#watchers pity us and give us the best luck ever

[gremnda]

plotting with @plumadot how our characters would be like in life series and well. basically we have luck on our side and nothing else LOL

still i drew us being badass bc i'm a sucker for people fighting side by side arts

[korkisobsessions]

The Oath

VI. The Storm

I´m sorry for late update. My kid didn´t want to sleep this week, so i was kind of busy :/ But this chapter is much longer so I hope you will forgive me :) Feel free to leave few words at the end, if you like it or nah :D 

Storm was coming. He heard thunder in the distance, but it was quickly approaching. He was walking back to infirmary with bowl of strong soup, when he saw Beom Pal. He was running towards him with unusual serious face.

“Something is happening.” He shouted.

Yeongshin put down soup for Nilah and took his trustful rifle.

“What is going on? Disease is back?” he light ignition cord and blow on it to heat it properly.

“No, it’s soldiers from Sangju. It looks like they are leaving.” They walked fast next to each other, but Beom Pal was slower. Yeongshin felt his guts twisted with bad feeling. He was almost in front of the infirmary when he heard loud voices. In one of them he recognized Nilah’s.

Sang-Ho was standing in the courtyard with Nilah facing him. She was leaned over crutch and lightly trembling. First few raindrops fell on pavement.

Captain of Sangju soldiers looked angry. “Nilah! Stop this!” He shouted at her making few steps closer, he was standing too close. “We are leaving in the morning!”

“I wanted to stay.” She spoke calmly. But Sang-Ho looked like she punched him in the guts.

“You are still soldier of Sangju and good soldiers follow orders!” He growl through clenched teeth.

“Then I’m probably bad soldier...”

Several things happened in that moment. Sang-Ho slapped Nilah hard across her face. She gasped and almost fell.

Beom Pal shrieked with shock.

Yeongshin point his rifle on Sang-Ho his heart beating fast. “Touch her again and you will lose that hand!” He growl menacingly.

Sang-Ho looked in his direction with disgust, and then back on Nilah. She was holding her red cheek with tears of betrayal in her eyes. Captain’s shoulders was raising and falling with heavy, angry breaths.

“It’s because of that chakho?” He pointed his finger on Yeongshin. “Is it? You want to leave your people again, because of that man?” Loud thunder thrilled walls of palace. It was raining and people were hiding in the buildings, except couple of nosy watchers. Yeongshin didn’t move. He was like statue still pointing on captain.

Nilah looked him in the eyes with fear. “I did not leave them, I was...” her voice was trembling. She was standing in the rain and looked lost.

“I know what you were doing.” He spat like venom. “You were protecting him...I heard you and Lord Ahn...But Ahn Hyun is dead, you don’t have to serve him anymore!” he had despise in his face.

“No, don’t...” Nilah made move forward pleading him.

“What is he talking about?” Yeongshin was confused. He slowly lowered his gun.

“Don’t you tell me, you thought that she was protecting you, just because she cared about you?” He was laughing cruelly.

Rain was cold on his skin but that words were colder. He felt like someone put dagger through his heart and twisting with it.

“Sang-Ho, please don’t.” Nilah was crying, making slow limping steps towards Yeongshin. Her face was full of pity. “Don’t listen to him. I will explain it.”

“She took the oath, that she will protect you. Lord Ahn made her swear it!” He was shouting, because the rain was heavy and loud. “She saved your life, but it wasn’t her free will.”

“Ahn Hyun wanted you to protect me?” Something ugly was boiling in his guts. It was painful and for a moment he thought he will throw up.

Nilah bow his head with shame. “Yes that is true. But that was just in the beginning.” She was trying to touch his hand, but he flinched.

He felt betrayed.

“Yeongshin please!” She pleaded with tears that were washed away with rain.

“I didn’t need protection!” He shouted at her like it was all her fault. She hunches her back, like he was the one who hit her. “He should protect people who needed protection! Not me! He betrayed his people in Sumang!” He felt angry tears in his eyes. He wiped them away and turned to leave.

“Please, don’t...I didn’t know, why he wanted that from me! He didn’t tell me why...please don’t go!” she catch his hand but he tear out his arm from her grasp. She looses her balance and fell to the ground with painful cry. For a moment he wanted to catch her and help her, but she hurt him so bad. He felt like there was huge bleeding wound in his chest.

“Stay away from me!” he whispered with broken voice and leave.

On his way he stopped next to Beom Pal and pushes something to his palm.

“Give Seo-Bi this one.”

Beom Pal looked to his palm with pain in his face. He never saw something so heart-breaking.

It was little wooden swallow.

He watched Yeongshin leaving through the gate and then he run to Nilah. She was siting on the ground with face in her hands, crying. Beom Pal carefully hugs her and helped her stand.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside and get some dry clothes.” He looked to her face and his heart stung. She looked like something inside her died. “And I will find Seo-Bi.” He adds when he saw blood soaking through her shirt on her side. She probably ripped her stitches when fall. “Let’s take care of you.”

 ~Sangju, one month ago ~

Dreadful feeling was twisting Nilah’s guts when she runs through field of tall grass.

Sun was gone.

Dark was coming.

Something terrible will happen.

She looked into Deok Sung’s eyes. They were scared too, maybe more, like he knew what is waiting for them. And it scared her to death.

She saw men ripped flesh out of other men. Blood and decay.

She stab man into the heart, but he keep fighting like nothing happened. She was terrified. He jumped on her and they both fell to the ground. She was trying to fight but he was too heavy. His skin was dark and eyes pale. He looked dead but wasn’t. He was trying to bite her to the neck and Nilah was struggling to get his bloody teeth away from her.

Suddenly there was a glimpse of blade and attacker’s head fell off. Deok Sung grab her by her shoulders and lifted her up.

“Cut of their heads!” he commands and threw himself back into the fight.

And then she saw them. One woman and four men were fighting against undead. One of them was clumsy still falling to the ground, but trying to protect fearless woman. Second man was wearing noble dress and was fighting with expensive sword. He had guard by his side. They looked like royal man and palace guard. Fourth man was fierce fighter. His moves were skilful and mortal.

They won. Lord Ahn then kneeled before the royal looking man and all soldiers including Nilah followed.

“It’s Prince Lee Chang.” Deok Sung whispered to her.

“And the others?” She can’t get eyes off that skilled fighter. He was standing aside, breathing fast and watching surrounding. He looked prepared for everything.

Deok Sung was watching the same man like Nilah. “I don’t know them.”

And she knows, he lied.

 After the return to the fortress she was still confused. What was that? She would swear that they were fighting against corpses. Against men who were dead...but still moving, still fighting, no matter how much she stabbed or cut them. Until they cut of their heads and burned their bodies.

And what scared her most was that Lord Ahn, Deok Sung and other soldiers knows how to fight them. Deok Sung wasn’t surprised when they saw them.

Nilah was wiping blood from her face when Sang-Ho touches her shoulder. He always found chance to touch her, even if he don’t have to.

“Lord Ahn wants to talk to you.”

“Me? Why?” She sleeked her uniform but it was unnecessary. She was covered in blood and filthy of ash and mud.

“I don’t know.” He wiped smudge of blood from her face. He was in love with her and she knows that. But Nilah not felt the same way. She liked him, but as friend. He always seems too hard, too merciless. Maybe it was because he remained her Harlan. His cruel and violent soul.

She smiled at him and took a long breath. “Wish me luck then.”

She walked through the door and came face to face with prince. He was leaving Lord Ahn’s room. She felt sympathy to this man. He was royal, but fight like one of the soldiers. He was really brave.

“Your highness...”she bow her head. For a moment their eyes met and his sadness hit her like wave. He was tired and looked so lonely it almost broke her heart. He nod to her and left to get some rest. At least she hoped he will.

Ahn Hyun was standing by the window watching courtyard. He looked much older than he really was. He was worried.

“My lord, you were looking for me?” Nilah bow her head. She felt more respect to Lord Ahn then to her own father. Her father enforced his respect by fear and violence. Lord Ahn by trust and justice.

He looked her in the eyes with so much sorrow, it scared her.

“Nilah. He came closer and laid hand on her shoulder. “You are only woman between my soldiers and jet, you are the bravest. Maybe not strongest, not best fighter, but you are bravest soul I ever met.”

“You are too kind my lord. I’m honoured to be one of your soldiers.” She smiled and felt ashamed, receiving such compliments dressed in so dirty clothes.

“You met crown Prince?” he sat by his table and pours two cups of water.

“Yes I did. He looked very tired.“ she gratefully accepts water. She still tasted ash in her mouth. Even though she was wearing mask, she still breathed the smoke from burning bodies.

“He came with companions. With Moo Yeong, his personal guard. With female healer from Jiyulheon and magistrate Beom Pal from Dongnae...”

Then he was silent and looked tired. Like something was on his mind.

“My lord...” She was nervous. She never saw him like this. Maybe just after the war...but He was after long fights, it was usual. “Is it about the last man he came with them? Should I keep an eye on him? Is he dangerous? You know him?...”

Lord Ahn stopped her with his lifted hand. “Too much questions Nilah and so little time.”

“I’m sorry my lord.” She bite her tongue.

“When we saved you and you became one of us, you swore to me, that you will do anything... I’m afraid I will need you to keep your promise.” It hurt him to give her such a burden to bear.

“I swore, and I will, no matter what it is.”

“I need you to do it, without questions. You will be confused, maybe angry, but you will do as I say. You swear?” He stood up and came to her. His face was face of commander, but his eyes were eyes of loving father.

And she trusted him. “I swear my lord.”

“I need you to protect that man. Be his secret guard. There are hard times before us, and I don’t know what will happen, but I need you to help him.”

He was right, she was confused, but nod. “I swear. I will protect him, with my life.”

“I’m not done yet. This man will probably want to kill me. You will let him, and he can’t be punished for it. I forbid you to avenge me.”

She was terrified. Her heart was beating like wings of scared bird. And tears were forming in her eyes. “What kind of Oath you made me to took my lord? What have you done?”

“I said no question. You must follow my order soldier.” His voice was suddenly cold like ice, but it was still him. Wise and righteous Ahn Hyun.

“I swear my lord, but it breaks my heart.” She pulled out little dagger and cut herself to tip of the finger. Across her heart she drew symbol he never saw. “On my blood.”

When she was leaving, she almost bumps into Sang-Ho, she thought he needed something to discuss with lord Ahn, but truth was, he was listening behind the door.

  ~o~

It was easy to find Lee Chang. Yeongshin was skilled and found him in a few days. He was already sitting by fire with Min Chi Rok, staring to the flames, tired as usual. Yeongshin come out from the dark shadows of the forest quietly like a ghost. Prince gripped his sword, but when he saw, who is coming, his face was full of relief.

“It’s you...” he breath out and sat back.

Yeongshin just nodded and sat with them.

“You are here sooner than I expected. Is everything alright?” He wanted to know all news from Palace, but Yeongshin didn’t want to talk at all. His stomach was like tight knot and felt like he is struggling to breath. Like he had a heavy stone on his chest.

“Soldiers were treat, fed and they are on their way back to Sangju.”

“That’s good news.” Chang throw little stick to the flames and look to him again. “Is it all? You look...”

“I’m sorry your highness, I’m a bit tired.” He laid down back to the fire and closed his eyes. He still herd her cry in his ears, like some curse. He was hurt, betrayed...heartbroken. He didn’t want to think about her, but when he closed his eyes, he saw her. When he fell asleep he dreamed about her. He never had a trouble to sleep in the forest, grass and soil was his usual bed, but this time he can’t. He felt cold inside, even though he lay close to fire.

He felt alone.

It was his personal rule when he became chakho. No strings attached! People often die and they left wounds that can’t be seen or treated.

And than he felt for this woman like fool. What he thought? Even if she was dressed and act like a soldier, she still was noble lady. How could he be so naive and thought that she will cared about him? About chakho, about outlaw who had nothing? What could he give her? He had no house, no fields. He had no family or village to return. He can give her just stupid wooden swallow.

He stood up maybe too harsh, because Lee Chang jerk and catch his sword.

“Sleep your highness. I will take a watch.” He whispered not to woke up snoring Min Chi Rok.

Prince was looking into his face with concerns. “You don’t look good. You should rest.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He took his rifle and disappeared in the dark.

Lee Chang followed him with his eyes until his silhouette was no longer visible. He doesn’t know this man well. But he trusted him like no one else. He proved to be very loyal and can be trusted. He knew that Moo Yeong would disagree, but where is his guard now?

But the man who returned from Hanyang wasn’t that man he saw last time. It was just shadow of the brave and strong hunter. Something happened to him. Last message he gets from Beom Pal was full of optimism so he thought everything in Palace goes well. But Yeongshin looked, like everyone just died. He must wait for Seo-Bi and he will see.

Yeongshin return when sun was coming up, with fresh water and news from nearest village. They were untouched by disease, but there were rumours that villages in the south struggle with attack of dead.

“Seo-Bi will meet us at Jiyulheon, she wanted to get some medical supplies and then we will travel north.”

 They travelled slowly, they don’t need to rush. Sun was merciful and days were warm enough to keep them calm. After what they had been through, cold was their enemy.

They choose paths near villages and listened to the rumours and gossips about disease, plague, or resurrection, anything that can bring back chaos.

Seo-Bi joined them near Jiyulheon, on the road to Dongnae. She was with two soldiers from Sangju which wanted to join them. They followed her to Jiyulheon and helped her to find things she will need. Diaries of physician Lee, tools and dried herbs.

Yeongshin was in one of the rooms, going through things they might need. He didn’t want to stay in Jiyulheon longer than was necessary. Be there and see the blood brings back bad memories. He was here twice and every time he left with dead bodies behind.

Seo-Bi was quiet, but he knew about her. She was standing at the door, watching him.

“She is back at Sangju. Safe.” Her voice was trembling with nervous.

He didn’t say anything, but held tighter grip on his pouch. Seo-Bi took his silence as a good sign and continued. “She gets bad fever on the way to Sangju. Her wound gets infected, we thought she will die, but she beat it. She is strong.”

He felt lump in his throat, when he imagined her siting in the cart on the road to Sangju, cold and weak.

“You were with her?” he whispered his back still facing Seo-Bi. He can’t look her in the eyes. She will recognize how much it hurts him. His stomach hurts and twisted he felt like he will throw up.

“Yes, I can’t let her go in such bad shape.”

He was silent again. Seo-Bi made few little steps towards him, like she was approaching wild animal. “She was calling you in feverish dreams.”

Finally he turned to face her too harsh, she almost yelp. His eyes glossy, but his face hard and cold as a stone. He pointed a finger on her and growled with tight voice “Don’t ever talk to me about her! I don’t care!” And with that, he left shaking Seo-Bi. He stormed to the forest to catch his breath and wiped tears away.

Seo-Bi was standing in the courtyard of the hospital watching the forest where Yeongshin disappeared with sadness. Beom Pal told her everything that happened in Palace. And she saw damage left on Nilah. She was always smiling, her face gentle and warm. But after Yeongshin left, she was like dead. Her smile disappeared and her eyes were empty. She loose will to heal.

“Something is wrong with him.” Came Lee Chang’s voice from behind. She didn’t noticed him and he scared her. “I think he is sick.” He came closer, to stand next to her watching the same spot like she did. “It’s possible, that worms survived and his body is...”

“It’s not that your highness.” She interrupted his theory.

“I think he’s in pain. I saw him holding his stomach or chest like it hurts him.” Lee Chang was really worried.

In the meantime Min Chi Rok joined them with serious face. “I know this disease.”

“What is it? Can you treat him?” he turned to Seo-Bi with hope, but she lower her eyes with sadness.

“No, your highness, we can’t help him”

“How so? What is it?” Lee Chang was scared. The idea of loosing another companion...another friend terrified him.

Min Chi Rok spoke and it surprised Chang.

“It’s broken heart, my lord.”

[scarmander]

Women, power and anger

An analysis of Game of Throne’s misogyny regarding Daenerys Targaryen in the last two seasons.

This is a very long rant. It’s over 4000 words. I needed to get this off my chest because it helps with my grieving process. 

A quick summary: I try to figure out when the show decided they wanted to go with the ‘Mad Queen’ bullshit theory. I try to undertand why they’ve done her so dirty lately. Spoiler alert. It’s not pretty.

So, if you want to know 

Game of Thrones has been known for its brutality, its shocking twists and deaths and ruthless scriptwriting. It is also known for having ‘strong’ female characters amidst broken journeys and fallen heroes. In a sea of raped, enslaved, prostituted and belittled women our female protagonists were born. From those patriarchaly imposed positions of subordination Daenerys Stormborn, Yara Greyjoy, Missandei of Naath, Brienne of Tarth, Sansa Stark and Arya Stark were hatched from the fossilized shells of the broken bodies and souls the male characters had made of them. They rose from their own ashes, time and time again, made themselves stronger with every blow men would throw their way. We watched them grow, evolve, fear, feel, fail and win for years, watched them become more than what their society wanted them to be, more than what they were allowed to be. They became rule-breakers, game changers, rulers and warriors. But that was until the show had decided that the end was coming and everything ought to be put back into order. The patriarchal one, that is.

It is my belief that everything changed the moment when Daenerys Targaryen, undoubtedly the most empowered and powerful woman on this show, decided to sail for Westeros with her fleet, three female allies (Yara Greyjoy, Ellaria Sand, Olenna Tyrell), the three dragons she had given birth to and the ‘largest army the world had ever seen’. Imagine the audacity of a woman accomplishing all of that. So, it is on this character that I will put my focus on, I’m also super fucking biased, but whatever, I would gladly do an entire essay on how they’re ruining every female character in this show. Anyway, back to Dany T. main female protagonist, the woman with the most amount of screen time (behind the two male protagonists Jon and Tyrion).

Let’s talk about the audience’s opinion of Daenerys. Truth be told, Daenerys’ influence and might as a character has already greatly surpassed the show’s realm, and that for a very long time. Even in the first seasons where she didn’t actually get that much screen time, she made a mark. And she has grown increasingly more so over the years. She has become an icon of pop culture to the point where people who are unfamiliar with the show recognize her. Now, this might have in part been facilitated by her peculiar looks and strange-sounding name, but Daenerys Targaryen is known worldwide for having power. She is primarily known for one thing: she has dragons. She’s the Dragon Queen, the Mother of Dragons. And those dragons are the physical representation of her inner strength. The only reason she has those dragons is because she walked into her husband’s funeral pyre and hatched them from stone like she hatched herself out of the stony shell of a weary, fearful teenage girl the world had forced her into being. And out of that pyre came out dragons and a woman with so much might the world watched in awe. Some people may call her Khaleesi, an unusual title which has stuck into people’s minds to the point where non-watchers recognize the title as her name. She is the most recognizable character in the show to the point where her hair colour has been a trend that has become every hair stylist’s worst nightmare, where people have named their children and pets after her and her title. She is also noticeably the show’s best marketing strategy, she is the one with the most personally dedicated amount of merchandising, and is relentlessly used by HBO’s marketing team to promote the show. But I digress. Sort of. The amount of power her character has both on and off-screen is indisputable and is probably what led us to the gigantic mess that has been season 8. She has too much power. Even away from the show’s narrative. She has had an impact on women. She has marked us, branded us with her might. And the show does not know how to handle this.

So, Daenerys, one of the most iconic female characters of this generation goes to Westeros. Unluckily for her, her arrival into Westeros also coincided into her arriving into the male protagonist’s territory. And that was the show’s last straw in deciding to let women have that much power. This is her fatal flaw, existing in the same realm as the male protagonist. The writers realized right then and there that they had greatly miscalculated. Because of how much power they had let Daenerys accumulate over the years she had spent far far away from the male protagonist’s character arc, she had become a threat to the sacred male character’s hero journey.  See, that’s the issue with having a strong female character that you let grow into her own power for 7 seasons, where she is free to go into conflict with men after men after men who all share the same unlucky traits: they are all both non-white and not the main male protagonist. So, Daenerys brings them all to their doom, they try to tackle her, try to diminish her, take her power away. They try, all of them, so many times. And they all inevitably fail. Because she is powerful. And men and women alike bow to her when they realize her might and her power. She is a goddess incarnate, dragons or not. She is so powerful fire dares not harm her. She is unique, mystical, mythical and strong. And not only is she powerful and strong, she is beloved by her people, her own soldiers follow her not out of fear but out of complete devotion, because she frees them, gives them the freedom she had wished someone would give her and finally realized she had to give to herself. She is a woman. She is their mother. She has power. She frees people, loves them, inspires them and has so much power the world shakes beneath her feet and fire fears her wrath.

And then comes season 7, along with Jon Snow, D&D, and Tyrion’s shitty battle plans. Whatever, it’s all one and the same. It’s all there to take her out piece by piece. That’s it, that’s been the show for two seasons now and I wish I had realized it earlier. I mean, I had my moments of realization here and there, but damn was I severely unprepared.

In Season 7 episode 2, Daenerys has a council made up of 4 women (Olenna, Ellaria, Yara, Missandei) and 3 men (Varys, Tyrion, Theon – and I’m only including Theon out of pity). By episode 3, Daenerys has 1 woman – Missandei, who unlike the other women does not advise her on military tactics – left in her council, and just as many men. Hell, by episode 5, she has gained three more men who ‘advise’, or more accurately question her every move. Jorah (I mean not you bby, come back to us), Jon and Davos, who is more of a comic relief personal pep-talker than anything else. But Varys and Tyrion’s advice grows like ivy and tries to strangle Daenerys from every angle. They try to control her more and more with every episode.

How the hell did I not notice right there and then where this was going? I don’t know, call me blinded by love.

How the hell did Daenerys end up with so few women left in her council? Men happened. The writers, the characters, all of them. That is literally the first thing they did to her storyline in season 7. It went something like this:

1) Get Daenerys to Dragonstone.

2) Get Ellaria and Yara out and destroy some of those ships, she has too many ships, that’s bad, can’t have her be too powerful.

3) Get Olenna out, but like, not at the exact same time because that would be too conspicuous, let’s wait another episode or two. Oh, and take out some of those Unsullied soldiers and even more of her fleet.

4) After one fucking badass battle let’s kill two random traitor assholes who have sided with the queen who murdered their former queen and daughter of their liege lord, their liege lord, their liege lord’s son and a good chunk of King’s Landing’s population on the field of battle who have refused her generous offer to get their titles and lands back if they just join her against the murderous queen. And also that one offer of going to the wall to protect the realm. They refuse. She kills them. Tough luck, bitch. Bad choice, should have probably offered them a cup of tea and a warm blanket instead as they went back to King’s Landing to fight you and kill your army at their nearest convenience. You fucked up because idk, Dickon was kinda hot I guess. Yeah and also they have names and one relative people know on the show, so that’s bad for you. Randyll and Dickon Tarly. You don’t know it yet, but this one is gonna be bad for you because you are now evil and your hand and his shitty bff are now saying you are mad. Maybe you should have been, maybe you should have killed them both too. If only. Sigh.

5) Have her lose a dragon. Give it to the Night King instead, she is too powerful.

6) Have her fall in love with the man who would bring her doom. Have her save his life. Have her think that maybe she deserves something good as she grieves her child’s death. They decide he’s the one who is going to kill her. Because having her become mad isn’t bad enough. She has to be killed by the one man she has let herself love not out of obligation but out of mutual admiration.

7) Make her promise to help defeat the Night King and go North to fight him.

Now, they take all that away from her. But they give her a love story with Jon Snow in return. And you think, alright, at least she’s not alone in this world.

And then we move on to season 8. The ultimate acceleration of events because they realized that they needed to wrap this shit up and that people didn’t hate her enough. So, Season 8 is where you learn that the plot twist to end them all was that Jon Snow was going to be the one who destroyed everything Daenerys has and is and will be the death of her. Groundbreaking work there. I wonder if GRRM has the same ending planned. So here’s the plan in Season 8:

1) Get Daenerys to WinterHell. Everyone is behaving like assholes. Bran is a cold little bitch who’s like “remember your dragon? Your dead dragon? He’s back and now he wants us all dead yayyy” and she has like zero seconds to process it because ‘we don’t have time for all this’. But you know what we have time for? Sansa hating her. The xenophobic MAGAs hating her. That’s valuable screentime. Sansa hates her for daring to bring her SoLdIeRs to her HoUsE and her DrAgOnS who she can’t believe are there to fight. Sansa brings up food issues when she knows the wall has been breached and the Night King is bound to arrive very shortly. She knows Daenerys isn’t going to stay here very long. Doesn’t matter. She (the writers) wants to be angry and petty and so she is. Because we couldn’t possibly have women collaborating on this show. Not after last season! Notice how they left out every single woman in Dany’s circle? Cause who would want THAT. Am I right MEN? I hope the meninists are having a good time.

2) Jon doesn’t comfort her much, doesn’t defend her much. He’s there. Like, he’s a physical man who barely says anything and is there. His purpose is to be… There, I guess. Good for him. He has everyone’s support anyway. He’s a man and he’s there. That’s all they ask of him. He’s not formally the King but he is the King anyway. He has the power. He makes the decisions. He’s a man.

3) Daenerys gives Jon access to her dragon. The one she gave metaphorical birth to. The one she walked into a pyre for. He has it. He has access to her power.

4) Jon now knows who he is. The man who tells him is that one relative of the family that Daenerys killed last season. He hates her. He tells Jon to take her throne, that it’s his anyway because he’s a man. He says that Daenerys is evil and should bend the knee to him. Jon then ignores Daenerys for at least an entire day while she has to face the man who killed her father, made her a homeless orphan on the run who lived on the streets, in fear, running away from assassins. She is angry but listens to a woman’s tale about him, asks for Jon’s opinion on the matter. She lets him have the decision.

5) The Night King comes. Daenerys’ armies are first in line and defend WinterHell with everything they have. Daenerys herself is first in line. Jon Snow wants to wait around. Daenerys has a sudden jolt of independence run through her spine, claims back her own authority and climbs on her dragon, burns as many wights as she can. Jon Snow follows her mechanically, like a lost puppy, gets attacked by the Night King and Viserion. This injures Rhaegal. Daenerys knocks evil Mr. Freeze down from HER precious bby boy and tries to burn him. It doesn’t work. She saves Jon’s life a second time in the process. And then a third, risking her and her dragon’s life for him. She ends up on the ground, with her oldest friend with a sword made of dragonglass and fights for her life. Her oldest friend dies in her arms.

6) And so it goes down from here.

This is the moment you’d think SOMEONE somewhere would show the tiniest fucking bit of sympathy, of gratitude. And they don’t.

What we got instead in Episode 4 was Daenerys being alone as Jon was being praised for her accomplishments. Jon falls upward as Daenerys faces consequences for her actions, good or bad, it doesn’t matter. Daenerys faces consequences because the show wants her to. She is alone. She begs Jon not to tell anyone about his ‘rightful claim’. He betrays her and tells his family. She has warned him Sansa can’t be trusted. Turns out Sansa can’t be trusted. And on it goes as Sansa, Tyrion and Varys plot behind her back to make sure that Jon falls upward for the uptenth time, Varys even going as far as to suggest killing her. His reason is that she is a woman and he can’t control her. That is Daenerys’ biggest crime on this show. And it won’t let her live it down. Hell, they’ll kill her for it. There is talk of a wedding between Jon and Daenerys. Somehow this is a bad idea because she is too strong and cannot be controlled.

She is too strong. Too much. Too powerful. That is Daenerys’ problem. She is too much and too much of a she. She is a dragon they cannot tame.

7) And just because she hasn’t had enough already they kill another one of her dragons for shock value, out of nowhere, with no purpose whatsoever but to show that they could. That she would be ‘mad’. That this somehow was the point of her character. It feels gross and unjustified.

8) And then, because why the fuck not at this point, fam, they go and execute Missandei. It has no purpose other than to show us that they put a former slave back into chains to kill her, to make Daenerys and Greyworm angry. That is what her life is worth. Her value will be the sum of two other character’s madness level.

And the countdown accelerates.

Let’s go back to when everything changed for Daenerys Targaryen. Let’s go back to Season 7, Episode 3. The moment where Daenerys Targaryen met with Jon Snow, hero extraordinaire, broody, rugged, manly and characteristically lacking of ambition. Jon Snow is a Bildungsroman’s wetdream of a protagonist. A poor little bastard boy hated and mistreated by his (semi-evil) stepmother who somehow rises to great heights despite everything adversity has thrown his way and who somehow ends up being the Chosen One to lead them all out of the darkness and to fight evil. Like Harry Potter, Frodo Baggins, King Arthur and countless other Christ-like figures before him, Jon Snow is good. That’s it, that’s all there is. That’s all you need to know about him, that’s all the story wants you to know about him. He is good. Sure he makes mistakes, but he’s good. He’s killed a child but he had his reasons, he killed a man begging for his life, but he had disobeyed him. He is good. And to top it all off, the lucky bastard just might happen to be a man. He is therefore the Chosen One. He is thus because he is He.

In Season 7, Episode 2 when Melisandre introduced to the audience the show’s own version of an Arthurian prophecy – Azor Ahai or: ‘the prince that was promised will bring the dawn’ – the show had its last inkling of an ability to pretend that they could somehow have a woman be a hero. Daenerys’ only female adviser and personal translator Missandei of Naath (a former slave they had captured and chained last episode just to kill her, in case you’d ever think the only woman of color in this show could die as a free woman) pointed out that that the High Valyrian word for ‘prince’ is genderless and that it could mean that Daenerys might also fit that prophecy. They also introduced the idea that BOTH Daenerys and Jon would play a role in this. I was fine with this. I thought all of their parallels from previous seasons meant that their fates were linked and that they would be two sides of the same coin.

If only the show had stopped right there. If only they hadn’t even tried to bring that up when they didn’t need to, when they didn’t even need to pretend to care. I’m wondering what the purpose of this line was. What was the meaning? A red herring? A last sliver of hope? Their last attempt at trying to pretend women mattered as more than canon fodder to further narratives, as more than bodies to be used and killed for entertainment’s purposes? It doesn’t matter. The very next episode sent off the ticking time bomb on Daenerys’ life.

In Season 7 Episode 3, Daenerys Targaryen met Jon Snow. The writers called it “A meeting of Ice and Fire” continuing on their claim that this is what the entire show had been leading up to, that even in Season 1, GRRM had told them that this was important, that the story was about these two characters coming together. I was pumped. I was rejoicing. The whole meaning of the show was right in front of me. And here’s how it happened: they made Daenerys look smug and entitled, having Jon Snow look humble and measured in comparison and when I watched it, I was taken aback, I didn’t understand what they were doing. I remember thinking that the way they were framing it looked weird because she was just as much of a protagonist as he was. I had been stupid enough to think the show could have a female protagonist when they already had a male protagonist.

The show wanted you to side with Jon Snow. The show wanted to make it clear that if you had to choose between Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow, you would choose Jon Snow. Humble, measured, naïve, male Jon Snow.

The ‘General Audience’ caught onto that. The moment Daenerys’ set her eyes on Jon Snow, she had lost. You should go and have a look on the comments of the Youtube videos of their first meeting. On that day, Daenerys was the villain. She lost that day, because she was in the man’s way. Because she spoke to him and didn’t bow. Because she stood there, fire and might, and didn’t let him take everything from her right on the spot. He was asking her to lay her entire life’s goals aside to help him with nothing in return. She was painted as arrogant for not bending to him and his will on the spot.

If only things had stayed that way. If only she’d stayed ‘arrogant’ and hadn’t let him close. Would she still become ‘mad’? Would she still lose it all anyway to make sure he would get it all in the end? Probably. Because why not? Why would the show give the most powerful woman any other outcome?

I guess the moral of this story is that women are only allowed to have power as long as it doesn’t interfere with a man’s ability to have more power than they do. And isn’t that what Varys has been telling us in the latest episode? That Daenerys and Jon would never be able to rule together because she was too strong for him and would bend him to her will? Because what could be worse than a strong woman having power? A strong woman potentially having power over a man. And so the ticking clock went off on Daenerys’ life. Her time has run out, because the show needs to have the male hero to win over everything, and if he can’t because a woman is in the way of the inherent inevitable male-centric greatness he will stumble and fall into reaching... Well then, it’s the woman’s fault and she angry and mad. So Daenerys will be mad and angry and hysterical and evil and he will kill her. Take that, woman she show tells you. Take that and die. We don’t need you when we have a male protagonist.

In a way, this show will end quite like the fairy tales warned us it would. The white knight, the Chosen One, the Prince that was promised, in his shining armour of goodness will swoop in and kill the evil dragon(Queen) to save the realm. And if this is a fairy tale then the dragon had it coming for daring to stand in the hero’s way. Perhaps the dragon ought to have apologized and stepped aside, perhaps the dragon ought to have known its place. Perhaps the fairy tale’s magic kingdom should have stopped the dragon’s rise before. And they did try. All of those men are knights, even the worst slavers of them all. Knights because they fought the dragon. They died trying to take her down. Perhaps they were right, then to try and defeat her. Perhaps it is sad, after all that the dragon took those poor men down. But it’s alright, the male protagonist will win. Because that’s what he does.

But if this is winning then why does it feel like rage and fire?

Because somehow the dragon is every woman. “You are a dragon” is what this show is telling me, as if that was a bad thing. “You are a dragon. You are too much. You ask too much. We will not bow to you, begone, be slain, you are in the man’s way. You are a hiccup in his rise to greatness. You will be killed prophetically and be swept aside and the hero, the man – the words somehow become synonymous – will inevitably win. And down you will go, defeated and broken. You and your might. You and your will. You and your power. Bow to us, woman, to our will, wishes, words and actions. Bow to us.”

The show wants me and you to know that. The show wants you to see what happens to women who stand in the way of men’s ascension to power, who are too powerful, who are too much for the story to handle. You are a dragon and you will die.

But dragons are fire made flesh risen from the ashes and dragons do not go down without a fight.

In a show that wants women to gaze adoringly at the male protagonists, women like Daenerys Targaryen have no place. They have no place because the show cannot fathom how someone could take her seriously, could value her efforts and her strengths when men are… There. That’s all they need to be.

And from that same patriarchal cesspool of a show/fictional society was also born Cersei Lannister, evil queen incarnate. She was the protagonists’ – male and female –  foil, their enemy, and she still is somehow, but she is also apparently doomed to be the female protagonist’s future. Cersei is evil because she has power. Cersei is bad because she is a madwoman. Cersei is all of your fairy tale’s evil spinsters. Cersei is in the way of a man’s greatness. And Cersei is Daenerys’ future as much as she is Sansa’s, or mine or yours. Bow down, women. Or be villains.

And so, in Season 8 Episode 4, as they tried to tear down at the last piece’s of the main female protagonist’s might they ignited the enraged fire that women try to swallow back down with every breath, for fear of being slain for having shown too much power and might. And the audience has never loved Daenerys more than it does now. The audience has done the unexpected. People who hated her now want her to burn the world down. People who already loved her have never wanted her to use her might as much as they do now.

“Dracarys” was Missandei’s last word. The show didn’t seem to realize it was a call to arms. “Women everywhere, join her and burn it down” seems to be the meaning the audience got from Missandei. I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment.

The show wants me to think that ‘Dracarys’ was meant to take down the Cerseis of the world. It didn’t realize it made me want to take it down.

Maybe the show is right, maybe I, too, am a dragon ready to be slain. But if that’s the case I’m not going down without burning everything to the ground. Try and take me down, assholes.

[hufflly-puffs]

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows

Chapter 1: The Dark Lord Ascending

Without checking, but I think this is the only book that I own that is dedicated to me. And well to everyone else, who stuck with Harry until the very end. It might be just a small thing, but I remember how much it meant to me, the first time I read Rowling’s dedication for her final book in the Potter series. Reading those books had felt like a long journey for me; read the first one with 11 and the last one with 18. Those books were my childhood/youth. And speaking of journeys: I started these chapter notes over a year ago, so this feels like another journey is ending soon.

We start the book again from an outsider POV, though with an omniscient narrator. The only other chapter written like that was “The Unbreakable Vow” (book 6, Chapter 2) and both chapters revolve around the Death Eaters, and especially Snape. Given the ambiguous nature of Snape, and that his true loyalty is meant to remain a secret almost until the end, it makes of course sense we don’t get to see inside Snape’s mind, don’t know what he is thinking or feeling. Rowling remains an observer in this chapter, never commenting the events.

What we get is a great insight of the hierarchy Voldemort has built around him. His followers live in constant fear of him and see each other as competition for his approval. The moment one of them fails, one of them shows only the slightest weakness, they all turn against him or her. They remind me of a group of school bullies, letting out their own fear and anger on someone weak, an easy target, although of course the Death Eaters are far more dangerous.

We can already learn so much from those first moments when Snape and Yaxley arrive; their first instinct is to attack each other before they recognise who the other one is. They are both anxious because they are late, knowing that only good news will justify their lateness. Yaxley even says he hopes Voldemort will be satisfied. Clearly his cult is built on fear and punishment and the constant need to do better than the others, to show no weakness, to be no failure.

“‘He always did himself well, Lucius. Peacocks …’ Yaxley thrust his wand back under his cloak with a snort.” – Ok, the fact that the Malfoys own a snow-white peacock is like something straight out of a fan fiction and how everyone imagined the Manor would look like, but that I never expected to be true.

“As their eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light they were drawn upwards to the strangest feature of the scene: an apparently unconscious human figure hanging upside-down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope, and reflected in the mirror and in the bare, polished surface of the table below. None of the people seated underneath this singular sight was looking at it except for a pale young man sitting almost directly below it. He seemed unable to prevent himself from glancing upwards every minute or so.” – I wonder if Draco did know who the woman was? Did she look familiar to him? Obviously he wouldn’t have taken Muggle Studies, but still she was a teacher at Hogwarts, so it is possible he recognized her. Draco’s behaviour shows a clear difference between him and the rest of the Death Eaters. The others know to show no interest in that woman, no curiosity, or perhaps even pity. This might not be the first time Voldemort brings a “guest” so they already know what will happen soon. Draco though had a hard course of reality check lately. He knows that Dumbledore was right in saying he is not a killer, knows that he is not as cruel and sadistic like the other Death Eaters, but also in what kind of danger this puts him and his family, because in the eyes of Voldemort this is a weakness. And by the way Voldemort taunts Lucius and Draco he is fully aware of that.

“‘Severus, here,’ said Voldemort, indicating the seat on his immediate right. ‘Yaxley – beside Dolohov.’ The two men took their allotted places. Most of the eyes around the table followed Snape and it was to him that Voldemort spoke first.” – It is very obvious that Snape is pretty high in this hierarchy. He is allowed to sit directly next to Voldemort, he is addressed first, and all the attention from the other Death Eaters is on him, because they know Voldemort favours Snape. Snape of course has been one of the most valuable spies, with access to the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore, and of course ultimately he is the one who killed Dumbledore. Of course for Dumbledore’s plan to succeed Voldemort needed to trust Snape and therefore Snape had to sacrifice almost everything. He needed to give Voldemort important information about the Order. It is possible Snape is the one who gave the Death Eaters information about Emmeline Vance, resulting in her death, sacrificing her for a greater plan. He now will give Voldemort the right information about the date Harry will leave the Dursleys, obviously putting Harry (and everyone else who tries to protect him) at risk. He has to in order to remain Voldemort’s most trusted follower; it is a very calculated risk.

“‘Saturday … at nightfall,’ repeated Voldemort. His red eyes fastened upon Snape’s black ones with such intensity that some of the watchers looked away, apparently fearful that they themselves would be scorched by the ferocity of the gaze. Snape, however, looked calmly back into Voldemort’s face and, after a moment or two, Voldemort’s lipless mouth curved into something like a smile. ‘Good. Very good. And this information comes –’ ‘From the source we discussed,’ said Snape.” – First of all we never learn who that source is. We later learn that Snape knew about the right date because Dumbledore (or rather his portrait) had told him, but I doubt he told Voldemort that, so he had to find someone else to present Voldemort as a reliable source. Second, short appreciation for the badass-Occlumens Snape is, never revealing to Voldemort his true motivation/loyalty.

Yaxley gives Voldemort a different date for Harry’s departure from the Dursleys, but it is obvious that Voldemort favours Snape and trusts his information more, or perhaps he thinks Snape’s source is more reliable than Yaxley’s. We also learn that the Death Eaters have by now infiltrated the Ministry of Magic and plan to overtake the Ministry. This will obviously give them much more control over the Wizarding World, as it gives them more tools of surveillance and the ability to change the law. Obviously Voldemort does not care if what he does is illegal, but it still makes a difference if you can rule your terror regime within the law. Fascist parties will always be more dangerous if they act legally, if their power is supported by the law they created. Because even though not everyone is as radical as Voldemort and the Death Eaters this new regime will have enough followers who share enough of the mindset of Voldemort to tag along. And yet Voldemort will never be in the open. He does not make himself Minister of Magic, but instead uses marionettes to do his work for him. He does not need to be in the open, because the whole time he is in the one in power. He knows that people fear him, but also the outright hate he creates. As long as he remains in the shadow people can silence their conscience because after all they don’t follow Voldemort.

Also, while Snape gives away the correct date of Harry’s departure (he has to for Voldemort to trust him) he does not reveal which member of the Order will take Harry in until his birthday. Of course it is possible he simply does not know, but maybe it is again calculated risk. Give away one vital information but keep another a secret. (And as we later learn, the plan to protect Harry – the seven Potters – came from Snape as well)

“Many of those sitting around Yaxley looked impressed; his neighbour, Dolohov, a man with a long, twisted face, clapped him on the back.” – Awww. I think this the closet kind of affection we will ever see between two Death Eaters.

“Again, Voldemort looked up at the slowly revolving body as he went on, ‘I shall attend to the boy in person. There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors, than to his triumphs.’ […]‘I have been careless, and so have been thwarted by luck and chance, those wreckers of all but the best laid plans. But I know better now. I understand those things that I did not understand before. I must be the one to kill Harry Potter, and I shall be.’” – It is interesting that Voldemort blames himself, that he makes his own errors responsible for the fact that Harry still lives. But obviously the only reason why he would admit failure is to lessen Harry’s impact. Harry did not survive because he might be the better wizard, because he has powers Voldemort does not, but simply because Voldemort made mistakes. The only way he could survive was because Voldemort had been careless. There is no other way Voldemort can explain to himself why Harry is still alive, a teenage boy who is not even fully educated compared to the greatest wizard of all time. It seems like Voldemort by now has heard the full prophecy (perhaps Snape told him, because by now it does no longer make a difference), because he insists he is the one to kill Harry. But it also seems like he ignores the part where the prophecy says Harry has a power Voldemort does not know about, because to Voldemort that simply is not possible.

“The faces around him displayed nothing but shock; he might have announced that he wanted to borrow one of their arms. ‘No volunteers?’ said Voldemort. ‘Let’s see … Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand any more.’” – A lot of book 7 revolves around wand lore, the importance of a wand and the ownership of a wand and how it can change. It is very obvious that none of the Death Eaters wants to give away their wand voluntary – without a wand you are defenceless, powerless, in short no longer a wizard. Demanding Lucius’s wand is the ultimate humiliation for him. Voldemort insists Lucius has no longer a need for a wand, therefore saying he no longer sees him as a wizard – he is worthless. The low standing of the Malfoy family is symbolized by the fact that during the following year they will all lose their wand (Lucius’s wand is destroyed, Draco’s taken by Harry and Narcissa gives hers to her son).

“Malfoy glanced sideways at his wife. She was staring straight ahead, quite as pale as he was, her long, blonde hair hanging down her back, but beneath the table her slim fingers closed briefly on his wrist. At her touch, Malfoy put his hand into his robes, withdrew a wand and passed it along to Voldemort, who held it up in front of his red eyes, examining it closely.” – Let’s be clear here: Narcissa is without a doubt the strongest, most capable of the Malfoys. She is the one holding this family together. She will be the one who has ultimately the nerve to lie to Voldemort just to save her son. We stan.

“‘I have given you your liberty, Lucius, is that not enough for you? But I have noticed that you and your family seem less than happy of late … what is it about my presence in your home that displeases you, Lucius?’” – I think Dumbledore was right in assuming Lucius was safer in Azkaban than he is now, even though he is free. Using the Manor as a base is yet another punishment for the Malfoys. And I always liked the fan fics who would later explore the idea of Draco being unable to return home because of what happened there, how tainted the place became he had once called home.

“She sat beside her sister, as unlike her in looks, with her dark hair and heavily lidded eyes, as she was in bearing and demeanour; where Narcissa sat rigid and impassive, Bellatrix leaned towards Voldemort, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness.” – I don’t think it has ever been addressed if Narcissa had been a Death Eater as well, but I don’t think so. Of course both her husband and her son are, so she is in this mess as well regardless. But while she shares the thought that Muggleborn wizards and witches do not belong in the Wizarding World, she has never been as devoted as her sister. She only cares about the well-being of her family, especially her son, and she does not care on what side she has to be in order to protect him.

“There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation. Bellatrix’s face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.” – As I said, the Death Eaters use every opportunity to turn against one of their own, the weakest link, the easiest victim. And especially Bellatrix used to brag about how close she is to Voldemort, how deep her devotion is, so to see her humiliated by Voldemort himself is greeted with a lot of spite and malice.

“‘What say you, Draco?’ asked Voldemort, and though his voice was quiet, it carried clearly through the catcalls and jeers. ‘Will you babysit the cubs?’” – I admit I have a soft spot for fan fics where Harry and Draco babysit Teddy together. And I do wonder if after the war Draco had contact with Andromeda and Teddy, and Narcissa as well, trying to heal some old wounds.

“‘Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time,’ he said, as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring. ‘You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.’ ‘Yes, my Lord,’ whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. ‘At the first chance!’” – And this is the reason why Bellatrix became so obsessed with the idea of killing Tonks. She makes her responsible for her falling out with Voldemort, believing that if she cuts away the rotten part of her family she can redeem herself.

“Charity Burbage revolved to face Snape again. ‘Severus … please … please …’” – Which of course are the exact same last words Dumbledore said to Snape.

“‘Silence,’ said Voldemort, with another twitch of Malfoy’s wand, and Charity fell silent as if gagged. ‘Not content with corrupting and polluting polluting the minds of wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defence of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the pure-bloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance … she would have us all mate with Muggles … or, no doubt, werewolves …’” – Isn’t it fascinating to listen to those words, knowing that Voldemort’s mother ‘mated’ with a Muggle, that Voldemort himself grew up like a Muggle, so he as well ‘stole’ knowledge. Yes, he is the heir of Slytherin, but he did not grow up in a wizarding family, he did not know about the Wizarding World until he attended Hogwarts, he is more familiar with the Muggle world than all those pureblood wizards sitting at his table. Following his own thoughts he himself would not have to right to be part of the Wizarding World.

[queen-scribbles]

Steady

For @pillarspromptsweekly fill 71: Celebrate. Only proofread once because I have several other projects on a very rapidly approaching deadline (*cough* Christmas presents *cough*), so hopefully I caught everything. This is set the day after Shallow, but I think you could manage without having read that. 

Emiri was dragged awake long before she was ready by a kaleidoscope of memories--voices, images, emotions--that she didn’t even want. She sat up, breathing hard, and buried her face in her hands while she waited for her heart to slow down.

You’re in Stalwart, she reminded herself. Not... wherever that was. One hand dropped to rub the furs for a tangible reminder. Her past life’s surroundings had been far more austere and dour than the woodsy comfort of the Gréf’s Rest.

Once she had settled, Emiri looked toward the window and scowled. After yesterday, she had been dearly hoping to sleep in. No such luck--the view outside was just starting to lighten, a pale pink glow creeping in one corner of the window. From the look of things, all her friends were still asleep as well.

So, grumbling to herself, Emiri slid out of bed. The Awakened part of her hovered too close to the surface for her to hope she’d actually stay asleep if she tried again. A pity; their adventure in Cayron’s Scar had wrung her out both emotionally and otherwise. More sleep would have been nice. But she had plenty of experience running on less than she needed. Rather then dwell on it, Emiri steadied herself against the wall to pull on her boots and then headed out to talk to Haeferic.

The tavern part of the establishment was far busier than she would have expected, given the early hour. Emiri wove her way between kith until she reached the counter and caught Haeferic’s attention.

“Ah, Watcher, you’re up early!” the dwarf greeted her with a smile.

“Not by choice,” Emiri replied, shrugging gamely. She gestured to the bustling workers. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Winter’s End,” Haeferic said, pausing briefly to direct a man carrying a cask toward the inn’s cellar. “We weren’t figurin’ on havin’ much cause to celebrate this year, what with those Iron Flail bastards practically on our doorstep.” He winked at her. “Impending doom has a way of dampening people’s spirits. But since you chased ‘em off and they ain’t a threat no more, Mayor Tarfos decided it would be good to hold the celebrations like normal. Give folks a chance to blow off steam.”

“Smart man,” Emiri said with a laugh. “So...” She hesitated. “I haven’t been in the Dyrwood long. What all’s involved in Winter’s End?”

“Drinkin’ and eatin’ and rememberin’ those we lost that year mostly.” Haeferic scratched behind his ear. “You should stick around, see for yourself. ‘Course, out here it’s more symbolic than anything. The snow don’t melt here like in other parts, and it sure as shit ain’t gonna warm up any time soon.” He smirked. “Still, any excuse for a three day party party is a good one.”

She smiled at his enthusiasm and shrugged. “We might just do that. Things were more... exciting yesterday than we bargained for, so more time to recover is probably a good idea. And it sounds fun.” It would also give more time for Hiravias’ knee to heal, and for Aloth to warm up before they went traveling through waist-deep snow to get home.

“Oh, it is that, Watcher,” Haeferic laughed. “It is most definitely that. But I imagine y’had another purpose in mind, comin’ out this early in the mornin’?” What can I do for ya?”

“Breakfast.” Emiri said, slightly scattered. “Please. For the six of us, something warm and filling.” She looked him dead in the eye. “The best you’ve got.”

He nodded, clearly getting the message. “When d’you need it?”

“In a couple hours, I guess,” she said, biting her lip. Hopefully her friends wouldn’t be rudely awakened by nightmares and could get a decent bit of sleep.  “Yes, two hours should be good. More or less.”

Haeferic chuckled. “That’ll run you... three hundred fifty pands.”

“Sounds fair,” Emiri nodded. “Add it to my tab?”

“Of course.” He gave a sharp nod. “Need anything else? If not, I need t’ get back to supervisin’ preparations.”

“Nope, go right ahead. I’m sure things are a bit crazy, with it being a last minute decision and all.”

Bobbing his head in both confirmation and gratitude, Haeferic swiveled back to barking directions into the milling crowd of workers. Emiri watched for a minute or two before heading back to her room. She didn’t hear anyone moving around as she approached, and so was very careful to be quiet as she slipped back in. The room was still dark, the fire banked to low embers. A quick glance towards the beds confirmed most of her friends were sleeping.

The one exception was Kana. He sat at the table, positioned so his body blocked the rest of the room from the light of his candle as he rapidly filled the pages of a spare blank book.

“Surprised to see you up,” Emiri commented.

Kana turned and flashed her a toothy smile. “There’s too much to write down. I was afraid I’d forget parts if I waited much longer. We learned so much; about Ondra, Abydon, the Engwithans. Such knowledge is worthy of preservation.”

Emiri nodded as she walked over to sit across from him. “That it is.”

A moment passed, her picking at her bracelets, Kana rolling his pen between thumb and index finger, heedless of the ink it flicked along his sleeve.

He spoke finally, softly, as he set down the pen. “Why do I feel what has you up at this hour is far less benign?”

She sighed, looked at the table instead of him as she answered. “...It’s the dreams again.”

Kana wordlessly reached over and covered her hand with his. His fingers smudged ink against her skin as he gave a gentle squeeze. Emiri’s face warmed and her halo flickered brighter at his silent support.

“I feel I owe you an apology,” Kana said softly. He rolled on before she could protest. “The other day, when I asked about you being a Watcher, I fear I may have been... rather tactless.  I didn’t really understand what was involved. Is it hard on you, hearing the spirits all the time?”

Yes. But she didn’t want to burden him, and definitely didn’t want to ruin a moment that involved Kana holding her hand, so Emiri hunched her shoulders in a not-quite shrug and mumbled, “It can get a little overwhelming.”

Kana cocked his head, eyes narrowing, and squeezed her hand again. “You needn’t soften your words on my account, Emiri, if it ever gets to be too much. We’ll find the means to cure you. You’ve my word on that.”

Alright, the past three minutes alone are worth the lost hours of sleep. Emiri ducked her head. It was a futile gesture, with how her halo glowed. She wasn’t hiding anything. “I... thank you, Kana.” She shifted her hand so she could squeeze back. “I appreciate it, truly. And you weren’t being tactless, you were being curious.” You were being you. “I didn’t mind.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Kana said, giving her another smile, more serious but somehow more honest than the one a few minutes ago. “If I ever do overstep, please tell me.”

Emiri nodded, fully aware there wasn’t much he could do she would consider overstepping. “You, um, you should finish writing. Before everyone wakes up and there are distractions.”

“A sound plan,” Kana agreed. He withdrew his hand, picked up the pen, and returned to his writing, filling page after page with rapid but mostly-legible script.

Emiri dug in her pocket until she came up with enough thread--white, pale blue, dark grey--to start a new bracelet, then settled in to pass the time until the others awoke in companionable silence.

>>><<<

Hiravias was the next one awake, nearly an hour and a half hour later, popping up with a growled curse as he rubbed out a cramp in his leg.” Hound’s teeth, that’s a lousy good morning,” he grumbled. “’Specially since that’s the same one got fucked up yesterday.”

Emiri winced in sympathy. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He shrugged and winked at her. “In fact, you’re the reason more of me didn’t get hit by falling rocks, so you really don’t need to apologize.” He limped over and boosted himself into the very much not orlan-sized chair. “So do we have a plan for food or anything, Watcher?”

Emiri laughed. “I talked to Haeferic when I got up. Food should only be another half hour or so. And I paid for the good stuff, but we’ve seen how that can vary by location, so... we’ll see.”

Hiravias grinned and ruffled one hand through his hair, somehow leaving it a worse mess than it had been previously. “Sounds good. I guess I can hold out that long. And you know I’ll eat anything, but ‘good stuff’ does sound appealing today.”

The food did indeed arrive as predicted, and smelled so good it dragged the other three out of bad, though Aloth and Pallegina didn’t look truly awake until halfway through their first cup of tea.

Haeferic hadn’t been kidding when he promised her the best he had. Emiri wondered if anyone else in Stalwart--including the mayor--was eating this well. But it was good to have a meal that was actually satisfying and filling and made her feel warm inside after so long trekking all over the White March eating jerky. It was even better sharing it with her friends(who were all still here, despite Ondra’s best efforts).

“So, what’s the plan? Miri?” Edér asked once they’d all eaten their fil.

“I know stopping Thaos is important,” she began, playing with the bracelet she’d made. “But I feel like another day or two to rest would be good. For some of us” --she nudged Aloth’s knee under the table and shot Hiravias a meaningful look--”more than others.”

“I like this plan,” Hiravias chipped in. “But what’re we supposed to do while we’re here?”

“I did mention rest,” Emiri emphasized, looking him dead in the eye. “Which is probably an especially good idea with that knee of yours, before we go tromping down a mountain through waist-deep snow.”

“I see your point,” he said, idly snapping the strap to his eyepatch. “Anything to avoid more piggyback rides. But what if the thought of being stuck in here makes me itchy and I want to take it easy somewhere else? Does this... charming place have anything interesting to offer?”

“Funny you should ask that,” she said, laughing. “They are getting ready to start some festival...”

“Winter’s End!” Edér interrupted with a grin. “I’ll be damned, how’d I forget about that?”

“We have been roaming all over the frigid mountainside for the last several days, ac?” Pallegina pointed out. “I believe you can be forgiven for losing track of the date.”

“Right kind of you,” Edér shot back, slouching more comfortably in his chair. “But really, there ain’t no party in the Dyrwood like Winter’s End. It’ll be fun, even if they are throwin’ it together all last-minute.”

With that ringing endorsement from a local(or local-adjacent), the plan was all but settled. Emiri did notice, however, that Aloth seemed less enthused than the others. That was hardly surprising.

She leaned close and murmured, “I know how you are about big, loud parties. Feel free to stay here with a book or something if you’d rather.”

He half-smiled and twisted one of his rings, something like relief glimmering in his eyes. “That was my plan, yes. I may join you later, though.”

Emiri laughed. “I was about to say the same thing. You know how I am about big, loud parties.”

Aloth nodded. “I do indeed.”

Still, she was curious. And if the Dyrwood was to be her home, as she planned, it would be smart to familiarize herself with the customs. So she’d go for a while, have fun and relax, but there was a safe have she could retreat to if it became too much.

>>><<<

Even with the early start to the preparations, it took a few hours for word to spread and the people of Stalwart to turn out for the festivities. Once they did, however, the atmosphere picked up quickly. There was a lot for them to celebrate, after all. And the amount of alcohol present helped. Edér hadn’t been exaggerating when he said there wasn’t any party like it in the Dyrwood.

Emiri enjoyed herself quite a bit, even if she only sampled most of the food and nursed a single drink--wyrthoneg, Edér had called it, saying it was perfect for someone who didn’t drink much. She appreciated his looking out for her, but even the watered down mead had enough alcohol in it to make her go slow. She was just finishing her first round as Hiravias and Edér plunked down with their third.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Emiri teased.

“Absolutely,” they chorused.

“Anything like the ones you’re used to?” she asked Edér, reaching for another piece of the savory pie Keydy had plunked down in front of them with a wink.

Edér considered for a moment. “Not quite as loud as the ones we use’ta have in Gilded Vale, but maybe that’s just ‘cause me an’ Woden use’ta see which of us could whoop louder, which usually spread to everybody our age.”

She rolled her eyes and bumped his shoulder. “Why am I not surprised?” He just laughed and shrugged, so she turned to Hiravias. “Do you have any celebrations like this in your tribe?”

He snorted and downed half his drink in one go. “Course. We usually wait until the first sign of thaw to do the real celebrating, but there is a pretty big feast to mark the beginning of winter.” His gave drifted to something over her shoulder and he grinned. “’Bout time. You get bored?”

Emiri twisted around just in time to see Aloth half-shrug in answer. She broke into an ear to ear grin and scooted closer to Pallegina to make room on the bench. “Ignore him. Though I am glad you decided to join us.”

Aloth nodded, playing with the sleeve of his sweater. “I figured a little while wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’m glad,” Emiri said. She narrowed her eyes when she saw him shiver. “Are you still cold?”

“Perhaps a little,” he admitted, “though I’m sure that has more to do with being outside in a village halfway up a snow covered mountain than it does-”

“Almost drowning in an icy lake?” Emiri finished for him.

“I’m fine, Emiri,” Aloth said, smiling as he accepted the mug Pallegina nudged in his direction. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary. There are no lingering ill effects from yesterday, I promise.”

“Alright, if you’re sure,” she murmured, lightly bumping her shoulder against his.

His smile widened, and he leaned in to the brief touch. “I’m sure.” His gaze flicked between the members of their group as he took a drink. “I see we’ve lost Kana.”

Emiri giggled. “No, he wanted to talk to people, learn more about their local traditions and how they maybe differ from say, Gilded Vale.” She winked at Edér. “You know, being Kana. He’s right over-” She turned to point toward where she’d last seen him, but he was gone. “Well, he was there,” she muttered, raising her voice instinctively to be heard over the swelling music. “Maybe I have lost him.”

As if summoned by her sheepish admission, Kana swept toward them out of the milling crowd of locals. “How goes it, my friends?” he greeted them, grinning ear to ear. “I trust you’re enjoying yourselves as much as I am?”

“Absolutely,” Emiri confirmed, her heart skipping a beat. He looked so happy it made her grin even wider. “Hearing good stories?”

He nodded. “The kith up here have certainly found ways to make this celebration their own. They fully embrace all the important parts, but put their own twist on the traditions and even added a couple. It’s fascinating to learn about.”

“I’ll bet it is,” she said with a laugh. “I’d ask you to stay and regale me, but Aloth got the last seat, and it doesn’t seem fair to make you stand.”

“Oh, no worries,” Kana laughed, eyes dancing with mirth. “I’ve no need of a seat. I just wanted to see how all of you were faring, and rid myself of this” --he set his empty tankard on the table with a thump-- “before asking you a question.”

“Me?” Emiri raised an eyebrow and her halo pulsed brighter.

He nodded and held out one hand. “Dance with me?”

Her mouth was suddenly very dry. “I...”

Kana smiled encouragingly. “I think it would be fun, in the spirit of things. And I know the songs are unfamiliar, but this one at least sounds close enough to a sarabande I’m sure you’ll manage with no trouble.”

“B’sides, ev’ryone’s drunk an’ won’t care if you fuck up,” Hiravias chipped in helpfully.

Maybe it was his encouragement, or the festive atmosphere, or even the small amount of alcohol she’d consumed. Or maybe something else, deep inside her, didn’t see a problem with throwing caution to the wind just this once. Whatever the reason, it did sound fun.

“Alright,” Emiri nodded, grinning as she took Kana’s hand and let him help her up. She heard Edér and Hiravias whoop as she and Kana skirted the table to join the other dancing couples.

“Just have fun,” Kana whispered as they set palm to palm and fell in step with the dance. “There’s no call to impress anyone this time, and no one who will care if you miss a step.”

Hearing the reassurance helped, as did Kana’s steady and exuberant presence, and Emiri relaxed enough to lose herself in the flow of the music. Kana had been right; there were a few extra steps, and the tempo was much faster--not to mention the different instruments--but this song was just a variation on the sarabande. She may have flubbed the new steps, but it was exceedingly fun. And gods knew she needed fun after yesterday.

The dance finished far sooner than she expected or wanted, and Emiri huffed out a sigh.

Kana chuckled at the reaction and didn’t let go of her hand. “Want to dance another?”

Emiri nodded, grinning wide around her breathless, “Yes, please.”

The next dance was unfamiliar to them both, and they messed up every few steps, but she didn’t care. Neither did anyone else. They offered encouragement and pointers, but the holiday was for fun, so enjoying yourself was the only requirement. And Emiri certainly met that. All told, she and Kana danced to five songs--with varying degrees of skill, but steadily increasing enjoyment--before they dropped, breathless and laughing, into seats near the rest of their friends.

Edér pushed drinks toward them with a grin. “Looks like you two could use this.”

Emiri nodded as she took a hard swallow and shot him a grateful smile. More wyrthoneg. She wasn’t much for alcohol, but this was sweet enough--mild enough--she enjoyed it.

The warm glow from dancing held steady in her chest through the next couple hours of conversation with both her friends and Stalwart’s people, overwhelming enough Emiri wondered if it was visible to everyone.

The answer proved a resounding yes when Edér grinned and pointed out, “You look like you’re tryin’ to outshine the stars, Miri.”

She grinned back and shrugged, gesturing toward her halo. “It gets brighter when I’m happy.”

“Good,” Aloth chipped in with a smile of his own. “You deserve it.”

Emiri shot him another smile. “We all do.”

“Well, this is the place for it,” Hiravias said, holding up his fourth--fifth?--drink in a toast of sorts. “They sure know how to throw a party, I’ll give ‘em that.”

“Right generous of you,” Edér laughed. 

“I’m in a charitable mood,” Hiravias shot back, grinning and bobbling the drink in wordless explanation. “Don’t expect it to last.”

The evening rolled on amid similar banter, punctuated by various locals seeking out the Watcher to thank her for keeping them from having more people to remember this Winter’s End. She chatted with Thyrsc and Suldrun, gave Mylla the bracelet she’d made before breakfast, and waved off Mayor Tarfos when he tried to offer her a reward for chasing away the Iron Flail. By the time they all turned in for the night, Emiri was almost as tired as she’d been the previous day, just for a much better reason.

She smiled into her pillow as she settled in to bed. It had to be her imagination, but she’d swear her hand still felt warm from holding Kana’s. I definitely like Winter’s End, she thought drowsily, before drifting off to significantly more pleasant dreams.

[stay--satan]

But he’s all mine and I’ll love him - Older!DAMIAN WAYNE X READER

Can you do prompts 6 and 11 with Damian, please? Also I’m really excited for upcoming work! Good luck :) - 6. “Are you even happy?” - 11. “Am I even enough?”

hey hey i love your wally piece and i was wondering if you could do 23 with either dick or damian? thanks! - 23. “We’re not Rose and Jack, we’re more like fucking Sid and fucking Nancy”

I think I took too deep this one, might be the saddest thing on earth

WARNING: ANGST, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, DAMIAN IS 21 ON THIS ONE.

The team had comeback from a mission that left Y/N, Raven and Aqualad protecting the tower while Robin, Beast Boy, Starfire and Kid Flash left for a three months undercover mission. Y/N is the team's hacker and watcher, taking control over the fights from the outside while both of them kept the city safe. But again, the three of them never were too much of talking so now with the room crowded again with a welcome reunion after months in silence it was difficult. She didn't know many details about the undercover, but Wally said it was one of the roughest they ever had been. Being someone else for months was dangerous enough to change the real person from the inside. Though he seemed okay, she saw Kori flinch a bit when they jumped to hug her and Beast was definitly faking his smile as he was surrounded by his friends. And of course, there was Damian.

Y/N felt her heart stop for a minute as he walks in the room with his bag. The tall boy is tired and more pale than she remembered. He doesn't even glance a look at her direction, he just walks straight to the elevator going to his room. Y/N feels the pity look of her friends over her and a hand over her shoulder "Don't be mad with him... I guess he and Kory had the most intense part."

Two days has gone by and Damian hasn't left his room. She tries to see him over the security camera in his room but he had put a 'DON'T DISTURB' stick over it. She hears every now and then one of her teamates knocking on his door and placing the food there. Mostly of the times she passed through the hall and the food was still there after hours. Y/N thinks about how many times she thought about knocking there to check on him, or just using her spare key and holding him without telling nothing. But she knew Damian better and he would be gone of the room before she was in the middle of the hallway. So she decides to talk to Kory who was still a bit off from herself, but was open to talk about it.

"You don't have to if it's..." "It's okay Y/N..." The orange woman gives a warm smile to her "I need to snap out of it" Starfire, the woman who Y/N admired for her entire life, was now in front of her looking so fragile like a human being. "We got separated before we landed. It would seem to suspicious if 5 people showed up in the city at the same day. We're suposed to look for this man, Hugo. He controlled H.I.V.E after Grant Wilson's death. But we wanted to get to know everyone around him and all his tatics before we could come up with something over them, I mean, H.I.V.E hasn't moved in years so why start while we are away?" she sighes adjusting her posture "We used this mission also to test our undercover watch, it made us look like someone else. So Wally and Beast went to downtown and me and Damian to near the docks where we believed it would be the criminal's spot. We found a few suspects on our first week, but you know how man are... They don't trust you unless they have something in return." Kori looked to her hands "They locked me and when I woke up, I saw myself again as a slave." her voice is rough, Y/N wanted to hug her but she knew there wasn't nobody like Y/N who could listen to her for this time. It's a difficult thing to tell the others and if she ever mentioned to Grayson... God there wouldn't be a a living soul in that city "I menaged to keep myself strong knowing that if anyone crossed a line with me I could burn that place down, but I coudn't help but think about the other girls you know? I know there is so much pain in this world, I just never thought I would see right in front of me and not being able to do anything for months you know?" Y/N's heart was broken. She rushs to hug her friend "Kori, you're amazing. Every single day that you're here it's the day I am proud of you. After everything you've been through I look at you and see the most strong woman I know. We can't save everyone from this, but you did the best you could" The oldest gives a corner smile to the girl "Well, I did break everyone's legs on our last day. Sent that girls back home and I feel good. I really do. But I need time" "Of course..." you grin letting her go from your embrace "About Damian... He was in South from where I was. From what I heard he was the biggest dealer from there, building his way up. Look Y/N, I don't know what he did... But it broke him. He didn't said a word the entire way over." You nodded to her finally knowing what to do.

Y/N opens the door seeing her long-term boyfriend sleeping. She walks over him carefully sitting across from bed messing his hair. The green eyes wide open in shock grabbing her hand roughly and she gaps "Hey, birdboy. It's me..." she whispers trying to calm him down. Damian finally has a clear vision of her and sits straight in the bed "What time is it?" shaking his head and rubbing his eyes "Late. I'm sorry I had to see you" "Yeah. Sorry I..." "No need" she smiles looking at his face. His eyes were not meeting hers by any point and she notices some new scars over his body. "You need some time" He finally looks at her, but his eyes are different. They have this guilt, angry and arrogance that she never saw before. At least not to her. Damian grunts "Time?" he leaves the bed letting her sit alone. She follows him with her eyes and he goes to the bottle of whiskey that now is part of his room. This wasn't there the last time she visited him, she thought. She also never saw Damian as a drinking type like Jason or Bruce. He puts over a glass to him turning his back to her "Time is what no one have." "I talked to Kori..." the girl's voice is a little louder now to make sure he was listening "She is taking hers and I suggest you do the same" "I am fine, Beloved." he turns to her with the glass on his hand. The nickname he used to call her now don't seem that familiar "Do you think some low key idiots would be able to break me?" he makes his way to her. Y/N feels deep in her core a mix of new feelings inside of her. She was scared for whatever was taking over him but at the same time, the way he looks at her was so much more intense than he ever did. It was like a hungry animal and she was his prey. Pulling her up by her wrists that would definetly leave some marks, he kisses her hard gripping her by the hips. His breath is heavy during the kiss taking over her and his touch is more aggressive. He pushes Y/N to the bed again ripping her blouse apart leaving bites all over her body "Damian... Wait I didn't came... Oh god" she tries to protest but he kiss that sweet spot over her neck while his fingers where now working under her panties before she could protest. She missed him, it's been too long. So she just let go for this time only, she could talk to him later.

Weeks goes by and Damian becomes more and more possesive over her. They barely leave the room and when they eventually do, Damian is gone for hours before return and drag Y/N to another night where they kept going until morning. Now after starring the ceiling while Damian is asleep on her arms for a few hours, she stands up putting her boyfriend's sweater to cover her bruises (she didn't had the exactly time to heal) but she didn't mind. Y/N loved that man since she was 14 and now, six years later, she feels like she needed him more than food or air. Stepping out carefully in the kitchen, she gasps when she notices Kori in the kitchen staring at her "Jesus Koriand'r!" Y/N closes her eyes putting her hands on her chest "You scared me!" "You look like a dead corpse." Oh yes, the Tamaran's ability to tell you the hard truth. Y/N doesn't seem impress though, ignoring her and going to the fridge. As she bends over to grab something, Kori's eyes wide over the purple and red marks on her tights. She rushes to the youngest desperate grabbing her by the shoulders "Y/N for your's sake look at you!" "What's wrong with you" Y/N pushes her off the embrace "What... What he's doing to you..." "Don't you dare imply that! What I do it's none of your business" "How can it not? You're my best friend" the red head looks at her almost tearing up "He's sick, Y/N! He's not Damian anymore and you're just feeding on him" "I'm doing that because I love him. I'm giving him time to tell me whatever happened" "Time? I barely see you and in weeks you look more skinny and pale than ever before." Y/N looks to her feet on that. She was right. Y/N had see herself in the mirror yesterday and honestly she couldn't recognize herself anymore. Her deep green hair is now a pale and dehydrated, her lips cut from all the love bites and her eyes so deep dark that looked like two black holes. "I know you love him and you think you're doing the right thing for whatever is you two are doing but... Are you even happy?" The question hits Y/N more surprisingly than she expected.

Entering in the room Y/N sees Damian Wayne laying on the bed with his glass off whisky in his hands. He doesn't look at her but he feels her eyes on him burning. Closing the door behind her she doesn't move for a whole minute only analyzing the man she loved. "Am I even enough?" Her question comes out more like a sigh. He stops the drinking slowly turning his deep dark eyes to her "What are you talking about?" "Why don't you talk to me?" Damian's face is unreadable. He stands his hand up so she could walk towards him and hold it. He kisses her knuckles and looks at her through his lashes "I couldn't live without you, Y/N L/N." he says raspy and passionate. And then it finally hits her. The mess that was made. Her man, her beautiful boy with such lost eyes. The room where they had so many memories smelling like old sex and alcohool and had not see the daylight for weeks. His on going departure for hours doing god knows what and keeping her locked to himself. She pushes her hands out of his quickly leaning against the wall with wide open eyes. She starts to shake her head and the man stands up going in her direction "STAY AWAY FROM ME" Y/N yells leaning more closer to the wall before he reached her. Damian stops looking at her confused "Look at you, Damian! Look at us, this room... We're not Jack and Rose, we're Sid and fucking Nancy." she starts to sob with hands on her face "What happened Damian? Wha-what happened?" she knees to the floor giving up her strengths between loud sobs. Damian wakes up like it was a mess dream. He sees his girl in pieces on his floor, broken in a way he never saw anyone. Actually, he did saw it. Himself. About a month ago in a cheap room where he was. Crying wildly on the floor, alone, screaming and punching the walls.

"I killed someone." His voice comes out in a breath. Y/N controlled her sobs and slowly put her head up facing him with while he was out of breath. Remembering every single detail of that night. "I-I didn't know. They put a knife in my hand challenging me and I thought I could get out of it. But... They were so out of themselfs that-" he stops to kneel on the floor across from her closing his eyes "The guy ran, held my hand into the knife" he looks at his own hands like it was still there "and did it before I could have a chance." Y/N now stares at him bursting in tears. "I try, I swear I tried to save him. Led him to a hospital but nothing worked and... I snapped out of it." He barely can finish his sentence before sobbing loudly than he ever did before. She rushes over him holding him tight over the shoulders, kissing his head repeatedly while he shouts 'I'm Sorry' over and over again. She knew it wasn't only for her, but also his family. Wally rushes over the room scared of what was happening, but before the boy on her embrace notices, she nodds to him to leave. She held him for hours while he struggles for hours under her arms. "My love? Love, look at me" she says holding his head near her's "You. Are. Not. Guilty. Okay? It'll pass." "I've- I've been horrible to you, look what I did to you!" he's crying had not stopped for a single moment. It's getting worse everytime he remembered something "Love, look at me LOOK AT ME" shaking him by the shoulders "You'll be okay. I'll forgive you." she gives away a little smile to him "Bruce and I will forgive you, but Damian, darling you need to talk to us okay?" He looks at her and finally control his crying nodding his head.

Telling Bruce was the hardest day of their life. The moment the man entered you led him to Damian's room, you saw shock and despair on his eyes for the first time. He sees his boy sitting on the bed completely different and it's like he already knew. Bruce hold his son in his arm kissing his head while the other Wayne embrace him tightly Damian was still scared to touch you, his psychiatrist said that what he did to you was to suppress the pain and keep his undercover on even after the mission. He's been going to therapy regularly and moved back to the manor where you two slept in separated rooms. Even though every night you held him in your arms until he falled asleep, he still insisted for you to leave after that. It was important for you too. Y/N's support was what gave Damian Wayne strength. He couldn't leave a day without telling sorry for the rest of his life and after almost a year of treatment, both of them felt trusty enough to love each other.

"Thank you" he whispers stroking her head on his embrace after calming down "For what?" she puts her hands over his chest "Where do you want me to start?" a chuckle leave her lips and he smiles over the sweet sound "I love you baby boy" lifting her head to meet his eyes, Y/N says with a deep voice "You might think that you're broke and hurt inside but you're all mine and I love you." she smiles as he gazes her eyes over him "I'll love you baby boy. No matter what."

[locshar]

The White Princess Diaries- Ep 2

This is how the Yorks do York!!

The White Princess –Episode 2 but feels as if it should be Episode 14…

And he’s still not in it – even as a ghost…

 Good news TWP diary readers!  

This one will be a lot shorter!

Partly because I got bored half way through and decided to find out how long it took my colour-changing kettle boil water.  Honestly!

BUT – I had been told my most favourite guy (next to Aneurard) would be making a star appearance – which was very magnanimous of him as he never appeared anywhere in TWQ (at least not in the Starz version eh diary readers…he! he! he!)

 So – I girded my loins, poured a very tall drink, and began:

 Warning! Social media revelation!

 Remember that little craze about the ‘is the dress black and blue or blue and gold?’  I bet you didn’t know it was a Tudor invention.  Mini-Lizzie-ish wears one gown throughout the whole of this episode, despite getting rounder with a big- but big- but definitely a bit bigger baby.  I was so relieved to see that the Battle of Bosworth made very little change on the budget for women’s clothing (apart from a significant reduction in the size of Cecily’s hat collection and the fact that Henry now seems to be clad in the finest carpet)

 Going back to said gown (yes we are) What is interesting ( to me anyway) is that the top of the gown was blue (I think) and the bottom of the gown was gold ( I think) and to me it seemed in danger of merging totally into one colour as she got bigger.  

Or – it could have been a cleverly crafted represented her transition from the House of York to the Bungalow of Tudor – so she sort of became a Yudor - not to be confused with Yoda! (Jedi is she? In the wrong production she is).

 That’s that lot off my chest, so here we go,  *strains of all too familiar music are heard ..*

 Well – King Whoenry appears to be wearing a smoking jacket (pity its not blazing) and Mini-ish Lizzie s in said confused about its identity dress. (apparently now available to buy £40 should do it).  All to show you that he now really fancies the bloomers off her and she is playing all hard to get (see that attitude disappear by episode three…) #spoileralert?

 Oh for George of Clarence’s sake – now we have the Battle of Bosworth being reenacted in a bird cage. Honestly!  It’s a bird cage! ‘How cheep’ I hear you say!  And you would be right to twitter!  I think they made it out of all the spare wood from the trees they hauled into Bruges – er I mean – Westminster –when Eddie had that marvelous masked ball!  You know! The one where his wife wore a unicorn head and his brother went beserk!

 But who is that by the door? Oh my god – its Moaning Morton – we know it is him because he tells it is and is very helpful by also reeling off all his titles because he is also very peeved that he was not in the earlier episodes.  After all, did you know it was him who actually persuaded Rory of Buckingham to have that awful haircut!  

 Now Dr Whoenry is going on a royal progress. An ideal time for the flowers in the attic (which is where Woodiwitch and her children now appear to live) to regale us with lots of little details that we would not know have happened since King Richard was killed (sob sob sob wail! I will never get over that….obviously)

 Apparently Stafford has not bent the knee (well there were two of them really so there would be four to bend)

 Hang on!  Cursed Codpieces!  Francis Lovell did what?  

Now apart from all you first time TWQ watchers who may be going “Who?”  I can assure you that Francis Lovell (King Richard’s best mate and part-time camoflague expert) NEVER EVER EVER bent his knee to Tudor.

 Now – I admit. He may have wanted to bend his knee and plant it squarely in the royal jewels area of a certain Chewdor bloke, but that’s it.  Now it appears    “Lovell is our man and when we find him…”

Well best of luck with that then as I searched all ten episodes three years ago with a tooth comb and a magnifying glass and never got a sniff!  But, for dramatic licence I bet Nokia Ned may suddenly have his GPS turned on and find him with no trouble at all #spoileralert

 Now they are all getting dressed in up in everything to go everywhere (Yes they are EE Mobile) – but not York.  It seems there is no service there.  Or no one wants to pay service to him.  King Henrywho decided to wear black (very fitting) and even found a sword to play with. Even if he wasn’t quite sure which was the sharp end.

 Shirking Stanley loves his new velvet beret so much he has hardly taken it off at all since he bought it.  And I bet is it reversible!

 Even the horses are decked in gold plastic – sorry – expensive gold armour.

 King Whoenry is in a real strop because he keeps telling us there is NO WAY he is going to York as they are all bad men up there who loved a man who according to some historians never ever went further than Warwick.  But Mini Lizzie-ish is determined he will go to York, because she is secretly writing to her ex-lovers very best ex-mate who you haven’t seen before and asking him to kill the husband she now has and making him an ex-husband! This series is almost ex-rated. (its certainly not ex-citing)

 Because King Whoenry is scared, he puts his best crown on and crows on about Margaret of York (last seen in 1468 exiting over the channel) has attacked two ships with the aid of Captain Jack Sparrow – and has obviously done that because Henry is such a clever usurper he has stopped all her trade restrictions  (God this is painful and apologies – I invented the Capt Sparrow bit in there just to liven up the script. It was actually Capt Birdseye)

 The silent ladies-in-waiting can't be bothered to wait and all bugger off somewhere to be silent somewhere else but no one realises – or cares.

 Now there’s rather a lot of royal mail – and no where near enough of a certain royal Male –as there are letters flying about all over the place.  To Francis Lovell, and Harry Stafford (the dead one?) and my sainted the king’s lady mother.

 Ooh look – just in time! it's Nokia Ned. And he has a letter saying Henry’s no good in bed – does no one realise he could have just sent a text and stayed in the stables?

 Lizzie-Mini-ish is now off to York because King Whoenry has been told if he doesn’t go to York he will have to go to bed with no dinner.  

 Everyone is worried about Mini-Lizzie-ish because although her child is blooming no-one can even see it beneath the very slim 22 inch waist encased in the gold-not blue-not gold gown. I’m not. She is not pregnant – obviously – only in this epic – sorry episode!

 But now she can’t go because of the swearing sickness – oh sorry – it’s the sweating sickness – its just this episode which is making me swear.  So instead of her daughter the older Lizzie-ish decides she is going to York and even packs a nice flock suitcase –and uses Nokia Ned to print off her bedding – sorry – boarding passes.

 I then got very confused – but maybe because my kettle actually started to boil colourfully!  There were some children, the sight of King Henrywhos chicken legs in bed and then the children appeared to be being attacked by Cardinal Moaning. (Well  we didn’t see any of that in TWQ did we ladies! Hmnnn?  What does that say about a Tudor court?)

 Basically Lizzie-Maxi – is now a prisoner to prevent her going north of Warwick and Moaning Morton will pray for her - like bugger he will!

 Can I summarise this next bit? Please?  Great!!

1.    Henry has a cloak by Axminster. It certainly isn’t a shag pile!

2.    His armour appears to be gold PVC

3.    Everyone is getting sick (I know the feeling)

4.    Lady Elizabeth De La Poodle (geddit?) is shocked when she is told she can no longer ride side-saddle because times have changed!  Bloody hell! Thank god for the Tardis!  We are obviously now in the 19th Century!

 So they all sod off to York (other northern cities are available)

 Lizzie Maxi is now ripping up her underwear, writing on it with blood, and giving Nokia Ned another ring. Unluckily this time, he doesn’t pick up. He’s a bit thick and it takes his horse – Shergar – to tell him his phone is ringing (sorry – show him where Elizabeth’s ring has landed in the long grass!)

 Suitably engaged (he! he!) – she now flings her underwear out of the window so that Nokia Ned can hoof it up to a nice country mansion where Francis Lovell may well have been living since 1473.

 Now that King Whoenry has left London – Moaning Morton is shutting the whole of the city down and leaving everyone in the dark.  Teddy (the Earl of Warwick – not the dead one tho) wants to play “Fox and Geese” but Moaning Morton has hidden all the toys away.  Bloody spoilsport!  I bet that is because even Teddy could have beaten Dr Whothehellishe at board games.

 Now The Duchess of Hatlessfield is back and so goes to visit everyone in the dark and is so pissed off she decides she is going to Burgundy because that’s where all the booze is!  

 But meanwhile…somewhere in leafy England… the postman has arrived…..Nokia Ned rings a bell ….a door opens… an old man with an Aneurin-Bur coloured beard answers the door and takes a letter from him…no one speaks a bloody word mind you during this scene…..so this could be a completely different programme or the adverts…but then, the letter says….something like…

 “Dear Francis Lovell, I know you really have lots of important titles as you were the most influential man in England apart from the King in 1483-85 but I am rapidly dying of blood loss and have already written 40,000 words.  We are so sorry but we won’t be able to meet you in York now as my battery is flat and London is completely in the dark.  As we can’t get there would you mind awfully forgiving Emma Frost and Philippa Gregory for leaving you out of The White Queen completely and for not casting Henry Cavill in your character now they have realised you actually existed - and go and stab Henry for me.  Thanking you in anticipation. Ex Queenie and her sprogs”

 Now I know we didn’t see Aneurard’s best mate inTWQ (neither did he) but I know a few things about Frank (we are on good terms!)

a)    He was not older than Aneurard – or King Whoenry – in fact he was about the same age as King Whoenry.

b)    If he had a beard – it would not have been that one.  

c)    He did not spend his months after Bosworth living in a house, a very nice house in the country….he spent most of them in sanctuary

d)    He did not bend his knee….oh, done that one.

 So – after a lot more of whatever went on – we are in York!  And the good people of Yorkshire have already heard about King Whoenry as the mayor ( I assume) steps up – looking all northern in the best Starz tradition – ie he is wearing a pork pie hat – and hands over all his money to the king. You didn’t see that in TWQ either #justsaying

 There is a flurry of activity, Gandalf in a blue cloak – oh sorry I think that is supposed to be Francis – and because King Henrywho can’t hide behind anyone this time he gets wounded. Disclaimer – other versions of this historic visit to York are available.

Cue horses riding about in Sherwood Forest ( aka Yorkshire) Bells ringing – a very dark church where the king takes refuge and a sudden clarity when he remembers he is 28 years old. Nice to know they got his age right here – they couldn’t make their minds up in TWQ.

 So, the rebels with a bloody good cause ride north and are chased by Stand Up Stanley. But him and his 30 men are stopped by 5 rebels parked across the road and as Francis disappears into Sherwood forest in his hood ( this is how legends start girls and boys) Stanley – or it could have been Grasper Chewdor – bored now - decides that 30 against 5 is not good odds for him so they let them go.

 They then report back to King Whoenry that they lost him at Middleham.  Where?  Is a entire audience now looking around at each other and saying “Where’s Middleham?” OK – think north of Sheriff Hutton…sorry Woodville Manor North Yorkshire!

 And still Francis has not said a word as he rides of back to Bestwood…with his merry rebels and a friar – they are so tired they need to find some tuck….

 Well that excitement over – heres the rest in a nutshell…

      I.         Lizziemini is still in the same frock

     II.         People are dying of the swearing sickness – I call it that because Dr King Whoenry swears it was nothing to do with his mercenaries brought out of prision to usurp a country

   III.         Lizzie maxi is playing Rapunzel in a Tower

  IV.         A priest is smoking in the diddly diddly cloister

    V.         Henry can write (see below)

  VI.         Lizzie ish pisses off Moaning Morton by breaking into the treasury and stealing all Henry’s (well Aneurard’s really) gold

VII.         Breathing in very deeply is apparently a medieval form of abortion

VIII.         Teddy and his sister give all the gold away to the poor ( Hurrah for the Yorks)

  IX.         Everyone is now playing ‘Fox and Geese” at least they are all wearing beaks

    X.         Lizzies (x 2) are both fed up of being cooped up ( I told you HortonhearsaWho was a chicken!)

  XI.         James of Scotland needs a wife – so Henrywho thinks it could be Lizzie (which one? Who cares? It doesn’t happen!)

XII.         Mad Cags is told to stop flirting with NotGrasper

XIII.         Princess Cecily doesn’t do much but at least she’s got off the bed but is writing secret letters to Mad Cags – well no one else want to hear her whinge

XIV.         All of the people are suddenly cured and thank MiniLizzi for it – which pisses of her mum because she wanted everyone to die, whoever was left to blame the king, and whoever was left, probably Francis, to kill Dr Who.

XV.         Yes, I am losing the plot. And the will to live (and what plot?)

XVI.         King Henrywho suddenly realizes Teddy is not so bare of lineage as he thought – remembers he is a York – and locks him up in the Tower.  That will be the last you see of him – until he is at least 54 and meeting Perkin Warden

XVII.         Oh yes – where has he gone?

XVIII.         The peasants are revolting ( the old ones are the best)

XIX.         Dr Whoenry is so frightened that Mag Cags is going to knit him a personal bodyguard.  

XX.         The king is not at all happy that his wife is more popular than him and people shout out for her in the street (note to Lizzie – avoid Paris and Mercedes Benz cars)

XXI.         Francis is now in Burgundy – I hope he has taken his Visa-card with him as if he ends up in the wine bar with Duchess Dyson it could be expensive. I bet she sucks up some drink!

XXII.         Grasper and Strange – or it’s that Strange Grasper are being sent to Burgundy (psst don’t mention the trade restrictions!)

XXIII.         Stanley is pissed that he wont get the chaunce to shew erf his accent and his nuu beret!

XXIV.         As it is now raining the king is in a pac-a-mac.  Its not just any pac-a-mac – it’s a designer leather pac-a-mac.  Its DickheadNY!

XXV.         Suddenly Not so Mini-Lizzi is nine months preggers and it is time for her confinement.  The bloody lycra in that blue-but gold-but blue dress is amazing!

 The end – I can’t wait for Ep 3 – apart from I can-  just to see what happens when the booze cruise hits Burgundy.

 Appendix 1

 “Dear Mrs King Whoenry, this is your husband writing to you from York.  Well, its my scribe writing actually as I don’t now how to and all the furniture has disappeared and so I am stuck with standing up, swanning around in my best Berber, and glowering at everyone like a sulky teenager.  A man you will never have heard of called Francis Lovell has stabbed me in the flesh! Yes! Me! I have flesh! Ok I know it looks like scales but I am using medication and hope it will get better soon….anyway… so I am wounded.  Not mortally. In fact, its barely a fleshwound.  More of a scratch really. In fact, it probably never happened at all. So, I am coming home. Its raining, my carpet is very wet and heavy, my plastic armour chafes and as I have eaten my fill of Yorkshire Parkin.  In fact if I ever hear the word ‘Parkin’ again, I will have someone’s head.  Honest! Your Tudor husband, Doctor King Henry the King of Kings. PS…will you still be wearing that blue-but gold-but blue dress when I get home you minx?  You know how partial I am to a bit of parti-coloured damask!”

 Appendix 2 –

Dear Francis Lovell

If you fancy a pint, I can hop on the next P&O Ferry!

Much love – your favourite diarist (and author of Desmond’s Daughter).