don't know they're being used, due to the strong divide between their rulers, and the settlements being so far away from each other.

The island is mostly full of elves and half- elves ( plus a few humans) but the majority are full elves, who look down of the half and human settlers. All half-elves are made to act according to Elf traditions, while humans aren't allowed to do much, and tend to lack rights. It's horrible place really.

Dust does end up using his magic again, unfortunately it takes extreme measures for this to happen. Killer end up falling off a cliff several years into them being a group, which leaves him out of commission for a long time. He's mostly fine, minus a few more scars in the end, but he breaks a bunch of bones and almost looses his arm. Dust could have saved him from falling, and the guilt causes it to use it again. He uses a lot of magic to heal Killer, with both spells and potions, and continues to regularly use magic again, normally potions he makes from his own herb garden, and spells if they need to attack. - (this story has been written on AO3!)

This also causes Nüu to calm down due to the less overflowing magic, and come back to his senses, and he tells Dust the truth about his death. He tells Dust that what happened wasn't his fault, that his captures had messed with his head, and that he hadn't had anything to do with his death, other than making the potion that was supposed to make his executioner job easier. This messes Dust up for a bit, as his whole perception of what happened had just come crashing down on him.

Despite his innocence, he doesn't stop veiling all the time, mostly just because it a part of him now, but he does take it off more, and lets his teammates see his hair.

Dusts eyes are normally red, but turn blue when his uses his water based elemental magic.