Concept:
Post-tadpole, Tav offers to help Astarion find a way to walk in the sun again, and she starts by going to different libraries and repositories and archives around the city to look for books that might be relevant. Astarion, obviously, has to stay in the rental room with the shutters closed during the daytime, so he can't come with her.
At some point, this takes her up to the posh part of the city, where the fancy ✨ scholarly ✨ archive is. She remembers most of the walk - it's not too far from the graveyard Astarion took her to, in the neighbourhood where he once used to live.
And like, it's never actually occurred to her that he could still have Actual Blood Relatives still living? It's not a topic she's ever thought to raise with him. But she has to sign in and out of the archive, and she just happens to notice the name three or four lines above hers: an initial and a surname she recognises.
Ancunín.
The same name from Astarion's gravestone.
A parent? A sibling?
A niece or nephew Astarion has never even met?
Thus begins a secondary quest of trying to reunite a broken family. Astarion is willing enough to talk about the few memories he still has of the thirty-nine years he had with his family before turning - a drop in the ocean compared to the 200 years spent suffering under Cazador - but he shuts down when she nudges him towards the likelihood that Mr & Mrs Ancunín are still alive. He retreats back behind the selfish, catty survivalist he was when she first met him and claims he has no interest in ever reconnecting. The pain in every clipped syllable says drop it, so she does.
But then he asks her, very quietly, several days later, what the initial was. He doesn't really react when she tells him - there's no obvious recognition, and he doesn't ask any follow-up questions or try to discuss it further. He just goes back to his book. She watches him out of the corner of her eye though, as she skim-reads her own giant tome of magical artifacts. A very long time goes by before she sees him turn a page.
For a good long while, the family issue gets put firmly on the back burner. They have other shit going on. Sometimes, it's following promising leads on a possible workaround for Astarion's sunlight allergy. Other times, it's the kind of ugly, ragged-edged breakdown that so often follows a period of relative safety and stability after a major trauma. He's been running in survival mode for two centuries, and now he's finally starting to feel secure enough for the rest of his mind to come back online, and all the trauma he couldn't handle at the time, all the pain and fear and tangled emotions survival mode was protecting him from, is catching up to him. During those sporadic episodes, trying to keep him from falling apart is her top priority and, well, time gets away from them and by the time he brings up his parents again, months or more have gone by, and they have a fairly good idea of what artifact of daywalking they need to find.
By the time it comes to actually meeting with them, still more months have passed, and they have already found it.
It's horrible, and heartwarming, and heartbreaking, and healing, and hurting, and so many other conflicting things that for a while - a long while - Tav doesn't know whether she actually did the right thing encouraging him to reach out to long-lost loved ones. It's a mess of moments that makes her heart ache for a dozen reasons. She finds out that Astarion looks most like his mother, but has his father's nose. She holds him for hours while he shakes and sobs into her shoulder because they never even left the city, they were here the whole time, and they never found him - and he's so angry and full of grief he doesn't know what to do with himself. She accompanies him to the home he was raised in, and the once-familiar surroundings jog memories he thought lost for good - he's glassy-eyed, recounting them to her, but she's fairly sure it's the good kind of glassy-eyed, so she doesn't mention it. She tries to make conversation at family dinner while he stares at his hands in his lap, dissociated, looking even more uncomfortable than she feels, utterly lost in a world that once fit him like a glove. There are a lot of feelings to try and mediate. They are all hurt, all damaged, all afraid, all looking for the ghost of a loved one in the face of a stranger.
But, eventually, there is a day where she overhears Astarion having a conversation with his father, and he sounds like himself - not the persona he puts on in public - and his father laughs at something he says in a way that's entertained rather than awkward. There is a day where his mother reaches out and he doesn't shake his head or step away - he lets her hug him goodbye. They have not slipped back into the graves they crawled out of in each other's lives - they are all very different people now - but they are learning new ways to fit together, and he seems to be pleased about it.
So she thinks, yeah, it was worth it.
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I headcannon that after 3rd Kinslaying, and especially after Elrond and Elros left them in whatever fashion, Maedhros was a total dick to Maglor.
You know how sometimes old or sick people are nice to neighbours/nurses/strangers, but are horrible to their primal caretakers? That's them.
People aren't dicks to their caretakers just to be dicks - it's because they are often frustrated with themselves or their situation and don't know how else to deal with it or they can't deal with it the usual way. It also happens because, paradoxally, they feel safe around their caretakers - you can be a dick because you know they won't leave just because of that.
And boy, did Maglor cast himself in a role of caretaker (let's not kid ourselves, he wasn't qualified, and with his own problems to boot), and BOY, did Maedhros resent him for it. He did not NEED help, he did not DESERVE help, he's not another kidnapped child MAGLOR, I'M the older brother, I should take care of YOU YOU WRECK, WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO BABYSIT YOU GROW UP ALREADY and leave me Nothing is EVER your fault, even when you left me to Angband as you should Why would you care now, it amounted to NOTHING before, it's WORTHLESS
And about half the time Maglor just takes it, actually likes it even. Mostly because of his guilt complex about how he deserves it, but also because Maedhros is only like this with him - he's trying his best to pretend to be fine and be a leader to few followers they have left, because they deserve better and that's the only thing he can give them now, and their brothers are all dead and would always be Too Little to act like that around them anyway. Maedhros would behave himself even around Fingon, to make him think rescuing him was worth something. So by being a dick to Maglor, Meadhros sees him as an equal, a safe haven. Maglor basks in that.
But obviously no one could just take such abuse like it's nothing, and Maglor is a Feanorian too, is prideful and stubborn, with his own laundry list of complains about Maedhros, and also unwell, and also thought of a new insult while lying awake at night and just wants to yell too. So half the time Maglor yells back and their yelling matches would bring orcs to tears, with hate and blame dripping from every word. I don't have enough imagination to picture it realistically, and actually I don't want to, it's too heartbreaking.
And sometimes, one or the other just starts crying. They don't talk about these times.
After some time, their arguments and insults are just a noise, something to repeat endlessly to the point of boredom.
By then, what actually hurts are the words that were not meant to harm.
Example 1:
Maedhros: 'did an all-night inspection of their stores cause he couldn't sleep' I found a herb you always liked to wash your hair with.
Maglor: 'doesn't remember last time he washed his hair, no less scented them'
Maglor: 'choked up' Appreciated.
Example 2:
Maedhros: 'feels like he's dragging Maglor to damnation with him' You could go with the twins, you know.
Maglor: 'doesn't want to upset Maedhros today so decides to pretend as if that was actually an option' Vanyar would probably like my singing but you know they would get mad at you for having better battle plans than them.
Maedhros: 'now KNOWS he's dragging Maglor to damnation with him'
Maedhros: 'dying inside' Of course they would.
When love hurts, it's easier to be a dick.
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John and Dutch's relationship has me sobbing on a good day and having a full on mental breakdown on a bad one. If Arthur is like Hosea, then John is like Dutch; authority issues, conflicting emotions, false bravado, and all. If John seeing Dutch in rdr2, "broke his heart," I don't even wanna imagine what he was going through during and after THAT scene in the first game. It's clear, and literally stated by John himself, how much he loves Dutch, and how conflicted his feelings are toward him. The thought of John finding out that Dutch, the only father figure he has left alive, the man who saved him from hanging and gave him a family at the age of 12, was gonna leave him die in prison, and then later on the train...it...I'm so normal about this; it's fine.
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This is a story about a book that changed my life.
It's also about how amazing libraries and authors and people who care about sharing cool things with curious kids are. Also, fish (especially fish). It's kind of different than what I usually post but it's been bouncing around in my head basically since I started this blog so here you go, I hope you like it. This is the reason I love coelacanths so much, and why I think everyone should know about how amazing they are.
When I was little, I loved going to the library. My little brother and I would pick out way too many books and the librarians always had to come over to override the 30 book limit at the checkout stand (they pretty much knew us on sight and were ready to override it as soon as we started heading over to check out). After we finished getting our library books, our mom also let us look through the free pile that was in the foyer on the way out. It was mostly old library books that the librarians just needed to clean out, but there were a lot of books that people brought when they cleaned out their personal collections too (especially teachers, and there were a bunch of books with old school library stamps inside). The free pile didn't usually have a lot of things that interested me, but one day when I was poking through it I found a book called Fossil Fish Found Alive: Discovering the Coelacanth, by Sally M. Walker.
I loved it. I had never even heard of coelacanths before, but this book fascinated me. It told the story of an incredible animal, long thought to be extinct, that had somehow survived for millions of years! It was nothing like any fish I had ever learned about before. I already had a casual interest in marine biology that I can thank PBS Kids and Wild Kratts for (particularly their episode on sperm whales and giant squid, I loved that episode), but this book took it to a new level. I wanted to be a marine biologist so I could learn more about coelacanths.
Like a lot of things when you're 7, that was a phase. Unlike a lot of phases, this one I came back to. After taking a break from my dreams of being a marine biologist to experience the hell that is middle school, one day I pulled a book off my shelf. I hadn't read it in a while. When I picked it up again, I remembered how incredible this animal was, and how much it had inspired me when I was younger, and those thoughts of becoming a marine biologist started to return. I'm in college now studying marine science, and I brought the book with me to school, where it sits next to two other science books that have inspired me (My Friends the Wild Chimpanzees by Jane Goodall and The Sea Around Us by Rachel Carson).
Earlier this year, I was thinking about how much this one book had changed my life and I wondered if I could find Ms. Walker and thank her. I knew she had many other science books for younger audiences, and even another book about coelacanths, so I was sure she had a website of some kind, and I was right. So I found her contact page and wrote her an email explaining the impact her book had had on my life, and thanking her for it. And to my surprise, she responded! She was very kind and we sent a few emails back and forth. She gave me some excellent advice and even told me about some of the people she contacted while researching her book, including Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer herself, the person who rediscovered the coelacanth when it was thought to be extinct! I'll never forget how she took the time to respond to me and how encouraging she was.
But Ms. Walker isn't the only one I have to thank for pointing me toward the path I'm on right now. If I hadn't already loved reading, if I hadn't seen any show or video to make me interested in marine biology, if the library didn't have a pile of books for anyone to take home, if I had lost that book during one of our many moves as a kid, I don't know what I'd be doing right now. There were a lot of things that happened to make it so that I found this book, but I'm glad for every single one of them. They led to me learning about an incredible animal and changed the course of my life. And now, I love coelacanths.
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