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qqueenofhades · 9 months

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Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)

First, /screams

Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.

Third, /screams more

Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.

Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.

The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.

Uh. Well.

As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.

God bless.

Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.

As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.

Ouch.

And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.

Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.

Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...

Gets. Shot. Down.

Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.

I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.

(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)

I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.

I repeat: Ouch.

Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --

/screams

Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?

And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?

... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.

Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --

Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.

The thing is:

Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.

So he's going to have to come back Down.

He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.

Now if you will excuse me, /screams

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #look this probably could have been twice as long #but i had to stop somewhere #I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS

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aspoonofsugar · 3 months

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Have yo read Captive Prince? What do you think of Laurent's character? Does he foil any other characters (besides being mind to Damen's heart)?

Hi!

Yes, I have and I love Laurent <3 He has the most complex arc and is at the centre of the major conflict, so he foils several characters, who are used to explore his personality and to progress his arc.

In general, I would say three major jungian archetypes are used in Laurent's story:

Inner Child = the childish and most vulnerable part of a person, which is influenced by one's younger years. Laurent's inner child is embodied primarily by Nicaise, but also by every boy abused and raped by the Regent.

Shadow = the repressed part, which the person doesn't want to aknowledge. Laurent has severals: the Regent himself, Aimeric and Jokaste. They all embody Laurent's most negative side.

Anima/Animus = the anima is the female side of a man and the animus is the male side of a woman. It is usually used in romantic subplots to show two characters growing closer. Here, it is embodied by the bond between Laurent and Damen.

Laurent's arc is one where he integrates with Damen, but to succeed he also needs to save his inner child and to face his shadow. Or to fail and try again.

BROTHERS AND LOVERS

Laurent and Damen foil each others' brothers:

Laurent foils Kastor: both are the unfavourite child, but Laurent adores Auguste, while Kastor resents Damen. At the same time, Damen perceives them in opposite ways. Damen initially doesn't aknowledge the good in Laurent, while he doesn't see the evil in Kastor. It is as Nikandros says. At the beginning of the story, Damen sees things in black and white. By getting to know Laurent he learns complexity and that the world is in shades of grey. He integrates his own heart with Laurent's mind. His own idealism with Laurent's wisdom.

Damen foils Auguste: both are strong fighters and beloved leaders, able to inspire others. The moment Auguste dies, Laurent loses his heart and it is only with Damen that he learns to trust and to open up again. It is also through Damen that he overcomes Auguste's death and his sense of inferiority, which is carefully nurtured by the Regent. Laurent is brilliant, but his arc is about showing vulnerability and find new faith in others. He integrates his mind with Damen's heart. His wisdom with Damen's idealism.

So, as you said, Laurent is the mind to Damen's heart and has to rediscover his own interiority. He needs to love himself again. Only by doing so he can truly escape the Regent and grow up. This process of growth is the main focus of the trilogy and it happens twice:

Laurent fails to grow in the second book

Laurent succeeds and completes his growth in the third book

Let's see how.

NICAISE AND AIMERIC = LAURENT'S DARKEST HOUR

Laurent's darkest hour happens at the end of the second book. This is common for a trilogy. It is not rare for the second installement to end in a negative way. Now, The Prince's Gambit doesn't end badly. Laurent and Damen win and grow closer. Laurent even frees Damen and they have sex for the first time. Still, psychologically, Laurent risks a huge brakdown because of Nicaise and Aimeric's deaths.

Nicaise and Aimeric are two parts of Laurent:

-Nicaise is Laurent's child-self. He is petty and capricious, but he cares deeply. And yet, he can't show any vulnerability. The moment he does, he is killed. Moreover, Nicaise plaids for Laurent because he deep down thinks the Regent won't kill him. This is true for Laurent, as well:

"I didn't think he's really try to kill me" Laurent said "After everything... even after everything".

-Aimeric is Laurent's shadow. He is a young man, whose life is defined by the Regent's sexual abuse. Aimeric confuses the Regent's imitation of love with true care and fights to get it back, even if it means hurting people, who truly love him. Unconsciously, this is true for Laurent too:

"You play his games like you want to show him you can. Like you're trying to impress him. Is that it? You need to beat him at his own game? You want him to see you do it? At the expense of your positions and the lives of your men? Are you that desperate for his attention? Well, you have it. Congratulations. You must have loved it that he was obsessed enough with you that he killed his own boy to get at you. You win."

Damen's speech to Laurent is basically the same one Laurent gives Aimeric. Aimeric shines light on this specific aspect of Laurent. Laurent too still loves his uncle. He too wants his attention and on some level thinks of his uncle as his only family:

"When you lost your brother, was there someone to confort you?" "Yes," said Laurent. "In a way".

So, Nicaise and Aimeric embody Laurent's vulnerability. Nicaise is the child who still feels safe with the Regent. Aimeric is the young adult, who wants the Regent back. Both are Laurent. This is why Laurent wants to rescue them both. He grows close to Nicaise and tells him he will buy his contract and free him. He accepts Aimeric into his guard and refuses Damen's advice to send him away. And yet, the Regent uses them both against Laurent. He kills Nicaise and has Aimeric betray Laurent.

Laurent wants to help both Nicaise and Aimeric and the Regent tells him he can't. Just like he can't save himself.

According to the Regent's narrative:

Laurent is fond of Nicaise, but eventually leaves him alone out of selfishness

Laurent welcomes Aimeric in, but this is a blind spot that is used against him

By using vulnerable and abused kids, the Regent conveys to Laurent two messages. On the one hand Laurent isn't selfless enough to truly save anyone. He isn't good enough to be a protector like Auguste. On the other hand he is still foolish enough to trust others. He isn't smart enough to be a mastermind like the Regent. Too cruel and too foolish is how the Regent wants Laurent to see himself. So, that Laurent would feel trapped and cut others out.

And Laurent almost gives in, but is stopped by Damen:

"You tried to hurt me, and you have. I wish you would see that what you have just done to me is what your uncle is doing to you."

Damen goes through to Laurent and stops him from losing himself. He saves him from turning into a copy of the Regent.

THE REGENT

The Regent is Laurent's negative foil. He is who Laurent could become if he gave in to his worst instincts. As a matter of fact Laurent shares many similarities with his uncle:

Both are very intelligent master manipulators

Both are able to seize people's weaknesses and to use them

Both can be cruel and ruthless

Both tend to complicate things

This isn't by chance because the Regent does his best to break Laurent's heart and to warp his mind into a frailer copy of his own. He needs Laurent to think like him and to follow his rules, so that he can beat his nephew. This is why the Regent spends the years after Marlas by abusing Laurent in different ways.

The Regent's abuse has a double nature:

It has a sexual component: the Regent rapes Laurent multiple times as a child and shows possessiveness of him as a young adult. For example, many of his assassin attempts come with a sexual element. The assassins instructed to rape Laurent by using a drogue the Regent clearly used on his nephew as a child. Having Laurent and Damen sleep together, so that Laurent would eventually kill himself. Twisting Laurent and Damen's love story, as if to frame Laurent as dirty and despicable. Spreading voices about Laurent's supposed romantic feelings for Auguste. And so on...

It has an emotional component: the Regent keeps mentioning Auguste, which hurts Laurent in two ways. On the one hand it doesn't let him move on from his brother's death. On the other hand it drills into Laurent he isn't as good as the previous prince

"I hate to see you grown up like this," said the Regent, "when you were such a lovely boy."

The Regent basically blames Laurent for both growing up (physically) and not growing up (psychologically). He manipulates him by treating him as a child, while implying he isn't pure as a child anymore. The result is that Laurent hates himself.

This self-hate manifests itself in recklessness, suicidal tendencies and self-destroying behaviors. Like Laurent lashing out at others, when he is actually furious at himself. This is why specifically Laurent breaks Aimeric by using their shared trauma as a weapon. He hurts both Aimeric and Jord (who hasn't done anything, but being loyal to Laurent) because to truly face Aimeric means to accept himself and he can't.

Symbolically, Laurent kills Aimeric like he is slowly killing himself. This is why Aimeric's death happens after the reveal of Nicaise's murder by the Regent. Laurent kills Aimeric, just like the Regent kills Nicaise. Both victims are abused kids with frail and unstable senses of self, who deep down seek love and vulnerability. The lesson Laurent needs to learn is that he can't save the Nicaise within himself, if he doesn't help the Aimeric too. This is why it is important that Laurent is able to express empathy for Aimeric and to recognize he is a wounded person, just like Nicaise:

"Nicaise knew that when he got too old, he would be replaced." "Like Aimeric," said Damen. Into the long silence that stretched out between them, Laurent said: "Like Aimeric."

It is the first step to aknowledge his own hurt too.

AUGUSTE WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH

The second step is instead to face Auguste's ghost. Laurent's big brother is a double edged sword for the Prince. On the one hand Laurent deeply loves Auguste and is devastated by his dead. On the other hand his idealization of Auguste is unhealthy and leads to Laurent undervaluing himself.

These powerful contradictive feelings come to the surface in his "sparring" match with Damen. There, Laurent for once is able to show all his anger and grief. He lets it all out and is forced to accept he would have never been able to kill Damen in a fight. Still, another realization comes to the surface:

"I know," said Laurent, "that I was never good enough." Damen said, "Neither was your brother." "You're wrong. He was -" "What?" "Better than I am. He would have -" Laurent cut himself off. He pressed his eyes closed, with a breath of something like laughter. "Stopped you." He said it as though he could hear the ludicrousness of it.

Damen's words might seem cruel, but they are actually necessary because they break Laurent's internalised idolisation of Auguste. Laurent has been brought up with the convinction that Auguste is somehow better than him. This idea is present even before Auguste's death because of their father's favouritism. The early loss of his brother and subsequent abuse only makes this feeling stronger. Hence why Damen refusing this helps Laurent grow. Damen is the first one to see Laurent as his own person and to give him a choice:

Damen picked up the discarded knife, and when Laurent's eyes opened, he put it in Laurent's hand. Braced it. Drew it to his own abdomen, so that they stood in a familiar posture. Laurent's back was to the post. "Stop me," said Damen.

Laurent chooses to give up on his revenge. He chooses his present relationship with Damen over Auguste's ghost. He starts wishing for something positive for himself. He starts caring for himself. He starts looking toward a possible future.

JOKASTE = OPENING THE DOOR

To reach this future Laurent has to face Jokaste, who is really another version of Laurent:

"You're lucky we're alike," Jokaste said, stepping down. She and Laurent looked at one another like two reptiles.

Not only that, though, she is Aimeric and Nicaise combined in a single character:

Like Aimeric, she betrays a lover for selfish reasons (apparently)

Like Nicaise, she is caught up in a power struggle and has to choose the side, which ensures her survival, even if it means negate her heart to do so

"You mean, the only difference between us is that I chose the wrong brother?" As the stars began to drift across the sky, Laurent thought of Nicaise, standing in the courtyard with a handful of sapphires. "I don't think you chose," said Laurent.

This time Laurent is able to see this. He empathizes with Jokaste and gives her freedom. He opens her the door:

"We're alike. You said that. Would you have opened the door for me? I don't know. But you opened one for him."

In this way Laurent understands the Aimeric he could not understand and saves the Nicaise he could not save. By the end, Aimeric (Jokaste) is shown mercy and Nicaise (her baby) survives. Laurent gives Jokaste and her family a future. And in this way, he symbolically gives himself a future and a family. He opens his own door.

THE TRIAL

The climax of the trilogy is Laurent's trial in Ios. This choice is interesting on multiple levels:

It is an inversion of the ending of book 1, where Damen is blamed for the assassination attempt on Laurent's life and Laurent protects him. In fatc, it is not by chance that Damen mentions the episode in his initial defense of Laurent.

It shows Damen and Laurent's integration. As a matter of fact Damen is the one who realizes Paschal has the key to dethrone the Regent. He is able to do so because through Laurent he has learnt to observe others, to understand them and to empathize with them. Laurent instead selflessly gives everything up for the person he loves and bravely faces off the Regent with no plan, but simply with his heart. The Regent tries to turn it into a weakness and to force Laurent to give it up, but fails. Finally, he and not Damen is the one who fights Kastor and kills him. He uses the skills he has learnt for his revenge and uses them to protect Damen, instead. He chooses life and love over death and hate.

Most importanlty, though, the trial starts as a farce, but by the end it becomes a fair administration of justice, which punishes the criminal and recognizes the innocent. Let's see how this change happens.

NICAISE = VICTORY

Laurent wins not because of his mind, but because of his heart. Specifically, he wins because of the relationships he builds and of his ability to empathize with the humblest people, those nobody cares about.

First of all, Laurent obviously wins thanks to Damen. It is Damen choosing him over his kingdom that makes it possible to the tides to turn. So, it is because Laurent overcome his internalized hate for Damianos and slowly comes to accept and love him, that he is saved in the end. In a sense, the night where he has to choose if to let Damen die or to save him out of loyalty in volume 1 is when Laurent chooses who he wants to be. He can let a man he hates die without risking anything, like the Regent would. Or he can save that man our of a sense of fairness, like Auguste would. Laurent chooses the latter and makes the first true move towards his victory.

Secondly, Laurent is able to touch the councilors' sense of morality thanks to Loyse, Aimeric's mother. She reveals that her husband basically sold Aimeric to the Regent in exchange of power. She also explains how the Regent conspired with Kastor to kill Theodemes. This testimony isn't decisive because the assassination of Theodemes is a matter of Akielos. Nonetheless, Loyse re-opens the trial and gives importance to Aimeric's story and pain. It is also important that she is a woman because the Regent hates women. She is the character nobody considers, as everyone is focused on Guion's, the powerful councilor. And yet, Laurent does and convinces her to break free from her husband influence for the sake of her son.

Thirdly, Laurent is saved by Paschal's testimony. That said, Paschal is only able to reveal the truth about the Regent's murder of the King only because of Nicaise. In general, Nicaise is a character, who ends up being important in the finales of all three books:

In book one, Nicaise goes to Laurent's apartments after the attempted murder. He is clearly worried and can't decide if to openly switch sides and tell Laurent the truth or not. He also appears to tell Laurent goodbye and to give him his earrings. Symbolically, Laurent is saying goodbye to his younger and most innocent self, as he prepares to enter war with his uncle.

In book two, Nicaise's death is revealed in the climax and it leads to Laurent's decision to march on Charcy. It also kickstarts Laurent's deepest psychological crisis, as he struggles to keep a clean mind and shows how deep he is hurt and desperate.

In book three, Nicaise is the one who indirectly hands Laurent victory, as it is him who stole Govart's papers and gave him to Paschal.

In other words, Nicaise is the one who leads to victory, which fits his name. As a matter of fact Nicaise means "victorious", the person who brings victory and he delivers.

Thematically, this is very important, as Laurent initially regrets to have grown close to Nicaise:

"I killed Nicaise when I left it half done. I should have either stayed away from him, or broken his faith in my uncle. I didn't plan it out, I left it to chance. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't thinking about him like that. I just... I liked him."

He believes that because of their sibling-like bond Nicaise is now dead. He believes his influence isn't enough to break the Regent's control over Nicaise. And yet, it is precisely because of Laurent's love and care for Nicaise that the boy is able to rebel himself enough to steal key documents and to hand them to Laurent's side. Nicaise dies tragically, but his life and Laurent's kindness to him are not in vain. They change the destiny of two kingdoms. Laurent isn't able to save his child-self, but his child-self is strong enough to save him. Just like Laurent might not cancel what happened to him in the past, but can still move forward:

"Stop it, you're hurting him. You're hurting him. Let him go." A soldier was holding him back, and the boy was fighting him. Laurent looked at the boy, and in his eyes was the knowledge that some things couldn't be fixed. He said, "Get that boy out of here."

The new Regent pet once again mirrors a part of Laurent. The side of him that still sees the Regent at family. And yet, Laurent is finally able to accept this part of himself, but is strong enough to start healing. Just like as King he has now the chance to help as many children as the Regent hurt. Laurent ends is arc by growing up. He isn't a child anymore:

"You think you can defy me?" the Regent said to Laurent. "You think you can rule Vere? You?" Laurent said, "I'm not a boy anymore."

He isn't a boy anymore, he can't be controlled by the Regent anymore. He can now start a new life as his own person, free from the Regent and from Auguste's ghost. A life of love and new relationships.

#the captive prince #captive prince #laurent #damen #damianos #the regent #aimeric #nicaise #jokaste #my meta #the captive prince meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

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