#v: let's sing our song to motherhood

[piristephes]

Other Gods and Their Epithets - Pan Continuing our series of posts where we explore the titles, domains and myths of deities, this time we focus on a very peculiar deity in his own right: Pan, the God of the wilderness, of shepherds and hunters.

Mostly described as a son of Hermes, Pan's motherhood varied among several possible ones: From the nymphs Dryope, Oeneis, Timbris and even Callisto or even the mortal Penelope, wife of Odysseus, with whom Hermes would have presented himself in the form of a ram.

His origin myths vary, but they say that his mother was scared when she had a half-goat, half-humanoid baby. Pan's appearance is described as that of a satyr, one of the daimones that inhabit the forest, famous for their fertility, love of festivities and for representing the wild aspect of nature alongside the nymphs. He is portrayed as a bearded satyr carrying a syrinx, a flute described as his creation. The God is said to have been received joyfully by everyone on Olympus, with Dionysus particularly taking a liking to him and taking him as part of his bacchic procession in other myths.

A deity associated with all pastoral life, Pan is described as a lover of bucolic life, responsible for the fertility of the natural world, many of his devotees dedicated offerings to him in favor of the multiplication of their herds, good hunting and good fishing. Pan was also associated with the sensations of terror that invaded travelers who crossed the wild world, with the God being capable of scaring anyone he wished away from his forest.

It is said that the poet Pindar made Pan dance to his music and for the blessings bestowed upon him, Pindar erected an altar for him.

Regarding his cult, Pan was mostly worshiped in the region of Arcadia, where Hermes also had a considerable cult. Caves and mountain places were closely associated with the cult of the Satyr-God. In the region of Athens, in Attica, Pan had a sanctuary at the foot of the Acropolis where he was honored annually with sacrifices and torch races after helping the Athenians in the war against the Persians.

Let us now look at the titles used to describe him.

Pan (Παν) - From ancient Greek, "All". It is the main name attributed to God. The origin of the name is debated, but in the Homeric Hymn to Pan it is related to the fact that all (pantes) the Gods rejoiced in his presence and laughter.

Cult epithets

Nomios (Νομιος) - of the pastures Agreus (Αγρευς) - Hunter Agrotas (Αγροτας) - Giver of pastures Forbas (Φορβας) - Terrifying One

These titles describe Pan's functions as a deity associated with the pastoral domain and the natural world par excellence. His other epithets also reinforce the broad character of the God-satyr, as a lover of mischief, celebration and his expansive aspect in the Wild World, on the mountains or in the sea.

Lyterios (Λυτηριος) - Liberator, epithet specifically applied after the God Pan freed the region of Trezena from a plague. Sinoeis (Σινοεις) - Mischievous Skoleitas (Σκολειτας) - Crooked One Akrorites (Ακρωριτης) - of Mount Acroria Haliplanktos (Ἁλιπλανκτος) - He who crosses the sea.

Pan was also called aegokêros, that is, he with goat's horns, to describe his condition as a satyr.

A very important deity for understanding the natural world, Pan is the divine protector of nature, a source of immense blessings and extremely important mysteries for life on earth.

May we honor Him in our communion with the natural world! We close this post with a fragment dedicated to Him:

Greek Lyric V Anonymous, Fragments 936 (Inscription from the shrine of Asclepius at Epidaurus) (trans. Campbell) (Greek lyric B.C.): "I sing of Pan, Nymphe-leader, darling of the Naiades, adornment of golden choruses, lord of winsome muse when he pours forth the god-inspired siren-song of the melodious syrinx, and stepping nimbly to the melody leaps down from shadowy caves, moving his all-shape body, fine dancer, fine of face, conspicuous with blond beard. To star-eyed Olympos goes the all-tune sound, sprinkling the company of the Olympian gods with immortal muse. All the earth and sea are mixed thanks to you, for you are the bulwark of all, oh ie Pan, Pan!"

Outros Deuses e Seus Epítetos - Pã

Continuando nossa série de postagens onde exploramos os títulos, domínios e mitos das deidades, dessa vez focamos em uma divindade bastante peculiar em seu próprio mérito: Pã, o Deus do mundo selvagem, dos pastores e caçadores.

Majoritariamente descrito como um filho de Hermes, Pã tem a maternidade variada entre diversas possíveis mais: Desde as ninfas Dríope, Oeneis, Tímbris e até Calisto ou mesmo a mortal Penélope, esposa de Odisseu, com a qual Hermes teria se apresentado na forma de um carneiro.

Os mitos de sua origem variam, mas relatam que sua mãe assustou-se ao ter um bebê meio-bode, meio-humanoide. A aparência de Pã é descrita como a de um sátiro, um dos daimones que habitam a floresta, famosos por sua fertilidade, amor por festividades e por representarem o aspecto selvagem da natureza ao lado das ninfas. Ele é retratado como um sátiro barbado portando uma siringe, uma flauta descrita como sua criação. É dito que o Deus foi recebido com alegria por todos no Olimpo, com Dionísio particularmente se afeiçoando a ele e tomando-o como parte de seu cortejo báquico em outros mitos.

Uma divindade associada a toda a vida pastoril, Pã é descrito como um amante da vida bucólica, responsável pela fertilidade do mundo natural, muitos de seus devotos dedicavam-no oferendas em prol de multiplicação de seus rebanhos, boas caçadas e boas pescas. A Pã também eram associadas as sensações de terror que invadiam viajantes que cruzavam o mundo selvagem, sendo o Deus capaz de afugentar quem bem desejasse longe de sua mata.

É dito que o poeta Píndaro fez Pã dançar ao som de sua música e pelas bênçãos a ele concedidas, Píndaro ergueu um altar para ele.

Em relação a seu culto, Pã era majoritariamente cultuado na região da Arcádia, onde Hermes também tinha considerável culto. Cavernas e locais montanheses eram bastante associados ao culto do Deus-sátiro. Na região de Atenas, na Ática, Pã tinha um santuário no sopé da Acrópole onde foi honrado anualmente com sacrifícios e corridas com tochas após ter auxiliado os atenienses na guerra contra os persas.

Observemos agora os títulos usados para descrevê-lo.

Pã (Παν) - Do grego antigo, "Tudo". É o principal nome atribuído ao Deus. A origem do nome é debatida, mas no Hino Homérico a Pã é relacionado ao fato de todos (pantes) os Deuses regozijarem sua presença e risada.

Epítetos de culto

Nomios (Νομιος) - Pastoril Agreus (Αγρευς) - Caçador Agrotas (Αγροτας) - dos Pastos Forbas (Φορβας) - Assustador

Estes títulos descrevem as funções de Pã como uma divindade associada ao domínio pastoril e ao mundo natural por excelência. Seus outros epítetos reforçam também o caráter amplo do Deus-sátiro, como um amante das travessuras, do festejo e de seu aspecto expansivo no Mundo Selvagem, sobre as montanhas ou mes no mar.

Lyterios (Λυτηριος) - Libertador, epíteto especificamente aplicado após o Deus Pã livrar a região de Trezena de uma praga. Sinoeis (Σινοεις) - Travesso Skoleitas (Σκολειτας) - Tortuoso Akrorites (Ακρωριτης) - do Monte Acrória Haliplanktos (Ἁλιπλανκτος) - Aquele que cruza o mar. Pã também era chamado aegokêros, ou seja, dos chifres de bode, para descrever sua condição de sátiro.

Uma divindade importantíssima para a compreensão do mundo natural, Pã é o divino protetor da natureza, fonte de bênçãos imensas e mistérios importantíssimos para a vivência sobre a terra.

Possamos honrá-lo em nossa comunhão com o mundo natural! Encerramos este post com um fragmento dedicado a ele:

[mamabarnes]

@thisisntabackalley said:  “You’re going to be fine. I promise.” //hiya!

“Of course I am, baby,” her voice is a little wheezy, the rasp in her chest evident. Winifred Barnes has always prided herself on being very healthy, rarely getting sick, if somewhat underfed (it’s always been more important to her that her children eat first). But this winter has knocked her for six, and for the first time in a long time, she’s found herself laid up in bed. Even sitting upright at the moment is enough to make her break a sweat, out of breath, and she knows her boy is worried, even as he reassures her.

[mydrug-is-dragonage]

Veda Adaar, A Letter from Home

The balcony off my room had great light in the morning. The sun shining through the clouds, the crisp mountain air, spring properly arrived and ready to melt into summer. My belly swelled, slowly but surely. No kicks or stirring, a growing bump where they said a child would be. I hid myself in long, flowing robes and oversized tunics. I spent most my days here, staring out the window, feeling the sun on my skin. I wondered if this was the feeling my parents missed, living in this cold land so far from their home. I sighed and looked out at the mountains, so calm with the wars ceased. The sky still bore the thin green scar.

The week after the healer confirmed the child, Lace came into my room with tea. “Hey, V.” I nodded and waved her in. She handed me the cup and we settled onto the sofa. The fire crackled, I pulled my robe closer around me and placed both hands on the warm cup. “I haven’t written the Divine yet,” she said.

“You haven’t written or you haven’t sent it?” I asked.

“Sent. I’ve written a draft,” she said.

“Do we have to send it now?”

“No,” she paused. Her eyes stared at the burning logs. “We will have to tell her soon, though.”

“I suppose we can get it over with. Not like it’ll get any easier,” I sighed. I took a sip of my tea. My hands stayed on the cup, the warmth passing through my palms.

“She’ll make it easier to keep this quiet, if that’s still what you want to do,” she said.

I swallowed and stared out, the sun setting, the chill of the mountains taking over. “I want to keep it quiet. I’ll tell a few friends, in time, but for now it needs to stay with only those we trust the most.”

She nodded. “Have you written your mother yet? We got another two letters from her this week.” I shook my head. “The Divine considers her trustworthy. She hasn’t betrayed any Inquisition secrets thus far.”

“I know,” I said, “I just don’t know how to tell her.” Lace tapped her feet. “Go on, you’ve got a mind full of something.”

“Veda, she loves you. She loved Bull. She’ll be thrilled.” I took another sip of my tea.

“She does love me. She did love Bull. She also loves my father and will certainly tell him,” I said. Lace started to speak, but I interrupted. “Pa never trusted him. He had his reasons, of course.”

“I think he’ll support you more than he hates Bull,” she said.

“You’ve met my father. Do you really believe that?”

“He’s a hardass, but he’s always been bolder in affection than hatred.” I nodded, took another sip of my tea.

“Lace, can you bring me a fresh candle and ink?” She nodded and went to fetch them. I settled into my desk.

Tama,

I’m sorry I haven’t written. Lace tells me she’d get you informed about the immediate developments. I’ll also admit I haven’t read your letters. I’m going to, I keep them in a safe place. I simply haven’t found the time or the gumption. For being so brave, I’m so afraid. I don’t know why. I’ve face dragons and magisters and time travel. I suppose the risk there is death. Dying never seemed as scary.

I remember the stories you told me of when you were a girl. A young apprentice baker, elbows deep in flour. You wanted to be a Tamassaran, raising the children, guiding their growth, comforting their hurts. I suppose it’s the closest thing to motherhood in Par Vollen. They didn’t let you into the priesthood, though. They didn’t let you raise the babies and cuddle them, tend to their wounds. They sent you to a small bakery near the sea. I remember the gull songs you’d sing to me as we wandered along the coastline of the Waking Sea.

Pa never told me the same stories you did. I pieced them together from stories you’d told me. Pa, part of the antaam, stopping by your bakery for bread in the morning. Pa, the good soldier, making jokes as you packed his rations You, the naughty the baker, sneaking him sweetened bread, baked with too much sugar. His hands lingering on yours too long in front of the baker. You two sitting on beach, the sea lapping the shore, your hands finding their way to each other’s again. When I got older and understood the Qun, I always wondered how you weren’t quaking with fear. To love, while not forbidden, was certainly not allowed like this.

When you fled, were you afraid? Crossing through Seheron and Tevinter, Pa joining mercenary companies to gain passage, did you regret it? Did you miss the calm of the bakery, the friends you left behind? Was he worth it? Was I worth it? Were you afraid?

I remember when you sent me off with my first company, an apprentice myself, unsure of the power in my fingertips. I remember Pa standing, arm around you. You held back your tears, but I saw your eyes well up, so afraid for your only child, your only daughter. You wanted more for me than mercenary companies, killing for my dinner. You sang from the Chant of Light, you warned me of magic, yet it came to me anyway, taking me away from you. The first letter I got from you started and ended with, “May the Maker guide you.”

He guided me through mountains and valleys, along the seas. I’d seen the Free Marches, Nevarra, Orlais, the South Western corner of the Anderfels, all while learning to protect myself from demons, manipulate the fade to bend to my very will. The best, of course, was when I’d come home, a year older, a head taller, hardly the child you’d sent away, still so far from real womanhood. You fussed over me so, made goat pies, asked about the places I’d been and the joy I’d found. When you went to bed, Pa and I sat outside, looking towards the sky, the moon so full and hungry. He took a sip of the wine you’d opened, offered me my first glass. He put his arm around me and pointed out constellations. He said something softly, the sounds still ringing in my ears, “We wanted better for you. We wanted safer for you.”

The first time you visited Skyhold, we’d stopped the demon army, but we hadn’t yet gone to Halamshiral to save the empress. You wore a simple cotton dress, you hair braided down your back. Pa put on his nice shirt, his horn caps. You looked so nervous around the nobility. They didn’t know what to make of you. The deafening whispers, everyone so curious about the new Qunari amongst the Inquisition. I heard you sing from some Canticle as you walked towards the throne, up towards my room.

I was scared then, too, my mission unfinished, the Magister still on the loose. When we got to my room you gave me the biggest hug. “My little girl has gone on to be something so much bigger!” You beamed, your own daughter the Herald of Andraste. Pa hugged me too. While I was pressed against him he whispered, “I’m happy you’re safe, for now.” Pa pulled away and glanced at my neck.

The dragon’s tooth was heavy. It rested against my skin, cool and smooth. He didn’t say anything, eyes stuck on the tooth. Your eyes were stuck on me, until Pa’s hand reached your back. Your gaze went where his rested. I can hear your voice now, the surpise and curiosity, “Veda, is that….” your voice trailed off, so Pa, forever your rock, finished for you, “A necklace of the Kadan.” He didn’t share your curiosity.

I said yes. No use in lying to you. I felt my heartbeat in my ears. Your eyes widened when you asked me, “Do you have a Kadan?” I nodded, so unsure and afraid. Not of my love. I knew I loved Bull. I hoped he loved me, but the two of you, seeing me in love with a man closer to your age than mine, a Ben Hassrath agent no less. You two joined me in Herald’s Rest, we found a small table in the corner upstairs. Pa drank a full ale before Bull came to join us. It was awkward, so painfully awkward. When Pa excused himself, I wanted to be sick when Bull said he’d take a walk with him. The men gone, us alone at the table. “He’s,” you thought so carefully about your words, “a lot of man.” I laughed and agreed. You asked if he made me happy.

He did. He made me so happy. He made me happy for years. He made me happy dancing at Halamshiral, he made me happy fighting dragons, he made happy in taverns and campsites, in castles and caves. He held my hand in carriages, he held me in cold storms. He took blows meant for me, he killed foes sent to strike me down. I saw the whole future, I saw the danger you and Pa had lived through. I knew we’d have troubles. I knew he’d be called away from me, but he was mine and he made me so happy, Tama. I couldn’t have loved him more.

I assume you know now what he did. Pa was right. Pa, despite walking with Bull, pulled me into a great big hug before he left. Again, he whispered in my ear, “He’ll never love you more than the Qun.” I shrugged him off. What did Pa know? He didn’t know Bull. He didn’t know me or our circumstances. I thought myself so grown then, barely nineteen, but the most powerful woman in the world. I loved Bull. Bull loved me. I was so sure Bull loved me.

I don’t know if love persists once we return to the Maker’s side. I don’t know if he even gets to return to the Maker. I don’t know what the Qun says happens we die. He obeyed the Qun. He did what the Qun demanded. If there is satisfaction to be had there, he’s earned it. At the cost of himself, at the cost of our love, at the cost of my dignity.

It’s been scarcely two months, his body left to rot near that dragon’s prison. I saw my love struck down before me. Cassandra delivered the killing blow, saving me the anguish of having to kill him myself. He’s dead, Tama. He’s gone. He’s gone forever and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to accept that he loved me and still did this. I don’t know how to accept that he never loved me and felt no guilt. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.

It’s been two months, I’m in Skyhold with Lace and the few others who stayed behind to serve what was the Inquisition. I’m no longer the Inquisitor, I’m no longer a fearsome fighter. I’m no longer someone’s Kadan. I’m just Veda. I’m just Veda and that’s all I’ll ever be. I’ll try to help stop Solas, but I won’t lead the charge. I can’t, not anymore. I’m going to be a glorified advisor, one-armed and tired. All that is so hard to write. Forgive the smudges. I’ve finally cried without violence and I don’t know how to accept any of this, but I do have something I have to tell you.

I’m no longer the Inquisitor, a Valo-Kas mercenary, a Knight Enchanter. But I’m still your daughter, and I’m going to be a mother.

Love,

Veda

Lace sent the raven to my mother, I sat down and finally read her letters, her usual, motherly concern filling each page. Father was doing well, a goat had twin kids. When she’d found out about Bull, the letter was longer. Words about love and loss, the way pain settles in our chest, proving our love mattered at all. Beautiful words, frustrating as they were comforting. I heard her and Thom ringing in my ears. I lounged on the sofa, my hands resting at my side, sometimes settling on the top of it. My stomach was warm and tight. Sometimes my fingers would wander towards my stomach, but I’d pull them away. The child would have to be acknowledged eventually. I would have to care for the child, provide for its needs. But I didn’t have to love it, caress its home. Not yet, not now.

Two weeks passed, visitors came and went, spring got brighter, the documents and plans seemed more convoluted. A sunny afternoon, Lace came to my room with two letters. “I thought you’d want this as soon as possible,” she said. I opened the first, smelled the pages. The light scent of lavender and smoke, the oils mother loved and the constant cooking.

Sweetling,

Asit tal-eb. It is to be. Maraas Kata. Nothing is ended.

Love,

Tama

I held the letter to my chest, weeping. So few words, yet they struck right into my heart. Asit tal-eb, what mother would say whenever we suffered and lost. One summer, before I’d come into my magic, Pa came home furious. He cursed and threw down his sword. They spoke in quick Qunlat, too fast for me to understand. Pa sat down and put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hand. Tama put her arms around his head, rested her head on his. She whispered, “Asit tal-eb,” over and over, stroking his hair. I put my doll aside, walked up beside them. Pa took an arm off Tama’s waist and pulled me into their embrace. She leaned up, dried her eyes, and squatted down to my height. “We’ve got to go, sweetling,” she said. Her voice calm despite it all.

“But I like it here! They’re not even mean at the Chantry!” I said, full of childlike fury.

“They won’t sell us the land,” Pa said. “So we can’t grow food for ourselves. We can’t raise animals of our own.” He sniffed and stared at the wall. His gaze moved down to me, little girl with little horns still budding. “We will try again. Find a new place we can stay. Asit tal-eb.”

I caught my breath and opened the next letter. Instead of my mother’s gentle writing, a harsher, sturdier hand had written it.

Imekari,

Your mother says you are having a child. This means we will be grandparents. I have never known a grandparent. Like parenthood, it is a concept we’ve stolen from the Bas. Regardless, I will inquire with the man who sells wheat what this entails. I presume we will love this child, just as we love you. The stories I’ve heard, being a grandparent is easier. That brings some joy.

I read the letter you sent your mother. I read it a few times. I lost count after seven. You’re not so wrong with your telling of me. I was in the antaam. I tried to make your mother laugh often. We did hold hands when we shouldn’t have. Due to your existence, you know we fled together, children ourselves. We chose love over duty. We abandoned the Qun.

I never told you of the walk Hissrad and I took the day we met. You were right. It was awkward. I hoped for a moment to compose myself. Perhaps find a man to hit me with a stick. Of course, Hissrad chose to join me. We walked along the battlements for some time. He was quiet, as I was quiet. We reached a corner and overlooked the endless mountains. I asked him about the necklace. Your mother and I had never told you of this. Kadans and necklaces of Kadans were a memory we left behind. It had to be his idea. He kept a blank face. I presume he was a very good Hissrad. After some contemplation, he said (translated for your sake), “I mentioned it off hand. We killed a dragon less than a week later. I thought we were just having fun, but she surprised me. She constantly surprises me.” I asked if he loved you. He said yes. I asked if he loved you as the Qunari he was or the Tal-Vashoth he pretended to be. He said (again, translated for your sake. You need to learn more Qunlat. The child should know Qunlat), “Both. I love her as the friend and companion I’d get to have in Par Vollen. I love her as a Tal-Vashoth would love whomever they chose.” When I asked about the Qun and when he’d be pulled back to Par Vollen, he gave meaningless answers. He’d spent too much time around bas, he’d forgotten how to talk to men like men.

Imekari, I was wrong. He’s dead. He died obeying orders. But, presuming this new imekari—Imekari II? Small imekari? Ari-imekari? I’ll discuss with Tama—was not of your planning, he broke the Qun. He knew how to control his seed. We all grow up knowing, waiting to be called for breeding. He made a choice. He violated the Qun.

He died Tal-Vashoth. I wish he had lived to fulfill that betrayal of the Qun. The child will come. Tama and I will come too, to discuss and guide. For now, I’ve enclosed something that gave me great comfort during our great suffering.

You’re still a Kadan. You’ve always been our Kadan.

Your Father,

Beres

Behind his letter there was another piece of paper. I opened it slowly, the creases deep and discolored. Inside was a drawing, crude, of a little house. Two Qunari stood, both smiling. The drawing was labeled, “This will be our house. This is where the goats will sleep. This is where the goats will chase the chickens. This is where Veda will play. This is where Tama will sing to Veda. This is where Pa will squeeze Veda on days the Maker didn’t bring kindness to school.” A smaller Qunari reached both hands up, a parent grabbing each hand. At the bottom, it said, “Home.”

I read and re-read the letter. When my hand drifted to my belly, I let it rest.

[lightsong-legacy]

A Sister’s Love

Casial was alone with her thoughts, after retrieving various gifts and now simply waiting for Thilianere to come join her for dinner. She was left with nothing but her thoughts. Usually the house would be fill with song and laughter, her birthday was the one day out of the year that Asphodel and her brothers would pretend to care for each other for her sake. Joining her for a night of music and food, yet...Instead the manor was filled with silence. There were no brothers to tease and torment her, there was no sister here to playfully defend her. It was just...Her and her thoughts. That is...Until she noticed a small box on her desk. The box was sealed by Asphodel’s signature purple and black edged ribbon.

She opened the box, a small letter placed on top of a vial of silvery looking liquid. 

My dearest Casial, I regret not being at your side on this day, but with your recent troubling news I found it best not to show my face. But, I wished to give you this. The best gift I could think of during these times. Drink this liquid and you shall see a memory of mine. One I feel you need right now. With all my love, Asp

The woman smiled a bit, taking the vial in hand. Asphodel was one who dealt with...Strange magics. But, to know she had not forgotten her on this day was enough to raise Casial’s spirits just a bit. She moved to lay in her bed, eyeing the vial for a moment before downing the contents as she was told. Within moments the confessor was placed into a deep trance, her breathing growing steady as if she was just asleep. Yet in her mind, a vivid scene played. “You are doing wonderfully my love...You are a pillar of strength. A shining example of the best of motherhood. A-” “She’s in the middle of labor Van’lioth. Do you not think those words can wait?”

‘Casial’ watched the scene with slight shock in the back of her mind. She was in an all too familiar room, that of her parents. She stood a bit away from the bed, watching the figures that surrounded it. There was her father, with his bright smile and comforting voice holding her mother’s hand. Her mother, though obviously in pain, doing her best to try to smile back at the love of her life. Beside the bed was her godfather Valorian Songheart and her godmother Lady Marilis Suncrest.

As she watched, she could hear her sister’s voice in her mind. ‘This is the day of your birth little bird.’ She whispered, using the nickname her mother once called her. ‘You will see a tradition here that sadly, our mother never taught to you. But, it is key of being a Lightsong. It is part of who you are.’

“In the middle of labor is the perfect time Marilis. I must remind my wife of her greatness.”Van’lioth defended, before going back to crooning to the golden haired elf. Marilias rolled her eyes, yet smirked over towards Valorian. “He is your best friend. You deal with him.” She teased, before moving off to get Lys something to drink. The lord moved to place a hand on Van’s shoulder, before kneeling by Lys’s head and smiling at the woman. “Would you prefer him to shut up? Or shall I help him regale you with more compliments?” He teased, drawing a laugh from the woman. “Light...I don’t think I could handle it from both of you. Might make me grow an e...e-ego.” The woman murmured out, her voice hitching as another contraction hit. “L-Light! Its time!” The last thing Casial saw before the memory shifted was Marilis running back into the room. She was back, standing closer to the bed now as Van’lioth held a small bundle in his hands. But, instead of the cooing and talking most would hear in the room with newborn, there was a gentle melody flowing through the air. Soon, her father began to sing.

(Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7egYKkIKqDs )

“May these words be the first to find your ears.The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here. “ He began, her mother than picking up on the melody and replacing his voice for a moment, Casial could hear the smile in the woman’s voice as she sang. “Though your eyes will need some time to adjust.To the overwhelming light surrounding us.” Her father picked up the melody again, hugging the infant closer. “I'll give you everything I have, I'll teach you everything I know. I promise I'll do better.” And again her mother joined his voice, leaning up a bit to brush her fingertips along the fine golden hair on the infant’s head. “I will always hold you close, But I will learn to let you go. I promise I'll do better.” Then the pair sang together, looking into each other’s eyes with such love and devotion. “We will soften every edge, We'll hold the world to its best. With every heartbeat we have left,we will defend your every breath. And we'll do better.” 

After that stanza, the infant was handed off to her godparents. Valorion’s gaze so gentle, even looking as if his eyes were brimming with tears. His voice was deeper than the other two, yet just as musical as he continued with their song. “Cause you are loved,You are loved more than you know. I hereby pledge all of my days to prove it so.” Marilis then added her voice to the melody, a soft alto as she smiled at the little girl. “Though your heart is far too young to realize, the unimaginable light you hold inside.” The pair then looked towards the parents, nodding before their gaze went back to the newborn. Marlis’s voice was the first to pick up the melody again. “I'll give you everything I have,I'll teach you everything I know.I promise I'll do better. I will always hold you close,But I will learn to let you go. I promise I'll do better. “She now allowed her voice to fade, Valorian lowering his head, as if staring the child in his eyes as he made his vow. “I will rearrange the stars, Pull them down to where you are. I promise I'll do better.With every heartbeat I have left,I'll defend your every breath,I promise I'll do better.”  As the song ended, the four adults began to smile and laugh as the newborn let out a slight sound that almost sounded like a coo. ‘You are a Lightsong Casial. No matter that you now rule over the Suncrest house or land. All Lightsongs are brought into this world with a song. We hold this song in our souls until the day we die. Though most who sang your song to you are gone, not all who heard it are. This is your song, this is the melody our mother wove into your very being. Never forget this moment, you were brought into this world with a glorious song. One of love and Light. Though it is dark now, you will always hold this Light.’

Casial came out of the memory, her face covered in tears as she stared into the darkness of her room. Her mother’s voice...Her father’s smile. It had been so long since she heard and saw them, that she had began to forget much to her horror. But now...Now Asphodel had shared this with her. Shared with her a fresh memory she could hold in her heart. “Thank you sister...Thank you.”Casial whispered into the darkness, knowing in her heart Asphodel would know what good she had done.

@voided-arrows

[devinsena]

8 Songs About The Horror Of Abortion From Various Perspectives

All around the world, music is used by people who wish to express themselves culturally and emotionally. There is a song for just about everything, and abortion is no exception. The music below reveals the horror of abortion through various perspectives from that of the preborn baby, to grieving parents who are regretting their abortion.

Miracle - Whitney Houston

“Thought I was lookin’ out for myself, now it seems the pain is all that I have gained.”

Whitney sings about the pain abortion brings about, and how “nothing should matter, not when love grows inside you.” Nothing can replace love.

Autobiography - Nicki Minaj

“To conceive you, then leave you, the concept alone seems evil. I'm trapped in my conscience. I adhered to the nonsense, listened to people who told me I wasn't ready for you. But how the – would they know what I was ready to do? And of course it wasn't your fault (no). It's like I feel you the air, I hear you saying 'Mommy don't cry, can't you see I'm right here?' (yes). I gotta let you know what you mean to me, when I'm sleeping, I see you in my dreams with me. Wish I could touch your little face, or just hold your little hand/ If it's part of God's plan maybe we can meet again.

Nicki sings of how she gave into the pressure she received from others who told her abortion was the best option. She explains how the experience haunts her conscience, asks her baby for forgiveness by saying “baby please forgive me, mommy was young” and expresses she regrets lost motherhood.

Happy Birthday - Flipsyde ft. Piper

“Happy Birthday, I love you, whoever you would have been.”

Flipsyde wishes his aborted child a happy birthday while pondering who his son would have became.

A Baby’s Prayer - Kathy Troccoli

“Forgive her Lord, she doesn’t know that You gave life to me.”

A preborn baby is talking to God about how he/she is speculating that his/her mother is going to have an abortion. He/she asks Jesus to comfort his/her mother and forgive her.

Let’s Get Out of Here - Blessid Union of Souls

“Can’t we just talk it over? Why does it have to end this way? It just seems I should have a say.”

This song tells the story of a preborn child interacting with his/her mother and trying to convince her to leave the abortion clinic.

Blue Eyes Like Janey’s - David Huff

“There’s been millions of innocent babies like ours that have already died.”

A post-abortive father reflects on the abortion he and his girlfriend had when they were teenagers and expresses his regret for the decision he made.

Beautiful Life - Trip Lee ft. V. Rose

“Beautiful life inside, living, moving, breathing.”

Trip Lee talks to parents considering abortion and attempts to help them recognize the blessing in disguise that is their precious baby.

Silent Cry - Robert Pierre

“Stand up, it’s time, listen to their silent cry.”

Robert Pierre sings about the “innocent lives [that] are broken right here everyday”, and how we must stand up for them.

Conclusion

Sad songs trigger emotion in many of us, but songs such as these reveal the pain brought about by abortion in addition to touching our hearts. They help us recognize abortion not only takes a life, but it damages others for years to come. Post-abortive parents may seek comfort in this music and be able to relate to the lyrics.

If you are a post-abortive parent and are seeking help, contact Human Defense Initiative on social media here, or call Exhale, the after abortion hotline at 1-866-439-4253. You are not alone.

source http://humandefense.com/8-songs-about-the-horror-of-abortion-from-various-perspectives/

[kurtty-drabbles]

Demon General au (motherhood)

N/A: everyone here has a major Mommy kinky and Kitty has a poly relationship with them, no cheating. Ficlet style because I really don´t want to do something big.

@djinmer4

When Kurt conquer his last goal there´s no more reason for him to remain in Genosha nor to go back to the Brimstone dimension. There´s some debate of where they could stay, in the end, they choose England(Kitty suspect that Kurt just wants to annoy Dr Strange since he now lives in England) and settle.

One thing that Kurt likes is his demonic roots, as Kitty calls, and often likes to wear the traditional clothiers from back home, more than that, he likes to see Kitty adjust to this new culture as well the others.

Niels is currently at the kitchen attempting to drink his milk. It was a failed attempted since she walks in. Kitty is wearing a white top with a V cut showing her cleavage, wearing a golden collar on her delicate neck(showing too much skin) and of course, she is wearing a female equivalent of loincloth.

Unlike what Kurt loves to joke, Niels has seen a naked woman before and have slept with them, however, none of them is like Kitty.

"Now, I know what you are thinking," Kitty said in good humour" Kurt did tell me that woman in his land, let´s call that, use that, and I think he was pulling my leg here, but, jokes on him I quite like the outfit," Kitty said and Niels nods wondering not innocent things. "Got milk?"

Then their hands intertwined as Kitty touches the milk, but before she drinks, the woman frowns and toss the milk away.

"Hey" Niels tries to convey any other emotion right now and failing. She is being way too alluring to pretend you care for the milk.

"Niels, this milk is overdue." And Niels realizes this fact(the smell and colour should give away if she hasn´t entered the kitchen) and watches the woman to make a sandwich.

"Do you want a sandwich?" she asked in a chipper tone and Niels nods. Then Kitty starts humming a melodic tone, it was a familiar song to Niels and seeing Kitty singing, wearing such outfit and at the same time making something for them does make the young blue man feel warm in a certain place.

__ Josephine just returns from her mission. The house was quiet as it should be since the blue lady arrives late, the mission wasn´t hard just a hazard and the boring mess she completes. Genosha would like to have Kitty and the others back by any means. Nocturne is always happy to teach a lesson of patience to them.

As she walks to her room desperately wanting to sleep. Kitty was there waiting for her. Kitty, wearing her nightgown and a happy smile on her face as her hand is touching her own belly.

It grows since Josephine last saw her. But Josephine was away for a few weeks.

"Welcome back, Josephine," Kitty said happily while still caress her belly "I was waiting for you! me and the baby, the little devil too, he won´t stop kicking" she said smiling so bright, actually, to Josephine she is glowing."He is going to be just like Kurt, oh, on the second thought, I hope he is a bit like me"

"Hi, Kitty," she said looking at her belly and licking her lips as Kitty initiate and finish a baby talk" mission was a boring thing," she said stepping closer to the pregnant woman."And I want to..." Josephine didn´t need to finish as Kitty opens her arms that were greedily accepted by Josephine.

Feeling Kitty´s body, especially in such form, is enough to break any cold from her body. For a moment, Nocturne wants to believe that the baby inside Kitty´s is Nocturne and that she can impregnate Kitty.

Maybe she truly can. There´s magic in this world after all.

At moment, all Nocturne wants is to feel Kitty in her arms and much more as long as possible. Later, Josephine can tell her father that the mission was a success.

__

Finally, Charles Pryde Wagner is born. A healthy blue and fuzzy baby. At moment, Kitty is rocking the baby, who much like her, only knows how to giggles in all the situations(a mother who smiles and laughs at the sight of her son is a rarity for some people) until his blue puny hands are trying to open her blouse.

"Oh no, you take after your father," she said smiling and shaking her head. Opening her blouse the baby start to sucking her milk in peace. Kitty has a sense of peace in doing that. Feeding her son and singing a lullaby it was the magic trick to make the small blue baby is asleep.

As the woman put her son on the cribble. She didn´t bother to turn on the light to know he is here.

"Kurt, invisibility does not work like that, the shadows can hide you, but I can still see you" Kitty explained amused by the father of her son doing that and that she does not bother with her blouse anymore.

Kurt steps in the most lighting part of the room. Kitty takes them outside so the little one can sleep in peace.

"May I drink?" Kurt asked breaking the silence.

"Are you asking permission to drink beer? Oh, I was joking earlier, beers are 100% allowed in this house" she said but her smiles die when Kurt shakes his head serious.

"I want to drink your milk" Kurt stated and Kitty wait to see if he was joking. Her Kurt has a unique sense of humour. "When I was little, no, just a newborn, my " he pauses at this moment with a disgusted face " the woman who gave birth to me tossed at the cliff. Father saved in the last minute"

Kitty´s mouth open and closes unsure of what to say.

"Father feed me with what Neypham drink and eat, never drink motherly milk" Kurt explained and for the first time Kitty knows him, this is the first time he is that vulnerable.

"Kurt," Kitty said touching his face gently " nature gives me this milk to feed our baby, but, I´m producing more milk than I thought." she said trailing off "Your son seems to like sucking my right breast, so, can you do with the left? and mind the fangs Kurt, I meant it, my breasts are very sensitive lately."

Kurt nods and wordless carry Kitty to their room. Put her on his lap and starts to suck her left breast greedily but minding his fangs. Kitty let her head down as Kurt continues his ministrations as the woman shameless moan(words of encouragement can do wonders). Ultimately, his moves stop.

But this is far from over. Kurt will make sure to show his appreciation to this gesture tonight.

[mamabarnes]

"I love you too, baby, lots and lots!" She grins. His little giggles never fail to brighten her day and his little cherubic smile has always been enough to lift her mood even at its darkest, "Tell you what, how about you go and pick out a storybook, and we can wait together?"

mamabarnes​:

He’s a live wire, her little boy, rarely sitting still, but she adores it, wouldn’t change it for the world, even as he drags his wet clothes along the floorboards. It’ll dry, she has no concern to that, and once he’s in dry clothes, she scoops him into her arms, pressing a kiss to his dark hair, “He’ll be over a little later on, it’s still early yet, my little bear.”

Another squeal escapes his lips, when she scoops him up, “Ah!” He giggles, “I love you mama. Okay fine fine. I can wait. But can I wait on the porch? Papa said the porch is ok to wait on right? I won’t get wet please mama! I don’t want him to be in the rain when Miss.Rogers brings him!”

[djzena]

Nursery Rhymes. HD Version With Subtitles

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Have you ever heard of P&G's Thank You Mother marketing campaign? Alphamom contributors are sharing motherhood recommendation on how mothers might be useful at particularly demanding instances (ahem, postpartum) times and encouraging you all to tell your mothers how much you respect them. Submit your story and you could possibly win $1,000 for a particular visit with your mom! Every month there are 15 winners. The contest runs by way of November 30.

There was no means around the cow, aside from to drive into a ditch subsequent to the driveway and Josh didn't need to danger breaking the car. Lastly, just a few steps away from the cow, he stopped and let the motor roar. When the animal nonetheless did not react Josh rigorously and properly-conscious that a diseased cow would possibly assault him with out warning, bought out of the car. He grabbed his toolbox from the again, then slowly walked across the automotive to go the animal from behind.

This fun crammed farmyard tale brings to life all the perfect beloved characters from the unique nursery rhyme along with a magical medley of video games, giggles and sing along songs together with Heads, Shoulders Knees and Toes, She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain and naturally Old MacDonald Had A Farm. So come and relive the delights of this most charming of tales told with a charming mixture of stay motion, puppetry and animation by one of many UK's main theatre companies.

Does Your Little one Like to Sing Nursery Rhymes? Then they're going to love Tea Time with https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUeMTbCh1d0 Tayla! Dad and mom of Babies and Toddlers use Tea Time with Tayla's instructional Videos to Teach Fundamental English Vocabulary and Ideas. Kindergarten, English & ESL Academics and Youngsters with Autism, Asperger's or Learning Disabilities corresponding to Delayed Speech have all discovered Tea Time with Tayla Videos a Nice Educating Useful resource to Enhance Young Learners' Improvement.

[northshorehealthandfitness]

the quote that changed my parenting mantra

Motherhood is a delicate balance between enjoying/savoring the moment, and getting sh*t done. When we were living in Tucson, for a few months before heading to Valdosta, I found myself more lost than usual in the scramble of work and kid to-dos. My pendulum swung far into work mode, with intense focus on all of the things I needed to complete in those three months.

We were in a temporary space with rented furniture, and 99% of our belongings were already in Georgia. We did the best we could to make it feel like *home* and Sunday nights included the entire family around our kitchen island, laughing and cooking together, while the cousins ran around playing. We had an amazing time with family and friends, celebrated Liv’s birthday, went on date nights, and I took awesome fitness classes with my Tucson friends. (I still miss Orangetheory, barre3, and (r)evolve.) It was such a fun and joyful time, but I found myself overwhelmed with anxiety about the upcoming move.

While spending time with our family and friends in Tucson was the greatest blessing, it was also a major tease. It was a borrowed life, and a reminder of our house in Tucson and the time when we actually got to live there. I found myself begging time to stretch, and hoping maybe they’d just forget about us in Tucson and we could stay there. (Doubtful, but a girl can dream.) I was sad to be leaving so soon, and overcome with the what-ifs and unknowns of moving back to Valdosta.

What if I didn’t like it, just like our last initial experience in V-town? (Spoiler: I don’t! Surprisingly, I love it.)

What if I couldn’t find a good school for Liv? (Thankfully, we found an excellent school. When I pick her up, she talks a mile a minute about her day, and looks forward to going each morning.)

What if it took a long time to make friends? (I feel like I was swooped up by the incredible V-town girls as soon as we got here.)

It just goes to show that worrying has no merit and things can often turn out so.much.better than we anticipate.

At the same time, foresight and patience have never been my virtues. I feel like the way things are now is the way they’ll be forever. It’s one of my many flaws, and a huge reason why I was so anxious while we were in Tucson.

Worry about the unknowns constantly lingered in the back of my mind, in addition to the great moving to-do list. I found myself living from day to day, from chore to chore, from task to task. Survival mode. Thankfully, we were all together, but life temporarily felt like a waiting game.

On the outside, I was watching the girls play at MyGym, smiling and laughing, but on the inside, I was thinking about what I was going to make for dinner, remembering we needed to do baths before getting ready for bed, wondering when the Pilot would be home from his night flight, and going through the mental checklist of things left to do for the move. (Book a hotel, rental car, pack the things we’d need immediately and begin to box the rest, purchase packing supplies, get plane tickets, sell the car, arrange furniture pick-up, etc.)

At night, I’d curl up in bed with a book on the Kindle, and use it as time to unwind before it all started again. While I was reading Chip and Joanna Gaines’ book, The Magnolia Story, I came across something that completely changed my mentality, and redirected my energy.

“I mean, that’s life. Life is never predictable. Life is never really manageable. If your mind-set is always, “I’m just surviving”, it seems to me that would wind up being the mind-set for the rest of your life. You’d just get stuck in it.”

― Joanna Gaines, The Magnolia Story

Here I was, in such an awesome place with people I love so dearly, and I was missing it. I was draining myself by wasting energy on circumstances that didn’t even exist. It was a huge distraction from something that’s incredible important to me: working hard to be a great mom to our babies. My parenting mantra became, “Thrive. Don’t survive.”

In the book, Joanna talks about her insanely busy life with four kids, a business (<— empire), and everything they have going on. She made the choice to thrive instead of merely surviving through the tasks at hand. She’s always been someone I greatly admire, and I definitely have some WWJD (What Would Joanna Do?) moments in my life. Needless to say, I took that part of the book to heart, especially because she seems like she has the whole mom-ming, life-ing, hustling thing DOWN.

It was a huge kick in the pants for me to be more present, and to seek out joy, even in the mundane moments. And I’m not thinking, “Yay, this is fun!” when you’re watching your small child throw an epic tantrum in the middle of a very fancy, and very quiet boutique. (Happened recently.) It’s taking a deep breath and seeking gratitude for what’s happening now, instead of constantly looking forward to the next chores or tasks we have to do. (Which as moms, it can be SO HARD.) For example, when they’re in the bathtub, we’ll sing funny made-up songs, make bubble beards, or I’ll enjoy watching them play while I browse through a magazine. Many times before, it’s been me sitting on the floor writing a grocery list while simultaneously thinking of something else.

“I always thought that the “thriving” would come when everything was perfect, and what I learned is that it’s actually down in the mess that things get good.” 

― Joanna Gaines, The Magnolia Story

(Photo: Lindsay Colson)

Since I read that book, I’ve felt so much more joyful and spontaneous as a mom. This summer was our best summer yet, and I think it’s because I let some of the tasks and to-dos slide in favor of afternoons swimming, random adventures, and ice cream on the way home. We still have boxes that need to be unpacked, but I think if we haven’t needed them yet, we might not need them at all.

We have regular childcare -in Tucson everything was on the fly, which often left me scrambling to finish work stuff- so that when I’m working, I’m working, and when I’m home, I’m home. I still get most of my work done either while the girls are at school (P goes to half-day preschool a couple of days a week) or at night when they’re sleeping. It’s amazing what it does for productivity levels when you have a solid block of time instead of quick blitzes throughout the day and playing catch-up at night.

I’m always learning, and always working to be a better version of myself. But, after I changed that mentality, I felt like a better mom. I was doing all of the same things, but enjoying it so much more. When I was constantly focused on what I had to do next, it often made me feel like I was failing.

I’d love to hear something you’ve learned or remembered in your parenting journey. What’s the best piece of parenting advice you’ve received?

Also, what do you do when your child is on their back screaming in a store? (Asking for a friend. It’s only happened once, but I want.. I mean, she wants to be prepared for next time.)

xo

G

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[mamabarnes]

@captainrogers-thepatriot liked for a starter

Winifred was still in shock as they returned home. To turn and look at the empty armchair where George had always sat broke her heart, and she had to swallow roughly to bite back the tears. Getting overly emotional wouldn’t do her any good now. George was gone, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had to remain strong for her family, look after them, let them grieve, and begin to figure out how best to feed a family of five without her husband’s wage. James was only sixteen, and Grace, the youngest, only six.

[mamabarnes]

@starshieldrogers liked for a starter

Winifred often liked to joke that although she had given birth to two sons (her beloved James, her eldest, and her sweet, sweet Matthew, who had been born asleep, and lord she never wanted to see a coffin that small ever again) but that she actually had three. Young Steven Rogers might not have been her son by blood, but he was as good as, and she knew that Sarah would say the same of her James. They were all but joined at the hip, and it never failed to make her smile to see the two of them running about the streets together.

When the door swung open at the usual time, she lifted her head from where she’d been baking, the baby on her hip, and smiled, “Wash your hands, boys, then you can have a cookie. Will you be staying for dinner tonight, Steve?” she called, watching as James all but tossed his schoolbag onto the hook and sprinted to the sink.

[mamabarnes]

@sanguinibus from here

She’s been busting to tell him all day, but she hasn’t had the chance, and now finally, the moment is presenting itself. It feels like nothing can get her down right now, not even the news they hear from day to day of the war waging in Europe. Those thoughts are far from her mind right now, because she’s young, so blissfully in love with her husband, and excitement trips through her at her news. She reaches for him, taking his hands and beaming as she guides them to her belly.

“I’m pregnant.”

[mamabarnes]

@assetbarnes continued from here

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she tries to protest, but even as she says them, the words die on her lips. It isn’t often that she’s seen her boy angry, but she can see the fury now in his eyes at what he’s seeing. She hadn’t intended for him to see, and it’s likely he wouldn’t have if she hadn’t rolled her sleeves up to wash the dishes, forgetting about the ugly bruising wrapping around her forearm, the shape far too reminiscent of a handprint to be anything but deliberate.

[mamabarnes]

@mrgeorgebarnes asked: "i didn’t mean the things i said."

She's just put James down for his afternoon nap, the toddler snuffling but going down without a fuss, when George comes back, and she pauses at hearing the soft spoken words. Any potential fight immediately seeps out of her. She doesn't like fighting with her husband, doesn't even like exchanging cross words with the man she loves. Tensions had run a little high...and well, they'd both said things they didn't mean.

"Me either."

[mamabarnes]

@therxdeemxr continued from here

“Thank you, sweetheart, that would be lovely,” Winnie smiled tiredly, reaching her free hand out to gently caress her son’s cheek, her other hand keeping the newest and youngest member of their family nestled against her chest, dozing away. It had been far from an easy pregnancy and delivery, and it had really taken it out of her, but it seemed her sweet boy was always willing to help.

[mamabarnes]

@sah1x1s liked for a starter

It’s a rough winter.

There’s a war raging in Europe, so they say, and there is talk that America may enter it in time. Winifred Barnes has been through this before, and the thought of history repeating itself terrifies her. She has lost her brother to the Great War, and if this war comes to their doorstep too, if it comes in the same way that the last had, her boy will be of prime age to be pulled into it, and she is afraid.

But she has no time to be afraid right now. She still has to keep her family going, though the harsh winter and the loss of her husband several years before has left things tight in regards to money. But Winifred Barnes has always been a fighter, and she doesn’t give up easily. 

That being said, the chill in the air has settled in her lungs, and she can’t quite help the hacking cough that shakes her shoulders as she scrubs her dishes, not even hearing the front door open.