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bumblesimagines · 11 months

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Under The Moonlight

Part 15

Request: Yes or No

Officially putting this on hiatus until season 3 comes out!

~~~

Cold.

Why did he feel so cold?

The noises around him sounded muffled and distant. His body moved on its own, swaying and floating... floating? He took in a breath and immediately regretted it as water invaded his mouth and throat. His eyes snapped open. Murky water surrounded him. His legs began kicking wildly under him, fear clutching his chest. His instinct overrode the fear and he looked up, following the light shimmering above him and breaking through the surface. The water continued to drag him as he attempted to stay above water until he reached a shallower part of the river, hands clumsily grabbing onto the smooth rocks under the water. His chest burned and his head ached.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), are you alright?" He groaned in response, stumbling slightly as he got to his feet, the weight of his drenched clothes pulling him off balance. Hands grabbed his arms to keep him steady and he squinted through the pain, seeing the familiar face of Brigtoc. She seemed fine, just drenched from head to toe. She winced and released him, reaching down to the ends of her cream-colored dress and ripping off a piece.

"The others?"

"I am not sure." She answered, pressing the cloth against his temple. He hissed when it stung and leaned his head back, spotting the red spreading across the cloth.

"Are you two alright?" They turned to look at Batu making his way down the bank toward them with one of the oars in hand. Brigtoc exhaled in relief, shoulders slumping slightly at the sight of him alive and well. Batu swept his gaze around the area and frowned when he couldn't spot the others. His eyes settled on (Y/N)'s temple and he sucked his teeth, leaning forward to look at the injury. "You must've hit your head. Looks like a cut, nothin' serious."

"Good," (Y/N) sighed, taking the cloth from Brigtoc and keeping it pressed against his temple. "Come, we must head back to the falls. Everyone else will likely regroup there."

"The boat couldn't have gotten far either." Batu nodded, tucking the large oar under his armpit and marching forward, occasionally calling out for Kaysan. Their journey downstream led them to Eleana, Kaysan, and Kurya across the river.

"Have you seen the others?" Kaysan asked, standing up from his crouched position beside Kurya. Kurya seemed fine as well, apart from coughing up some water.

"No." Batu crossed the shallow river and dropped the oar on the ground before tossing his arms around his friend and chuckling. (Y/N) followed him, glancing back at Brigtoc when she nearly slipped and fell. The redhead paused for a moment, staring upstream at two figures approaching them.

"Dorn!" She called out and (Y/N) looked over his shoulders, spotting Leif and Dorn. The young girl had her arm around Leif's shoulders and she walked with a visible limp. Batu ran over to them, taking Dorn's other arm and helping them quicken the pace.

"Your head-"

"I'm fine, Eleana." (Y/N) murmured, touching her arm and smiling. With most of the group reunited, they were only missing three members. Cadlin, Mariam, and... Harald. Leif surveyed their surroundings before nodding for everyone to continue their trek downstream in search of the boat and the others. They were able to locate the boat and soon spotted Mariam collecting some rope.

Jogging forward, Leif called out, "Mariam!" The woman turned her head in his direction, a smile breaking out on her face. She stood up and opened her arms, embracing Leif when he got close enough.

"I am fine." She assured, looking over everyone as they gathered before frowning. "But the Pechenegs took Harald. He convinced them we were all dead."

"What colors did they wear?" Kurya asked, a slight panic in his voice.

"Red and white."

"It was not the Khan then. Probably a tribe from the east." Kurya breathed in relief. (Y/N) gazed into the forest and walked forward, spotting the horse tracks. Along with footprints that would turn into streaks and then back into footprints. They were dragging Harald back to their camp. (Y/N) took in a deep breath and turned to look at his brother. Leif nodded at him, securing his axe to his side and stepping forward.

"(Y/N) and I are going to find Harald."

"We'll go with you," Kaysan called.

"No. You are needed here to right the boat." Leif dismissed with a shake of his head. Eleana grabbed a quiver still containing arrows and slipped it around her shoulder. She met the gazes of Brigtoc and Dorn, nodding to the girls and looking back at Leif.

"Then we're going."

"And me too." Kurya chimed in. "I'm the only one who knows their camps. I'm your best hope of surviving."

With the crew divided, Batu handed Dorn his blade and Brigtoc took an axe from the weapon's barrel. Batu and Kaysan stayed behind with Mariam to get the boat water ready. Placing Kurya's hand on his shoulder, Leif set off with the others, following the tracks in the dirt. From the direction they were headed in, (Y/N) deducted the camp near the river had been the ones to take Harald. It seemed small enough but the Pechenegs were ruthless warriors. It didn't take long to find the camp with the sound of loud chatter, horses, and dogs echoing through the trees. Once close, they ducked down and climbed a small hill to observe the camp.

"I smell fire," Kurya whispered.

"There is a camp below us. Eight tents. Many horses and some dogs." Leif described for him.

"It is a raiding camp. Harald would be there. Can you see the Khan's main camp?" Kurya asked and they craned their necks to look past the sparse trees behind the camp. In the distance, they could see the start of a larger camp. More tents, more warriors.

"Yes." (Y/N) breathed, fingers anxiously digging into the dirt.

"(Y/N), Kurya, and I will bargain with the leader for Harald. If they don't bring us horses, it means we failed and they will know that there are others. You must get back to the boat and leave as soon as possible." Leif instructed the girls and took Kurya's hand once more, placing it on his shoulder. But Eleana shook her head.

"We won't leave without everyone."

"When the warlord sees me, he will be required to send for the Khan and my brother will return with many warriors," Kurya told her with a small frown. (Y/N) reached for Eleana's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. She met his gaze and shook her head again, placing her hand over his and wrapping her fingers around his palm.

"You must go if the plan fails. The others will rely on you to get them to Constantinople." (Y/N) spoke softly, lifting his brows at her. Eleana dug her teeth into her bottom lip and sighed in defeat. With the plan fresh on everyone's minds, (Y/N) and the other two men stood up and began heading down to the camp. They kept low to the ground to avoid being spotted, maneuvering through the trees.

"Hey," Kurya called out to them softly. "You must promise me something. The Khan will return with many men and they will catch you if you try to take me with you."

"We didn't come all this way to leave you behind, Kurya," Leif protested quietly.

"But I did." Kurya fished a necklace out of his shirt, holding it up for them to see. It contained a tiny container at the end of it. Realization settled on Leif's features when he noticed it. "Mariam gave this to me. By bringing me this far, you have given me the chance to redeem myself to Ulgen the Allfather of my faith. Now when I die, he will turn my spirit into a bird and I will fly to Ocmah, where my wife has been waiting for me for a long time."

Tucking the necklace back into Kurya's shirt, Leif lightly shook his head. "She's going to have to wait a little longer, my friend." Rising to their feet, (Y/N) slipped his dagger out of his sheath and wrapped his arm around Kurya's shoulders. Pressing the blade gently against Kurya's neck, they moved forward toward the entrance of the camp. The men there spoke in a language (Y/N) couldn't understand but he saw the way their eyes slightly widened at the sight of Kurya. They held their weapons tightly but made no move to stop them as they headed toward the warlord's tent.

And within the tent, (Y/N) saw Harald.

Hooks were impeded into Harald's chest muscles with ropes tied to them, holding Harald up in the air. His hands remained tied behind his back and a light sheen of sweat covered his body. Purple and red-coated Harald's neck, confirming (Y/N)'s suspicions. Harald had been dragged to the camp by rope. The way he'd been strung up nearly made bile rise up in (Y/N)'s throat. Harald panted and heaved, groaning in pain.

"Cut him down or we'll kill him," Leif ordered, widened eyes tearing away from Harald to look at the man sitting on the chair. The warlord held a skull in his hand which he appeared to drink from. The warlord set the skull down and slowly rose from his seat, staring at Kurya with a small sneer. "You know who this is? Do you?"

"This is the brother of the Khan." The warlord murmured.

"He has a bounty on his head, which we are willing to trade to you for the Norse and three horses," Leif explained and (Y/N) pressed the blade against Kurya's throat. The warlord's jaw tightened and he inhaled, nostrils flaring and hands curling into fists. He turned to look at one of his men, speaking in a foreign language before nodding to the other two holding the ropes that kept Harald up. The two men released the ropes and Harald fell down onto his knees with a grunt and pained groan. The first man glared them down, brushing past them and leaving the tent. The ropes were cut from Harald's hands and the hooks pulled out of his skin. Harald leaned over in pain and staggered onto his feet, blood seeping down from the holes in his chest.

"Never felt better." Harald strained quietly, attempting to be reassuring.

"Now, the horses." Leif turned back to the warlord but then swords pressed against his and (Y/N)'s necks, forcing (Y/N) to remove his dagger from Kurya's neck. The warlord smirked at them and slowly clapped his hands as laughter spread through the tent. (Y/N)'s arms were suddenly restrained, causing the dagger to fall to the ground with a clatter. The three were dragged out of the tent and toward some thin logs. (Y/N) was placed behind one of the sets, his legs kicked out from under him and arms pulled out to each side of him. His wrists were tightly bound and he looked out at Harald and Leif as the same was done to them.

"I hope you have another plan." Harald breathed, gaze flickering between the two brothers. The warlord stepped out from his tent, holding (Y/N)'s dagger in his hands. He inspected the blade thoroughly, the smirk still present on his face. He strode toward the middle and spoke out in his language. Whatever he said earned him some laughter and he smirked at the men, pointing the dagger at Harald then Leif, and then (Y/N). His smirk only widened and a man roughly pulled up the back of (Y/N)'s shirt. The warlord moved around (Y/N) and hummed quietly, dragging the tip of his sword softly across his skin.

"Let's see how sharp this blade of yours is, Viking."

The fire crackled loudly but through his tears, it only looked like a blur. The disgusting cackle of the Christian echoed in his ears, sending a shiver of fear down his back. His small hands bundled up the ends of his shirt and he stood up, stumbling around a bit. He had to run. He had to find his mother. (Y/N) didn't get a chance to step forward before a foot slammed against his back, sending him falling onto the grass. A soft grunt escaped him and he winced at the aching. Moving onto his back, he looked up at the Christian with wide eyes, soft sobs escaping him and making his shoulders shake.

"Pagan filth." The man sneered, slipping his sword out of its sheath. The tip of the blade pressed lightly against his forehead and he squeezed his eyes shut, praying that Allfather would allow him into Valhalla where he could wait for his mother. The pressure of the blade disappeared and he dared open his eyes. "I ought to teach you a lesson, boy." The man spat and he pressed the blade down into (Y/N) shoulder. Pain erupted through his body, only intensifying when the sword dragged down his chest. The tears spilled freely down his skin, incoherent pleas and babbles escaping his cracked lips. The pain wrapped around him like a snake, constricting him more and more until he could hardly breathe. Black spots began filling his vision but he was able to see the moment his attacker bled and his mother's soothing voice filled his ears.

He could still see it just as vividly as the day it happened. His home burning mere feet from him. He could still feel the warmth of the fire and how the smoke rose so high in the air he wondered which of the neighboring villages could see it. When the blade pierced into his back, he only shakily exhaled. His scar ached and burned with the memory. A memory he had tried so hard to bury. His fingers wrapped around the rope keeping him still, wrists wriggling wildly to get free. His teeth grinded together and his eyes squeezed shut, taking in deep breaths. He tried to ignore how the laughter of the warlord mixed with the echo of the Christian. Harald and Leif both squirmed in their restraints, sneering at the warlord and hurling insults but the warlord continued, slicing lines into (Y/N)'s back.

Until an arrow whizzed past his head and buried itself into a tent, the fire on its tips spreading rapidly. Another arrow flew by, hitting and covering another tent in flames. (Y/N) felt the rope burn into his wrists but he continued wriggling them until he slipped free from the restraints. Kicking out his foot, he hit the ankle of the panicked warlord, causing him to lose his footing and drop the dagger. (Y/N) didn't think twice before grabbing his dagger and forcing the warlord on his back. Lifting the dagger, he brought it down on the warlord's head repeatedly as chaos spread throughout the camp. Frightened horses ran wild, running over Pechenegs and disappearing into the forest. Eleana rode in on one, shooting arrows at any Pechenge that charged at her while Brigtoc and Dorn freed Leif and Harald.

"(Y/N), come on!" Leif called, freeing Kurya from his restraints but his words went in one ear and out the other. (Y/N) felt the blood spray on his face and clothes but didn't stop, even when the warlord became unrecognizable. It was only when strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him off the warlord that he finally saw something other than his attacker and his destroyed home. Harald heaved in pain, pulling (Y/N) along to a horse. (Y/N) panted softly and sheathed his dagger, noticing his stained hands as he got on the back of the horse. His arms tiredly wrapped around Harald's waist, face burying into Harald's back.

The horses raced through the forest and back to the boat where Batu and Kaysan had gotten it upright again. But it still needed to be pushed off the shallow bank. Brigtoc and Dorn slipped off their horses and raced over to help them. Eleana got off her horse and turned around, helping (Y/N) and Harald get off their horse. They immediately went toward the boat when Leif shouted that the Khan had followed them, helping push against it despite the pain. (Y/N)'s mind felt fuzzy and jumbled but he still pressed his wet hands against the boat and pushed, waves of stinging and pain shooting down his back.

"Kurya!" Dorn screamed for the man and (Y/N) looked over his shoulder, spotting him turn and walk back in the direction of the Khan. Despite everyone's protests, Kurya continued and disappeared into the forest. After more pushing, the boat finally slipped into deep enough water to float. Harald immediately wrapped his arms around (Y/N) and lifted him up, grunting when his wounds were pressed against. (Y/N) climbed into the boat and whimpered. With the adrenaline fading, (Y/N) now had to face a new world of pain. Everyone else scrambled to get on board and into positions, using the oars to push the boat further out. (Y/N) slumped down at the front, leaning against the side of the boat and gazing out into the forest for any sign of Kurya. Screams of agony came from the forest, but the voice sounded deeper than Kurya's.

"Oh, my love. My sweet love." Harald whispered quietly over the sound of instructions being shouted. His hand cupped (Y/N)'s face, wiping away at the blood and tears. He gently pushed (Y/N)'s head onto his shoulder, feeling (Y/N) allow himself to go limp against him in exhaustion. Men slipped out of the treeline with Kurya. His wrists were tied and held apart. The men began taking turns slicing and stabbing into Kurya. The crew onboard watched in horror and cried until Leif got a single arrow and took a bow, aiming for Kurya. He released and hit Kurya directly in the heart, giving him a merciful and quick death. The men hollered and shouted in anger but made no move to retaliate against them, letting the boat continue freely down the river.

"We must tend to you." Harald breathed, looking for Mariam. She collected some bandages from the storage and approached them, squeezing the last bits of water out of them. Tearing part of his shirt, Harald lifted the back of (Y/N)'s shirt and gently dabbed at the cuts, murmuring apologies and words of comfort.

"Harald, you are hurt as well." (Y/N) reminded him, taking Harald's hand and slipping the cloth from his fingers. Eleana approached them, taking a sit beside (Y/N) and getting some cloth for herself.

"You tend to Harald and I'll tend to you." She proposed, continuing to clean the cuts. (Y/N) winced slightly and turned to Harald, focusing on the four wounds on his chest. Once the cuts were cleaned up, Eleana carefully wrapped them around (Y/N)'s waist and chest before pressing a fleeting kiss to his shoulder and standing up. Harald watched her return to her seat, grimacing when (Y/N) ran a finger over one of the wounds.

"You should have left when you had the chance. You wouldn't be hurt." Harald murmured. "It's my fault. You shouldn't have come back for me."

"You are the reason we came, Harald."

"You could have gone on without me... You could have gone home." Harald winced and inhaled deeply, one hand coming to rest on (Y/N) hip while the other took the hand (Y/N) used to clean his wounds.

Smiling tiredly, (Y/N) gazed into Harald's eyes. "I care about you a great deal. You are part of my home. You are part of my heart. I would never leave you for dead."

➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸

The passing days on the boat had allowed for Harald and (Y/N)'s wounds to slowly heal. The mood, however, remained somber. Kaysan had revealed not long after they escaped that they had found Cadlin's body after getting the boat upright. She'd likely been pinned under it and drowned. The news had devastated Dorn and Brigtoc, rendering them silent the following days. Mariam's condition had worsened as well. She coughed more often, her body trembled more noticeably, and she could hardly walk without help. The necklace she'd given Kurya had been meant for her to use on herself once the pain from her illness became unbearable. Still, she smiled and acted as if all were well. Leif tended to her frequently, keeping her warm with coats and comforting her. He hoped she'd be able to manage the last two remaining days left of their trip before they reached Constantinople.

They chose to stop at a beach nestled between two mountains. Further up the beach were stairs that led up onto the mountains where ruins stood. Stone pillars and floors. Mariam claimed it was the Pontic Olbia, a place that had once been sacred to the Greeks. (Y/N) found the ruins fascinating to look at while setting up camp. The stories Mariam told of Constantinople and the other places she had visited made them sound like tales his mother would tell him. Despite her death looming over them, Mariam told her stories with a smile and spoke of how she'd show them around Constantinople.

(Y/N) settled down as night fell and stories were exchanged over the fire. Batu told stories of his and Kaysan's adventures and close calls as con artists, most of which got a laugh out of everyone. (Y/N) found himself leaning against Harald, chuckling softly. Harald smiled, slipping his arm loosely around (Y/N)'s waist and nuzzling his nose against (Y/N)'s temple. The laughter slowly faded when they caught the pained look that appeared on Mariam's face. She smiled sadly, her eyes glittering with tears.

"I am sorry." She said faintly. "It is finally my time." She breathed. Her words brought a quietness to the air and for a moment, nobody moved or spoke. Batu inhaled deeply, gazing into the fire before standing up and walking forward toward her. He crouched down beside her and took her hand, sniffling softly.

"I miss you already." He whispered and she chuckled softly, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. When Batu stepped back, Brigtoc and Dorn moved closer, taking Mariam's hand and speaking softly to her. When it was Eleana's turn, Mariam leaned forward and sweetly cupped her face, smiling at her.

"You have a difficult road ahead."

"Help me, please." Eleana pleaded quietly, leaning into Mariam's touch.

"I cannot advise you. But your heart will." Mariam cooed, tucking strands of blonde hair behind Eleana's ear. Eleana pressed her forehead against Mariam's, wiping away her tears and leaning back. (Y/N) and Harald stood up, helping Mariam to her feet. She winced and wobbled slightly, holding tightly onto their arms.

"Thank you for everything, Mariam." (Y/N) said, smiling back at her.

"Remember what I told you, (Y/N)." Mariam touched his cheek, rubbing his skin with her thumb before looking at Harald. "Take care of these two for me. Please."

"Always," Harald assured and Leif scooped Mariam into his arms. She bid everyone one last goodbye and curled up in Leif's arms, resting her head against his shoulder as he walked into the forest to have one last private moment with his lover before her death. (Y/N) watched them disappear into the forest with a heaviness in his heart. Harald rubbed his back and offered a sad smile. "At least she spent her final moments surrounded by love."

"Yes..." (Y/N) let out a shakey sigh and sat back down, leaning back on the blankets on the ground and staring up at the stars in the night. Harald lied down beside him and looked up at the stars as well, his fingers finding (Y/N)'s and hooking around them. (Y/N) tilted his head to look at him, giving Harald's hand a gentle squeeze. Harald's lips twitched upward and he hummed softly, gazing back at the Greenlander.

"We always seem to find ourselves together like this... under the moonlight, don't we?" Releasing his hand, Harald reached over to touch his cheek and stroke it, a warm smile settling on his features. "I want to stay like this by your side... forever."

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marykk1990 · 2 months

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My next post in support of Ukraine is:

Next site, the city of Zhytomyr (Житомир), Zhytomyr Oblast. Per legend, the city was founded in 884 by a Slavic prince named Zhytomyr. It became an important Kyivan Rus city. The earliest written record of it is from 1240 when the city was sacked by Mongol ruler Batu Khan. Then, in 1320, it was conquered by the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. It passed to the Crown of the Polish Kingdom in 1569 before passing back to the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. It eventually ended up as part of the "russian" empire in 1793. During the Khmelnytsky Uprising in 1648 it was part of the Cossack Hetmanate state. During the short period of Ukrainian Independence from 1917-1920, Zhytomyr was the capital of the Ukrainian People's Republic for a few weeks in 1918. The city suffered during the Holodomor (1932-1933). It also suffered during Nazi occupation and was where Heinrich Himmler established his Ukraine headquarters. In addition to wanting to eliminate Jews, Himmler also wanted the Ukrainian population to be eliminated as much as possible. From 1942-1949, there was a Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), which fought against both the Nazis and the soviet union. After WWII, Zhytomyr was again conquered by the soviet union. Now, Zhytomyr is again under attack by muscovy, along with all of Ukraine.

#StandWithUkraine

#СлаваУкраїні 🇺🇦🌻

#Stand With Ukraine #Слава Україні 🇺🇦🌻

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irithnova · 3 months

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The good thing about that weirdo making a new account dedicated to just reblogging my previous post to tell me that I'm wrong is that I at least get to give further clarification as to my personal hcs towards the whole Mongolia and Russia met in the 13th century thing

Karakorum = Mongolia Empire Capital before it got moved to China during the Yuan

Sarai = Golden Horde capital

TL;DR at the end for those who want it

>Just because Russian princes visited Karakorum it doesn't necessarily mean that Russia accompanied them

>There were indeed princes who were sent to visit so I'm not denying that (for example, Batu sending Alexander and Andrey Nevsky after their father Yaroslav died)

>Mongolia and Golden Horde had a distant relationship both figuratively and literally, so building some sort of personal relationship with Golden Horde's subjects in Eastern Europe was of little relevance to Mongolia.

>It wasn't just Karakorum princes would visit, but also Sarai. These princes being sent to Karakorum was essentially just to ratify decisions that were made at Sarai previously.

>I do believe that Russia would have gone to Sarai when the initial decisions took place, but did not go to Karakorum to witness the ratification.

>To say that Russia must have accompanied these princes to Karakorum I think is an oversimplification of the political landscape of the time (like not acknowledging why they had to visit in the first place) I'll elaborate on this later but it's to do with the divide within the Mongol Empire and the strained relationship between Sarai and Karakorum and how things were ratified before the breaking up of the Empire

> There were some princes picked to go to Karakorum by the Khan himself, like when Batu Khan (of the Golden Horde) sent Alexander and Andrey Nevsky to Karakorum to visit Guyuk when he was made Great Khan of the Mongol Empire (albeit a bit reluctantly as he didn't agree with Guyuk's ascension). This was before the 1260s, when the Mongol Empire broke up, so administrative orders were still directly given by Karakorum "Initially, the Mongols ruled their territories in Russia directly from the center of the empire that was being built at Khara Khorum, with only a limited local presence of Mongol administrators, census takers, and military contingents." (Daniel Waugh, the Golden Horde and Russia).

>After the mid 1260s, all visits from Russian princes to Karakorum stopped and instead they deferred to the Golden Horde capital of Sarai or to the Golden Horde's Khan's summer camp in the Caucasus.

> I don't think Russia would have personally joined in these expeditions to Karakorum. I honestly see these as political/business endeavours the princes would go on individually to get their jarlyks and then obviously return from and take their positions accordingly "Russian princes had to travel to Mongolia to receive their patents of office (jarlyks)". (Daniel Waugh, The Golden Horde and Russia)

>Yarliks/Jarlyks were "written diplomas, which had long been used across the Empire to make formal announcements." (Marie Favereau, The Horde.)

>I'll give further context on this "Russian princes were sent to Karakorum." As touched on previously, they were sent to ratify decisions already made at the court of Sarai

>Yes, the likes of Alexander and Andrey Nevsky were sent to Karakorum. However before them was their father, Yaroslav. Yaroslav was initially summoned to Sarai for him to pledge an oath of vassalage to Batu, and Batu in turn was to put him in charge of all Russian princes

>However during this time (before the 1260s), every decision made by Sarai still had to be confirmed/ratified by Karakorum, so Yaroslav was sent to Karakorum to confirm this decision, but died in Mongolia, so he could never return and assume his post. Hence why his two sons were then sent afterwards, things didn't exactly go according to plan.

>This only further supports my point that these visits by Princes were individually embarked on mainly for the appointment/ratification of certain positions that were already made at Sarai. I don't see why Russia would need to attend the ratification process in Karakorum if he already witnessed the decision being made at Sarai. He has already acknowledged his place within the Empire by doing that and it's not as if he himself was being ratified as the Prince of anything, nor would he have a say in the process, so I see these visits from princes as them travelling themselves to be confirmed after the decision at Sarai and then obviously returning.

>On the political divide I mentioned earlier: The political divide between Sarai and Karakorum was also very apparent, which meant that Russian princes found it difficult to get support from both Sarai and Karakorum. In fact, "John of Plano Carpini reported on the poisoning there in 1246 of Prince Iaroslav of Vladimir, the senior principality of northeastern Russia." (Daniel Waugh, the Golden Horde and Russia). It is said that he was poisoned directly because of Mongol political infighting between Sarai and Karakorum.

>This links to my last point but Russian princes relationship with Karakorum and Sarai weren't uniform (because of the aforementioned divide), Alexander Nevsky won the favour of Sarai however his younger brother Andrey held a favoured position in Karakorum.

>Due to this divide I really don't think Golden Horde would have actually allowed Russia to travel to Karakorum, even if he wanted to join. If he couldn't stop Russia's princes from going over to his father whom he has a strained relationship with because of the ratification process, he was definitely going to stop Russia himself as a means of asserting authority over him.

>In addition considering this divide, it was probably in Russia's best interest to stay behind anyways

>In fact Sarai didn't always agree with Karakorum's decision in appointing prince's positions, Andrey Nevsky was initially chosen over Alexander as Grand Prince of Vladimir and thus displeased Sarai as they favoured Alexander.

>When the Mongol Empire broke up in the 1260s though and princes were expected to go to Sarai or the summer camp in the Caucasus instead, yeah I can actually see Russia joining this time because a) They were much closer b) Golden Horde was no longer a sort of "middle man" between his subjects and the overbearing Karakorum, and now that his annoying father was out of the way, he was now the ultimate authority. So he'd expect Russia to join just as he always did.

So. TL;DR

Russia attended the initial meeting at Sarai but not the ratification process at Karakorum as I believe that was a task the princes individually had to embark on + strained relationship with Karakorum and Sarai meant that it was probably best if Russia stayed, and also because of this Golden Horde would have wanted Russia to stay to keep a Hawks eye on him + Mongolia had no interest in personally meeting Russia anyways

I'm not saying anyone who HCs they met during this era is WRONG!!1 but I personally don't see it

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morgana-ren · 7 months

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Absolutely would love more detail on Ilya!

Well, for starters, his name isn't even Ilya-- It's Altaan. He just fucking despises that name and will flay you for using it. Ilya is his middle name and he vastly prefers it if you’re not using honorifics.

He’s the son of a powerful warleader and his stolen concubine, and the eighth born prince to his father’s conquered empire. He is the only one of his father’s sons that wasn’t born to one of his wives and therefore the only one that wasn’t trueborn, and that made him the outcast, and being outcast essentially defined him. However, his dad ran more of a meritocracy, so he had just as much chance as his brothers and generals to prove himself.

And prove himself he did.

Forged in fire and bitterness and hate, Ilya became an extremely competent military commander and master of all manner of weaponry despite an extremely slow and gentle start. City after city he took, showing no mercy after giving the people one single chance to surrender before his arrival to ‘save him time.’ Underhanded and cruel, regions fell before him– some without him even having to step foot in them.

Decadent and ostentatious, Ilya doesn’t quite look the part of strategic military genius. Indulgent silk robes and flashy jewelry and a very clean, kempt appearance you’d expect more from a stuffy noble. He wears his sleek, dark hair very long, opting to have servants braid it and tuck it beneath a trademark hat rather than cut it or wear it in a more practical manner. He prefers vivid, flashy colors and ‘armor’ for him is specially forged metal plating that goes over his opulent robes. His entire strategy is ‘don’t get hit and you don’t need armor.’

That really embodies his entire gimmick.

He’s a risk-taker. Huge gambles with huge payoffs that he rigs in his favor. He is underhanded and ruthless and will utilize whatever means necessary to win. He can best you on and off the battlefield, and he will fight dirty. If that means threatening your wife or having his way with her, so be it. He knows the strings that the heart tugs and he can play them like a harp. He’s remarkably intelligent and resourceful and manipulative, and he’s damn charismatic, especially to people who only see skin-deep. Educated and exceptionally sharp as well. His mind is a better weapon than his spear, and he will slit your throat with both.

Ilya is beautiful and he is well aware of that fact. Features almost feline in nature, with dark almond eyes and an ever-present sly smile. Olive-toned skin and a condescending air about him. He appears very regal and arrogant, and you’d be correct in that assumption. Long, lanky limbs and a willowy frame that finally grew into elegance. It’s that very beauty that hides the rot and cruelty of what he has become. He’s a master at being whatever you need him to be to get what he needs from you, whether it’s gentle and soft or forlorn and lonely. He can channel any part of himself at all and that mask will never crack.

The best physical representation of Ilya I can think of is actually Batu Khan from Phobs looks almost uncannily like him, which funny enough, I found trying to write him. I would put a picture here but I’m not sure they want their work attached to this kind of writing. I’ll put a link to the pintrest if anyone is interested in getting a feel for him.

He is debauched and every part a man who fed the abyss inside of him with hedonism. Wine, women, and blood. His honor-less behavior embarrased and disgusted his father and eventually Ilya’s disgraceful behavior had a final straw at his brother’s funeral. His father and Ilya became estranged, and Ilya took on his own banner, leaving the previously conquered territories as a final insult.

At the height of his power, however, Ilya died. Disappeared, and only his closest men know what happened. It broke his father’s heart.

Thing about men like Ilya is that they don’t die easily. And he didn’t.

Ilya went to hell. Ilya was useful to Hell’s current regime and they offered him a deal and he took it. And it was there he stayed for hundreds of years until Nightmare came back.

Ilya now serves under Nightmare, having been the catalyst and turning point for his rebellion to overthrow the archduke, treacherous little bastard that he is. He is also now one of Nightmare’s closest friends. Having been robbed of his autonomy and pleasure for hundreds of years, Ilya had plenty of time to come to understand exactly what he thinks is important– and spoiler, it’s still wine and women and blood. He has learned nothing.

He is still the same conniving, weaselly little bastard he was when he died, but worse. Years in Hell working under some bastard will do that to you. Now he is part devil, and he revels in it. History never found out what happened to the prince Altaan Ilya Boldbaatar, but he’s happy to remind them. He has a place on the surface where he dwells in opulence, searching and searching for something to scratch the itch inside of him– or inside of someone else.

Ilya doesn’t want the crown and he doesn’t want a throne; He never did. He craved love once but he’d tell you that part of him is gone. What he wants is pleasure, and power untold to do whatever and wherever his whims desire. What is life if you don’t enjoy it? Whether it’s at the bottom of a bottle of vodka or deep inside a sweet girl, wherever you find your pleasure, take it.

Ilya embodies your worst desires, and your desire to rationalize them. He is intelligence and power without conscience. Selfishness and horror wrapped in a brightly colored, lovely gossamer blanket. He’s the voice in your ear that tells you it’s okay and then encourages you to go further. He is the pitiful voice that tells you that you deserve this, consequences be damned. He is the beauty that masks utter horror.

Ilya has the worst qualities of the three as that’s how he was born. He is educated and intelligent, but arrogant and snide, and decadent and self-serving unless he likes you. Condescending and cruel and intentionally taunting. He plays with emotions the way some play a fiddle. He will toy with you like a cat would an injured mouse. Capable of atrocities with a smile on his face.

Ilya will catch you at a museum and play the part of the shy, clumsy man who can’t meet your eye but knows so much and you like him for some reason. You will trust him, even as something tells you that you shouldn’t. You will ignore the nails that are too long, the teeth that are too sharp, the voice that is too smooth– too calculated to truly be helpless. By the time you see the horns blossom through his hair, it’s far too late. It was always too late.

And that’s the cheesiest shit I’ve ever written, and I’ve written the cheesiest shit known to man.

He has a very elaborate backstory and all that, but I started typing that out again and went 'who cares' so I gave you the quick version-- and the quick version is still ALL that.

Here's the pintrest if you like him. I'm always happy to talk about him or develop him, truthfully. I don't really create OCs that matter; I only have three and he's one of them. Fucking around with OCs when you're an author for preestablished characters is an exercise in foolishness most of the time, but you know he loves the attention.

#morgana and friends #Prince Ilya #My ocs #He sure is a guy.

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