#references to ASIT but no real spoilers

[ofhouseadama]

"I know you're in love with me" for Garashir, with something from Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi

Was never the right time whenever you called Went little by little by little until there was nothing at all Our every moment, I start to replay But all I can think about is seeing that look on your face

It's been close to a year now since he heard from Dr. Bashir, and a little over six months since he sent him... whatever one would like to call his last message to the good doctor. The word "letter" doesn't carry enough heft for the length of the missive, or its contents. His memoirs, Garak supposes, flung out into space in the hopes of reaching the one person left in the universe who might understand him. Who might still be capable of forgiving him.

But it's hard not to read Bashir's silence as damnation. To not assume that he stretched, overreached, and overextended the doctor's capacity for mercy. Perhaps his silence is the kindest Dr. Bashir is capable of being towards him. Perhaps, Garak thinks on the nights where the darkness and the hunger and the wretched pain of the creation of a new Cardassia does not manage to consume him--perhaps the doctor is struggling himself with the aftermath of the war, tucked safely away on Deep Space Nine, and hurting.

Other nights he imagines Bashir and Dax in bed together, laughing at the contents of his letter. The Doctor and the Counselor, mocking him in his hopelessness. He has never been capable of getting better before. Why start now? Why not just give up, allow the disease and malnutrition take him?

On other nights still, he wonders if his mangled attempt at a goodbye has precluded him from access to Dr. Bashir's life. He remembers the look on the dear Doctor's face as he worked through the scope of the casualties of the Dominion bombardment. He turns the moment over in his mind, searching, searching--was he too cruel? Too brusque? Should he have tried to soften himself, tried to cry, scrounge up a performance of vulnerability? Garak is not practiced at keeping people in his life. Dr. Bashir had said that they would meet again in this life, and he had almost laughed in his face. He would have, if the words had been spoken by anyone but the Doctor. From the Doctor, he almost believed them.

It's Kira who checks up on him the most, a fact that would be infuriating if she didn't write to him with a earnest, albeit clumsy and bare, sort of kindness. What camaraderie exists between them is earned, and he reminds himself of that. Kira writes to him about Quark and Morn and the other inhabitants of the Promenade, about Ezri Dax and Kassidy and Jake Sisko, about his former customers. But she writes nothing about Dr. Bashir. And Garak doesn't dare ask.

He's old enough to know better than to ask questions he doesn't want to know the answer to.

The answer comes anyway.

Eventually.

Early one morning, before the sun even rises, there's a new message waiting for him in his inbox from his dear Doctor. A new message, a letter, a--he still doesn't know the word to describe what they've exchanged, he thinks, downloading the message's contents. His pulse races, opening up the attached file.

We have not grown apart, dear friend. It begins. We are still two literature lovers. We are still two unfinished men, challenging each other to consider the universe in new ways. We are still under the same stars.

Garak reads the next two hundred and thirty-seven pages voraciously, sipping red leaf tea and eating stale ration bars as he consumes the contents of Dr. Bashir's life. His scant memories of life before Adigeon Prime, the false idyll of his childhood, the moment the fabric of his life frayed and came undone when he found the paperwork in the attic of the London townhome and chased out all the secrets into light. The manic days at the Academy, the people he never let too close, the homes he never had. Meeting and leaving people behind. Leaving places behind. Leaving the truth behind. Leaving no trace of the true Julian Bashir.

His arrival on Deep Space Nine.

His departure from Deep Space Nine. (What? When? Garak thinks, stopping himself from flipping ahead. Stories are made to be consumed a certain way, and he knows that his dear Doctor has crafted the tale of his life with a surgical precision, with unrelenting care.)

Their first meeting.

Their last meeting.

And then the war in between. Garak stands when he reads of Dr. Bashir's encounters with Section 31. Of his final encounter with Section 31. The end of the war. Their last meeting, their parting, again. And then:

I wish I had been forthright. But I was exhausted, battered, and diminished. I should have told you that you were strong. That you would survive this. That Cardassia would survive, because you would hold it together stitch by stitch, seaming the fabric of Cardassian society and culture and art and literature and music back together by yourself if you had to. That you were Cardassia's most gifted mind.

I should have told you so many things, but I couldn't even say them to myself. I didn't recognize them in myself. I've always hid the most important truths from myself, in order to most effectively conceal my deepest, darkest secrets.

I'm in love with you, Garak.

Garak has to sit on his bed, his fingers going numb around his PADD.

And... after reading what you wrote to me, I know you're in love with me too. But I'm old enough to know that love isn't enough. It never has been, for men like us. It can't be.

I came to Cardassia six months ago with the Federation convoy.

Garak has to check his own pulse. Is he hallucinating? Is he hypotensive? Hypertensive? Forcing his breaths to remain even, he counts his heartbeats as they thrum against the pads of his fingers.

I know that I could not say that I love you and not also love Cardassia--it wouldn't be fair to you. I have always known that once you returned from Cardassia, you could never be parted from her again. So I took a leave of absence from Starfleet to volunteer with the Federation Disaster Relief Corps, an option extended to all Starfleet medical personnel after the end of the Dominion War. It was Ezri's idea, honestly. We... didn't last very long after the end of the war. Not even a month. She's gone on to command training now, chasing her new dream, allowing herself to fully integrate with the Dax symbiont.

And I'm running a pediatric clinic in the Cardassian capitol. Every morning I half expect to find you having broken into my apartment, smirking as you ask how I expected to be on your Cardassia without you knowing. But I imagine that you're quite busy running the interim government, or so I hear on the radio and from my patients. Well, my patients' grown ups.

The address to my temporary housing is attached to this email. Today is my first day off in eighteen days. I'm not afraid to learn something new about myself. I'm not afraid to keep listening to what you've learnt about yourself. I think, if you're interested, I'd like to keep doing that for the rest of our lives.

Yours, Julian S. Bashir

Calmly, he sets his PADD onto the cot that he calls a bed, in the shack that he calls a dwelling, on the plot of land that he calls a home. Cardassia. Dr. Bashir is on Cardassia. Dr. Bashir has been on Cardassia for six months and somehow he did not sense it the moment his boots touched Cardassian soil.

That feels suspect. Garak is suspicious. So suspicious that he dresses himself quickly, and if his fingers tremble as he fastens all the hidden clasps and buttons, he doesn't notice. He knows the clinic that Dr. Bashir has been working in, in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the poorest sector of the city, staffed by a mix of Federation optimists and unflinching Cardassian pessimists. He knows the clinic, he thinks while tying the laces of his boots. He's even read reports from the clinic. Did he not recognize his dear Doctor's words when he read them? Or has Dr. Bashir been trying to present him with a challenge, trying to make it difficult to root out his presence here among the other aid workers?

He just barely catches the skimmer heading towards that part of the city as it departs, flashing his government worker ID card as he hoists himself on board. The card isn't even fake. He hasn't needed falsified papers in close to a decade now, and it still feels strange, especially back here in the capitol. He's rarely been himself here, since he was a child.

He thinks about Bashir's words on the ride through the morning heat, the piquant smell of ozone filling the air. A dust storm is on it's way, followed by an electrical storm, and rain if they're lucky. There's not much luck to be had on Cardassia these days, and Garak blithely wonders if he's used up the planet's daily allotment already. He thinks about Bashir's words, turning them over and over again in his head like a piece of fabric before cutting it to a pattern. I've always hid the most important truths from myself, in order to most effectively conceal my deepest, darkest secrets.

Allowing the possibility of it all to settle over him, Garak thinks he understands what the Doctor is talking about.

The skimmer drops him off a block from the clinic and the small boarding house where its workers reside. As his feet carry him towards it, he realizes for the first time in his life, he's not certain what to say. He could bluster, or prevaricate, or quip. He's almost certain that the Doctor expects it, if he's expecting him at all.

A hundred yards from the boarding house, Garak sees a familiar figure with dark hair and tanned skin and long limbs sitting in a windowsill three stories up, looking out into the morning as he sips from a familiar blue mug.

And then the figure sees him, and smiles.

[anastasiaavd]

HUGE FBAA AND ASITE SPOILERS

I now present you my theory on the ✨prophecy✨

From the desperation of golden crowns and born of mortal flesh, a great primal power rises as the heir to the lands and seas, to the skies and all the realms. A shadow in the ember, a light in the flame, to become a fire in the flesh.

This is obviously Sera bc she was a mortal at first "born of mortal flesh". "desperation of golden crowns" in ASITE the realms were dying. "a great primal power rises as the heir to the lands and seas, to the skies and all the realms. A shadow in the ember" she became the primal of life bc she carried the last ember of life ok that was simple THEN things get real complicated + we know the second book of FAF (ASITE serie is named flesh and fire) is named a light in the flame.

When the stars fall from the night, the great mountains crumble into the seas, and old bones raise their swords beside the gods, the false one will be stripped from glory

This refers to whatever will happen in the next FAF books but at the end, "the false one" Kolis will be dispossessed of every tittle he ever had "stripped from glory" aka the glory of being the primal of life

until two born of the same misdeeds, born of the same great and Primal power in the mortal realm.

And then it’s a fcking shitshow I can’t comprehend wtf this is about. Bc I would be a 100% sure this is about Malec and Ires if it wasn’t for the following lines of the prophecy talking about DAUGHTERS. It just makes sm sense to me "two born of the same misdeeds, born of the same great and primal power" the twins are born from the primal of death who is supposed to be the primal of life but this tittle is now taken by a mortal : sera. + we know they were born in the mortal realm. Let’s forget everything I just said because we gotta think of the fact that those "two" are most likely girls cuz just after those lines we talk about daughters.

A first daughter, with blood full of fire, fated for the once-promised King. And the second daughter, with blood full of ash and ice, the other half of the future King.

So for this I have no ideas, except one of them gotta be poppy, most likely the second one. She’s the queen of flesh and fire but her blood might be "full of ash and ice" bc those books are all about contradiction AND it will just make her sm wiser and balanced + she IS "the other half of the future King" bc her and cas are heartmates. Against popular beliefs, I don’t think sera is the first daughter but if she were I won’t be THAT surprised. It’s just that yk she’d already done her part in the ASITE timeline and in the prophecy and don’t see her being mentioned as an equal to poppy.

Together, they will remake the realms as they usher in the end.

So ok these two will start something new, new peace new lands maybe new realms once everything is dealt w. YET I have a feeling that the first daughter will be BAD, maybe not always like just at the beginning, idk I really feel this is going to be a huge surprise and that maybe this character will go through a redemption or smt bc she has a "blood full of fire" and is literally said to be FATED, even worse, to a "ONCE-PROMISED king" idk but this sound bad and threatening and sorrowful.

And so it will begin with the last Chosen blood spilled, the great conspirator birthed from the flesh and fire of the Primals will awaken as the Harbinger and the Bringer of Death and Destruction to the lands gifted by the gods.

We will assume that this is all about poppy and that yes she is the "Harbinger and the Bringer of Death and Destruction" but not in THAT way. It won’t be just her loosing control of her powers and killing everyone from the realms.

Beware, for the end will come from the west to destroy the east and lay waste to all which lies between.

I think it will be NECESSARY to destroy the mortal realm to go somewhere else or something like that yk "usher in the end".

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

Various Feelings About ASIT Part 2: Soul of a Poet

As a continuation of the ideas of Garak and his sentimentality, Andy puts in a few suggestions in his book about what Garak might've become had he not been abused and moulded into the broken man he became (gooosh and I have emotions about how he several times refers to himself as “unfinished.”)

[excerpt from the book. To Dr. Bashir: I’m an unfinished man reassembling the pieces of a broken world, and I have asked you to be a witness because you would never judge me as harshly as I judge myself. You would never deny me the opportunity of a second chance]

(soul of a poet indeed)

Spoilers and long quotes, because they’re good fucking quotes!:

[Excerpt from the book. Palandine and Elim are sitting together, and get interrupted by Barkan: Palandine also introduced me to poetry, particularly the work of Maran Bry, who was notorious for being critical of the Bajoran occupation.

Ghosted light, coloured by the gas and

dust of the Corillion Nebula

Dances in my dreams and descends

like a shimmering wave

Where it fills the space between sleep and waking

And clothes my loneliness with your naked birth.

She opened her eyes and the light from the Blind Moon, the third and weakest in our system, reflected the excitement she felt in his poetry. At the moment I could have died and gone to the Hall of Memories if I’d been able to take this moment with me.

“Yes, ‘Solar Winds,’” a voice said behind me, so soft as to be almost unrecognisable. “I also enjoy his ‘Paean to Kunderah.’

The price they paid in blood is returned

by your healing kiss,

My matriarch, keeper of the mysteries and companion

To those heroes who stood between us

and eternal night.]

This part of the book also applies to the beginning of the little threesome of Garak, Palandine, and Barkan, before it all goes to hell. It’s an interesting dynamic in that the book never tells us to what extent Garak was being used (Palandine offers some explanation on her part, but even that might be taken with a grain of salt, since everyone is constantly lying).

I’ve got some more quotes on that, but suffice to say that the introduction to poetry is through a series of very passionate feelings that Garak has for the both of them. In some other world (I write this a lot) it’d be interesting how the three of them might’ve turned out if they weren’t so focused on agendas.

Garak’s other introduction to what I’ll call his “emotionally studies” is through his not-really-father-but-still-his-real-father-but-also-it’s-weird-because-the-plottwist-that-he’s-actually-his-uncle-and-his-mother-pretended-to-be-married to him - this on it’s own feels like a great traumatic experience, without all the stuff where his actual “father” is consistently abusing and eventually trying to kill him.

Tolan is however actually great.

[excerpt from the book. Tolan tells him about the ancient Hebitians and their religion: “At the festival, the poet would put the mask on before he’d recite. In this way, he was no longer Elim or Tolan or any of ‘us.’ He was a conduit... a connector who with the help of his poetry brought the higher power of Oralius down to those of us who were there... who wwanted this...” Father searched for a word.

“Encouragement?” I ventured.

“Yes.” Father was pleased with my interest.

“Was this your... ‘power,’ which makes the plants and flowers grow?”]

Cut off at the end, but basically Tolan’s really pleased that he’s asking. In this sense his interest in poetry is both linked with his sentimentality and need for connection and love - which he’s consistently not great at hiding - and his spiritual growth.

[excerpt from the book. Tolan is dying and speaks to Garak the last time he sees him: “Oh, my dear Elim. The soul of a poet, and look at you... your closed face... all those secrets... .” A spasm rippled through him like a sudden wind over still water. “Too many secrets... it’s like poison.” He brought his trembling, clawlike hand up to my face. “Too many secrets poison the soul.”]

The man Garak has become is anti-thetical to the man he’s more naturally drawn to being. (Dr. Parmak has a quote as well: “Poisonous pedagogy, Elim,” he replied.)

There’s also his love of gardening which he gets from Tolan, and then after he returns to Cardassia he starts building statues/monuments. By the end of this “story,” when he’s rebuilding himself and Cardassia, this all begins to mix together. Writing, spirituality, growing things, and building, is a way to see that he’s becoming a person he might feel at peace with, one day.

Sentimentality might have punished him in a past life, but in this one he has a second chance to be honest about who he is:

[Excerpt from the book: But I am getting on with my life. And oddly enough my home is somehow emblematic of my progress. It ends up being a true memorial to ila and Tain and Tolan, but the paradox is that I have never felt so free of their influence. Wherever I am along my fateline, Doctor, I no longer feel that my life is a reaction to the choices other people have made for me.

I live with my orchids, which have unified and softened the increasingly popular grounds in my home. Their beguiling blooms, and the presence of children who come to play among the structures (as I did in Tarlak), help to dispel the somber mood that initially hung like thos clouds of dust over our world. The sounds of their voices as they play function as a music that never fails to lighten my work. The children call it the “tailor’s grounds,” and the name has caught on. Yes, Doctor, I continue to work at my “new” profession. As you can imagine, there’s a good deal of mending to be done.]

Coming full-circle at the end he reconnects with that bud of spirituality that he was first introduced to through Palandine and later Tolan. So yes, he was broken, there is a great deal of sadness,regret, and guilt in this book, but in the end, he’s healing. And he’s extending that healing to others.

[excerpt from the book. Garak is at a Hebitian meeting: So, for the moment, I am satisfied to witness her spiritual growth... and to hear the echo of a lilting voice that long ago drew me out of my pain and self-pitc in the Bamarren training area.]

[excerpt from the book: I have expanded my shed in the never-ending quest to find my place. I feel that I’m getting closer, Doctor, especially as I continue to refine the structures. One, which began as a memorial to Tolan, has a crude but effective representation of the winged creature from the Hebitian sun disc - turned toward the radiating sun, reaching,struving, while the sun-fed filaments stream down from the body and connect with the bodies of people standing on a globe and looking up to the creature for this divine connection... I’ve attached the recitation mask he gave me to the creature’s face, and somehow it has become my personal totem.]