#no sword no bow but endless wit and so much courage

[lovecanbesostrange]

ouattober2023 Day 11: Girl Power

This is the OUaT prompt, so many moments, scenes, relationships, full episodes come to mind. So let me present what I like to call the Belle's Angels moments.

Belle alone is a great character for girl power moments. But look at what happens when she gets teamed up. :3

2x11 The Outsider One of the flashback episodes for Belle. She's having an adventure! And she's pissing big dudes off by being a smartypants (I love her). Luckily Mulan is there. Who appreciates Belle being a know-it-all, after being very irritated at first. Books can be useful and sometimes monster are people, too. An important lesson. They even trade their signature weapons for a moment.

3x07 Dark Hollow First off all, such a good beginning for Belle and talking about why she was left behind when the others sailed off (also that cloaking spell would have fit with the S2 storyline of hiding from the real world and not make it about Pan). She is so down on herself and Ariel is a hilarious partner to bounce off of. Optimistic, curious, but ultimately a bit clueless. Hilarious team-up. Yet, of course the word "love" comes up and Belle is invested in that right away. (Honestly, tell this woman your quest is either about love or has to do with beasts and she's in, it's scary.)

4x06 Family Business Somehow teaming up Belle and Anna seems so logical. They both dream about adventures and then get into situations. Wildly different ways of solving problems though, but together there is one functioning braincell and the biggest ever heart. Love that for them. (They should have started their trip by using the sauna though. Also a trip to the gym would help.) I do like that the topic of Belle not seeing herself as a hero comes up again, now paired with a different lady. It's also hilarious knowing how Anna just met Rumple (and successfully stole from him) and warns Belle about him. Well... Bonding over dead mothers (parents) is very Disney of them.

5x06 The Bear and the Bow Getting kidnapped/chained-up is a thing for Belle (ask around, so many instances), why not add one more as a first meeting? I hope Merida and Mulan can talk about their vastly different experiences they've had with "meeting Belle on the wrong foot first". It's kinda funny. Except Belle probably won't laugh. If there ever was a character desperately in need of having someone with a brain beside her, it's definitely Merida and it's hilarious how Belle is willing to help. We can also talk about the timeline and wonder once more, because when Belle and Merida are in the witch's hut, where is the wolf??

Okay, you may have noticed I kinda skipped something, because in a way it's a two-part punch. The other eps has Belle meet the girls for a brief moment mostly or just this one story beat. But then there are also:

2x04 The Crocodile and 2x07 Child of the Moon Because with Ruby it hits different. First Ruby helps Belle a bit (finding a purpose, but also a bed for the night; ending with driving the getaway car from the mines) and then in reverse Belle tries to help Ruby during an uncertain wolfstime (oh look, she gets chained up as a thanks).

This is what was missing from Belle's life - a steady friend(ship). Is there anything as heartbreaking as Ruby visiting Belle in the hospital in 2x13 Tiny? Meaningful friend moments over three different episodes. And oh, the things they could have solved together! True Girl Power Couple!! (Belle is the most proficient magic-user without being a witch and she can use a strong bodyguard.)

[theswordofpens]

5.) “Aut viam inveniam aut faciam.” (I will either find a way or make one)

Thanks for the ask! (This one’s gonna be a bit long, so I apologize for that.)

My hands shake at my sides as Jasmine pulls the veil over my face. “There you go, Beth. Words can’t describe how beautiful you look. Just breathe, okay?”

Easy for you to say, I think to myself. Gwen hands me the bouquet and smiles brilliantly. I take a deep breath and stand before the double doors of the grand palace hall. Casey, Jasmine, and Gwen stand behind me as the piano fills the air with soft music.

“My daughter,” Father says as he enters the room. I turn to him as tears form in my eyes from the sight of his smile. He gives me a gentle hug as Gwen, Casey and Jasmine bow slightly. Father waves them a hand and replies, “No need for that, girls. Right now I’m not the king, but a proud father who’s about to witness his daughter becoming a grown woman.” Father holds a sheathed sword in one hand and offers his other arm to me. I can feel my heart racing as I gingerly accept.

The old oak doors creak as they slowly swing open, a wave of gentle music crashing into us like a late afternoon breeze. Father and I make our way down the aisle, with Casey, Gwen and Jasmine in tow. My mother stands beside Pope Peter II and the Speaker of the house of Parliament. And with them is my darling, my beloved - Titus Reyes. Behind him stand Adam, Samuel, John, William, and Rex. Everyone’s eyes fall upon us when we reach the stage.

I join Titus’ side as he smiles and whispers to me, “You look drop-dead gorgeous, my love.” I smile as the both of us turn to look at my mother and Father.

My mother steps forward before us and shines me a quick smile. It was only for a moment, but I can tell that pride seeps out from within her as grabs the sword from Father. Mother is the first to speak. “My people, let us rejoice on this momentous day as we bare witness to these two very extraordinary people. Elizabeth Moira Cole, first born of the house of Cole and heir to the throne of the European Kingdom, we honour you for your dedication to your country and to your protection of both her people and her lands. Your actions during the battle with Marcus’ forces was truly heroic, for you risked your life in order to rescue so many of our wounded sons and daughters. However, you were the shining example of what it meant to be brave when you fought against Marcus himself in defense of King Leonard and I, Queen Adeline. For that, along with many other things, I’m grateful.” She smiles as Father joins her side and looks at Titus as he states, “Tagaloa Retele - renamed Titus Reyes by the great hero Adam - we honour you for your dedication to the protection of our heir and to for your service to this great nation. The bravery and courage you displayed in the battle against Marcus’ forces was exceedingly courageous, and to have won against one of Marcus’ Hybrid companions was nothing short of a herculean task. For that, and many more things, I’m grateful to you. Now, Titus Reyes and Elizabeth Cole, please kneel.”

We do as she asks and I kneel down on one knee, with a little help from Titus. A sword gently rests on my shoulder as both Mother and Father’s voices state, “With the power vested in me as ruler of the European Kingdom, I dub thee Lady Elizabeth and Sir Titus. Arise, knights of the European Kingdom, and stand proudly before your people!” The crowd cheers and claps loudly as Titus and I stand back up. Both Father and Mother step back for a moment as the Pope stands before us. Both Titus and I give a slight bow to him before he raises his staff with one hand and a bible in the other.

He looks at the crowd and states, “Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to bare witness as two souls come together in holy matrimony- Lady Elizabeth Cole and Sir Titus Reyes. King Leonard, you may begin.”

Father takes the sword out of Mother’s hands as he turns to me and holds it out to me, stating, “I cannot begin to describe how much of an honour and a blessing it has been to watch you grow into the woman you’ve become. My beautiful daughter, you have shown your mother and I what it means to be good parents, and you reminded us on what it means to be courageous in the face of adversity. With this sword, let it be known that you are your own woman now. May you choose wisely as to where your allegiance lies, as only you choose who you will have at your side in this war of Life. But no matter what, always know that your mother and I shall always be your allies, and that we will always love you.” Tears stream down my face as I accept the sword. I silently scold myself for blubbering like a baby in front of so many people. The Pope speaks once again as Father joins Mother’s side, stating, “And now, I call upon the great hero Adam Enders. Adam, you may proceed.”

The crowd cheers loudly as Adam marches over to us with a sword in his hand. He smiles brightly as he states, “Titus, I can’t tell you just how much I’m proud of you. I can remember the days when you, Sam and I were running around a dirty city trying to feed the poor. It’s been a crazy ride the entire way, and I’m happy that we’ve been together through all of this. I know that if your folks were here, they’d be just as proud of you as I am. You showed me what it means to be a Spartan, and you pushed me to become a better leader and a greater man. With this sword, I declare you to be your own man, free to choose who you want to fight beside in this war of Life. No matter what, though, I’ll always be your brother and your friend who would be glad to fight beside you.”

Titus’ grin stretches across his face as he accepts the sword from Adam. Titus then turns to me and stares into my eyes as the both of us unsheathe our swords and cross them. After a moment, we sheathe them again.

“Love is patient and kind. It is never jealous. It is never boastful, nor conceited. It is neither rude nor selfish. It does not take pleasure in other people sins, but delights in the truth. Love is always willing to forgive, to entrust, and to endure whatever may come. For love is as strong as death, its flashes are the very flames of the Lord. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. Love is our greatest weapon in this war of Life, for which nothing and no one can ever defeat. And now, let us exchange vows.”

My little brothers Jacque and Miguel march up the stage. Titus unsheathes his sword, kneels before me, and offers his blade to me as my brothers place the ring onto it. Titus clears his throat and states, “ Lady Elizabeth Cole, I offer you my everything. I’m not a wealthy man, and I technically don’t have a job. But I promise that I’ll do my best in order to make you happy and to support you, even if it means that I’ll have to move mountains for you. No matter the distance, I’ll cross it in order to be with you. I vow myself solely to you, Elizabeth, and I ask you be my wife and my friend in the war of Life.”

The tears keep pouring down my face as I try hard to compose myself. Titus shows me a look of concern as I slide the ring onto my finger. I flash him a quick smile as I clear my throat and unsheathe my sword. With shaky hands, I kneel before Titus and offer my sword and ring to him as I state, “Sir Titus, my darling, my beloved - it is my fondest hope and my solemn prayer that you would become my husband. Whenever you're with me, my heart dances in my chest. I don't want you because I need you, Titus. I need you because I want you. I give you everything I have, my dear, for I would trade away the crown, and even the whole world, if I can only be with you. Please, become my husband in this war of Life.”

A moment of silence passes, bot a sound throughout the entire room. Finally, a sniffle arises from Titus as he takes the ring and places it onto his finger. I quickly get up and sheathe my sword in concern, but a quick nod from Titus eases me.

Finally, the two of us look to the Pope while he speaks, “And now, as a symbol of their allegiance in the war of Life, they shall cross swords in the witness of everyone in attendance today. Let it be known that these two fight together in this war of Life, to all of the Heavens and to God above!”

Titus and I smile as we unsheathe our swords and cross them again, a single clash ringing throughout the entire hall. We sheathe them for the last time as the Pope continues, “Before we conclude this ceremony, is there anyone amongst us who would be opposed to this marriage? Speak now or forever hold your peace, friends.”

For a split second my nerves shoot through the roof before they die back down. The Pope smiles brightly as he states, “Then that shall conclude our ceremony! By the power vested in me, in the presence of both Heaven and Earth and by the power of God, I now pronounce these two soul mates as husband and wife. Titus, you may kiss the bride.”

We pause for a moment, staring into each other's eyes as if they were an endless ocean. I lean into him, locking our lips in a kiss that makes my heart melt within me. Titus and I wrap around each other for a moment, the whole hall erupting in a joyous noise. Adam gives out an excited shout as the whole hall collectively calms down.

What's going on? Confusion sets in as both Mother and Father approach us. Father gives me a quick look before she smiles and looks at the crowds again and states, “My people, there is one last ceremony which we wish to conduct today. Queen Adeline, former Duchess of the French Providence and I, King Leonard, the former Duke of the Irish Providence, wish to abdicate our right as king and queen. If it pleases the people, we choose Lady Elizabeth Cole and Sir Titus Reyes to be the next king and queen of the European Kingdom. What say you, my people?”

The crowd goes insane once Father finishes his sentence, the whole hall erupting with a sound of agreement. My hands begin to shake as Father and Mother face the two of us. Mother smiles brightly before asking, “Lady Elizabeth Cole Reyes and Sir Titus Reyes, please kneel one last time.”

We both comply, my nerves shooting through the roof. Am I ready for something like this? Are we ready for this? I remember all the lessons and the scoldings that Mother and Father gave me when I was a little girl, but I can’t help but feel as though I’m not ready. Titus holds my hand as Mother and Father state together, “Lady Elizabeth Cole Reyes and Sir Titus Reyes, it is with great honor the I abdicate the throne to you. I now crown you as Queen Elizabeth Cole Reyes and King Titus Reyes, rulers of the European Kingdom. It is my fondest hope that you would protect our lands, defend our people, and guide us to prosperity and peace. Arise now, as King and Queen of the European Kingdom!”

The crowd begins to cheer as Titus and I stand up once again, our hands still locked together. Even though it’s only made out of gold and some jewels, I can feel the crown’s weight on me. The Pope gives us his blessing before stepping aside to allow the Speaker of the house of Parliament to step forward and say, “My king and queen, I implore the both of you to please place one of your hands on this book and to repeat after me.”

We comply as she beings, “I, Queen Elizabeth Cole Reyes and King Titus Reyes,”

Titus and I follow suit and reply, “I, Queen Elizabeth Cole Reyes and King Titus Reyes-”

“Do solemnly swear,” she continues.

“Do solemnly swear”

“That I shall faithfully preside as ruler of the European Kingdom,”

“That I shall faithfully preside as ruler of the European Kingdom,” Titus gives me a quick look of joy as he smiles. My heart melts in my chest as she states, “And that I will to the best of my Ability,”

“And that I will to the best of my Ability,”

“To Preserve, Protect and Defend the lands of the European Kingdom and her people. Aut viam inveniam aut faciam.” She finishes, looking deeply into our eyes.

Titus and I give each other a quick smile before pronouncing proudly, “To Preserve, Protect, and Defend the lands of the European Kingdom and her people. Aut viam inveniam aut faciam!”

Thank you so much again, and sorry for how long this is! I hope you enjoyed it!

[blisserial]

Nine

Ross's Troop crossed the River Ann with more fanfare that my younger self expected. The king's soldiers spat and threw clods of mud as we pushed the cart over that limestone span but once we were past the arch and through the gate, I had to duck to avoid a different barrage of flowers and coin and, somewhat shockingly, wads of raw bread dough.

"Spice cookies," Ross laughed, bowing again and again to the gathered crowd. "To honor the gods' troubadours.  Their crust tastes of salt but their innards are thick with rush wine. Eat."

Gingerly, I rescued a cookie from the old mule's path, brushed away grass and grit, and took a bite. The salt made me grimace and gag but the sudden burst of warm liquor slid down my throat like honey. The sky seemed to brighten and the cheers of our eager audience grew to a roar.

Will, the tattooed mummer, glanced across the mule's muzzle at me and laughed. "Be wary, Bliss. One cookie will warm your heart, two will knock you flat." I noticed he had gathered a number of the doughy balls himself.

I spent my first four days across the border drunk on spice cookies. At Ross's command I ran endless displays of wit and skill from dawn to dusk and then fell into the role of musician and storyteller from sunset to moonset. We all ate and slept well, either in the jongleur’s cell every Southern inn kept free for just such an occasion, or in the home of any particularly ambitious small time politician looking for goodwill.

It soon became clear that I had fallen into good luck indeed. Ross was well regarded in the south and the members of his troop were treated with a lavish respect usually reserved on the other side of the border for the landed.

I felt as though I had obtained divinity, that first foray across the river, and long after the spice cookies were eaten I remained dizzy and drunk on that intoxicating taste of fame.

Most of Ross's adopted family had been across the border many times already. Seasoned players, they knew what to expect and how to keep in good graces.

But one young tumbler took the same heady sip of life I was savoring and let it drown her good sense. I do not recall her given name. Her given name was Lilah but Ross called her Whelp for the lively dance she did with our costumed dogs. Maurice called her darling and took her often to his bed.

In my own head I named her Red, not for the color of her scarlet hair but for the webs of pink sleeplessness her new addiction to opiate gum left in her eyes.

Our Red was lovely enough, so it was no surprise when, during a long stop over at a large village bordering Emman city, she was taken up by an ordained Temple priest. I do not know if she loved him. I suspect it was his sumptuous gifts and the  thin reek of power that snagged her heart.

It came time for Ross's Troop to bow a last farewell and Red refused to leave her priest. Ross might have let her be but Southern tongues wag. Her priest had not been particularly subtle about his new attachment. The Seat is a jealous lord and his gods have not a single finger bone of mercy.

A small group of soldiers from the local barracks came for Red our last evening in town as we worked a small private performance in a barrister's manse. They swept in amongst the guests, an inexorable tide of leather and sword point and pistol. They took Red from her dancing dogs before most of us noticed her absence.

The barrister appeared apologetic but resigned. Ross was unsurprised. He delayed our departure one more day while he and I rode the mule into Emman. We sat on the white temple steps under the weight of a sizzling sun and waited  until bells rang for evening prayer. Soon after an acolyte brought us a rough wool bag neatly packed with Red's blouse, and hose, and boots, and a few pieces of jewelry she had chosen from a Southern silver merchant the day we crossed the River Ann.

                                                            *****

Maurice didn't often think of regret. A man could not live his life forward if he always looked back over his shoulder. He'd killed his fair share of men and women, but he took no real joy in violence. He did what a man must to survive and he tried his best, day by day, to please both himself and his gods. And, of course, to please Bliss.

He did regret Lilah. He had loved her, he supposed, in his own way. He'd loved the way her red curls tangled about his fists, and the way she saved him the choicest bits of supper before the others descended on the communal cook pot. He loved the low songs she sang to him, late at night, as they lay wrapped together in his bedding.

But he'd found her temper annoying, and her arrogance, and her disdain of his little cigarettes. So he'd sometimes snapped at her when she was late with his dinner, or when she sang off tune, or faltered during performance. Which made it his fault she had at last one night tossed dinner in his face and walked away. The very next day she'd taken up with a scrawny Low Temple priest.

Lilah he regretted.

So Maurice was not surprised when his feet led him eventually away from the barracks and the shadow of the Seat's white spire,and then along the curving busy roads to Emman's center, and at last up the one hundred steps of the Low Temple.

The red was unfurled here, too. Crimson flags flew from needle thin pinnacles. Wide red silk swathed the Temple pillars. Maurice climbed the steps slowly, each boot heel placed carefully upon planed limestone so as not to slip. He'd seen penitents fall while climbing the steps, from grief or fear or weariness. He'd seen them slip and slide and tumble on the sharp edges, and he'd heard their bones crack.

The stair was full of pilgrims, jostling as they climbed. Maurice ignored them. Under the Seat's shadow god worship was more than a man's choice. The Temple's blessing was as essential as bread and water. A Southern lord would give up his single heir to an unnamed god without so much as a shudder, or slit his mother's throat upon a gilded alter at the Seat's whispered suggestion.

Maurice had no interest in mindless avidity. He knew far better. A Northern man, landed or peasant, loved his god as best as possible but sacrificed blooded kin for no less than the king.

The gods watched as a man made his own destiny. No amount of time spent in the glare of whitewashed walls or endless heat would ever convince Maurice otherwise.

The priests waiting at the top of the stairs blessed Maurice with a scattering of perfumed water. He made the proper knee bend as they murmured at him in tones no less sweet than Lilah's own.

He almost paused, almost asked the questions he had not dared voice nine summers earlier, but Ross's old warnings still echoed between his ears: make your sale, collect your coin, and smile as you walk on.

Maurice found a smile as he shoved his way into the crowded Temple, aware always that no pilgrim went unnoticed. The dozen or so of solicitous and grave priests ranged around the front altar were as watchful as hounds.

He felt their eyes on him as he dropped his last silver pennies into the elaborately carved receiving box just inside the wide doors. For an instant he sympathized with Bliss's distrust of all things godly.

Maurice scrubbed a hand over his face, callusing emotion away.

"Fox's balls, man," he scolded himself quietly. He desperately wanted a cigarette. "Show some courage, soldier."

A woman robed all in gray glanced up from her obeisance. She wore her hair long, in the way of the priesthood, but the braids and curls were still free of beads. An initiate, Maurice guessed. Praying for acceptance or mourning lost freedom. He shrugged and hurried on.

The Low Temple had more tiers than a baker's butter cake. The main floor was reserved for the penitent, and above that, a floor for private worship. Another two floors for the entombment of the blessed or wealthy, and yet another three filled with cots; the ordained were allowed little in the way of privacy. The topmost floor sheltered the Temple Roll, shelf upon shelf of books as regimented and ordered as the beds on the floor beneath.

Maurice had seen that endless army of volumes once already in his life. He was not eager to do so again.

"Pilgrim." A skeletal hand reached through the throng and grasped Maurice by the shoulder. "Are you lost?"

"No." 

The hand belonged to a bony priest wearing a welcoming smile. The multitude of sapphire beads in the fellow's hair glittered in the candlelight.

Maurice slipped from beneath the priest's fingers. "No," he repeated. "Not lost, Brother. Only meaning to light a candle for one I miss."

"Ah." The priest's smile became, if possible, even wider. "You'll find we have votives set in all three alcoves this day. So many people! The city simply buzzes with celebrants eager to pay their respects before ordination."

"Ordination." Maurice paused in mid flight. He eyed the smaller man. The priest was growing bald between his carefully detailed beads. "Not just initiation?"

"Oh, no." The priest patted Maurice's arm gently. "This year we are lucky enough to have a few pure enough of heart and intention to rise straight through the ranks. Nearly unheard of, I know! Why, the last time such a thing happened I was barely an initiate myself."

"The year this Seat was born." Maurice knew the tale. He'd heard it over and over to numbness on the muddy Southern battlefield.

The priest nodded. "The year our Seat was born."

 Maurice found a wedge of space in the second alcove and knelt before a village of bright candles. The woman to his left was weeping over her votive. The boy to his right was stiff-lipped and angry where he bowed over his candle. Maurice drew his own small flame from his sleeve and lit a votive. Regret seemed faded as he bowed his head in respect, whispering Lilah's name.

"Dead or damned for bedding a priest," he murmured over the wick, "may you find a parcel of peace."

When he looked up the boy and the old woman had gone. It was not until Maurice found his feet and steadied his bones that he missed the faltered, crowded breathing that had, until a moment ago, been the music of his surroundings.

He turned slowly and found the alcove cleared but for the elderly priest and his new escort of solemn guards.

"Sergeant," the priest said, still gentle. "Have you spoken your remembrances to the lost?"

"Yes." So after all they knew him. Maurice clenched his fist to keep the fire quenched. He wished fervently that he had been brazen enough to wear a knife.

"Then, come with us, if you please."

The priest gripped Maurice's arm, inexorable, and the guards closed in.

 They took him down instead of up, down a long straight staircase as slippery and dangerous as the one hundred outside, although far less busy with life and movement. The guards did not let him fall. The held him fast, shoulder to shoulder and breast to back. The thin priest proved surprisingly nimble. He led the way, robes pulled up about his knees to bare naked feet. He paused occasionally to turn and see that his hostage still followed.

For hostage Maurice was, if wrapped only in the silken chains of the priest's polite smile. By the time Maurice decided that he was willing to risk fire for escape the chance had long passed. He could feel the weight of the earth and temple above his head and in the heavy air. He did not think he would find his way free even if he murdered every one of the six soldiers.

He wondered if this was the way they had taken Lilah. And then he wondered what Bliss would do once she noticed his disappearance.

"Sergeant." The climb ended abruptly. An unlatched door loomed of the very foot of the staircase. The priest pushed the door open and gestured Maurice through.

He might have hesitated. He wanted to. But if no one else knew he died a coward, still he would know.

He stepped past the priest into darkness and then because he heard the sudden scrape of sword on scabbard and could not help himself, he lit the room with a burst of flame and smoke. The priest protested in shrill tones until one of the guards brought Maurice down with a heavy blow to the back of the head.

The world tilted. Maurice's flame went out but the room remained bright. He blinked hard. Eventually the world steadied just enough so that beyond the throbbing in his head he could recognize a small round table set with fruit, and bread, and ale.

From beyond the table stepped a young lad with an oddly familiar face. He cocked the silver pistol in his hand and leveled it, taking careful, precise and steady aim at Maurice's heart.

"How beautiful your flame is, conjured from thin air! And yet you told me, did you not," the lad said gently chiding, "that there was no such thing as witchery."