#his version of ‘saving’ her from a goddess’s wrath | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

Hymn to Myself

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: The Goddess of Spring tells a mortal the story of her abduction by the King of the Underworld. Follows the Homeric Hymn to Demeter.

Warning: kidnapping

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: fem Persephone!reader x Hades!Hyunjin

Dear mortal, listen closely, for I have deemed you worthy to hear my tale. You have danced in my name, burned offerings to me. You shall be rewarded for your worship. Lend me your ear now, and perhaps I will lend a hand in the future.

You know me by many names — The Maiden, The Younger, the Goddess of Spring — but today I will be the Queen of the Dead. There is no need to be so frightened. Your time has not come yet, nor will I be the one to ferry you to the Underworld, as you well know. Trembling and bowing your head for mercy will serve you no purpose but do as you like.

You have heard the tale, I am sure. The Dark-Haired One seizes a maiden and makes her his bride, as her mother, holy Night-Mare of the golden double-axe, ceases the earth’s harvest in her despair. The story you may have heard prior is my mother’s version, without the details of me in the Underworld.

Like most stories, it begins with the Cloud Collector, my father. Seeing that the King of the Underworld had no queen and that no goddess or nymph desired him, he offered him a bride, the flowerfaced daughter of the Corn-Mother. The King of the Dead accepted.

As you may have guessed, I did not know about this arrangement. The nymphs I surrounded myself with then, daughters of the Titan God of Rivers, did not either, yet they braided my hair and wove flowers in. Roses, crocuses, and hyacinths entangled with violets and irises to make a crown of spring. I still remember the way they fussed over me, singing songs and pulling at my scalp. I hated it. I only wanted to pick my blossoms. Once they had finished, I walked through the meadow, leaving them behind, gathering as many of the flowers I could into my arms.

Then I spotted a narcissus, its center as radiant as the sun and its petals the color of fresh milk. Its honey-sweet fragrance filled the sky and enchanted me. I approached it with both hands, ready to hold the bud to my nose, when the earth beneath me broke open.

A golden chariot drawn by sable-black horses leapt out, and I was snatched by the gloomy Lord. I cried out for my father, he of the thunderbolt, but he was the one who promised me, and I did not know that then. The King of the Dead had me in his grasp. He refused to let go. But still I cried a piercing scream, begging the pantheon of gods seated at Olympus to help, pleading Lord Helios in his own golden chariot to come down and save me. No one heard a thing when the chariot descended back into the earth.

And when we finally entered the Underworld, my voice had gone hoarse, my body limp. The flowers I clutched to my chest were the only remnants of the sunlit earth I had, but their petals had scattered into the wind and their stems wilted in the dark. The Dark-Haired One kept his arm on me, making sure I would not be able to flee. The shades wandered in the fields below us, their moans a constant hum.

Soon we stopped in front of his palace, a cold and imposing labyrinth with a locked gate reaching to the sky. A three-headed dog stood guard, saliva dripping from its maw. The King stepped off first and offered his hand to me, but I remained frozen on the chariot. It was still warm from the sun, and I wanted to soak in every last piece I could. The hound growled and lowered its center head to sniff me when I latched onto the side, even as the Lord of the house tried to drag me off.

“Leave me be,” I cried, pushing at his chest. “My father will punish you for this. He is the king of the heavens, and you will be struck with his bolt.”

“At the behest of the Thunderer, you are now my wife. Come, my queen, into your new home.”

I had no tears left, and I mutely followed him, keeping my eyes on the back of his wine-dark cloak. He led me through the gates, the corridors of his palace, all the way to the throne room. Two chairs stood next to each other, both as black as the horses and the sky. His was obsidian, etched with bone-white carvings and lined with onyx gems. The other, the ebony one intertwined with asphodel and pomegranates, belonged to me now.

“Are you pleased?” he asked.

I said nothing, for the fight in me had died along with the flowers I left between the paws of the hound.

“Are you frightened?”

Again, no sound left me. He made me sit on my throne, and I did with my head hung low. He cradled my face, and I shut my eyes. If he desired a kiss, then he could take it. I was a wife now, to the king of the Underworld too, and I would let my husband put his mouth on mine.

“Tired,” he declared after some time. “I will bring you ambrosia and nectar, so that you may recover.”

He brought the divine foods to me, but I did not eat. He tried to make conversation, but I did not speak. The scent of the asphodels and pomegranates were suffocating, and the musk of death coated the air untainted by natural fragrance. The thick slabs of wood underneath me were unyielding, and so was I. The Dark-Haired One was dismayed.

“What is it that you require?”

“I require that I be returned to my mother and to the earth.”

He smiled. “I have all of the riches of the earth. See what I have made for you.”

Humans called him the Wealthy One on occasion, and I understood that it was not merely a euphemism when he presented my crown to me: a golden-leaved garland with apple-red rubies the size of hen’s eggs and emeralds as vivid as moss, not a hint of death clouding its elegance. It was magnificent and befitting for a queen of spring. He undid the nymphs’ braids that still remained in my hair and placed the crown on my head.

“Are you happy now?” he asked.

“I will never be happy until I see the sun again.”

He frowned and left me alone on my throne, hoping I would change my mind. The ambrosia and nectar laid on the moonlight-silver tray. They glistened and glowed, their dangerously sweet scent enveloping the room, doing their best to entice me. Instead, I sat as rigid as a tree for days, languishing in my misery. Color faded from my features, and I looked like the very image of the Queen of the Dead, with my soulless eyes and ashen skin.

Day and night, I remained there. The Lord of the House was patient, as his realm was eternal and as I was immortal. He brought gifts to try to sway me: diamond birds perching on bronze branches, amethyst crocus bouquets with delicate sprigs of roses the colors of ripe peaches. I left them on the ground. They reminded me too much of what I no longer had. The treasures around me grew, but he persisted with his prizes and his attempts at conversation.

“There are many souls arriving today,” he would say. “How lovely,” I would reply.

“What do you think of the sky here?” he would ask, and I would tell him, “It is like you.”

“Would you like to see Cereberus again? I think he liked you,” to which I would answer, “I am content here.”

It was his offer to visit the Asphodel Meadows that drew me out of my fog.

We took his chariot, golden and gleaming as before. This time, he held out a hand for me, and I accepted. The three-headed dog at the entrance of the palace whined when I did not pat his heads like his master. The flowers I left as a peace offering earlier were gone, not even a broken stem lingering. I could only imagine that they were played with and eaten.

“He does like you,” the King whispered. He placed one arm around my shoulders as he held the reins with the other. I shrunk as much as I could, burying my nose in my hair so not to smell the death radiating off of him.

“Yes, I suppose he does.”

We stopped in one of the many fields, the asphodel ghostly white and fluttering in the breeze. The shades kept their distance when I stepped off the chariot and into the flowers. My bare feet touched the Underworld dirt, my ankles brushed the stalks as I roamed the meadow like I did that fateful day, plucking the prettiest blooms from their roots. The Dark-Haired One followed closely behind, and I did my best to keep my eyes on the iron sky as I wandered through more of the fields. Lone petals circled in the wind, adorning the false flowers of my crown with themselves. I thought about the nymphs — their songs, their chatter, their life — and nearly wept. Then I thought about my poor mother, with the beautiful garlands in her hair, finding no trace of me among the meadow, and I dropped to the ground.

“There is no need to cry,” said the Dark-Haired One softly. “The shades will not hurt you.”

“I want to go home,” I replied in-between my gasps. I thought that picking flowers would somehow soothe me, but they only pained my heart. “Please, let me return home.”

He held me up, and I saw up close the famed black locks that framed his face. “Home,” he smiled.

My spirits soared, and I clamored onto his chariot, eager to see the wispy clouds and splendid sun again. But I had deceived myself. For the Queen of the Underworld, the palace was home.

The throne was too far for my limp body to retire to, so he set me down upon a funeral couch. There, I laid and stared out the window at the vast number of souls inhabiting the fields. He brought me ambrosia and nectar once more, a feeble attempt that even he knew was wasted.

He ordered entertainers to sing and dance for me, but I stared at them like one of the many skulls carved on his throne.

However, my prayers were soon answered months later. The mighty Messenger of the Gods, with his golden wand, came and relayed my father’s message: I was to be returned to my mother, for she was wrathful against the gods. The Lord smiled and did not disobey the Thunderer’s orders.

“Go to your mother,” he said to me, “for I am not an unseemly husband. But you are my queen, and all those who do not perform your rituals with reverence, all those who do not perfectly burn offerings for you, will be punished.”

I did not care about those things. Still, I rejoiced and leapt from the couch with liveliness, my crown falling to the ground in my eagerness. To feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, to see the vibrant earth, to be with my mother — those were what mattered to me.

“Before you leave, I ask that you try the Underworld’s fruit,” he said, holding out a pomegranate. “As a blessing to us from the Queen of the Dead.”

“You have been nothing but kind to me, so I will,” I told him. I ate four of the seeds, red as the rubies on my Underworld crown and sweet as honey, before I could tolerate my impatience no longer.

The King’s chariot was already drawn with his sable-black horses. The dog eyed me curiously as I got onto the chariot with the Immortal Guide rather than his master. The messenger took the reins, and we ascended to the upper world. The taste of the pomegranate still coated my tongue when the earth cracked open.

We burst forth like a new sprout. The nymphs came out from the sea and flocked around, fussing like they did before. This time, I did not mind. I let them pull at my clothing and let them weave fragrant flowers in my hair.

My mother, with a dark robe, soon arrived. She saw me, stretched her arms out, and I ran into them, breathing in her familiar scent. She stroked my hair, all while murmuring in my ear about how I was safe now, how happy she was. I was happy too. I recounted my tale to her in a frenzy, words crashing into one another like the churning tides. We stayed together, roaming the fields, soaking in the sun and earth I had missed. I danced in the streams, playing with my nymphs in celebration, for I was home.

It was later that I learned that I was bound to the Underworld, having eaten the pomegranate seeds. I left with a heavy heart and arrived to the expectant Lord, smiling with his brows.

“You tricked me,” I said. I would not weep; I could endure my time here.

“It was a request you accepted,” he said as he strode to me with my crown. He adorned me with it, and I let him brush the loose tendrils from my face. “Welcome home, my queen.”

In the beginning, it was a partial home.

I left the palace as often as I could to roam among the asphodels and the shades. The shades grew acquainted with my presence and bowed to me, moaning cries of worship in that strange tongue of theirs. I learned to feed the horses with sweet pomegranate seeds to entice them into being obedient, and the golden chariot of the King became one of my possessions. I stayed away from him, for I still felt betrayed.

Despite my frigidness, he adored me like no other. The entertainers seemed to be a constant at his court now that I present. He offered to dance with me, to which I rejected every time. He played knucklebones with me on the rare occasion I was receptive. I suspected he let me win on several occasions in an attempt to open me up like a blooming flower. And whenever I returned from a walk through the fields, he would have a lavish bouquet of false flowers waiting on my throne.

However, over time I grew to recognize my stature. After all, not many goddesses could say that they had power like mine. I began to wear my royal title like a mantle, draping it around my shoulders and letting it trail behind me in my wake. I was not always merciful, as you may well know yourself, mortal, but it is nigh impossible to say that I was not fair. The Lord took this fervor of mine as a sign that I had forgiven him. I still do not know if I have.

I sit beside him, as his equal, commanding the dead just like he does. I let him kiss my cheek and sometimes return the favor if I am feeling kind that day. I dance with him, resting my head over his heart and breathing in his musk.

But he is the one who made me his bride and thrust the Underworld upon me.

It is difficult to say that I resent him. It is much easier to say that I cannot, and will never be able to, love him in the same way he loves me.

Thus, for four months of the year, I live as the Queen of the Dead, never as his wife.

Now, dear mortal, you have heard it all. Tell it to the world.

~ ad.gray

Extra: Sorry for the unholy amount of name euphemisms and epithets. The TL;DR is that I didn’t want the associations of the Greek gods’ relationships, and by extension their names, in this story because they’re a mess by modern standards, so I opted for euphemisms and epithets instead. I decided to not use names at all because consistency, I guess? This kind of works though since “Persephone” is telling the story to a mortal and mortals avoided saying certain god’s names, Persephone and Hades among them, out of fear or respect (source). Saying a god’s name gets their attention, and getting the god’s of death attention was considered unlucky (source). This story’s version of Persephone is pretty understanding, I guess. Also, I tried to mimic the style of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (this was the translation I used), and the amount of descriptors is insane. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

Hope you enjoyed this! <3

203 notes · View notes

elonaackerman · 3 years

Text

What does Ymir want ?

This is a question that many people are asking themselves since a few chapters, and it was also mentioned by Armin and Zeke in chapter 137.

The fact is that I actually have a theory about it which confirms that Eren is the father of Historia’s child.

Let’s start the analysis and theory building:

Firstly, we have this panel: Ymir looks at a couple, and Zeke says that the reason she stayed in the path is because she was still attached to this world. However, the kanji he uses in japanese means that she is attached to something she couldn’t have had in her life. So why is she waiting ? She is not attached to her past life but to a life she desires. So, in my opinion, Ymir was waiting for her savior, Eren Jäger, the one that would make her reborn again as a « person » and not as a slave, goddess or monster.

(By the way don’t you think the couple looks like a walmart version of Eren and Historia ?)

It’s perfectly logical: if Eren gives a second chance to the person that is the origin of the hate cycle, then he will totally break lt. It would also make a total sense for Historia and Eren to name their child Ymir, both for two different reasons, and for Eren to tell the baby: « you are free ».

I am sure that Eren is not dead, this is not even questionable for me. The most popular theory is that he is on paradise waiting to touch his royal blood baby who inherited the Beast Titan in order to reactivate the Rumbling. I disagree guys: Eren would definitely not use his child to comit an act of wrath, this action totally goes againts his ideas. To force such a destiny on a new born child is exactly what the Reiss/Fritz cycle was. A cycle that the ennemies of humanity, Eren and Historia, broke and won’t let happen again. So what is the man doing ?

I however think that Eren is indeed using War Hammer’s abilities, and that he purposely let his friends smash to pieces his titan body. But for what ?

That’s where the big part of my theory comes: to destroy the parasite and free Ymir from the path.

I noticed that the parasite has been bring quite often those last chapters by Isayama. It can’t be a coincidence. Remember Zeke’s words about life and the parasite being scared and refusing death: the parasite created titans by associating itself with Ymir. And now she is nor dead, nor alive, in a world that she can’t escape off. Plus, she let the alliance do their thing without interfering, it’s very strange.

It gave me the idea that the parasite, since it can’t survive alone, used Ymir for 2000 years as a sort of « anchor », or, if you prefer, as a string, a link to other Eldians. It is spreading through Ymir like a virus, and the path is her prison. It would also explain why titans of royal blood have fuller abilities since they descent from Ymir, which means the parasite has a greater affinity to them because of its first vessel. Ymir maybe is a non consistent being used as a tool by the parasite. Knowing that SNK was kinda inspired by a game, if I remember well, about aliens, it would not be shocking if Hajime Isayama gives a big role to this strange creature. Another thing is the path itself the sort of tree which is the center of it indeed looks like the parasite itself (btw just search for « path animation » on youtube, a man made a wonderful work hollywood-level, I was speechless)

If Eren is not in the founding titan, then the parasite is separated from his body, and it can be destroyed without killing him. That’s why he let his friends do their thing, maybe he is also waiting for them to come back to Paradise thinking they won to start the Rumbling again so that he won’t have to kill them. That’s also probably why the shifters helped, they may have been sort of summoned by Ymir herself. Since she is nor alive, nor dead, since she is out of time, it doesn’t matter for her if the parasite is dead or not in the current timeline, she still can give her power to Eren in order to finish the rumbling. I think that if I am right, the path will however start to destroy itself: the amount of time will be limited. Once it will have fall to pieces, she will go out of the path, putting an end to the Titan Curse, and will be reborned.

The panel of chapter 121 will be even more beautiful if Eren is the father. It’s not just Eren running after Ymir in order to stop his brother’s euthanization plan, it’s a future father saving his baby’s life by offering to a child the possibility to live. Eren fights for life. He IS life, he multiplies and conserves. That makes him the complete nemesis of Zeke.

I hope you liked it, even if people may call me mad or say it’s ridiculous I don’t think Isayama is less mad than me 👀

Don’t hesitate to share all your theories ! ❤️

#erehisu #eren x historia #snk #138theory #snk 138 #snk 137 #snk theory #ymir fritz #ymir #eren #eren jeager

285 notes · View notes

scenicphoenix · 2 years

Text

Fi - Hall of Bittersweet Memories/Sword with a Soul

There stood the Sword with a Soul, Known more commonly as the Master Sword, proudly in it's pedistal as a symbol of courage and wisdom for the kingdom of Hryrule. But what has been lost to history is that the title it has is quite literal, and they have been one of the one remaining and stubborn constants in the kingdom and it's prestigious tree of heroes. One of the only beings to be able to remember all the heroes who have drawn the Master Sword from it's pedistal, no matter what point in time it is, or in some cases timelines.

The ghostly form of the swords soul drifts down a hall of honor and memories. Perhaps it's silly for a being like her, a Sword Spirit created to serve the hero, to make such a place. But she couldn't help but create a place where she could visit her memories of the many different heroes and the different timelines they live in. A hall full of the portraits of the Heroes to have drawn her sword in their honor so they are never forgotten, even if only she can access it. Looking at each hero's portrait reminds her of notable memories of each one. Drifting up to the closest portrait she gazes at the portrait and it's plaque featuring that particular hero's title.

She looks at the portrait labeled Hero of Time, one of the first to officially use her sword since Hryules inception. The Hero of Time was a troubled soul thrust into the life of the hero far too early. She hopes he knows that at least she remembers his noble deeds in saving the Hyrule he was ripped away from. She can only imagine what troubling adventures he went through without her and his old fairy companions guidance.

She drifts to the next portrait labeled Hero of Twilight, he is in the timeline the hero of time was sent back to and is directly related to him in more Than just soul. The Hero of Twilight didn't just save his world but the world of Twilight as well, even if one of the Twili threatened his. He knows that feeling of loss the first reincarnation of the hero and the hero of time had to go through when losing their companions that guided them on their adventure.

Next was the one labeled Hero of Wind, he is from the timeline the hero of time was ripped away from. The Hero of Wind was similarly thrust into the life of the hero like the hero of time, far too early. She finds it notable that he is one of the only ones to have defeated Demises reincarnation once and for all. She supposed that the reincarnation of Demise made the mistake at gaining the wrath of the hero of wind, much like Demise himself gained the first reincarnation of the hero's wrath.

She looks at the portraits in one section in sadness, the timeline the hero of time died is a sad one. The portrait labeled the hero of legend is a remarkable one, one of the strongest hero's to exist in his timeline and had gone on the most adventures. He defeated the form of Demises reincarnation that had the full power of the triforce on his side, truly a remarkable feat. And his descendant with his portrait labeled Hero of World's, he saved his world's triforce from being stolen by another's, and even though that world tried to steal something so precious he and the mortal goddess wished for that world's triforce to be restored. Both live in a timeline where Demises reincarnation beat the hero of time and had to be defeated another way.

Looking at one of the heroes to exist at the end of the timeline, his portraits labeled Hero of Wild, she is reminded how similar he is to the first reincarnation of the hero. The hero of wild was stubborn in his duty to protect the mortal goddess that he ultimately fell in battle, he took his duty just as seriously as the firsts. However She finds it notable that there is two versions of this hero due to a similar timeline split that happened to the hero of time, and thus has two portraits for him as a result. Both are remarkably different even if they are technically the same person, one survived and the other didn't, that's a rather huge difference. Funny how the butterfly effect works isn't it? To differentiate between the two heroes of the wild one is labeled the one who stayed standing, and the other one is labeled the one who fell.

All reincarnations of the hero are similar but are all their own person and special in their own unique ways, it's remarkable how similar yet different they are. The swords soul finally makes it to the first portrait in the hall and stops in front of it, the first portrait to have ever been added. She looks at the portrait labeled Hero of the Sky with fondness, her first true friend....and the only friend to meet her in person. The one to officially start the prestigious tree of heroes, the one to defeat Demise himself. She knows she isn't supposed to choose favorites out of all the heroes she has given guidance, but....

"I think I miss you the most.......Master."

Previous post I used as a prompt

5 notes · View notes

depressedhatakekakashi · 3 years

Note

Kakashi is an immortal God, the God of Storm and Thunder, with hair of the purest of silvers and eyes grey just like the heavy stormcloud he can call on a whim

Many think of him as a capricious God, because many are afraid of the storms that he causes, but instead he's not. To be honest, he's curious and attracted to the human's lives, so fragile and short and yet always lived to their fullest

Despite being curious, Kakashi always makes sure to not get attached to any human, because he knows that they'll all eventually die. That's not to say that he's alone, he does have friends in other Deities, like Rin, the Goddess of the Sea and its ever-changing tides, or Obito, the God of the Moon that always gets grumpy whenever one of Kakashi's storms blocks him from view

However, he does care for the human race. He always makes sure that the rivers will not overflow because of him, and that his lightnings will never strike too close to them

One day, he decides to answers the call of someone praying for him. Not many decide to turn to him for things, because the majority of people are afraid of his power

A boy, barely adult, is the one asking for Kakashi's help, for a place where rain rarely strikes, his village on the brink of drought, and that's how Kakashi meets Gai

For him, an immortal Deity, it's not the first time. One way or the other, he somehow always meets a reincarnation of that boy that never seems afraid of the cracking of thunders and the deafening rain, and even if Kakashi always promises himself to not fall into that easy friendship ever again after the boy dies, he always breaks his promise when he meets him again in another life and place

A prince once, a traveler after. A knight. A rogue. A teacher. A fighter. He has met many versions of that same boy, and every time is a new experience, even if the boy never remembers him

For a while now, Kakashi has been thinking to look for a way to make a mortal become immortal...

Ahhh ok there is so much to talk about here <3 <3 <3

Kakashi is the god of thunder and storms. It's his gift that brings rain down on the world. Waters crops, fill lakes, etc. But people don't always see that. Sometimes all they see if the loud bright flashes of light that pierce the sky, because Kakashi thought they were pretty. Sometimes all they care about is the waters that rose too high because of Kakashi's rain, washing out craps, and destroying homes.

Kakashi has come to accept that people don't like him. That he'll never be as loved as Rin who people pray to before a long journey over the sea, or Obito who people weave tales about because of the beauty of the moon. He's ok with that because he knows his gift is useful and beautiful.

Every once in a while, when the rains are light, he gets to see people dancing outside. The odd person who enjoys the water falling from the sky. Who watches out the window as lightning cracks through the sky.

It's those people who make his work worth it, even if they are far and few between. The curiosity in their eyes. the joy on their faces when they see his work. They're the ones he keeps creating new interesting storms for.

the first time he meets his favorite mortal, he's still considered a young god. Getting the hang of his powers under his father's teachings. Crafting his first lighting bolt in his hands.

The mortal is from a small village that has been suffering without rain for months. Their crops are dying and they are starving. Kakashi can't do much for them, but he can make a little rain at this point so he gives it to them. Take's special care of this little village (while not neglecting his other duties) and watches as it slowly starts to flourish. He becomes the deity of the village. The first place to worship him above all else.

he keeps an eye on that village. Always making sure that they have the rain that they need, and specifically checking in on his favorite mortal. Never making himself seen, but keeping an eye out on him to make sure he's ok. That he's thriving.

The first time his favorite mortal dies, he's crushed. He doesn't want to believe it's possible, even though he saw him living a full life with a family that loved him. He hates the feeling in his chest, and his father ends up having to hold him as he cries. The world sees one of its biggest storms that day, and Kakashi's sadness goes down in human history as a destructive force of nature.

When he sees the mortal again, he's more cautious. refuses to let himself get attached and feel that pain again. besides, this time he's a prince. A being a wealth. He'll be fine without Kakashi.

But then one day because of Kakashi's avoidance of that mortal, he finds himself being prayed to again. the waters have dried up in the area, and the threat of starvation is great. They need rain, and no matter how much Kakashi wants to avoid that mortal he can't ignore his pleading. he sends down rain to help them, and when he hears those pray of thanks his heartbreaks. He knows he can't ignore that mortal. They're his favorite. so curious and playful.

This time he visits them, but he's disguised. A god doesn't make themselves known among mortals. He shows up as a simple villager, enjoying their day and playing with some dogs. The Prince is out in the village checking in on things when he sees him.

Kakashi doesn't mean to, but when the Prince walks up to him and starts talking to him he can't help but become friends. Kakashi's still very young (for a god) and he loves the excitement in the other boy's eyes.

He ends up visiting more. Spending his days by his friend's side, and whenever he notices that his friend is particularly sad he makes it rain. A gift, because he loves the way his face lights up when he sees rain falling from the sky.

When the prince is older, Kakashi comes for a visit one day to find him sulking in the corner of his room. When he asks what's wrong, the Prince tells him that he's set to get married.

Kakashi didn't think his heart could break again, but here he is. Another hurt that he doesn't understand.

He leaves that day and never returns. Watches from afar as the prince marries and has a family. Rules his kingdom with kindness. And every day he listens to his prays and turns away every time he hears that hope to see his friend again. Prays that the storm god can return that silver-haired boy he loved so much to his side.

When the King dies, Kakashi's storm is unrelenting. It wipes out a city, and it's only when Obito and Rin come to his side that he's able to calm himself enough to stop.

That's when the fear of the storm god starts to truly set in Mortals' hearts. When Kakashi becomes known as a destructive god, to be feared alongside Shisui, the god of war.

Kakashi removes himself from the mortal world after that. Only doing his job as the god of storms and enjoying his time alone in his home. He pays no attention to the worries of mortals, no matter how curious he is. No matter how much he wants to check in on them and watch them. See that excitement in a mortal's eyes when they see his lightning once again.

But then that voice is back. Soft pleas to a god that few call to anymore.

The pleas of a dying knight.

Kakashi doesn't know this version of his friend for long. He only sees him during his dying moments, but seeing the man lying in a field of bodies wishing for a little rain to say goodbye to the world in, Kakashi can't help but grant him that wish. Rain falls on the knight's face that day, and as he closes his eyes he swears he sees a silver-haired man showing up by his side. Ensuring he's not alone.

That's the day Kakashi decides to learn about mortals again, but this time he doesn't just want to watch them. He wants to find out if there's a way to turn a mortal immortal. To keep them by his side for all eternity, so that he never has to say goodbye again.

Susanoo is the name everyone knows Kakashi by. The god of storms and thunder. They fear his name and the destruction that his storms can bring down on them.

Kakashi doesn't mind though. The mortals leave him alone for the most part because of their fear. This allows him the time he needs to study. To find a way to make a mortal into an immortal.

Obito and Rin are always trying to get him to give up and focus on what he has. There are many gods and goddess who would love to be with Kakashi, so they don't think he should be so focused on a mortal who may never come back anyways.

He refuses to quit though and continues to study regardless. Sharing his time with someone new every once in a while but never getting attached.

And then one day while he's in his library doing some research he hears a familiar voice. This time the voice of a child, scared and alone. Looking in on his old friend, he finds him huddled under his bed praying for some rain to wash away the soldiers in his home. The ones who killed his father.

Kakashi doesn't know the story. He doesn't need to. He sees red and for the first time ever there are mortals who get to experience his wrath first hand. He appears in the boy's home raging with lighting in his hand and slaughters the soldiers. Washes them away with his rains.

He doesn't help the boy. Instead, he sends Rin to him. She was always softer and more capable of soothing people.

She takes him into her home and helps him grow. He's so expressive emotional, and there's nothing more he loves than the rain. Sometimes Rin will ask Kakashi to make it rain just so she can see that bright excited smile.

She finally understands why Kakashi likes this mortal so much, and years later when it's his time to go and Kakashi still doesn't have an answer to save him, he parishes with Rin by his side telling him stories of the storm god determined to turn his favorite mortal into an immortal. To raise him into the rank of God among others, if only just so he can see him every day.

The wait to see him again isn't so long this time, and the next time that Kakashi hears that voice he longs for, he's an adult. A teacher at a new school in his village. He's not asking for rain for crops or drinking water or survival. He wants to prove a point to his students.

He wants them to see the good of storms. The stunning beauty of lightning and the rain falls on their faces but doesn't harm them.

He wants Susanno to bring down a nice storm to prove that his powers are not only destructive.

Kakashi sends in a storm, and while the teacher is outside watching the rain pour down while his students cheer and dance, he swears he sees a silver-haired man at his side. A familiar face that brings him comfort, but for some reason he can't place just how he knows that person.

the next day, while he's out getting some supplies for dinner, he sees that silver-haired man again out in the village. Playing with some of the children and dogs around.

He decides to talk to the man and quickly makes friends with him. He's kind and his smile is hidden but soft. Full of fondness when he speaks to him.

It's the first time in years Kakashi hears that name again. A name he hasn't listened to from his favorite mortal since he saw the Prince he fell so hopelessly in love with. Gai.

It's a name Kakashi will never forget, and one he loves to say.

Kakashi doesn't keep track of the time he spends with Gai. All he knows is that he makes sure there's Rain where it needs to be, but his days are spent by Gai's side. Watching over him, caring for him, loving him.

One day while they're sitting by the village river together, Kakashi can't help but ask Gai when he's going to find someone. Settle down and start a family, just as he always does.

He's surprised when Gai smiles shyly and says he already found someone, and when he pushes for information Gai refuses to tell him anything. The only thing he gets is 'they're too far away for me to reach'

He's alright with that though. He doesn't have to share Gai, and he loves that. He doesn't have to see him marry someone else again, and that makes him happy.

He spends the rest of Gai's life with him, even trying to change his appearance to make it seem like he's older. Then that faithful day comes. The day he knows he has to say goodbye because Gai's dying and he still hasn't found a solution to his pressing problem of making him immortal.

Showing up by Gai's side, he takes his hand and sits with him. An old man with his old friend. But then Gai smiles that beautiful smile and says something Kakashi didn't expect. "Stop hiding your youth from me. I want to see Susanno in his glory before I go."

Kakashi doesn't bother to ask how Gai knows, he simply reverts back to his usual look and allows Gai to see him. To look upon the god he prayed to all those years ago.

the last thing that Gai says to him is 'Don't allow your tears to become the river that washes more lives away. I want the world to know the Susanno that I know. That kindness, and love that comes with your storms."

If Kakashi wasn't determined to find a way to keep Gai by his side before, he definitely is now.

#Hatake Kakashi #God Of Storms Kakashi #AU #this got LONG omg #I'm so sorry XD

21 notes · View notes

dani-luminae · 2 years

Note

OKAY IM BREAKING FROM MY WORK TO COMMENT. We absolutely stan Silver in this house!! Just protecting the kids however he can! an icon. And his moment with Lia was so good. Ahhh and Ben still doubting himself even after what he's done for the kids and how he's literally leading the charge to get them free was so sad - no, Ben! You've done so much good that Mal had nothing to do with! You've got this! (And he pretty much did save the day at the cotillion, he jumped in the water and got them to stop fighting.) I'm hoping Lia will be able to get his confidence levels up, she certainly has a lot of it herself! The way Lia was just straight up haunting the ship was so eerie and cool, I was picturing Eris from Sinbad, just in terms of her flying through and messing with things - the same sort of fluidity I guess. Im gonna enjoy seeing her interact with Ben and the kids now that she's with them - it's gonna be hard to act "normal" after appearing from nowhere but I cannot wait to see it 👀 And all the kids are so tough I love them 😭 just the powerful aura of Lia with her sword and holding Ben and just walking away from the pirates and dropping into the lifeboat- so cool. If it were a movie I'm picturing this whole chapter would have a very fast, tense but badass soundtrack playing, but then when Lia grabs the sword and Ben, the music would cut short and the scene would be dead silent up until the end of the chapter when Ben passes out - or have some sort of soft, maybe eerie but powerful music playing very quietly. Those are the vibes I get. Loved this chapter!! Excited for next time! 💖

YAYYY I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS AND REVIEWS SO MUCH

Yes Silver is the best!!!!!! He may be a morally grey pirate but he does have a soft spot for kids. I will add that he's not aboard the Gruesome Gangler for no reason, so soon enough I hope we'll have a reason to stan him even more!

Yeah, that moment with Ben there is kinda heartbreaking. I didn't even originally plan that moment, it just happened. (And yes I understand that Ben was the real hero of Cotillion but canon - and therefore Auradon - kinda ignore that so even Ben understates his hand in keeping everyone safe, which is why he thinks Mal saved the day there.)

The kids are all so tough! All of them! I love them so much, which is amazing for a bunch of side-characters I made up and named on the spot lol.

This version of Lia is so fun to write! I envision her motions as an Etherial as like a combo of Eris from Sinbad and Hades from the animated Hercules, like able to mold their own reality in a way and unbound by silly things like physics and logic. Which means yes, Etherial Lia can absolutely be spooky space goddess sometimes, haunting the ship and being wrathful and destroying whatever she wants. (She's gonna be one heck of a match for Hades, I can tell you that!)

That moment she appears as a normal person (kinda) is one of my favorite parts - and it wasn't even planned originally! My original ending for this chapter was that Ben was wounded but managed to still try and get to the lifeboat, only to fall nearly overboard - into open space - but "starlight" catches him and pulls him aboard and suddenly, there's a girl. But as the scene played out it was clear that Ben wouldn't even be able to get that far without some help, so... Etherial to the rescue! Random new girl here to save the day, and she's so powerful and scary that even the pirates don't want to mess with her!

For the writing of this chapter, I switched through various Pirates of the Caribbean soundtracks as well as some Little Mermaid-affiliated videos. This POTC one from Ambient Worlds, as well as this Little Mermaid attraction queue music from Cinemagic Park Ambience, are some of my favorites. (In fact, I rather imagine that a bit of that LM queue music could fit for the "quiet/eerie music" you describe!)

Thank you so much! I’m so glad you loved the chapter!

4 notes · View notes

bl1ndbraavosi · 3 years

Note

Stalking you bc I haven’t been able to be on tumblr lately. Seeing those prompts from earlier today and give me number 37 pls, dealers choice 🥰

hehe hi ty this is way longer than i anticipated but I COULDNT STOP so pls accept #1 Most Terrible Babysitter Rokudaime Hokage (under the cut bc she is kinda long for tumblr)

37. "What happened to their happily ever after?" "Not all those love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it's just once upon a time"

There was something to be said about the fact that his most gifted medic was, for all intents and purposes, a single mother to a very precocious child. Sarada was the spitting image of Sasuke, but everything in her countenance screamed Sakura. He never knew a child to be so shrewd. Well, aside from himself, anyway.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have gotten involved. But, these circumstances were anything but normal; Sakura was his former pupil-become-friend. Sort of. He couldn’t very well demand her presence at the hospital and leave her young daughter to her own devices within the Uchiha compound.

No, instead, he’d demanded that one of the other parent-type shinobi take on the littlest Uchiha for the night. They had all adamantly refused, and now he understood why.

Sarada peered at him over her red-rimmed glasses, strapped to her little head with a thick rubber band, but all the ridiculous spectacles in the world could not diminish the dark eyes narrowed at him in suspicion as he paraphrased and skipped over entire sections in the bedtime story he was meant to be reading her.

“That’s not how it goes,” she said for the fifth time in the last five minutes.

“If you already know how it goes, why am I reading it?” he challenged. Her eyes narrowed further.

“Because I’m five and my mama said you have to,” she said.

“You know, she really takes orders from me? I’m her boss,” he pointed out, not entirely sure what he expected this five-year-old to do about it.

“Mama doesn’t take orders from anyone,” she said with a proud smile, like Sakura had trained her to say it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had done just that. He slumped over in the tiny wooden chair that was definitely not built for a grown man.

“Alright, kid, I’m gonna level with you; I’m not cut out for this bedtime story thing.”

“You’re telling me,” she said with a little scoff, popping her arms out from under her blankets to take the book from his lap. She flipped through the pages, skimming over all of them until one of them pleased her. “These aren’t my favourites, anyway,” she admitted. “My favourite is when mama tells me different stories. Without reading,” she said, her dark eyes big and imploring.

“You want me to make it up?” he asked doubtfully. Her cheeks went a little pink.

“Did you…know my dad?” she asked timidly. Kakashi got the feeling Sakura was not one to entertain this request very often, if Sarada’s shifty eyes and pink cheeks were anything to go by. “Could you tell me about him? And mama?”

“No way,” he said, knowing Sakura was probably going to give him shit for it later. But, right now, his main concern was that he was sat on a chair built for a toddler, and his legs were quickly going numb. At this rate, he would have to ask the ANBU guards stationed outside this house to carry him home. “I’ll tell you something better,” he promised.

Mollified, Sarada tucked herself lower into her bed, staring up at him impatiently. He launched into the story of her parents without telling her it was about them.

Sasuke and Sakura; where to begin. He supposed the beginning would do. So he started her off with their beginnings as he knew them; the genin team, where Sakura had been the brightest by far, but often overshadowed. Sarada, an academy student herself, was deeply invested in the details of Team Seven’s early days. Before he knew it, she was yawning uncontrollably and those dark eyes were falling shut despite all her efforts.

He made himself a tea and sat on the big couch in their house until Sakura came slumping in after a long night at the hospital. She was surprised to see him there, thanking him profusely before pouring herself into her own bed.

The next time it happened, he hadn’t even bothered asking anyone else to look after Sarada, even though he promised Sakura he would. Now that he knew how to get the little demon to conk out quickly, it would be a walk in the park. Besides, Sakura had bragged to just about everyone that Sarada apparently loved him, and wouldn’t stop talking about him. He just hoped the girl kept their story to herself.

She didn’t even bother with a book this time; she just laid on her pillow and stared up at him until he began. The story took an unpleasant turn here, and he was worried about telling her all the hardships her parents had faced as children. He shouldn’t have been; this was a reality of the shinobi world, a world that Sarada was a part of. Still, he tried to handle Sasuke’s running away and various attempts at killing Naruto and Sakura as delicately as possible.

“Didn’t he love them?” Sarada asked, looking sad.

“Yes, he did,” Kakashi said with absolute certainty. “But sometimes that’s not enough,” he finished.

“You shouldn’t leave people you love,” Sarada said adamantly, and Kakashi realized that perhaps this was not the version of this story to be telling her. Thankfully, she drifted off shortly thereafter.

It was a while before his storytelling was put to the test again, but it seemed no time had passed at all for Sarada. She was as deeply invested in the story as ever, bursting with questions and ready to hear more.

He jumped right into it; talking about a formidable clan, a noble and strong clan, and Sasuke’s dedication to that clan. He skipped over the nastier intricacies—like the slaughter and fratricide—and focusing in on the devotion Team Seven had for one another. Sarada didn’t seem overly suspicious of his sugar-coating, and allowed him to continue on uninterrupted.

“Why did they keep fighting so hard to save someone who didn’t want to be saved?” she asked, a little knot appearing above her brows, just as Sakura’s did when she worried.

“That’s what you do for family,” he explained. “You stick by them, no matter what.” Her knotted brow eased slightly.

The next story time brought them to the war; the rejoining of forces, Sasuke’s return to Konoha’s side, fighting alongside his remaining family, and saving the world. Sarada seemed a little more appeased by this part of the story, taking particular interest in hearing about Sakura’s healing prowess on the battlefield.

“She saved all those lives?” she asked with wide eyes.

“Yes, but let’s not forget it was a team effort. The leader also saved many lives,” he said, the leader being him. She didn’t particularly care. He wondered if Sakura had actively instilled her general disregard for him as a leader in her daughter, or if this behaviour was hereditary.

The only thing more impressive than Sakura keeping Naruto’s heart pumping by shoving her hand into his body was the fact that she had punched a goddess in the face.

“And then she saved her other team members? After all that?” she asked, her eyes wide. Kakashi realized belatedly that he had meant to tell her a small romance about her parents, but instead had exalted her mother for the better part of it all. He supposed that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps Sakura wouldn’t be so mad at him, should she find out.

But, of course, impudent as she was, Sarada made it clear that he would likely never be safe from Sakura’s wrath.

“So, they went through all that to save him, but he still left,” she said, a deep line appearing between her brows.

“He left to protect them,” Kakashi explained. Sarada did not look convinced.

“He didn’t leave for her,” Sarada said, rolling her eyes behind those thick red frames. “Does he come back?”

“Yes, eventually,” Kakashi said, feeling uneasy. “But he leaves again because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.”

“He’s wrong,” Sarada said. “I’m five and I know that. What happened to their happily ever after?” she complained. Kakashi had forgotten among all her quips and questions that she really was just a five-year-old girl.

“Not all those love stories get a happily ever after. Sometimes it's just once upon a time.”

“This story sucks, Hokage-sama,” she complained.

He found himself agreeing. He had always kept his reservations about Sasuke’s absence to himself, but it was hard to deny that his daughter certainly seemed to have a better understanding of duty than he did currently.

“Do you think my dad will come back?” she asked suddenly. “Do you think he loves us?”

“I’m sure of it,” he answered as quickly as his mouth would let him speak.

“But he’s not here now,” she said, her eyelids slowly getting heavier and her words slurring with sleepiness. “I’m glad you’re here, Hokage-sama.”

“Me too, kid.”

“Does that mean we’re family?” she asked softly. He didn’t know what to say.

“I guess it does.” And just like that, she was out.

“Hey, Kakashi?” Sakura poked her head into his office, her brow knotted and eyes narrowed at him.

“Hm?” he answered, barely sparing her a glance as he reviewed his pile of mission scrolls.

“Just a quick question for you,” she said, her voice dripping in suspicion. He felt his shoulders tense. “Why the fuck does my daughter keep telling people you’re her dad?”

#alholland #prompt

29 notes · View notes

st-clements-steps · 3 years

Text

I’m not sure that the classical allusions you can read into asoiaf are always intentional. So even though I’m about to list a lot of superficial similarities between Theon and Odysseus and I’m gonna use that to say something about Theon, it’s not that I think Odysseus tells us anything about where Theon’s story is going. I personally think the classical allusions happen because of the weight of antiquity on Western thinking and because asoiaf is a rich new world made in patchwork and reconstruction from our own. (This is long, and kinda pointless so...)

Theon is an islander who, like Odysseus, has been kept away from home, and this dream of returning home is a key part what is propelling them both. Of course Theon does actually return to Pyke and feels rejected, and then what is propelling him is more the dream of glory which will in turn lead to his acceptance at home.

Those tropes we associate with Odysseus; the sea, the bow, the women, the clever move instead of the brave brazen fight, for whatever reason, GRRM has given those to Theon. Yes the clever move turns out more problematically and is in the end less effective than it is in the Odyssey, yes we’re more overtly uncomfortable about Theon’s relationships with women than we are about Odysseus’.

Theon uses a feint to sneak into an impossibly fortified place, just as Odysseus uses a feint to get the Greeks into Troy. Of course Theon does not throw any heirs from fortified walls nor raze Winterfell to the ground but events escape from his control to almost the same place anyway. (In the Odyssey no mention is made of Astyanax’s fate and it is not until later writers that the idea becomes possible canon, of course this ambiguity about whether Astyanax has been killed and by whom could be seen as echoed by Theon’s thoughts flitting between the story the Bolton’s need him to present to the North and the events we as readers experienced…there is no truth here, it’s all fiction) (Also, if Euripedes can remake a story, perhaps an author’s version is no more definitive than a fanfic writer’s response???).

I would characterise the general view of the Odyssey as unfortunate adventurer and the Greeks viewed him as a hero.

The Romans, meanwhile, think of him as a villain, cos he's a trickster who sneaks into fortified Troy. Modern writers tend to write him as problematic, he loves his wife and child but he throws babies from walls and Penelope waits virtuously whilst he doesn't. I'm not sure if anyone has, but what if his repeated shipwrecking, his near escapes from monsters and his being held as a hostage by Calypso was written as a tragi-horror victim narrative?

It’s here where Theon’s echoes of Odysseus become important to me. Yes, Theon’s experiences are generally more overtly horrific than Odysseus’. Yes, Theon’s trauma is condensed into a much tighter time frame. No, he is not allowed any respite in the arms of immortal women. But Odysseus’ story is hardly a buoyant adventure of daring do, he initially escapes the Cyclops, Polyphemus, only to rashly boast of his name, which is what begins Poseidon’s persecution of him. Repeatedly captured, he first loses his fleet, apart from his own ship, to cannibals, he later has to journey to the Underworld, before losing his ship and the rest of his men to a shipwreck demanded by the God Helios. He is then held for seven years by the immortal Calypso, and only released when Hermes demands it of her (Theon saves himself in the end, Odysseus doesn’t escape). Although Odysseus 7 years with her tend to be dismissed as good time sex slavery to a beautiful woman, Emily Wilson’s translation shows an Odysseus filled with despair and fear, “sobbing in grief and pain,” unbelieving when she promises to send him home;

Odysseus,

informed by many years of pain and loss,

shuddered and let his words fly out at her.

“Goddess, you have some other scheme in mind,”

Having said she’ll let her leave she then claims he will “glutted” with “suffering” before he gets home and he has to appease her with “diplomatic” words. Their relationship definitely appears coercive, even if it isn’t physically abusive.

As I said before (randomly, when I was supposed to be talking about Theon’s mirroring of Patroclus), when Odysseus is shipwrecked again by Poseidon and washes up half dead in Phaeacia, he tells his story, and they laud him as a hero, gift him a ship and treasure beyond that he pillaged from Troy.

Of course the show gives Theon the opportunity of being a hero in the modern sense, sacrificing his life for the possibility that everyone may survive (let’s save the biblical allusions for another time), and to me Theon’s escape with Jeyne in the books mirrors an Oprah book of the week in its tale of survival. However his creator continues to deny Theon the label hero. When GRRM talks about Theon wanting to be hero he surely means it in the classical sense, the revered warrior (I actually have no clue what GRRM means).

Well here is one of those classical heroes and Theon’s tale echoes his. A hero will, in one of the oldest pieces of fiction surviving today, fail, succeed, fuck, cry, expose himself to beautiful risk, travel into the underworld, be held captive, escape, hobble back to those he loves an old man (it’s magic, not abuse admittedly), fight with wrath but ultimately listen.

He is saviour and villain, victim and abuser, failing and triumphant, because the best stories (even those filled fantastical things) reflect the complexities of being human.

In the end, a hero is the person whose story we clamour to be told.

Tell me about a complicated man.

Muse, tell me how he wandered and was lost

when he had wrecked the holy town […]

and where he went and who he met, the pain

he suffered […], and how he worked

to save his life

Homer, The Odyssey trans. Emily Wilson 2018

#Theon Greyjoy #theon #odysseus #homer's odyssey #emily wilson #asoiaf #got #im not actually that interested in theon (or anyone) being defined as a hero #im interested in the idea that heroism is really really complicated #and that the characters who capture our imagination have always been complicated

12 notes · View notes

intermundia · 3 years

Note

Wise, beautily, Mistress of the knowledge, can you break down the Hades & Persephone/Kore myth/lore for us?

It would be my genuine pleasure to talk about the original Greek sources and purposes of the myth. The Roman poet Ovid references this myth in both the Fasti and the Metamorphoses. His version are very famous, but he is not a neutral chronicler at all, and his version has to be understood within the larger context of those texts, and is outside my area of expertise haha.

So, to the original Greek context. Persephone was both the Queen of the Underworld, and associated with cycles of vegetation and spring. It makes sense, as plants go under the earth to rest and then burst forth with life months later. The tl;dr of the myth is given in Hesiod:

αὐτὰρ ὁ Δήμητρος πολυφόρβης ἐς λέχος ἦλθεν, ἣ τέκε Περσεφόνην λευκώλενον, ἣν Ἀιδωνεὺς ἥρπασε ἧς παρὰ μητρός: ἔδωκε δὲ μητίετα Ζεύς.

Also he [Zeus] came to the bed of all-nourishing Demeter, and she bore white-armed Persephone whom Aidoneus carried off from her mother; but wise Zeus gave her to him. [Theogony, 915-17]

Hesiod uses genealogy to express related concepts (I mean, what is a family tree but a taxonomy of names with hierarchical organization?), so of course there is a goddess who is the daughter of Demeter (agriculture) who is married to Hades (death), because it accurately captures a pattern in nature.

Demeter is an Olympian god, but natural fertility has a massive chthonian element, so it makes sense for her to have a daughter who goes under the earth. Like how Aphrodite has a child Eros which captures a facet of her power, Persephone is a facet of Demeter and part of Demeter’s myth. They are rarely celebrated apart.

The old agrarian cult of Demeter and Persephone in Eleusis was the core of the secret religious rites of the Eleusinian Mysteries (Ἐλευσίνια Μυστήρια). The mysteries enacted the myth of the abduction of Persephone from her mother Demeter by Hades, in a cycle with three phases: the descent (loss), the search, and the ascent, with the main theme being the ascent (άνοδος) of Persephone and the reunion with her mother.

The myth is also at the heart of the festival of the Thesmophoria in Athens, which is one of my favorites because of the cakes baked in the shape of snakes and phalluses lol. The first day was called the ascent (άνοδος) just like at Eleusis, and probably celebrated the return of Persephone and the reunion with her mother. The emphasis in cult is not on Persephone/Hades, rather the story is about the maternal perspective.

When Zeus gives Persephone to Hades without Demeter’s permission, he ignored Demeter’s rights as a goddess and mother. Demeter responds by holding the fertility of the earth back, and creates famine, forcing Zeus to recall Persephone from the underworld. Demeter thinks that she has succeeded in saving her daughter, only to find out that Persephone must return to Hades for a third of each year because Hades "put into" her a pomegranate seed (Hymn to Demeter 2.412), which binds her to him.

The Homeric Hymn to Demeter was likely composed contemporarily to Hesiod or slightly later, and is a core source of the original myth. We are very lucky to have it at all—the entire text was discovered in 15th century manuscript found in a stable in Moscow in 1777. Near the end of they hymn, Persephone explains to her mother that she would not be able to leave the Underworld, having tasted the food of the dead:

εὖτέ μοι Ἑρμῆς ἦλθ᾽ ἐριούνιος ἄγγελος ὠκὺς πὰρ πατέρος Κρονιδαο καὶ ἄλλων Οὐρανιώνων, ἐλθεῖν ἐξ Ἐρέβευς, ἵνα ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδοῦσα 410λήξαις ἀθανάτοισι χόλου καὶ μήνιος αἰνῆς, αὐτίκ᾽ ἐγὼν ἀνόρουσ᾽ ὑπὸ χάρματος: αὐτὰρ ὃ λάθρῃ ἔμβαλέ μοι ῥοιῆς κόκκον, μελιηδέ᾽ ἐδωδήν, ἄκουσαν δὲ βίῃ με προσηνάγκασσε πάσασθαι. ὡς δέ μ᾽ ἀναρπάξας Κρονίδεω πυκινὴν διὰ μῆτιν 415ᾤχετο πατρὸς ἐμοῖο, φέρων ὑπὸ κεύθεα γαίης, ἐξερέω, καὶ πάντα διίξομαι, ὡς ἐρεείνεις. ἡμεῖς μὲν μάλα πᾶσαι ἀν᾽ ἱμερτὸν λειμῶνα, ... 425παίζομεν ἠδ᾽ ἄνθεα δρέπομεν χείρεσσ᾽ ἐρόεντα, μίγδα κρόκον τ᾽ ἀγανὸν καὶ ἀγαλλίδας ἠδ᾽ ὑάκινθον καὶ ῥοδέας κάλυκας καὶ λείρια, θαῦμα ἰδέσθαι, νάρκισσόν θ᾽, ὃν ἔφυσ᾽ ὥς περ κρόκον εὐρεῖα χθών. αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ δρεπόμην περὶ χάρματι: γαῖα δ᾽ ἔνερθε 430χώρησεν: τῇ δ᾽ ἔκθορ᾽ ἄναξ κρατερὸς Πολυδέγμων: βῆ δὲ φέρων ὑπὸ γαῖαν ἐν ἅρμασι χρυσείοισι πόλλ᾽ ἀεκαζομένην: ἐβόησα δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ὄρθια φωνῇ. ταῦτά τοι ἀχνυμένη περ ἀληθέα πάντ᾽ ἀγορεύω.

“When luck-bringing Hermes came, swift messenger from my father the Son of Cronos and the other Sons of Heaven, bidding me come back from Erebus that you [Demeter] might see me with your eyes [410] and so cease from your anger and fearful wrath against the gods, I sprang up at once for joy; but he secretly put in my mouth sweet food, a pomegranate seed, and forced me to taste against my will. Also I will tell how he rapt me away by the deep plan [415] of my father the Son of Cronos and carried me off beneath the depths of the earth, and will relate the whole matter as you ask. All we were playing in a lovely meadow, ... [425] we were playing and gathering sweet flowers in our hands, soft crocuses mingled with irises and hyacinths, and rose-blooms and lilies, marvellous to see, and the narcissus which the wide earth caused to grow yellow as a crocus. That I plucked in my joy; but the earth [430] parted beneath, and there the strong lord, the Host of Many, sprang forth and in his golden chariot he bore me away, all unwilling, beneath the earth: then I cried with a shrill cry. All this is true, sore though it grieves me to tell the tale.” [Homeric Hymn 2 to Demeter, line 407ff]

So, the original text is pretty clear that Persephone was abducted and “married” against her will, and she’s really caught as a pawn in the middle of a power-play between Zeus, Demeter, and Hades. She is lost to Demeter in a way that many daughters in a patriarchal society are lost to their mothers when their fathers arrange for their marriage and give them away, often before their mothers would deem them ready for marriage. That particular grief is addressed in this myth and in cult, and I think helped women process that trauma of separation.

The myth is one about mothers and daughters, betrayal and reunion, death and rebirth. Now, I love me adaptations of the myth where Persephone chose to leave with agency and loved Hades and they eloped etc. but those stories aren’t true to the original spirit of the myth tbh.

#classics #mythology #ovid and i are enemies btw #thanks for asking anon #love stuff like this #Anonymous

19 notes · View notes

moonlitmagic · 4 years

Text

Constellation Compendium: The Zodiac (part 1)

We all know the 12 basic zodiac signs and what they represent, but what about their stories? This is a look into the mythology behind the zodiac constellations, and what some of their correspondences could be based on these myths.

Aries 🔥

In Hellenistic astrology, Aries is the ram which bore the golden fleece. Aries rescued Phrixos and Helle, children of king Athamas and his first wife Nephele. Ino, his second wife, was jealous of Nephele, and wished to kill Phrixos and Helle. To do this she induced a famine, then lied to Athamas saying that the oracle prophesised that sacrificing Phrixos would end the famine. Athamas climbed to the top of Mounth Laphystium. Nephele prayed to Zeus to help her children, and Zeus answered her prayers by sending Aries. Just as he was about to throw Phrixos off the mountain, Aries arrived to stop him. Unfortunately, Helle fell from Aries’s back during the flight, and drowned. Once returned, Phrixos sacrificed the ram to Zeus and gave the fleese to Aeetus in exchange for marriage to his daughter. Aeetus hung the fleece, known as the golden fleece, in a sacred place guarded by a dragon. In a later myth, the golden fleece was stolen by the hero Jason and the Argonauts.

Correspondences: action, heroism, recklessness, speed, fighting, sacrifice

Taurus 🐂

This constellation has been given myth and stories through the ages across many different cultures. For now, we’ll focus on the Greek mythology, because many other zodiac constellations are also found in greek myth. Taurus represents Zeus, who took the form of a white bull in order to abduct Europa, the Phonecian Princess. Some say that Taurus’s front half is only depicted to represent his submersion as he carried Europa out to sea, carrying her to the island of Crete where they had children. In other versions of the myth, Taurus represents Io, one of Zeus’s lovers whom he transformed into a bull to hide her from Hera.

Correspondences: love, escape, determination, renewal of life

Gemini ♊

This constellation is associated with the Greek myth of the twins Castor and Pollux. Castor was mortal, being son of a king, while Pollux was immortal, being son of Zeus. Castor was a good horseman, and Pollux was a good fighter. They were created to save sailors from trouble at sea. At sea, they were thought to appear as St. Elmo’s Fire. The twins joined the hero Jason on the Argo to save the ship from a terrible storm. When Castor died in battle, Pollux begged Zeus to make him immortal. Zeus granted his son’s wishes, placing them both in the sky as constellations, so that they could spend half of their time on Earth during the day, and the other half in the sky at night. Because of their heroic assistance to Jason and the Argo, when sailors saw both stars in the sky it was a sure sign of safe travels. However, only seeing one of the twins was bad luck.

Correspondences: siblings, safety, travel, teamwork, duality

Cancer 🌙

Cancer was the crab sent by Hera to destroy Heralces, her enemy. This is because Heracles was one of Zeus’s illegitimate children and Zeus’s power was stronger in him than the others. Cancer approached Heracles while he was fighting the Hydra, and latched onto his foot. Before killing the Hydra, Heracles turned to Cancer and killed the crab. To honor Cancer’s obedience and sacrifice, Hera placed it amongst the stars.

Correspondences: loyalty, hanging on, distraction, persistence, sacrifice

Leo ☀️

In Greek mythology, Leo is represented by the Nemean lion which was killed by Heracles in the first of his twelve labours. The Nemean lion would capture women and bring them to his cave in order to lure heroes to come and rescue them, only to fall to their demise. No weapons were able to kill this beast, so Heracles killed it with only his hands, breaking the lion’s back. Since the lion’s pelt was so invincible, Heracles took the lion’s own claw to skin the pelt from it’s back, and wore it as a cloak for protection. To commemorate the lion, Zeus placed it in the sky.

Correspondences: guard, protection, invincibility, lure, determination

Virgo 🌱

Virgo is associated with the goddess Demeter, usually depicted with an ear of corn, and symbolizing fertility and harvest. Sometimes it is alternatively linked to Astraea, goddess of innocence and purity. In the creation myth, when Zeus sent Pandora to Earth and she released plagues and suffering, the gods returned to the heavens one by one. Astraea was the last to leave Earth, making her the primary caretaker of humanity, and it is said that when the Golden Age comes again, Astraea will return to Earth. It is debated whether or not Virgo is represented by Astraea, or her mother Themis, goddess of justice.

Correspondences: purity, harvest, creation, life, fertility, choice, justice, humanity, caretaking

Libra ⚖

Libra is represented by the scales, said to be the scales that the goddess Astraea held. It is also linked to Themis, mother of Astraea, as they sit beside one another in the sky.

Correspondences: justice, balance, humanity, choice, caretaking

Scorpio 🌊

The story of Scorpio is intertwined with the story of Orion. The giant hunter was the son of Poseidon and Euryale, and became Artemis’s hunting partner. This made Apollo, twin of Artemis, jealous. He asked Mother Earth to create a giant scorpion to kill Orion. The scorpion stung and killed Orion, and Zeus placed them both in the sky. In other versions of the myth, Orion had claimed to want to hunt and kill every animal on the Earth. This angered Gaia, mother of the Earth, and she sent Scorpio to kill him. The scorpion stung Orion, and Gaia placed him in the sky for his bravery and for saving the lives of all the animals. During the winter, Orion was allowed to hunt freely, but as spring came Scorpio rose in the sky, chasing the Orion constellation out of the sky.

Correspondences: jealousy, hunting, overcoming adversity, ambition, chasing, “stinging”

Sagittarius 🏹

Though this post is mostly focused on Greek myth, the Sagittarius constellation becomes difficult to explain without discussing the Babylonian influence. For Babylonains, Sagittaruis represented the god Nergal, who was half horse half human and had a second panther’s head, as well as a scorpion’s tail, and fired a bow and arrow through the sky. This god was identified as “Chief Ancestor” or “Forefather.” In Greek mythology, Sagittarius is represented as a centaur, but the bow and arrow comes from earlier Sumerian myth. Some say that Sagittarius represents the centaur Chiron, who turned himself into half horse half man in order to escape his jealous wife Rhea, as well as tutor the hero Jason. Some argue that Centaurus, a different constellation, instead represents Chiron. It is also said that Chiron placed both Sagittarius and Centaurus in the sky as constellations to help guide the Argonauts in their quest for the golden fleece.

Correspondences: targets/aim, escape, freedom, guidance, journey, ancestors, mentorship, teaching, learning

Capricorn 🐐

This constellation is often described as Amalthea, the goat that nurtured baby Zeus after his mother Rhea saved him from being eaten by Cronus. Amalthea’s broken horn was represented as the cornocopia, or the horn of plenty. According to other Greek myths, Capricorn is the sea-goat Pricus. Pricus was god of all sea-goats, who were intelligent and loved by the gods. The sea-goats lived close to shore, eventually learning to walk on land and losing their ability to think and speak. Pricus turned back time in attempt to stop this from happening, but the sea-goats left him once more. Pricus did not want to be alone as the last remaining sea-goat, so he asked Cronus to let him die. Since Pricus was immortal, he could not die, but instead was able to live in the sky as a constellation.

Correspondences: time, fate, intelligence, stubbornness, acceptance, solitude, independence

Aquarius 🌀

Represented by Ganymede, who was a young man beautiful enough that Zeus transformed into an eagle and kidnapped him to make him cup-bearer for the gods. The neighboring constellation, Aquila, represents the eagle. In other myths, Aquarius is represented by Deucalion, who worked together with his wife to build a ship which would help them survive a flood. It is also noteable that in Egyptian mythology, Aquarius was associated with the annual flooding of the Nile, and in Babylonian mythology, it was again associated with destruction from flooding.

Correspondences: flooding, overwhelming, beauty, uniqueness, service, survival

Pisces 💫

Pisces, according to Greek myth, represents Aphrodite and her son Eros. The two turned themselves into koi fish in order to escape the wrath of Typhon, father of all monsters, who was attempting to destroy the gods upon Gaia’s wishes. Pan was the first to hear about the oncoming attack, so he warned the other gods before turning himself into a goat-fish and jumping into the Euphrates.

Correspondences: escape, hiding, concealing, warnings, safety

tip jar / donations

100 notes · View notes

butterflies-dragons · 4 years

Photo

The quote you can read in the image is from Sansa III - A Game of Thrones. Who else could be better at telling us about stories and songs than the fairy tale princess of ASOIAF?

Well then, let’s talk about magical beasts and the true knights that do them no harm. Or, why I believe, among many other reasons, that Jon Snow is Sansa Stark’s wished/dreamed knight (*).

A WHITE HART IN THE KINGSWOOD

(Art credit: A New King by Dani-Owergoor)

First, a bit of background about the possible inspirations GRRM has used for the very rare and magical white hart:

‘Hart’ is an archaic word for a mature stag.

A stag is an adult male deer.

Deer were the only animals held sacred to the Greek goddess of the hunt Artemis herself. On seeing a deer larger than a bull with horns shining, she fell in love with these creatures and held them sacred.

The Celtic people considered them to be messengers from the otherworld.

Arthurian legend states that the creature has a perennial ability to evade capture, and that the pursuit of the animal represents mankind's spiritual quest.

The white stag is also prevalent in Hungarian mythology; it was believed that a white stag led the brothers Hunor and Magor to Scythia, an action which preceded the formation of the Hun and Magyar people.

In a French legend, anyone who killed a white hart was cursed with the pain of unrequited love. I didn’t find a better source for this one, but in the French/German movie La Belle et la Bête (2014), the Prince killed a deer and he was transformed into a beast in punishment.

In English Folklore, the white hart is associated with Herne the Hunter. Herne the Hunter is a ghost associated with Windsor Forest and Great Park in the English county of Berkshire.

Thanks to the legend of King David I of Scotland with a white hart, the animal became a symbol for christianity.

The White Hart was the personal badge of King Richard II of England. Richard's White Hart is recumbent and wears a gold crown as a collar, attached to a long gold chain.

Robert Baden-Powell, founder of the Scouting movement, spoke these words about the white stag: “The White Stag has a message for you. Hunters of old pursued the miraculous stag, not because they expected to kill it, but because it led them in the joy of the chase to new and fresh adventures, and so to capture happiness.”

The Chapter 17 of C. S. Lewis’ book The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, is called ‘The Hunting of the White Stag’: One day, Mr. Tumnus brings them news that a magic White Stag has been seen in the woods in the West. Anyone who catches the Stag is granted wishes, so the Kings and Queens go out to hunt for him.

As we can see, along the history, the white hart has been a sacred creature, blessed by gods, a messenger between worlds, an emblem for kings, a symbol for religions, and the guide of humanity in the greatest quests.

Now, let’s analyze its meaning inside the ASOIAF world.

A war galley of the royal fleet in service to the Iron Throne was called the White Hart.

During the events of A Game of Thrones, a white hart appeared in the kingswood and Robert Baratheon wanted to hunt it:

A white hart had been sighted in the kingswood, and Lord Renly and Ser Barristan had joined the king to hunt it, along with Prince Joffrey, Sandor Clegane, Balon Swann, and half the court. So Ned must needs sit the Iron Throne in his absence.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XI

The Baratheon sigil is a crowned black stag on a field of gold, so basically, King Robert wanted to hunt the rare white magical version of the animal symbol of his House. Robert Baratheon and his hunting crew, Joffrey included, are not true knight material.

After a time living in Kings Landing and knowing her betrothed a bit better, Sansa knew that Joffrey was not true knight material; deep down she knew about his killing/harming tendencies, yet she tried to accommodate Joff as someone that, at least, would never harm/kill innocent people:

“I had a dream that Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart,” she said. It had been more of a wish, actually, but it sounded better to call it a dream. Everyone knew that dreams were prophetic. White harts were supposed to be very rare and magical, and in her heart she knew her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father.

“A dream? Truly? Did Prince Joffrey just go up to it and touch it with his bare hand and do it no harm?”

“No,” Sansa said. “He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.” In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm, but she knew Joffrey liked hunting, especially the killing part. Only animals, though. Sansa was certain her prince had no part in murdering Jory and those other poor men; that had been his wicked uncle, the Kingslayer. She knew her father was still angry about that, but it wasn’t fair to blame Joff. That would be like blaming her for something that Arya had done.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

But even knowing that Joffrey likes the killing part of hunting, Sansa doesn’t use the word “kill” at all. She says: “Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart” / “her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father.” / “He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.” As if she was trying to say that Joffrey only captured the magical beast to bring it back for her, as a gift. Not its skin for a cloak, not its meat for a feast, but the rare animal itself would be the gift. And at this, I can only think that Sansa was remembering her late Lady. I will expand on this point later.

As you can see, Sansa elaborates a new song about Joffrey, her gallant prince, shooting the white hart with a golden arrow and bringing the magical beast back for her, as a gift. Now, the presence of the white hart and the addition of the golden arrow in Sansa’s retelling of the old songs, make me think about Artemis and her presence in a lot of fairy tales.

As I mentioned before, deer were the only animals held sacred to Artemis herself. And, another symbols of the Greek goddess are her bow and arrows, that happen to be golden. That’s why I think Sansa, in her innocence, imagines her prince shooting the white hart with a golden arrow, because the magic weapon from the gods themselves could wound the beast without killing it, allowing its capture saving Joffrey of punishment for the transgression of hunting a sacred animal. And I also think that GRRM has used Artemis and the legends around her in the events that followed the appearance of the white hart.

This version of Joffrey shooting the white hart with a golden arrow sounds pretty similar to the depiction of the Prince in the 2014 Franco-German film “La Belle et la Bête”:

At night, Belle has a vivid dream, revealing the backstory of the Prince: he enjoys hunting, but often ignores the Princess who loves him but is lonely. The Prince is after an elusive golden deer, and when the Princess asks him to stop hunting the deer, he promises to do so if she will give him a son. (...) Belle has one final dream about how the Prince broke his promise and killed the golden deer. While dying, the deer transformed into the Princess, revealing she was the Nymph of the Forest who became human because she wanted to experience love. She begged her father, the God of the Forest, to spare the Prince from his wrath. But he transformed the Prince into a beast, changed the hunting dogs into Tadums, and his friends into statues. The God of the Forest proclaimed that only the love of a woman would break the Beast's eternal curse.

This Prince that likes hunting and the ignored and lonely Princess, also remind me, differences aside, of King Robert and Queen Cersei.

So, if we follow the legends and songs, whoever killed the white hart would be punished by the gods. But in the end, neither Robert nor Joffrey killed the magical beast:

They found the white hart, it seems… or rather, what remained of it. Some wolves found it first, and left His Grace scarcely more than a hoof and a horn. Robert was in a fury, until he heard talk of some monstrous boar deeper in the forest. Then nothing would do but he must have it.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

In this passage, Littlefinger was updating Ned about King Robert’s hunting adventures in the kingswood. The wording here is very telling, it’s like Littlefinger was actually telling us the truth about King Robert’s hunting and his upcoming death.

It is possible that the white hart was only used to lure King Robert’s attention, taking him into the kingswood, lessening his protection, so the attempt of killing him would be easier. We know that Cersei plotted to kill Robert and after his death and Ned’s rejection of vowing for Joffrey, the Starks were framed as Robert’s killers, just like Littlefinger said the wolves killed the white hart. But the lions were the real kingslayers, with the complicity of the boar.

Again, the presence of the boar reminds me of Artemis:

The boar is one of the favorite animals of the hunters, and also hard to tame. In honor of Artemis' skill, they sacrificed it to her. Oineus and Adonis were both killed by Artemis' boar [x].

In some versions of the story of Adonis, Artemis sent a wild boar to kill Adonis as punishment for his hubristic boast that he was a better hunter than her [x].

Since Oineus had made sacrifices yearly to all the gods during the harvest ceremonies, but had omitted to honor Artemis, in anger she sent a boar of immense size to lay waste the district of Calydon [x].

As you can see, King Robert’s death seems like a recreation of Adonis or King Oienus myths, with the “monstrous boar” sent to kill him as punishment for his desire to hunt the white hart.

And please take note how very well crafted is the symbolism of King Robert’s and Ned Stark’s deaths, with the use of the animals of their sigils killing each other and how the true killers, the lions, are hidden:

A direwolf dead in the snow, a broken antler in its throat = Ned Stark’s death:

Catelyn wished she could share his joy. But she had heard the talk in the yards; a direwolf dead in the snow, a broken antler in its throat. Dread coiled within her like a snake, but she forced herself to smile at this man she loved, this man who put no faith in signs. "I knew that would please you," she said. "We should send word to your brother on the Wall."

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

Ned shook his head, refusing to believe. "Robert would never harm me or any of mine. We were closer than brothers. He loves me. If I refuse him, he will roar and curse and bluster, and in a week we will laugh about it together. I know the man!"

"You knew the man," she said. "The king is a stranger to you." Catelyn remembered the direwolf dead in the snow, the broken antler lodged deep in her throat. She had to make him see. "Pride is everything to a king, my lord. Robert came all this way to see you, to bring you these great honors, you cannot throw them back in his face."

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn II

But Ned’s killer was a fake stag, Joffrey, who was truly a lion...

A white hart dead in the kingswood, the wolves left just a hoof and a horn = King Robert Baratheon’s death:

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XII

But King Robert’s killers were the lions, Cersei and Lancel...

And talking about lions, let’s go to our next magical beast:

HRAKKAR, THE WHITE LION OF THE DOTHRAKI SEA

(Art credit: White Lion and Full Moon by deskridge)

‘Hrakkar’ are a breed of white lion native to the Dothraki sea.

I’m not sure if the hrakkar is rare and magical and subject of legends like the the white hart, but it seems like its hunt and capture is important for the Dothraki:

"This day I will go to the grass and hunt, woman wife," he announced as he shrugged into a painted vest and buckled on a wide belt with heavy medallions of silver, gold, and bronze.

"Yes, my sun-and-stars," Dany said. Drogo would take his bloodriders and ride in search of hrakkar, the great white lion of the plains. If they returned triumphant, her lord husband's joy would be fierce, and he might be willing to hear her out.

(...)

The brazier was cold again by the time Khal Drogo returned. Cohollo was leading a packhorse behind him, with the carcass of a great white lion slung across its back. Above, the stars were coming out. The khal laughed as he swung down off his stallion and showed her the scars on his leg where the hrakkar had raked him through his leggings. "I shall make you a cloak of its skin, moon of my life," he swore.

—A Game of Thrones - Daenerys VI

Then, after Drogo’s death, Dany wears the pelt of the hrakkar as a way to remember her late husband:

Her hair had burned away in Drogo's pyre, so her handmaids garbed her in the skin of the hrakkar Drogo had slain, the white lion of the Dothraki sea. Its fearsome head made a hood to cover her naked scalp, its pelt a cloak that flowed across her shoulders and down her back. The cream-colored dragon sunk sharp black claws into the lion's mane and coiled its tail around her arm, while Ser Jorah took his accustomed place by her side.

—A Clash of Kings - Daenerys I

It was Drogo who had given her the pelt she wore, the head and hide of a hrakkar, the white lion of the Dothraki sea. It was too big for her and had a musty smell, but it made her feel as if her sun-and-stars was still near her

—A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys I

Also, during her visit to the House of the Undying, Daenerys has a series of visions, one of them was the hrakkar:

Faster and faster the visions came, one after the other (...) A white lion ran through grass taller than a man (...)

—A Clash of Kings - Daenerys IV

I have no more to say about the hrakkar, but it’s very interesting the parallels between Robert, Cersei and the white hart, with Drogo, Daenerys and the hrakkar:

King Robert Baratheon pursued to kill the white hart.

Khal Drogo killed the hrakkar.

King Robert Baratheon’s wife, Cersei Lannister, willingly plotted to kill him with the help of Lancel Lannister and the fortunate intervention of a monstrous boar.

Khal Drogo’s wife, Daenerys Targaryen, unwillingly participated in Drogo’s death by requesting Mirri Maz Duur to attend a wound in Drogo’s chest, and later, requesting that the maegi practice blood magic to save Drogo’s life. As a result, Khal Drogo got catatonic and Daenerys killed her husband smothering him with a pillow.

Cersei Lannister later framed Ned Stark as the traitor that plotted King Robert’s downfall and death. Ned Stark was beheaded for treason.

Daenerys Targaryen later blamed Mirri Maz Duur for Drogo’s downfall and death. Mirri Maz Duur was burned alive for treason.

As I said before, it’s very interesting that King Robert and Drogo (Cersei’s and Dany’s husbands) went to hunt these beasts: the white hart and the hrakkar, and later both men died, killed by their own wives. As if the gods really punish the ones that kill or pursue to kill the magical white beasts...

But there is a white magical beast that was found by someone that, despite not being a proper knight, embodied all those vows and acted like a true knight in a song:

GHOST, THE ALBINO DIREWOLF

(Art credit: White Wolf by Kay-Ra )

A PACK OF DIREWOLVES FOUND IN THE SUMMER SNOWS

As we already know, everything started with The Starks, GRRM’s favorite House:

Jen Louise says: Have you got a favourite House?

Probably the Starks. After all, it all began with the Starks.

—GRRM Empire Webchat Transcript 2012

RS: You’ve talked before about the original glimpse of the story you had for what became A Song of Ice and Fire: a spontaneous vision in your mind of a boy witnessing a beheading, then finding direwolves in the snow. That’s an interesting genesis.

GRRM: It was the summer of 1991. I was still involved in Hollywood. My agent was trying to get me meetings to pitch my ideas, but I didn’t have anything to do in May and June. It had been years since I wrote a novel. I had an idea for a science-fiction novel called Avalon. I started work on it and it was going pretty good, when suddenly it just came to me, this scene, from what would ultimately be the first chapter of A Game of Thrones. It’s from Bran’s viewpoint; they see a man beheaded and they find some direwolf pups in the snow. It just came to me so strongly and vividly that I knew I had to write it. I sat down to write, and in, like, three days it just came right out of me, almost in the form you’ve read.

—Rolling Stone 2014

The finding of the direwolves in the summer snows is a very important event of the story, part of the start point of the whole series.

The fact that this generation of Stark kids got a direwolf for each of them is very significant and extraordinaire. The direwolves are connected to the Old Gods of the North and the Children of the Forest:

"Only one man in a thousand is born a skinchanger," Lord Brynden said one day, after Bran had learned to fly, "and only one skinchanger in a thousand can be a greenseer."

"I thought the greenseers were the wizards of the children," Bran said. "The singers, I mean."

"In a sense. Those you call the children of the forest have eyes as golden as the sun, but once in a great while one is born amongst them with eyes as red as blood, or green as the moss on a tree in the heart of the forest. By these signs do the gods mark those they have chosen to receive the gift. The chosen ones are not robust, and their quick years upon the earth are few, for every song must have its balance. But once inside the wood they linger long indeed. A thousand eyes, a hundred skins, wisdom deep as the roots of ancient trees. Greenseers."

—A Dance with Dragons - Bran III

As you can see, the eyes’s colors of the Children of the Forest match the eyes’s colors of the Stark kid’s direwolves: Grey Wind, Lady, Nymeria and Summer have golden eyes. Ghost has red eyes and Shaggydog has green eyes.

And we all know that the six Stark kids are skinchanger or wargs:

Are all the Stark children wargs/skin changers with their wolves?

To a greater or lesser degree, yes, but the amount of control varies widely.

[Source]

Oh, George said all the Stark children of this generation were full Wargs. I thought they were like one shot Wargs and were only bonded to their wolves but no they can warg into just about anything. Bran is just the only one working on it.

[Source]

GRRM has also reminded us time after time that each of the direwolves is a part of their masters:

They were all staring at him, but it was Sansa's look that cut. "She is of the north. She deserves better than a butcher."

He left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter's wails echoing in his ears, and found the direwolf pup where they chained her. Ned sat beside her for a while. "Lady," he said, tasting the name. He had never paid much attention to the names the children had picked, but looking at her now, he knew that Sansa had chosen well. She was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting. She looked at him with bright golden eyes, and he ruffled her thick grey fur.

Shortly, Jory brought him Ice.

When it was over, he said, "Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell."

"All that way?" Jory said, astonished.

"All that way," Ned affirmed. "The Lannister woman shall never have this skin."

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard III

"A hall is no place for a wolf. He gets restless, you've seen. Growling and snapping. I should never have taken him into battle with me. He's killed too many men to fear them now. Jeyne's anxious around him, and he terrifies her mother."

And there's the heart of it, Catelyn thought. "He is part of you, Robb. To fear him is to fear you."

"I am not a wolf, no matter what they call me." Robb sounded cross. "Grey Wind killed a man at the Crag, another at Ashemark, and six or seven at Oxcross. If you had seen—"

"I saw Bran's wolf tear out a man's throat at Winterfell," she said sharply, "and loved him for it."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn II

When he finally put the quill down, the room was dim and chilly, and he could feel its walls closing in. Perched above the window, the Old Bear's raven peered down at him with shrewd black eyes. My last friend, Jon thought ruefully. And I had best outlive you, or you'll eat my face as well. Ghost did not count. Ghost was closer than a friend. Ghost was part of him.

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon III

Catelyn and Ned reflected about the importance of the direwolves and how it was probable that the old gods have sent the magical beasts for their children:

She put a finger to his lips. "Let me tell it all, my love. It will go faster that way. Listen."

So he listened, and she told it all, from the fire in the library tower to Varys and the guardsmen and Littlefinger. And when she was done, Eddard Stark sat dazed beside the table, the dagger in his hand. Bran's wolf had saved the boy's life, he thought dully. What was it that Jon had said when they found the pups in the snow? Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord. And he had killed Sansa's, and for what? Was it guilt he was feeling? Or fear? If the gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done?

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard IV

She showed Brienne her palms, her fingers. "These scars . . . they sent a man to cut Bran's throat as he lay sleeping. He would have died then, and me with him, but Bran's wolf tore out the man's throat." That gave her a moment's pause. "I suppose Theon killed the wolves too. He must have, elsewise . . . I was certain the boys would be safe so long as the direwolves were with them. Like Robb with his Grey Wind. But my daughters have no wolves now."

—A Clash of Kings - Catelyn VII

"Any man Grey Wind mislikes is a man I do not want close to you. These wolves are more than wolves, Robb. You must know that. I think perhaps the gods sent them to us. Your father's gods, the old gods of the north. Five wolf pups, Robb, five for five Stark children."

"Six," said Robb. "There was a wolf for Jon as well. I found them, remember? I know how many there were and where they came from. I used to think the same as you, that the wolves were our guardians, our protectors, until . . ."

"Until?" she prompted.

Robb's mouth tightened. ". . . .until they told me that Theon had murdered Bran and Rickon. Small good their wolves did them. I am no longer a boy, Mother. I'm a king, and I can protect myself." He sighed. "I will find some duty for Ser Rolph, some pretext to send him away. Not because of his smell, but to ease your mind. You have suffered enough."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn II

And there is also the fact that three Stark men have died after saying the direwolves’s names:

Robb died after pronouncing his direwolf’s name: Grey Wind.

"Yes. Robb, get up. Get up and walk out, please, please. Save yourself . . . if not for me, for Jeyne." "Jeyne?" Robb grabbed the edge of the table and forced himself to stand. "Mother," he said, "Grey Wind . . ." "Go to him. Now. Robb, walk out of here."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn VII

Jon died after pronouncing his direwolf’s name: Ghost.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon XIII

Ned pronounced Sansa’s direwolf name: Lady, before killing the pup. And later he was executed after confessing treason as a way to save Sansa’s life:

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard III

"If I did, my word would be as hollow as an empty suit of armor. My life is not so precious to me as that."

"Pity." The eunuch stood. "And your daughter's life, my lord? How precious is that?"

A chill pierced Ned's heart. "My daughter …"

"Surely you did not think I'd forgotten about your sweet innocent, my lord? The queen most certainly has not."

"No," Ned pleaded, his voice cracking. "Varys, gods have mercy, do as you like with me, but leave my daughter out of your schemes. Sansa's no more than a child."

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard XV

Ned’s case is different, because he didn’t die immediately after saying Lady’s name, but he said Lady’s name just before he killed the direwolf. Later though, Ned died while hearing Sansa’s screams and hysterical sobbing.

By killing Lady, Ned killed a part of Sansa, his own daughter, so he not only killed a magical beast, but this could also be considered kinslaying, both crimes forbidden and punished by the gods.

So, the pack of direwolves found in the summer snows are magical creatures probably sent to this generation of Stark kids by the Old Gods. The direwolves sound like the rare and magical beasts from the songs that Sansa mentioned in AGOT when she knew about the white hart sighted in the kingswood.

While listing the possible inspirations that GRRM has used for the white hart, I found out that along the history, the white hart has been a sacred creature, blessed by gods, a messenger between worlds, an emblem for kings, a symbol for religions, and the guide of humanity in the greatest quests. And the direwolves fit every criteria of that list: they are sacred creatures, blessed by the Old Gods of the North, messengers, guardians and protectors for the Stark kids, the sigil of House Stark and the old Kings of Winter, symbols of the Old Gods and the guide of the Stark kids for their greatest quest: The Long Night and the Battle for the Dawn.

Now let’s talk about a particular direwolf, Ghost:

IN THE SONGS, THE KNIGHTS NEVER KILLED MAGICAL BEASTS, THEY JUST WENT UP TO THEM AND TOUCHED THEM AND DID THEM NO HARM

Earlier in this post I mentioned that even knowing that Joffrey likes the killing part of hunting, Sansa doesn’t use the word “kill” at all, when she told Jeyne about her dream of Joffrey “taking the white hart and bringing it back to her”.

Sansa told to Jeyne: “Joffrey would be the one to take the white hart” / “her gallant prince was worthier than his drunken father.” / “He shot it with a golden arrow and brought it back for me.” As if she was trying to say that Joffrey only captured the magical beast to bring it back for her, as a gift. And when I read that I thought that Sansa was remembering Lady. Why, you may ask? Because her brothers have actually found magical beasts in the summer snows:

“A wolf,” Robb told him. “A freak,” Greyjoy said. “Look at the size of it.” (...) “It’s no freak,” Jon said calmly. “That’s a direwolf. They grow larger than the other kind.” Theon Greyjoy said, “There’s not been a direwolf sighted south of the Wall in two hundred years.” “I see one now,” Jon replied. Bran tore his eyes away from the monster. That was when he noticed the bundle in Robb’s arms. He gave a cry of delight and moved closer. The pup was a tiny ball of grey-black fur, its eyes still closed. It nuzzled blindly against Robb’s chest as he cradled it, searching for milk among his leathers, making a sad little whimpery sound. Bran reached out hesitantly. “Go on,” Robb told him. “You can touch him.” Bran gave the pup a quick nervous stroke, then turned as Jon said, “Here you go.” His half brother put a second pup into his arms. “There are five of them.” Bran sat down in the snow and hugged the wolf pup to his face. Its fur was soft and warm against his cheek.

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

First thing to note is that the Stark kids: Jon, Robb and Bran are true knight material = In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm. But the rest of the Stark crew... not so much:

“No matter,” said Hullen. “They be dead soon enough too.”

Bran gave a wordless cry of dismay.

“The sooner the better,” Theon Greyjoy agreed. He drew his sword. “Give the beast here, Bran.”

The little thing squirmed against him, as if it heard and understood. “No!” Bran cried out fiercely. “It’s mine.”

“Put away your sword, Greyjoy,” Robb said. For a moment he sounded as commanding as their father, like the lord he would someday be. “We will keep these pups.”

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

But while Robb and Bran were fiercely defending the pups against Theon’s attempt to kill them, Jon Snow was thinking for a better and lasting solution:

“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”

“What of it, Jon?”

“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”

Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.

Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.

“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

Jon Snow saved the direwolf pups! He sacrificed himself so his siblings/cousins could keep them. And he was rewarded for it. He got a very special direwolf pup for himself.

Yes! Within the significant scene of the elder Stark boys finding the first five direwolves, Jon Snow finding the sixth one, Ghost, the albino direwolf, is the one that stands out:

Halfway across the bridge, Jon pulled up suddenly.

“What is it, Jon?” their lord father asked.

“Can’t you hear it?”

Bran could hear the wind in the trees, the clatter of their hooves on the ironwood planks, the whimpering of his hungry pup, but Jon was listening to something else.

"There," Jon said. He swung his horse around and galloped back across the bridge. They watched him dismount where the direwolf lay dead in the snow, watched him kneel. A moment later he was riding back to them, smiling.

"He must have crawled away from the others," Jon said.

"Or been driven away," their father said, looking at the sixth pup. His fur was white, where the rest of the litter was grey. His eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who had died that morning. Bran thought it curious that this pup alone would have opened his eyes while the others were still blind.

"An albino," Theon Greyjoy said with wry amusement. "This one will die even faster than the others."

Jon Snow gave his father's ward a long, chilling look. "I think not, Greyjoy," he said. "This one belongs to me."

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

GRRM didn’t give us Sansa, Arya and Rickon reaction to the direwolves from their POV, we just got this bit from Catelyn’s:

He lifted his head to look at her. "Catelyn," he said. His voice was distant and formal. "Where are the children?"

He would always ask her that. "In the kitchen, arguing about names for the wolf pups." She spread her cloak on the forest floor and sat beside the pool, her back to the weirwood. She could feel the eyes watching her, but she did her best to ignore them. "Arya is already in love, and Sansa is charmed and gracious, but Rickon is not quite sure."

"Is he afraid?" Ned asked.

"A little," she admitted. "He is only three."

Ned frowned. "He must learn to face his fears. He will not be three forever. And winter is coming."

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

But knowing Sansa, grand connaisseur of songs and stories, I can clearly imagine her reaction at the tale told by her brothers of how they found the six pups in the summer snows, very similar to this one:

The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond. Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even the mud puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice.

So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he'd dreamed of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.

—A Clash of Kings - Jon III

Sansa would have called the tale a song, she would have declared the direwolves magical beasts, and she would have proclaimed her brothers true knights.

And I bet she would have been particularly fascinated by Ghost, the albino one, the rarest of the pack due to his coloring and being mute. And Ghost was only found at the end by Jon alone. And I still wonder how could Jon hear the little pup when we all know Ghost is mute.

See? Jon Snow is literally Sansa Stark’s wished/dreamed knight from the songs, he found, protected and saved the magical white beast, so different to Joffrey and the rest of false knights and butchers she has encountered so far.

And I thought Ghost would be of great importance not only for Jon but also for Sansa in the future Books.

Ghost is the third magical white beast presented in ASOIAF, next to the white hart and the hrakkar.

Ghost is also the third albino creature presented in ASOIAF, next to Bloodraven and the Ghost of High Heart, a rumored Children of the Forest.

Ghost also shared its colors with the weirwood tree:

WHITE AS BONE, RED AS BLOOD

Have you ever stopped to think about how Ghost is always described as the weirwood tree?

The weirwood is a species of deciduous trees found in Westeros, now found most commonly in the north and beyond the Wall.

The five-pointed leaves and the sap of weirwoods are blood-red, while the smooth bark on their wide trunks and wood are bone white. Most weirwoods have faces carved into their trunks. This was done by the children of the forest in ancient days, and is now done by the free folk as well as other descendants of the First Men, such as followers of the old gods in the Seven Kingdoms praying to heart trees in godswoods. In some cases sap has collected in the crevices of the carved faces, giving the trees red eyes which have been known to drip sap as if the trees were weeping. A weirwood will live forever if undisturbed.

Weirwoods are considered sacred to the followers of the old gods, and children of the forest believe weirwoods are the gods. [x]

The weirwood tree is also called the heart tree:

At the center of the grove an ancient weirwood brooded over a small pool where the waters were black and cold. "The heart tree," Ned called it. The weirwood's bark was white as bone, its leaves dark red, like a thousand bloodstained hands. A face had been carved in the trunk of the great tree, its features long and melancholy, the deep-cut eyes red with dried sap and strangely watchful. They were old, those eyes; older than Winterfell itself. They had seen Brandon the Builder set the first stone, if the tales were true; they had watched the castle's granite walls rise around them. It was said that the children of the forest had carved the faces in the trees during the dawn centuries before the coming of the First Men across the narrow sea.

—A Game of Thrones - Catelyn I

Now, let’s see how Ghost is described:

"He must have crawled away from the others," Jon said.

—A Game of Thrones - Bran I

And suddenly Ghost was back, stalking softly between two weirwoods. White fur and red eyes, Jon realized, disquieted. Like the trees …

—A Game of Thrones - Jon VI

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

The most famous weirwood tree in Westeros is the one in the godswood of Winterfell:

When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said … but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

As the weirwood is called the heart of Winterfell, Ghost is also part of Jon:

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon III

So, in Ghost, we have a symbol of the weirwood tree, and the children of the forest believe that the weirwoods are the old gods themselves.

As I already said in other metas, Ghost and Lady are presented in the Books, as complementary and shared very interesting parallels and contrasts: [x] [x].

Indeed, with Jon’s death and the previous death of Lady, we have two Stark kids incomplete. Throughout the books we have read many times that the direwolves are part of the Stark kids. Sansa lost her direwolf and then Ghost lost its master. So, after that, I think that Sansa and Jon will be a great complement for each other’s lost part.

And I think George has hinted at that with this passage:

When Sansa opened her eyes again, she was on her knees. She did not remember falling. It seemed to her that the sky was a lighter shade of grey. Dawn, she thought. Another day. Another new day. It was the old days she hungered for. Prayed for. But who could she pray to? The garden had been meant for a godswood once, she knew, but the soil was too thin and stony for a weirwood to take root. A godswood without gods, as empty as me.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa VII

After leaving Winterfell, Sansa lived in the Red Keep and in the Eyrie, both castles without a weirwood: The heart tree of the Red Keep’s godswood was a great oak and the Eyrie’s godswood has no heart tree at all. Sansa lost Lady, Sansa lost part of her, Sansa lost the weirwood of her her godswood. A role that Ghost could easily play for her.

To sum it up:

The weirwood tree is called a heart tree, and Winterfell’s weirwood tree in particular is called the heart of Winterfell.

The weirwood is a part of Winterfell (its heart) and Ghost is also part of Jon.

Ghost is a symbol of the weirwood tree, and the children of the forest believe that the weirwoods are the old gods themselves.

Sansa lost Lady, her direwolf and part of her.

Sansa, after leaving Winterfell, has lived in castles with godswoods without gods (without a weirwood).

Sansa felt as empty as a godswood without gods (without a weirwood).

Ghost could be the missed weirwood for Sansa’s empty godswood.

Jon and Sansa sharing Ghost, a symbol of the weirwood tree (heart tree), would be as if they share the same heart.

Jon and Sansa sharing Ghost would be like a recreation of the song called “Two Hearts that beat as one”. They would be two souls sharing the same heart.

I would call this song: “One heart that beat for two souls”. Which reminds me of my favorite e.e. cummings’ poem: i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart). Which is also the title of a larger “unfinished” meta of mine where I vastly explore Jon and Sansa’s connections with Winterfell and the heart tree (I put parts of it in this post).

So there you have it. Jon Snow finding a magical white beast in the summer snows, coming for it, touching it and doing it no harm, could be the beginning of a great song about two souls sharing the same heart.

“In the songs, the knights never killed magical beasts, they just went up to them and touched them and did them no harm”

“There is a song about the Queen in the North and the White Wolf, it is a story about two souls sharing the same heart “

(*) I dedicate this post to @shieldofrohan; because, as she loves to say, she bullied me and annoyed me so much and for so long, that I ended up finishing this meta. She has promised to keep being an annoying bully to me until I finish all my “unfinished” metas.

#Sansa Stark #Jon Snow #Sansa x Jon #Jon x Sansa #jonsa

127 notes · View notes