#my cousins' wives are not ''related'' to me and yet they all feel more like family to me than my male cousins ever did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

schrodingers-hoarding-problem · 1 year

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I have gotten a singular like on my iron widow post thus you are all now subjected to some of my favorite quotes!

also beware of spoilers (plus a bit of commentary on some of the later ones)

“Welcome to your nightmare” (82)

“It’s hilarious. Men want us so badly for our bodies, yet hate us so much for our minds” (94)

“Be their nightmare, Wu Zetian.” (95)

“There’s no guilt, no rage, no hesitation in his eyes. Only a resolve so clear it steals my breath away.” (99)

“I’m becoming no less of a monster, but that’s ok. It takes a monster to slay a monster.” (102)

“Our fingers curl together, much gentler than when we were trying to take each other’s lives.” (109)

“‘A funeral?’ I say with mock casualness. ‘Did the attendees know he died like a girl?’” (113)

“Too bad. I am exactly the kind of ice-blooded, rotten-hearted girl he fears I am. And I am fine with that.” (114)

“‘You think this scares me?’ I say, unbelievably calm for how rabidly I’m fraying apart on the inside. ‘You think I ever liked being alive? Go ahead. Do me a favor.’” (118)

“Okay. So Li Shimin is absolutely fucking bonkers, I guess.” (127)

“Oh no. I am also absolutely fucking bonkers.” (130)

“The bloodlust in his eyes rouses something primal and deep-rooted inside me, something that finds it so… Utterly relatable.” (153)

“Yizhi gulps. A blush reddens his ears, and a quizzical feeling stirs inside me.” (171)

YES!! i am seeing the poly vision

“He should be the Iron King, and I should be the Iron Queen. Yet Iron Demon and Iron Widow is all they’ll let us be.” (199)

“How do you take the fight out of half the population and render them willing slaves? … You tell them over and over, until it’s the only truth they’re capable of living.” (210)

“We are wholly the Vermillion Bird, commanding it in sync.” (239)

“No one’s sure why it worked out for us.” (248)

because of the poly vision ofc

i’m so excited for it

“This isn’t his victory. This is my temporary mercy. With a head full of fantasies of how I’ll flag him alive after he outlived his use, I unzip my pilot coat.” (264)

“Despite their best efforts, I find myself worthy of happiness.“ (276)

“I will slather him for what he did to Shimin. He has shot to the top of my ever-growing hit list. It’s the least I can do.” (283)

“We can live for more. We can live for justice. Change. Vengeance. Power.” (298)

“I like him a lot better than his distant cousin who I killed.” (302)

Me too

“Despite the endless horrors that we’ve both been through, I really am grateful that we survived to meet each other.” (311)

“He snaps the collar off his neck and hurls it to the ground with the force of a thunderclap.” (325)

holy shit these last two pages (324-325) are insane and giving me everything i want YES my vengeance driven queen and king i love you both so so so much

“Before you die, let me confirm something for you: girls like me are everywhere, barely putting up the facade of wives and daughters and concubines. And I don’t think they’ll be very happy about the army’s lies.” (327)

“Perks of refusing to play by the rules: you don’t have to choose between the boy who’d torture a man to death with you and the boy who’d welcome you back with pastries after.” (328)

Yizhi looks at a loss for words for a few seconds, then schools his expression. ‘Don’t be, handsome.’ He winks. I have to bite my lip not to laugh at the look on Shimin’s face.” (331)

“I roll my eyes, make a triangle out of my fingers, and nod.” (331)

YES the poly vision has been realized

i love it here

Xiran Jay Zhao i owe everything to you

“She is perfectly aware and in control of what they’re doing.” (353)

Xiuying wtf i liked you

Qieluo is my only friend now

“Cure the Emperor.” (359)

ooooo yes

“But it doesn’t matter. Male, female, it doesn’t matter when piloting.” (367)

“Her face is stunning, yet her eyes seethe with the deepest, blackest hatred.” (372)

“Wu Zetian … Be their nightmare.” (373)

“Even though everything feels impossible, even though I will never be the same, even though all I want to do is lie down and give up, I make myself keep going.” (373)

“There will be no redemption. It is not me who is wrong. It’s everyone else.” (380)

“I know what real mercy would be. ‘Sorry,’ I say, cold as Big Sister’s ashes. ‘You’re in my way.’” (383)

“Yellow-green lightning bursts across the air.” (386)

HELL YEAH YIZHI patricide win

“Let’s rule the world.” (388)

“The Hunduns are the natives, not—!” (390)

wooooow

honestly i was kinda suspecting it based on what the emperor class hunduns were saying but that’s still insane

ahhhh i can’t wait for the heavenly tyrant

also bring back my boy shimin i miss him

#jae’s thoughts #iron widow #xiran jay zhao #iron triangle #wu zetian #li shimin #gao yizhi

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themountainsays · 2 years

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Incest Guilt

———————

Isalores x Marianolores x Marisa

———————

Dolores wasn’t a stranger to secrets and lies. Her uncle in a wall? We don’t talk about Bruno. So…. Secret. What Maria Martinez and Olivia Rodriguez did together while their husbands were out working? No your wives aren’t screwing each other. Lie. Does Dolores love Isabella? Secret. Does Dolores love Mariano? Lie.

Pretty Simple, right?

Wrong. Absolutely, one hundred percent, WRONG. Because it’s hard to keep a secret when all you want to do is tell your not really okay crush that they are beautiful. That they’re perfect- especially when it’s those moments where Abuela decisions aren’t affecting her.

When Isabella wears that charming smile with her dimples and her eyes closed ever-so-slightly. When she and her are sitting so close that if Dolores would lean in just a little more.

But that’s not okay. So she shoves the feelings deep inside. Remembering her love is betrothed already. She continues about her day, adding more secrets and lies to her ever-expanding list of them.

Afterall, Isabella was out of her league even if they weren’t related.

Then Mirabel and Casita, and the candle all went nuts. Broke apart sending everyone into a frenzy, getting Isabella’s engagement terminated, her own courtship with Mariano started, and the rebuilding of their house. There was so much in so little of a time span that she forgot, if only for a little bit, everything she had to hide.

And Mariano noticed.

She liked him, truly.

“But I’m not the one you love, am I?” He says and her heart stops. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

“No, nonononono, pot favor Mariano,” She begs, “don’t tell anyone. Please. They’d hate me. She’d hate me!” Mariano looked down at her, saddened for himself and for her.

“I think….” He says. “You need to look as well as you hear. Look at her. And promise you’ll try.”

“Mariano-!”

“Thank you Dolores. But it’s time we broke this off.”

Her heart hurts. She doesn’t know why. She tells her family that they broke it off.

They weren’t in love so why did it hurt so much?

Dolores went back to work soon enough. Her list expanding even more. But she kept noticing random flowers and bouquets would appear as she was walking around. When Isabella was in her sight, she could see the love- her prima, her cousin- go all out like she was showing off for someone.

And after Isa would come and ask her about the performance and she’d tell the other girl that she was as beautiful as always.

Though she’d deserve it. Loving her cousin like this.

The days continued, Mariano was nice enough to remain friends with her. He’d still keep asking if she told Isabella yet but the answer was always the same.

“No and I won’t. I- I couldn’t bear it if she was disgusted with me. Worse if… if she hated me.”

Maybe she should pull a Bruno. She could definitely do it better. She could escape before anyone could find her with her hearing.

She had to start avoiding Isabella. It hurt her to be around the other girl.

Isabella has had enough! It’s been two weeks since she had last seen Dolores. Since her last attempt to court her.

The eldest Madrigal grandkid marched across the hall to her Primas room. She has spent her life being scared and being “Little Miss Perfect” and she’d be damned before she let the only light in her life go like this.

She threw open the door, Dolores jumping in shock, and came in.

“Dolores. We need to talk, now.”

kmflknaFnfklfn omg mylo i love this dsnsnjfsnjsk Dolores my baby 😭😭😭 i hope her hot cousin kisses some sense into her 😭😭😭

#madrigalcest #isalores #shipcest #ahh

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aerial-jace · 10 months

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This post goes out to @halogenwarrior because without our discussion from yesterday tickling my brain cells it's not likely I'd be having so many thoughts I wanna go back to with this. Plus, I need something else medieval-themed to hold my attention after that disastrous and very brief stint playing as the King of Jerusalem in CK2. I don't want to immediately go back to my save in which my current character is Emperor of Hispania just yet, I have at least a modicum of dignity in me.

Under the cut because it got long.

OK, SO! When Christ and his Saints Slept yeh? Plot summary for anyone unacquainted: When King Henry I's only legitimate son dies in a shipwreck, his daughter Maude is named as his heir. Once Henry dies, however, it is Maude's cousin Stephen of Blois who claims the throne first. Thus ensues a bloody civil war in which not only is the throne of England at stake but also Maude's very autonomy as it is the only way she can get away from her abusive husband Henry of Anjou.

So, let's talk about Ranulph, Maude's bastard half-brother and one of her most loyal supporters, He's a character I have a much easier time analyzing from my usual lens as it was stated right from the author's preface that he's entirely a literary construct. It's plausible that someone like him existed, afterall Henry I was notorious for having lots and lots of bastard children. But his inclusion was merely about needing him to fulfill certain plot roles and he has absolutely zero basis in any documented history.

As a character I really, really liked him through most of the setup chapters and even into the early stages of Maude and Stephen's war. I liked how he served to bounce off Stephen and served to define his characterization. It's super interesting how by setting them up as father figure and son figure, with Ranulph having been raised in Stephen's court and serving as a squire to him, Ranulph's rejection of Stephen's usurpation hits all the much harder. Stephen's projected persona of being the charismatic and chivalrous ideal nobleman was something that Ranulph took very much to heart and the way this clashed with his usurpation is something he could just not accept.

Maude's bastard brothers generally, both the historically attested ones and the ones that are literary constructs only, play a very interesting thematic role. The very circumstances of their birth mark them as marginal figures, who were capable of attaining power only by the grace of their late father granting wives or landed titles to them. But even knowing the precariousness of their position, even knowing that the safest option is to ingratiate themselves to Stephen, they still decide to put their support behind their sister, the underdog in this conflict, someone some of them outright say they envy.

And it isn't really a question of feeling a kinship over how because of the circumstances of their birth they all are in a more precarious position with relation to power. Some of them outright say they envy Maude for being born out of a legitimate marriage and they definitely still hold the same sexist attitudes as the surrounding culture and think Stephen would be a better king. It definitely comes across as if their main motivation in all this is a deep seated loyalty, first to their father and second to their sister, as well as a sense of chivalry that could be said to be greater than that of born in wedlock royalty like Stephen.

All this to say that it annoyed me greatly how much of this was undermined with Ranulph's romantic subplot and the author doesn't even get the excuse of saying "but that's how it went down in the real world history!" To make a long story short, before he decided to stand with his sister, Ranulph had been engaged to a pretty girl with whom he shared quite the deep romance. The bethrotal arrangement though was purely political, a way to get him an estate of his own and keep him in the inner circle of nobility. So, when the girl's father broke the bethrotal because of Ranulph no longer being on Stephen's side, it not only broke his heart but also pissed her off massively because essentially he chose his sister over her.

This was very good! It helped drive home how this chivalry and loyalty business was not going to be painless and it added depth to Ranulph with a pretty concrete thing he could go back to over and over when questioning if he was fighting in the right side of this war. But then the author went and made them meet in secret behind enemy lines and rekindle their love. And it's all just so urrrrgh.

Like, having Ranulph seek her out? Not a bad idea! Letting them meet again? That's something I was certainly interested in seeing. But the way in that over the course of one outing it seems all of Ranulph's love interest's animosity towards him for choosing Maude over her evaporated was so frustrating. One of the defining sacrifices his character made was so easily invalidated and it just takes off a ton of weight off his continued involvement with Maude just like that.

With other characters I can't really complain about the path their story takes in the same way since the author is working off set events. I may take issue with the framing and the events that get shown to the exclusion or others, but that feels much different. For instance, I take issue with the fact the author felt the need to include a prologue that boils down to "Stephen was very sad as a kid because his daddy went and got himself killing during the Crusades" as opposed to seeing Maude's childhood and first marriage.

Like, it'd be hella dark, don't get me wrong. But don't tell me a child being sent to the court of a foreign aristrocrat to be the future bride of a much older adult is a more interesting story. And not only would it have been a more interesting prologue, it would've done much more to build up Maude's character in a way the prologue with Stephen doesn't. Don't just tell us that she romanticizes that first marriage and romanticizes it in the phase of the indignity of being in her late twenties and married to teenager that on top of it all abuses her. I want to see it for myself how she came to this mindset!

So, uh, yeah. I don't know what these rambles were really building up to. It feels like I should have a grand point or a conclusion but I just needed to vomit up all these thoughts on a book I have yet to finish. So, there y'all go. Hope you're happy to see more meta on more literary kinda books, Halo.

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tilions · 3 years

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hey! yo! you mind talking a bit more about the extended fëanorian family ocs you have? how many there are, how they’re related, when they’re born, the rough arc of their life?

Hello thank you for your ask! No I don't mind talking about them at all! I love them all very much but please be prepared that this is going to be a long one and that I couldn't even fit everything I want to talk about in here

I have talked about Maglor's, Caranthir's and Curufin's wives before so I left them out on purpose. So I'm just going to talk about the third and fourth generation here.

If you exclude Elrond and Elros Maglor and his wife Cellin have four children and in order of their birth their names are Gilloth, Nelladon, Gilrin and Belegur. Gilloth has a son named Arrod, none of the other three are married or have children. Curufin and his wife Aiwë have one more child besides Celebrimbor, Aracundo. Celebrimbor himself has a son named Aenion. Caranthir and Calairie remain childless. I'm not sure yet where Gil-Galad belongs family wise in my headcanon but let's just assume he's Orodreth's son for convenience.

I don't exactly have stories for them all. Aracundo, Nelladon and Aenion are probably the most fleshed out one's when it comes to their stories but I love them all regardless.

A badly drawn family tree for reference. If you want some more details there are about 2k words of bullet points under the cut :)

Gilloth

Daughter of one of Maedhros's guards and Maglor's second in command

Born some time before the Nirnaeth Arnoediad

Both her parents die in the Nirnaeth, and she is taken in by Maglor and his wife Cellin and is raised as their daughter

Loses her voice during the War of Wrath but refuses to tell anyone how it happened (possible Trauma related?)

Helps Celebrimbor run Eregion in the S.A

Is very interested in architecture and has great talent

Also helps with the construction of Rivendell and moves there after Eregion falls

Has great impact on her siblings upbringing

She and Erestor start courting after Glorfindel locks them in a room together and only allows them out after Erestor confesses his feelings

They marry mid Third Age

Their only child is called Araráto or Arrod in Sindarin

Because Maglor has given all his children a father name (be they his real children or not) she got one as well

It's Tintanárë (Sparkling Fire)

She's very close with Aracundo especially during the latter half of the second Age and the early Third Age

Her favourite people in Middle Earth are dwarves. She gets along well with them and even learns some Khuzdul from Narvi because she can't just reveal the secret

She is very strong at Oswanë and uses is constantly to communicate

Elrond has a lot of headaches because she directs her absurd thoughts at him to annoy him

Arrod is her sunshine and she would die for him

Not a very good warrior but she's doing her best

Aracundo

Second Born son of Curufin and Aiwë of the Teleri

Fathername: Artafinwë (Exalted Finwë)

He's my depressed disaster gay

Tall boy™ (maybe even taller than Maedhros?)

Born: 464 F.A (same year as Turin because reasons) in Nargothrond

He doesn't remember his dad because his parents parted ways after the Lúthien incident

He grows up in Cirdans care because that's where his mom took him

His best friend growing up was Ereinion even though the other is several years older than him

He doesn't have a lot of temperament and is more like his mother, calm and sensitive

Fights in the War of Wrath as Ereinion's second in command but is more known for his strategies and not for his actions on the battlefield

He and Ereinion get married early into the Second Age (yes he's Gil-Galad's husband and they love each other very much fight me)

He goes absolutely berserk once he sees his brother used as a banner of Sauron's forces after Eregion falls and probably takes down half their army by himself

People who knew Maedhros had a very very vivid flashback that day

When his mother sails not long after he remains in Middle Earth to fight Sauron

He gets much more quiet and reserved after losing his brother, mother and nephew in one go

He is very much pro Last Alliance and openly supports Elendil but mostly because he wants to avenge Celebrimbor's death

Uh… you know who dies during that battle? Ereinion and Aracundo blames himself for it

He stops speaking and becomes a shadow of himself afterwards

Refuses both the crown and Vilya

Lives with Cirdan for some time but moves to Rivendell after Celebrían sails to support Elrond

Has no big part in the second ring war

He sails alongside Cirdan and Celeborn

His life gets from good to worse to tragic to suffering

But he gets reunited with Ereinion in Valinor so it's not a total tragedy

Nelladon

Maglor's and Cellin's first biological child

Born: 1700 S.A

Died: 2770 T.A.

Has Nerdanel's signature red hair but otherwise full on takes after his mother's side of the family

His fathername is Russanáro (copper fire)

Aso has the epithets Copperhead from the dwarves, Pityatinto (Little Sparkle) from his grandfather and Tyalmahto (Toymaker) from the Numenorians

Self sacrificing idiot (we'll get to that later)

His passion is toymaking but also woodworking but he's also a great singer and loves storytelling

For every new baby family member he makes an abundance of toys and when all of them grow up he travels the world to make toys for the children of other families

The only members of his own family to never receive a toy from him are his younger brother Belegur, as well as his cousins on his mother's side of the family (all of them are born after his death)

A very good boy, only wants to make the people happy

He finds Aenion again with the dwarves of Erebor after they establish their kingdom there

Tries to talk him into visiting their family but stays unsuccessful until his death

Speaking of his death and self sacrificing

He dies during Smaugs attack on Erebor while he tries to make time for Thrain and Thror to escape. He faces Smaug in the throne room with nothing more than a iron shield on him

And burns

He fully knew he was going to die but he did it for his friends

Probably aroace

Also the first member of the House of Fëanor to get re-embodied

Gilrin

Maglor's and Cellin's only biological daughter and Fëanor's only biological granddaughter

Born: 20 T.A.

Like Celegorm she takes after Miriel in terms of appearance but inherited her grandfather Tinwës blonde hair

Not the tallest but still like half an inch taller than Fëanor and Curufin

Has a lot of artistic talent and can paint life like images

She painted the wall painting of Isildur cutting of Sauron's finger only with a very bad sketch from Glorfindel and a mental image provided by Galadriel as a reference

Basically always happy and smiling

Hates it when she has one-sided conversations, feels like she's intruding somehow

Celebrían is her big idol and she was devastated when she got hurt and had to sail

Was even more devastated after Nelladons death and isolated herself for a while

Starts traveling with Gildor and his group from that point on to get some distraction and is among the elves who meet Frodo, Pippin and Sam in the Shire

Will not sail until her parents do

Does her best to support Aragorn as the new king of Gondor because she feels like that's what's she owes to Elrond and partially also Elros even though she never met him

The most Avarian out of her siblings

Belegur

Finwë 2.0

Seriously the boy looks like Finwë as much as Arwen looks like Lúthien

People find it quite disturbing (People are Maglor, Glorfindel and Cirdan)

Fathername: Cuináro (living fire)

Born: either 3019 T.A. or somewhere between 10 and 50 Fourth Age

Youngest member of the House of Fëanor even younger than his youngest nephew

Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen and Arrod call him little uncle and he hates it (he loves it but pretends he hates it)

Spends most of his childhood in Gondor because his parents moved the like almost immediately to be with Aragorn and Arwen

Has a deeper connection to men than all of his other siblings (aside from Elros for obvious reasons)

He feels weird when he sees his best friends from childhood grow up, get children and then see those grow up and have children of their own all while he himself is still a child/teenager/going adult

When Elfwinë's son Éomund II. who he was closest with dies, Belegur is devastated

His relationship with mortality becomes rather complicated afterwards

Dedicated scholar and historian

Also only sails when his parents will

Has a very easy time befriending people

Probably the best warrior out of his biological siblings just because Gilrin hates fighting and Nelladon just doesn't care about weapons

In possession of the one Feanorian Braincell might as well have inherited it from his mother)

Aenion

Celebrimbor's son

Born somewhere between 1620 and 1680 S.A

I have no idea who his mother is, any suggestions?

Thought about making him the love child of Tyelpë and Annatar but this feels kinda weird but also hilarious

Looks like Curufin acts like Caranthir

Cantëacurufinwë™ (blame the fact that Tyelpë is called Nelyacurufinwë)

Aenion probably isn't his real mothername but he calls that himself and everyone just does the same

Grumpy cat™

Raised by dwarves after Eregion fell and stayed with Durin's line until the Sacking of Erebor (Thrain brought him to Rivendell)

Speaks almost no Sindarin but is fluent at Westron and Khuzdul

Has no interest in learning Quenya

Creative use of swear words

A Smith like almost everyone else in his father's line

If he is Sauron's child, he has very much cat eyes and you can't convince me otherwise, also the Ring would probably love him

He goes back to Erebor after the dwarves retake it and helps them rebuild it

Feels very guilty for Nelladons death because he couldn't convince him to flee with him

Can't look Cellin or Maglor in the eye because of this

Fights during the War of the Ring alongside the Dwarves of Erebor

Sails with Gimli and Legolas

Arrod

Son of Gilloth and Erestor

Born sometime after his parents wedding

Takes more after his father in terms of appearance but has been influenced a lot by Glorfindel growing up

A total goof

One of the elves who 'greet' Thorin and company when they arrive in Rivendell

Gets into unnecessary fights very often

Very protective

Loves Estel to death and is very sad when Aragorn grows up and doesn't want to be carried around piggyback style anymore

Does it anyways

Idk I have not thought about him a lot

Here and here are Picrews that visualise them :) || Tolkien OC Overview here

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justthehiddleswrites · 3 years

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Destiny Has Other Plans | Loki x OFC (Alexis Randall) | Prologue

Pairing: Loki x OFC

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him. He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim. An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond. Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds. But it doesn’t mean he has to like it. A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love. Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life. A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them. Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.

“Your daughter seems quite taken with Loki.” Odin leaned over the side of his throne to comment to Freyr. The two glanced down at the two babies playing on the polished floor on the throne room in Vanaheim. The diplomatic trip had quickly devolved into a family reunion.

Freyr turned to smile at his cousin. “I was about to say the same thing to you about your young prince.”

Vanaheim and Asgard, although related by blood, shared a tenuous relationship. Wars plagued their history and more men, and women, had died than either king would like to admit. The two kings shared a knowing glance.

“Are you suggesting what I think you are, Freyr?” Odin smirked.

“I have suggested nothing.” The other king smiled.

“Perhaps our kingdoms could strengthen their bond through those two.” Odin stated.

“I’m listening.”

Frigga overheard the kings speaking in hushed tones. Gerth, Freyer’s wife, noticed as well how the two men gestured at the two babies. Frigga hoped Loki and Sjofn would become friends and companions, as they were both royal heirs to two of the most powerful kingdoms within the Nine Realms. She feared Odin’s wish was more diplomatic and more destructive.

“I do not like how our husbands seem to be speaking of the young ones.” Frigga leaned to whisper to Gerth.

Gerth furrowed her brow. “I agree. You don’t believe they would—”

Odin stood and knocked his specter against the hard floor. The sound echoed throughout the entire cavernous hall.

“The prince and the princess shall be wed upon the coming of age of young Sjofn, uniting the kingdoms of Vanaheim and Asgard!”

Freyr beamed next to Odin, soon standing to join him. The men clapped themselves on the shoulders, quite pleased with themselves as their wives gazed upon them horrified.

“Dear husband,” Frigga weaved her arm with Odin. “don’t you think it would be wise to not rush our son into an arranged marriage. Vanaheim and Asgard are at peace.”

“Do you question my judgment, Frigga? Yes, there is peace now, but its foundation is weak and unstable. Any slight could send us into another war. A war that would cost us the lives of many Asgardians.”

“I do not question you, Odin. I merely caution against toying with the affections of our sons and his future when he is not even old enough to voice opposition, let alone able to walk away from such an arrangement.”

Odin scoffed. “You fret over the boy. I am certain he will come to love the girl as much as I have learned to love.”

He kissed Frigga’s cheek. A peal of laughter cut the tension in the room, as Gerth argued with Freyr a few steps away. Four heads snapped to see Loki blowing kisses with his tiny chubby hand. Sjofn giggled each time, rocking as she sat.

“See?” Freyr gestured to the two of them. “They are already bonding. When will you women learn that we know best? Come Odin, I am in need of some fresh air and to stretch my legs. Leave our wives to coddle and fret over the babes.”

Odin laughed and followed Freyr out of the room, pleased the both of them. Frigga and insert crossed their arms.

“I will learn to listen when you actually do know what is best when it comes to matters of the heart.” Frigga scooped up Loki to cuddle him. “My darling son, I hope you find your true love, despite Father’s best efforts to prevent that.”

A Half Millennium Later

“Sjofn!” Loki called for her attention. Sjofn glanced up from her book with a look of annoyance.

“Yes?” Her voice dripped with disdain, uncharacteristic for someone so young.

“Check this out.” Loki twisted his hands and transformed himself into a snake for a few moments before returning to his Aesir form. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Hm.” Sjofn mumbled before returning to her studies.

Loki pressed his arms against his hips, huffing. “I would like to see you try.”

Sjofn waved one hand, holding her book with the other, and turned Loki into a snake, and then a frog, and then a squirrel, before returning him to his normal form. Loki stood before her, stunned. She giggled at the dumbfounded expression.

“What?” Her lips curled into a smile. “I’ve been doing that spell before I could walk.” Loki’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you just learn that?” Sjofn pushed back her soft brown hair from her eyes. “That’s so cute.”

“It’s not cute. I am a powerful sorcerer.” Loki’s voice holding a twinge of a whine.

“Yes, it is cute. It’s adorable.” Sjofn set her book down and stomped toe to toe with Loki. Even though she was older, Loki stood a full head taller than her. “In fact, it is hilarious you fancy yourself a powerful sorcerer.”

Loki stared into her light blue eyes. If he wasn’t so incensed, the mischief reflecting in her eyes would amuse him.

“Are you insinuating I’m not?” Loki puffed himself to his full height.

Sjofn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was no stranger to young boys and men trying to impress her. Her friends said they wished to catch her eye and win her heart, her hand in marriage, and all the power and prestige that goes with it.

“I will never marry.” Sjofn declared as she repeated the exchange to her mother over dinner that night. Her father was absent on a diplomatic trip.

“A funny statement coming from the goddess of relationships and love.” Gerth chuckled.

“I have not assumed my duties yet. Besides, who says I must wed in order fulfill those duties.”

“True.” Gerth smiled slyly. She had once said the same things to her mother. How quickly things changed when it came to matters of love. “But do not discard away things until you have experienced it.”

Sjofn rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“I am insinuating nothing. I am flat out saying it. You are not a powerful sorcerer. We teach these spells to Vanir toddlers.”

Loki’s face flitted between crestfallen and furious. “Not all of us are naturally gifted. Some of us have to work at our craft.”

Sjofn spun on her heels, the tips of her hair brushing against Loki’s chest. “Perhaps if you spent as much time studying and practicing your craft as you did on drinking, pranks, and romancing the young maidens, you would be the sorcerer you claim to be.”

Loki yelled in frustration. “You are impossible. There is no pleasing you.”

“Who says I need to be pleased?” She resumed prone position on the sofa.

Loki stalked towards her, his hips swayed. “Everyone desires pleasure, dove. Have you not read that in your books?”

Sjofn’s cheeks burned as Loki gazed down at her. He licked his lips, teasing. “Perhaps you need the right teacher.”

“You?!? I would rather kiss a snake.”

“That can be arranged.”

Sjofn stood up and stormed away. “I do not understand why our families insist on these little get-togethers. It is clear we have nothing in common.”

Loki laughed. “Well, you’re wrong. Because I agree with you about that, so we have that in common.”

“Good then, you stay out of my way and I will stay out of yours.”

“That is the first smart thing you have ever said to me.” The two parted ways.

With each visit to either world, the only feeling that grew between the two of them was disdain. Sjofn delighted in dressing down Loki, mocking his magic skills. Loki, meanwhile, taunted Sjofn at every turn. He enjoyed watching her pale skin reddened at his lewd comments. They hated the forced interactions but said nothing to their parents for fear of any reprisal.

Yet Another Half Millennium Later

The moment Sigrun entered the court, she captivated Loki. Word soon spread that the young prince sought to court the fair-haired maiden. The other young suitors backed off. Without the official blessing of the King, it forced Loki and Sigrun to court in secret. A horribly kept secret, but secret just the same. As the years passed, everyone in the palace expected an announcement regarding their betrothal at every ball or palace dinner. But no announcement was made. Loki and Sigrun grew more bold in their couplings.

“My prince.” Sigrun giggled. “They will find us.”

Loki nipped at her swollen lips. His entire body pressed hers against the cold stone of the pillar in the palace hallway. “That makes it all the much better. The thrill of being caught.” Loki’s cock strained against his leather pants. His hips bucking against her. She let loose a soft whimper.

“Loki…” she moaned as her hands tugged at his pants, struggling to free him. “I need you.”

Loki kissed her hard, his tongue demanding. Her hands freed him as Loki rucked up her skirt.

“My darling, Sigrun.” Loki cooed. “And I need you.”

As he plunged himself into her, Sigrun gasped, her head hitting the hard stone pillar.

“Yes, my love.” she moaned.

Loki snapped hard against her. “That’s it. Mold around my cock, sweet dove. You are so wet.”

Loki grabbed Sigrun’s leg, hooking it around his waist.

“Please Loki.” Sigrun pleaded as her orgasm drew close. “I need to…”

“Come undone for me, my sweet.” Loki adjusted his body to thrust deep into her, hitting that sweet spot.

Sigrun’s nails dug into Loki’s shoulders as she came. Her walls clenched around Loki. He soon followed her, spilling into her. Loki pressed his forehead against her.

He kissed her sweetly. “I love you, Sigrun.” Loki smoothed back her disheveled golden curls.

Her arms wrapped around her neck, burying her head into the crook. “And I love you.”

Loki’s heart swelled. “Then be mine. For always.”

Sigrun pulled back, staring at Loki in shock.

“Are you asking—”

“Marry me.” Loki’s nose nudged along her cheek, pecking along the smooth skin. “Be my wife.”

“But what of your father, he would need to approve of the union?” Her brows knitted together.

Loki’s lips pressed where the frown lines marred Sigrun’s face. “Leave Odin to me. Now is the answer yes?”

Sigrun hugged him tight. “Yes, yes, of course I will marry you.” She hopped in place.

Loki smiled down at her. “I will speak to him tonight after dinner.” He kissed her one more time. “I will come for you and we will celebrate properly. In my bedchambers.”

Sigrun shivered in anticipation. “Yes, my prince.”

Loki groaned. “You know what that does to me, sweet.” His hands fisted her dress. “I shall have to take you again, if you continue to speak in such a manner.”

Sigrun giggled. “I shall keep that in mind. But if I am gone much longer, they will notice my absence.” She did her best to straighten her hair and clothes and kissed his cheek. “Until tonight, my love.”

Loki’s hand held hers as she walked away, his fingers slipping away when she stepped out of range. He smiled, focused on her until she disappeared from sight.

“Absolutely not. I can not approve of this union.” Odin retorted cooly from his throne to Loki, who stood before him.

“Why not?” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Lady Sigrun is of noble blood. Her family is favored within the palace. I should think it would please you to see me settling down.” Loki lowered his voice. “Unlike Thor.”

“Your brother’s love life has no relevance in this matter. Lady Sigrun is a fine match.” Odin gripped his specter tighter, expecting a fight. “Just not for you.”

“And again I ask, why not?” Loki quickly grew more infuriated by the second.

“You are already betrothed.”

Loki blinked in disbelief. “I don’t recall proposing to another. Tell me, Father, who am I set to…” Loki’s face narrowed in realization. “… It’s Sjofn. What have you done, Father?!”

“Joined two kingdoms. Strengthened our rule.”

“By promising me to a woman I barely know?!”

“Because you choose not to learn anything about her! Sjofn will be your wife when she comes of age. That is the end of the discussion.”

Tears welled in Loki’s eyes. “And I get no say in the matter?! While Thor is allowed to whore around with whoever he chooses?”

“Has anyone stopped you from seeking the comfort of whatever young maiden caught your eye?”

“ Thor may marry for love, I can not?”

“Precisely. Your mother and I were not a love match. I imagine you too can learn to love Sjofn in time. And I expect you to behave on their next trip here in the coming weeks.”

“And if I don’t?” Loki spat out the words. If he dared, he would strike Odin. Hot tears stung his eyes. “If I refuse to marry her?”

Odin sighed. He had hoped Loki would approach the whole matter with a calm and collected manner. “You would be banished. For the good of the Nine Realms.”

Loki huffed before spinning on his heel. “Well, we wouldn’t want something as insignificant as your son’s happiness to interfere with the good of the Realm. Would we?” He slammed the door behind him, stomping off to his chambers.

He did not call for Sigrun that night. Or the next. Or even the next. Finally, on the fourth day, he sent a note indicating he no longer wished to marry her. Loki cruelly gave no further explanation, believing it would be better if Sigrun thought he rejected her rather than the truth.

“Why must I go to Asgard, Father?” Sjofn whined as her maids packed her luggage for the weeklong stay.

“Because it is your duty as my daughter to entertain other kingdoms.” Freyr sighed.

These trips between Vanaheim and Asgard tired both him and Sjofn. While Freyr and Odin hoped frequent contact between the two would spark something. They had not planned on that something being contempt.

Sjofn delighted in insulting Loki, particularly his magic prowess. While Loki ignored Sjofn entirely, his eye wandered to the nearest young maiden instead.

“Then why must I spend the trip entertaining Loki? Couldn’t I hang out with Sif or even Thor instead? Loki is such a bore.” Sjofn rolled her eyes and flopped down on her bed, hair crowning her head. “Or better yet, can we just tell them I am sick and unable to travel? I would much rather stay and be with my friends. People whose company I enjoy.”

Freyr’s patience gave out. “ENOUGH!!” Sjofn jolted upright. “You will accompany me to Asgard and I don’t want to hear another word about it!”

Gerth came alongside Freyr, placing her hand on his arm. His shoulders relaxed at the touch. “Tell her, darling. She has a right to know.”

Freyr nodded as Sjofn panicked.

“Tell me what? What have you done, Father?” She stood and walked towards her father, suspicious.

Freyr cleared his throat, tugging his tunic straight. “You’re old enough to know, but learn to like Loki, your future happiness depends on it.”

“Why?” Her head cocked to the side.

“Because you are promised to him.” Freyr winced for the outburst.

Those words hung in the air heavy as Freyr’s voice bounced off the walls of Sjofn’s bedchamber. She stumbled back as if shot until the backs of her legs hit her bed and she fell onto it. She muttered unintelligible gibberish.

“What did you do?” she hissed, narrowing her at her father, the king.

Hiding his fear of what his daughter might do, Fryer pulled to his full height and puffed out his chest. “I did what I needed to do to strengthen and protect our kingdom. An alliance with the Asgardians only benefits us?”

“By selling away your daughter’s heart and happiness?” Sjofn growled, her voice growing louder by the minute.

“By making a strategic relationship decision beneficial to all of us.” He stepped back and Sjofn rose to her feet.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Sjofn screeched. “I am not marrying Loki! I do not love him.”

“Since when does love have any sort of place in marriage?! You will not speak to me that way!” Freyr fired back. “I am not only the king of Vanaheim, but your father. I demand respect!”

Tears streamed down Sjofn’s face. “Respect is earned, Father! Never demanded! How could you? To your own daughter?!” She collapsed upon the bed, sobbing.

Freyr stood silent for a moment, sharing a glance with Gerth. “We leave in the morning. I expect you to be ready on time.” He turned on his heel and left Gerth in the room to comfort Sjofn.

Gerth sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her daughter’s back.

“Your father means well.”

“Did you know, Mother?” she snapped back.

Gerth nodded sadly. “Frigga and I tried to convince Odin and your father to reconsider. Allow you and Loki to grow to like each other naturally. To see if a love match could be made. But you know how it is when your father makes up his mind.”

Sjofn chuckled through her tears. “You would have better luck trying to capture the morning light in a jar.”

Gerth smiled. “Indeed. Is Loki really all that bad?”

Sjofn harumped to sit next to her mother, wiping away her tears. “He is arrogant, smug, and conceited. Loki cares more about what is between a woman’s legs than between her ears.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

“You seem to be awfully perceptive about a man you despise.” Gerth couldn’t resist commenting, earning an eye roll.

“I only notice because it is impossible to ignore.”

“Whatever you say.” She kissed her forehead. “I will make your excuses for dinner, but you will have to travel tomorrow.”

Sjofn nodded, the tears threatening to fall once again.

“Try to find the positive of the situation.” Gerth commented before rising to leave. “Perhaps Loki is not the cad you make him out to be.”

“Yes, mother.”

Sjofn waited until she was certain her mother had left before hurling her pillow at the door.

“Fat fucking chance.”

Loki noticed Sjofn’s puffy and bloodshot eyes the next morning as he waited to receive her and her father.

“Have you been crying after me, darling?” His voice sounded sincere, but his smirk betrayed his true intentions.

Sjofn snapped back, in no mood to tangle with him. “Do not flatter yourself. If you must know, I was informed we are to wed.”

“Unhappy news indeed. I am afraid I was informed as well of our intended betrothal. Allow me to put your mind at ease, I have no intentions of marrying you.”

“Did you think I would marry you?! I knew you were arrogant, I did not realize you were stupid too.” Sjofn sneered.

Loki grabbed her and pulled her close. “Keep your voice down. I have plans already in motion to ensure my father no longer wields his power over me or any other subject. I would suggest we go along with this ruse until my plans are complete. Then you will be free to marry or not.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

Loki only smiled in response.

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki angst #loki smut #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki series #destiny has other plans

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janeyseymour · 3 years

Text

Jane's Journey- Chapter 3

prelude. 1. 2.

Jane’s sudden disappearance left Katherine sitting alone in the kitchen. Sipping on her tea at this moment seemed wrong. It wasn’t right of her to be drinking out of the blonde’s mug without her presence to grace the pink haired queen. She chose to down it instead before slowly going about cleaning the kettle and the mugs before placing them back in their respective homes.

The third queen couldn't stop the tears that flowed freely down her face as she slid down the wall closest to her door that night. The glass box that she held around Henry- all of the things she held near and dear to her heart about him, the only one she truly loved- was shattered in the instant that she realized what a terrible thing he had done to Katherine. Poor, sweet Katherine who she had left alone in the kitchen. How had she been foolish enough to not see it before? And how could she be so irresponsible and rude to leave Katherine to deal with the aftermath of making tea that she had offered to make in the first place?

Knowing she wasn’t going to get much more sleep that night, she shuffled her way down to the kitchen, being ever so careful as to watch where she was stepping. Only then was she met with the cleanliness of the kitchen and Katherine, who was now back in her seat and looking as if she hadn’t moved since the silver queen’s outburst. The only thing that gave away that she had moved at all was the appliance and cups were placed back where they were supposed to be.

“I’m sorry I fled like that,” the blonde had the decency to look abashed. “You didn’t have to clean up my mess. I was coming back down to right it.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“You didn’t make me feel any sort of way Katherine. It was him, not you, and I’m so sorry I didn’t see that until now.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But it-”

“You didn’t tell him to do all of the terrible things he did. You didn’t have any sort of hand in not being able to hold your son. You couldn’t help any of that, and you can’t help the way that history has lied to us and about us for centuries now. Nothing that happened then is your fault.”

“Fine. Well, then I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted since we’ve come back.”

“Like I said, you’re just dealing with reincarnation differently than the rest of us. But when you’re ready, we’ll always be here.”

“I-” Jane fought the urge to run at this moment of kindness Katherine was showing her. “Thank you.”

“Yeah no problem.”

“Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?”

“I probably won’t be able to get back to sleep for tonight, but you should probably get some shut eye.”

The blonde silently cursed herself- Katherine had to be awake for something troubling her, not just worrying about her, and she hadn’t even had the decency to ask if she’d like to speak about it.

“I probably won’t be getting much sleep either tonight,” the third queen stifled a yawn. “In my fit, I completely forgot to ask if you were okay.”

The fifth queen looked at her oddly. Jane had never asked if anyone was okay before. And if she was being honest with herself, she’d rather not speak of what was troublesome to her, but she figured this might be an inch closer to getting Jane to open up to her- to get closer to the woman who had closed herself off.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m okay, but I’m better than I could be. Your tea really helped- thank you for that by the way. I mean it when I say it was really good. You’ll have to let me know how you do it.”

Jane blushed. “It’s made with extra l-” love , she thought. “-Loads of honey!” If Katherine could tell she was going to say the other L word that she hardly spoke, she wouldn’t say anything.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Katherine tapped her head.

“Do you, uh...” Jane scratched her head. She wasn’t good at this whole, listening to others talk about their feelings. “Listen, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say here. So forgive me if this is overbearing, but I’m trying. I think I’m ready to make an active effort in becoming part of whatever strange family the rest of you queens have developed. So, would you like to talk about it?”

A smile spread across the pink haired queen’s face. “I think I would, actually.”

“Well, it seems like we’re going to be down here for a while. Would you fancy another cup of tea?” Katherine nodded at that. Jane flitted around the kitchen again. Katherine would notice that Jane had taken extra care in fixing their tea again- a care that she wouldn’t normally take if she was just making it for herself. A few minutes later, the two mugs the fifth queen had just finished putting away were set back on the table, and Jane sat back in her spot awkwardly.

“Well, go on,” she said curtly before sipping her tea.

“I suppose that, uhm, this life is quite strange,” Katherine began, and Jane nodded her head to indicate she was listening. “We’ve sort of forged this family... which is quite weird. Who would have thought that his six wives would come back without him, only to create this sort of found family where we all have each others’ backs.”

Jane couldn’t help but interject, “Well, five out of six.”

“You have my back right now, sitting here and listening in the dead of night. The six of us Jane.”

“Okay, okay. Continue.”

“We’ve created this family, and I guess I never really had a sense of what family was, or should be like. I know you know all about the men who ultimately are the reason who got me... but back then, my home life was certainly not anything to boast about. Mother had died when I was five, and father had sent me off to live with my step-grandmother- a nasty and bitter woman. I was overlooked by my brother and cousins quite often. I’m not sure how your home-life was, but I’m sure you can relate to that. I’ve read up on your past, and-”

“No one gave you the right to do that,” Jane snapped, the warmth that was beginning to creep into her eyes quickly replaced with a dullness.

“I’m so-”

“Yeah, you’re so sorry,” Jane retorted, a bitterness lacing her voice. “You just had to be nosey and read up on me. You said it yourself, history lies. I was right here, and you didn’t have the respect to ask me yourself.”

“Well, Jane, with all due respect,” Katherine treaded lightly. “I was afraid this was how you would react if I tried to speak with you before you were ready. I didn’t want to intrude on your healing.” The fifth queen made herself appear smaller.

“I just fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Well, maybe a little,” the pink queen giggled slightly. “But, you can always fix it. I’m pretty forgiving.”

“I’m sorry. I just- this is all so new. I don’t really quite know how to handle myself very well yet I suppose.”

“It’s alright. We’re all adjusting. Some of us just need a bit more time than the others, like I was saying. It’s all really new to me too. Only recently have I let the others take me under their wing. But now that that’s happening and all...” Katherine looked away briefly, the only light in the room making her look younger than ever. “I guess I’m just nervous it’s not going to be any different than it was back then. You know, get close to them, let them use me for whatever they need, and then they drop me. Or, well, I don’t really know. It’s silly now that I’m voicing these things.”

“I- I don’t think it’s silly. It’s a fear, and a rational one at that. You’ve been hurt before, so you’re trying to protect yourself. I, uh, me too. Every time I see a small child with their mother, I can’t help but feel angry because... I want- or at least I wanted- that. I wasn’t getting close to you guys because... I feared that if I did, fate would have it that I would just have to leave again. It’s not... It’s not silly. I understand the feeling,” Jane reassured the younger woman. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a much better job than I am at readjusting to this strange world. And for someone so young too, you really have your head on straight. You should be proud of that.” In those last few sentences, Jane resisted the urge to place a reassuring hand on the other’s shoulder. She had already crossed enough lines tonight: joining Katherine, listening to Katherine, exposing her vulnerability to Katherine. It would all be too much, and she wasn’t quite ready to cross the line that might make the younger woman uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry you understand the feeling.”

Jane shrugged. “It is what is it, right?”

“Yeah,” Katherine agreed. “You know... Back then, I was a big fan of yours. Everyone said you were so warm and kind. I dreamed of meeting you, and maybe even being a lady in waiting. There were people who said you were the kindest woman they had met, and we were lucky to have you as queen. People who said you were going to be a great mother when news broke out that you were with child. I imagined myself there with you often. It would’ve been a much better life than the one I had lived.”

The blonde smiled sadly, remembering all of the same thoughts she had since meeting the sweet woman. “Yeah, well... fate didn’t seem to work out for either of us, now did it?”

“No, it might not have. But we’re here now, right? We can right what was wrong? Make the best out of what we’ve got right?” The fifth queen prayed Jane wouldn’t shut her out now. They were seemingly making progress.

“You’re right. I think I’ll do my best to be a bit warmer around you all from now on. I do hope you know I really am sorry for the way I’ve treated you all, especially you.”

“C-can I ask why me specifically?” the younger woman asked meekly.

“I- I’m not quite sure I’m ready to reveal that yet. Maybe another day.” The third queen wasn’t ready to reveal that something about Katherine drew her in. She wasn’t ready to admit that if she had won her fight for her life all those years ago, she most certainly would’ve taken a sweet young Katherine in and treated her as her own- as a big sister to her sweet Edward.

“That’s just fine.” The two sat in silence for a few seconds before Jane broke it.

“Thank you for showing me how to get through the house quietly,” the blonde muttered.

“Yeah, no problem,” the pink haired woman replied.

“How did you learn how to do that?”

“Well, uh...”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” Jane assured her.

“No it’s fine. I learned because well, back in our old lives, when I was living with my step-grandma, she had really strict rules. We were given our meals, and that’s what we dealt with. Once we were sent to our rooms for the night, we weren’t allowed to get back out of bed. Of course though, there was never enough food that she made for us, and I always got the short end of the stick. So, at night when I knew that evil woman was asleep, I would make my way through the house quietly and find little morsels of food to eat. I learned how to make it through the house silently here too. I just didn’t want to be a burden to any of you if you were sleeping.”

“Oh Kat.” The nickname slipped out with ease. “Oh shit, can I call you Kat?” The silver queen suddenly felt extremely self-conscious of herself. The fifth queen just nodded. “You would never be a burden to any of us. We all buy this food for all of us to eat. Please tell me you know that.”

“I mean, yeah I know that. I just- I don’t know. Whatever I eat I usually replenish as soon as I can anyway. Catherine will normally go with me to the store saying she ‘needs a break from hurricane Anne’, so we go.”

“Is that why there is a seemingly never-ending supply of granola bars?” Jane’s eyes were soft again, and Katherine would be lying to herself if she said she liked this side of the woman next to her much more than the distant woman she thought she knew. It was warm, almost maternal. Almost. She nodded once more.

“Maybe next time, I could accompany you?”

“I-I think I’d really like that,” the younger woman blushed.

“Well, I think we’ve passed a good amount of time down here, yeah?”

“Yeah. We should probably be getting back to bed.” Katherine stood and held out her hand expectantly.

“I can clean it up.” Jane held onto her mug firmly.

“Well, you made the drinks. I figured I could be some help and-”

“Let someone take care of you for once Kat,” the older woman chided her gently before whisking the cup away from her and heading to the sink to clean them.

“Thank you for letting me use your mug.”

“Of course Kat.” She finished washing them and placed them on the drying mat, only for Katherine to pick them back up and dry them before carefully putting them back where they were meant to be in the morning.

When the two made their back upstairs, the pair stood outside Jane’s room in a comfortable silence.

“Well, goodnight I guess. I hope you get some good sleep.” The fifth queen began to shuffle awkwardly down the hall to her room before Jane called out.

“Kat!” she whisper-yelled, although it sounded more like a hiss. Why was she angry? Hadn’t the two just had a good night together? Jane made her way down to the pink haired queen, although much slower, trying to replicate the movements the younger woman had just made. “C-Can I hug you?”

“I- uh-” The fifth queen stumbled out, shocked that of all the people in the house, it was her that Jane wanted to hug first.

“No, no, you’re right. That was foolish of me. I’m sorry for crossing that boundary. I’ll just be going back to-” her words were paused when a certain someone’s pink ponytail ended up in her mouth, slim arms wrapping around her waist.

Jane was stiff. Yes, she had initially asked to give the teen in front of her a hug, but then it dawned on her: she hadn’t hugged anyone since being brought back to life. This body was new to her, and she didn’t quite have a handle on it yet. The fifth queen didn’t quite let go yet though, hoping and praying that the third queen would reciprocate. Slowly, the blonde undid herself from the younger woman, only to reach up and pull her into her arms. It was a funny sight to see really; Katherine bending down to allow the older woman to wrap her arms around her.

“Thank you,” Jane muttered into her hair. “For letting me be when I needed it. I’ll make this right, I promise you.”

“I’m sure you will Jane,” the pink queen whispered back.

“I’m sure there will be bumps in the road, but I promise you: I’m going to do my best.”

“I believe you,” Kat affirmed- the first time she would utter these words in this new life and truly mean them.

When the two separated, Jane looked up at the younger woman with a look that could only be described as a maternal love. “Get some sleep now Kat. I’ll see you in the morning.” She made her way back to her room silently, leaving Katherine in her spot.

“Goodnight Jane,” she whispered back before turning in for the night.

As Jane tucked herself back into her bed for the night, she looked up at the ceiling and sighed, “Oh Eddie. How lucky you would’ve been to have Kat as a sister.”

Both women dreamed of family that night. Katherine dreamt of her new found family, a certain blonde woman now included. Jane dreamt of Edward and Katherine- sans Henry.

#six the musical #six musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #jane seymour six #six jane seymour #katherine howard six #six katherine howard #kat howard

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metanoiamorii · 3 years

Text

❛A DEVIL'S FINEST TRICK IS TO PERSUADE YOU THAT HE DOES NOT EXIST.❜

Dámianus took in a breath when he heard the familiar, annoying footsteps stomping forward. With haste, came the familiar, annoying voice. "Can you believe it?!"

Breathing in, it took his full strength to keep a leveled tone, not show his annoyance. "Believe what?"

His brother scowled, as if he was the idiot present. "They failed!"

"Pity." Was all Dámianus could think to say. He had to hide his smile upon hearing the news. He had an act to keep. "They must have not followed the plan, I did give them detailed instructions after all."

"How are you so apathetic?!" Makjo scoffed, eyes rolling. "That's our father—"

"Your father." Dámianus corrected. "You are his son, I am his errand boy."

"Oh wow, its a misery you proved yourself capable and he saw your potential!" Makjo mockingly threw back, going as far to make a fake, crying gesture to accompany his words.

Dámianus, however, quick to smile, tilted his head to the side. "Oh, does that mean he saw no potential in you?"

It was worth it, to watch the brat's features scrunch and his face to go red. A finger raised, and going to bite back. "You—"

Already walking off, Dámianus tucked the parchment beneath his arm. "I suppose I will go meet with our allies and see what went wrong." Casually he spoke, striding forward, leaning down, pecking his brother's cheek, and using the opportunity to quietly whisper, "Don't grow too comfortable. Many people will come for your crown." Before Makjo could reply, he had already taken his leave, to find better company he could tolerate.

At least the brat was an idiot. He had yet to see through everything. He had slipped up with their father, the bastard caught on at the last second. He barely corrected that.. But he had no doubt with Makjo, the brat would never see anything coming... still. He needed to be more careful if all were to be successful.

♧ Chosen Name: Dámianus D'truiryxr

♧ Aliases:

• Dame

• Dami

• Damocles Aliah Teivel; his human guise

• Your Glorious Insane Highness

• Ali; reserved for his nanny alone

• Funny Monkey Man; reserved for his partner

• Lord Teivel

• Princeling

♧ Known as:

• The Angel Of Darkness

• The Mad One of The Void

• The Mad Trickster

• The Mad One

• The Trickster of Madness

• The Bane of All

• The Lord of the Citadel of Madness

♧ Gender: Agender

♧ Preferred Pronouns: He/They

♧ Race: Old One

♧ Sexuality: Grey-Asexual; Aromantic

♧ Ethnicity: Will appear Kiyese in a human guise

♧ Height: 7'02 in his true appearance; 6'03.5 in a human appearance

♧ Age Appearance: In a human guise he appears in his late thirties, early forties.

♧ True Appearance: Dámianus is said to take after his mother more than his father. From his father he inherited the smooth rounded ears and slim, nearly hairless tail with a tuft of black fur at the tip. As the natural red eyes he possesses. He's rather slim, but tall, with pale skin. He possesses a set of dark wings that tend to drag behind him and are rarely used. For the most part, humanoid.

♧ Human Appearance: For the life of me, I cannot find out their name, so if anyone knows it please tell me.

♧ Key Personality Traits: Manipulative, Cunning, Brilliant, Quick-witted, Vengeful, Well Mannered

♧ Alignment: Lawful Evil

♧ Parents:

• Rihtyxr, father

• Unknown mother

♧ Siblings:

• Hinvyka, brother

• Kysia, sibling

• Tysie, sister

• Nevzan, brother

• Makjo, brother [deceased]

• Mal'rybos, brother

• Slyra, brother [deceased]

• A several hundred other siblings

♧ Partner(s):

• Misam

♧ Other Blood Relations:

• Tyronjis, uncle

• Kaiuroga, aunt

• Arz-Ler'erso, uncle

• Trik'Rjrkite, uncle

• Au-Zaiur'hka, aunt

• Rons'ta, uncle

• Gazini, cousin

• Ao-Ao, cousin

• Eoau, cousin

• Ny'jsetti, cousin

• Jitka Shirin, nanny, sister and maternal figure

♧ Allies:

• Isfétte

• Jitka Shirin

• Kregznic

• Marzomme

• E'aligesri

• Rohabizal

• Ao-Ao

• Eoau

• Gazini

• Jinx

• Ianira

• Misam

• Mehpijka'om

• Eskrja

• Grumpy

• A few hundred others I haven't fleshed out

♧ Enemies:

• Rons'ta

• Tyronjis

• Kaiuroga

• Arz-Ler'erso

• Trik'Rjrkite

• Au-Zaiur'hka

• Rihtyxr

♧ Brief Backstory:

The eldest of Rihtyxr's hundreds of children, Dámianus always served closer as an errand boy than a son. He grew up fast, without the choice of a childhood, to take care of his siblings. Early on, he accepted his role in the family and gracefully handled the responsibilities thrusted onto him. The older— maturer— he became, the more he would distant himself form his family and those family ties. He treated his family like colleagues and allies and not a family.

Only by the influence of Jitka and Isfétte would Dámianus finally accept his gifts and natural talent as a mastermind, and one manipulative son of a bitch. With their assistance and guidance, he would hone his talent to have power over them. When he finally held a strong belief in himself, he set himself to the task of consuming power. Slowly, he turned the allies of his family against them, buying their loyalty to serve him.

With the dependence the family held on him to make their plans and ensure their survival, he was able to trick them. He fooled them into going to war with Khaalida, and trapped them under her watch. The power vacuum was his for the taking... But he decided to play the long game. He allowed his siblings to fight for the power, and he accompanied his cousin— G'javinizia — on his travels across the multi-verse for a time. To further his own knowledge and powers.

When he finally became confident in himself once more, he returned. He got his old allies in line and began to form new ones. And soon, he finally began to get involved in the affair of Viogia to plant his influence. When his influence was sewn deep, Dámianus created his human guise and entered, to act first hand and began inacting the plans he had started so long ago.

♧ Weapon of Choice:

• Roibac'da, The Whip of Insanity

• Tac'bet, a sentient chain

• A set of chained gloves

• His signature cloak

• His sword collection

• A treasured fan he's gifted to his partner

♧ Classification: Trickster

♧ Power Domain: Madness, Trickery, Illusion, Psychic, Enchantment, Time, Wishes

♧ Playlist:

• Burn, Beth Crowley

• Where The Lonely Ones Roam, Digital Daggers

• Coming Home, Avenged Sevenfold

• Feeling Good, Michael Buble

• Broken Crown, Mumford and Sons

• Leader of the Broken Hearts, Papa Roach

• Centuries, Fall Out Boys

• Everyone Wants To Rule The World, Future Royalty

• When You're Evil, Voltaire

• You're Gonna Go Far Kid, The Offspring

• Hard To Kill, Beth Crowley

• Trouble, Valerie Broussard

• You Can Run, Adam Jones

• The Dark Ones, Karliene

• Keep You Safe, Crane Wives

• She Lit A Fire, Lord Huron

• Control, Halsey

• Castle, Halsey

• Monster, Imagine Dragons

• When The Day Comes, Nico and Vinz

• Last One Standing, Simple Plan

• Soldier's Dance, Adrisaurus

• Final Warning, Skylar Grey

• Angel of Darkness, Alex C

• Meet Me On The Battlefield, SVRCINA

• Night Of The Hunter, 30 Seconds To Mar

• Bad Man, King 810

• Throne, Bring Me The Horizon

• I'd Love To Change The World, King 810

♧ Current Wip: Coming Home [CH], The Legacy of Vires Ius [TSOVI], Mercy No More [MNO], A Rope In Hand [ARIH]; he's likely to appear in all of my wips in Viogia as a source of problem starter.

COMING HOME:

THE LEGACY OF VIRES IUS:

A ROPE IN HAND:

GENERAL:

ON ALL:

♧ Some fun facts!

• He has a pet cat named Grumpy, it's based off a displacer beast!

• He takes a shot of whiskey every time one of his idiots does something stupid.

• He's a man that just wants a vacation at this point, somewhere nice and quiet, a distant beach, without responsibilities.

• He says he doesn't like children, but if given the opportunity he'd probably adopt an entire orphanage or seventy.

• The only people he will possibly listen to, to get him to back down from doing something, is Jitka and Isfétte.

• He knows how to hold a grudge. It doesn't matter how many years it takes, he'll get payback... In an extreme fashion that is probably unwarranted in that degree.

• Given the chance, he would kill 96% of his siblings and family...

• Although he's the source of major chaos in the universe, he cares deeply for order and rules.

• In public he will dress in tailcoats, but as long as he's home he prefers to wear a variety of kimonos.

• The only way you can upset him is by: mentioning Rons'ta in his presence, favoring his siblings in his presence, dissing his nanny, being disrespectful towards women when he's around, hurting and/or belittling children and animals in his presence. And then, and only then, he'll kill you without remorse!

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kiarcheo · 3 years

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It's All Coming Back to Me Now 1/?

This idea has been living in my brain for 6 months at least and now I'm finally writing it down. I love it a lot and I hope you'll like it too.

‘So, if every queen came back, does it mean…’ she looks around.

‘She hasn’t graced with her presence in a while, bu-’ Anne stops as Katherine abruptly stands up and drops into a deep curtsy.

Catalina is standing still on the stairs, as frozen, eyes fixated on the new arrival. Then, without saying a word, she turns on her heels and disappears upstairs again.

‘Don’t take it personally.’ Anna repeats the same words she had been told as she sees Katherine’s face falling. ‘She did the same with me.’

As usual also on ao3.

_______________________

The queens come back one by one.

When Anne Boleyn joins her in the house where their… benefactors? Supervisors?...have been hosting them, Catalina is disappointed but not particularly surprised. She has no idea why she has been brought back or how, but she had overheard one of her…handlers?...saying something about Henry VIII’s wives. Obviously, that had meant Anne, no matter how much Catalina had wished to never see her again.

Jane Seymour is…not terribly unexpected. If not the person, the fact that Anne didn’t last as queen. If Catalina is being petty, she’ll say that it’s because obviously Anne wasn’t fit to be a queen. But if she is being honest… from what she remembers about Jane as her maid-of-honour, she had been much more accommodating and demurer than Anne, which probably suited Henry better. The king might have enjoyed intellectual discussions…but only as long as they ended with him being right.

Anna of Cleves showing up throws the other three women off, Catalina especially.

‘Excuse me, but how many wives did he have exactly?’ She doesn’t expect an answer. If Jane had no idea there had been another woman after her, Anna probably won’t know either.

‘Six. So if we’re going in order…the next one would be Katherine Howard.’

‘Howard?’ Anne repeats.

‘She was your cousin, yes.’

Catalina lets out a strangled sound, before storming away.

‘Don’t take it personally.’ Jane reassures the new arrival. ‘She has a temper.’

Anne snorts. Catalina had a temper? She has her issues with the first queen, but the Spaniard isn’t the one among them more likely to end up screaming in your face…

They end up not seeing Catalina for days. Not that they would spend time together before, but every now and then they would try to coexist in the same room, some attempts more successful than others. But now the first queen spends all her time in her room, getting out only for rare trips to the kitchen. Anne and Jane dissuade Anna from checking on her, saying that she probably needs time to come to terms with the news and that it’s better to leave her alone. Since they know her better than her – who has never met her before coming back in this new life – Anna defers to their expertise.

When the fifth queen arrives, Jane and Anne are taken aback by how young she looks. Despite being related to them, she is clearly familiar and more comfortable with Anna, so they leave the explanations to the German queen, piping in only when their ‘longer’ experience in this second life of them is called upon.

‘So, if every queen came back, does it mean…’ she looks around.

‘She hasn’t graced with her presence in a while, bu-’ Anne stops as Katherine abruptly stands up and drops into a deep curtsy.

Catalina is standing still on the stairs, as frozen, eyes fixated on the new arrival. Then, without saying a word, she turns on her heels and disappears upstairs again.

‘Don’t take it personally.’ Anna repeats the same words she had been told as she sees Katherine’s face falling. ‘She did the same with me.’

---

The first queen had been having nightmares every single night since…what feels definitely too long. Nothing new. But that night the dreams are particularly vivid and even worse than usual. Perhaps that’s why when she manages to wake herself up and slowly comes to consciousness to a comforting presence, she doesn’t question it.

‘¿Catalina?’ she breathes out ‘¿Eres tu?’

‘Sí, mi reina.’

The older queen holds out her hand out of habit and Katherine immediately takes it. ‘Estoy aquí.’ She kisses her hand. ‘¿Necesita algo?’

She shakes her head. It wakes her up a bit more, and she realises the young girl is kneeling by her bedside. ‘How long?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Now it’s Katherine’s turn to shake her head.

‘Get in.’ Catalina scoots over and raises her sheet. ‘But I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.’ She adds seeing Katherine’s hesitation.

‘It’s just…I’m not a little girl anymore.’

‘Are you going back to your room?’

‘If you wish so.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘Then I’ll stay.’

‘I’m told it’s a queen size.’ It gets a chuckle out of both. ‘I’m sure we both can fit.’ She sees Katherine’s reluctance wavering. ‘I would sleep better knowing you are not on the floor.’

Katherine looks like she knows she has been played but acquiesces, so Catalina is surprised to wake up alone the next morning.

For the first time in forever she goes downstairs for breakfast and lingers around, much to the other queens’ surprise, hoping to catch the girl.

‘Has Katherine come down yet?’ It’s Anna who asks the question that is also on Catalina’s mind. The fourth queen frowns at the shakes of heads she receives. ‘She didn’t eat a lot yesterday.’ She had barely picked at her food to be precise. Claimed she was tired and the whole ordeal of coming back to life had left her all out of sorts, but Anna is quite sure that the less-than-warm welcome she had received had left her shaken and played a role too.

‘I could bring something to her.’ Catalina’s offer gets surprised looks and raised eyebrows.

‘You’re going to apologise? Is the end of the world coming?’

Catalina glares at Anne.

‘Could be a nice way to introduce yourself.’ Anna can’t help herself, even if it lands her at the end of the first queen’s glower.

If Catalina hears Anne’s muttered comment of how she never thought she’d seen the day the great Catherine of Aragon would bring food to someone else, she chooses to ignore it, focusing on keeping the tray steady while climbing the stairs.

She stands in front of the door. Closed door. Which brings up a dilemma. Should she put down the tray – and risk a spilling disaster – to knock or should she go for the less refined route of giving a couple of kicks to the door to announce her presence?

She decides to first try calling out. ‘Can I come in?’

Luckily, Katherine opens the door herself instead of just calling her in, which would have presented the same problem as knocking due to her lack of free hands.

Catalina puts down the tray on the empty desk, then turns to close the door, missing the surprised look on Katherine’s face.

‘You weren’t there this morning.’

‘Did you need me?’

‘No.’ She stops her before she can start to fret.

Katherine sits on the bed. ‘I thought you wouldn’t want me there. I know you can’t stand the sight of me,’ she looks down at her hands, clasped in her lap, ‘and that even if last night you had a…vulnerable moment, you wouldn’t want me there in the morning.’

‘What? No! Why would you think so?’ Catalina sounds outraged at the suggestion.

‘You went out of your way to avoid me. Anna said that you did the same when she arrived, but you had talked to her before, at least. You just took a look at me and- I understand, of course-’

‘No, you don’t.’ Catalina interrupts her. ‘It’s true. Looking at you it’s…difficult. I can hardly bear it.’ She admits. ‘Do you know why?’

Katherine doesn’t say anything, still refusing to look at her. She has a good idea why. She actually has a list of reasons why. She has spent hours compiling it in her head since the moment Catalina had turned around at the mere sight of her.

‘Because all I can think is how much I failed you.’

‘You didn’t!’ the denial is vehement.

‘How can you say that? How can you even look at me knowing that what happened it’s my fault?!’ Catalina turns away in shame.

‘You fault?!? You died!’ Katherine takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. ‘I apologise. I didn’t mean to scream. Can you please sit down?’

Katherine heaves a weary sigh as Catalina sits on the chair rather than next to her on the bed. She stands up and crouches down by the chair. ‘You died. And correct me if I’m wrong, it’s not that you wanted to. Or that you had any say in the matter. A very wise queen used to tell me that one should never take responsibility for things outside their control.’

Catalina finally raises her head and looks at the girl at her feet. ‘I look at you and…I looked at you curtsying and I saw the 8-year-old who stumbled curtsying and then got worried because she had been told I wasn’t the queen anymore, was that still the appropriate way to greet me? I looked at you last night by my bed and saw the 13-year-old holding my hand during my last days, trying to make me comfortable, comforting an old, scared woman despite being terrified herself. I look at you now and I see the girl sitting at my feet asking me to braid her hair while she learns Spanish.’ She cups Katherine’s cheek, wiping away her tears, while her own flow freely. ‘Since I learned that he had married you, I can’t stop thinking that I started it all. What if I had fought him more? Or less? What if I-’

‘Don’t torture yourself like this.’ Katherine grabs her hands. ‘I won’t lie and say that I never thought about how my life would have been if you hadn’t died when you did.’ She stops. It dawns on her that Catalina doesn’t seem to know that her dying meant she had been sent to live at her step-grandmother’s house where she met Mannox and all her problems began. If she is already torn apart by her death having somehow led to her marriage with Henry and then her execution, she isn’t going to add to her guilt, no matter how unwarranted it is. She knows she wouldn’t see it that way. ‘But I never blamed you. Because it was not your fault.’

The draining conversation comes to an end, but Katherine knows that it’s going to take more than that to convince Catalina.

In fact, the nightmares keep happening. And Catalina keeps waking up to Katherine keeping vigil by her bed, glass full of water and damp washcloth on the nightstand. They have the routine down to a science. Catalina sits up, drinks some water, wipes away night sweats, then scoots over, Katherine climbs in and then they try to go back to sleep.

‘How do you always know?’ Catalina asks one night as they are lying in bed, waiting for sleep to claim them.

‘It’s my job to know when you need me.’

‘No, it’s not. Not anymore.’

‘You know that it was more than a job to me, right?’ Katherine’s voice carries an undertone of concern as well as distress.

‘I know.’

And she does. And she did at the time too. She has no doubt that appointing her to her service was meant to be a slight. Stripped of her title, forbidden to even communicate with her closest affects, and forced to rely as her closest attendant on an 8-year-old. From what she understood from Katherine, her father had many children and few assets and had jumped at the chance of having his daughter employed and out of the way, even if in such a disgraceful position. Catalina holds no misconceptions that it could have been an even slightly coveted position. That’s why she had quickly waived off Katherine’s apologies for having kept her period at her service a secret. It probably would not have pleased Henry, had he known. Especially how they had quickly taken a shine to each other. It also answered her doubt about whether Henry had known that the help he had so graciously allowed her to have was the first cousin of the woman who had replaced her in his bed and on the throne. She had wondered at the time, not doubting he would do it out of spite, to have her living with a constant reminder of what she lost...but then, again, having a close family member, no matter how impoverished, at her service would have been seen as disrespectful towards the new queen, so it made sense that he hadn’t been aware.

‘I know.’ She repeats. ‘We used to sleep in the same room so obviously you would hear my every movement…’ she tries again.

‘I’m a light sleeper. Doesn’t take much to wake me up.’

Sleeping in such close quarters with people she barely knows has her constantly on edge. Every little noise at night has her tensing. It’s easy to hear Catalina’s distress as soon as it starts when you’re attuned to every sound that shouldn’t be there. And taking care of her means she doesn’t spend the night waking up at every noise, brain racing: are those steps? Is someone coming to her room? Katherine knows the other women would never hurt her…but try telling that to her subconscious.

_______________________

A/N: While I understand some Spanish it’s mostly because of 1) similarities with Italian 2) tv-shows (the last being actually Mexican and yes, I know, there are differences between Latin American Spanish and Spain Spanish). I'm relying on this knowledge and Google so feel free to correct any mistake.

#catherine and katherine #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six fic #soft catherine of aragon #six writing #six the musical fic #six katherine howard #six catherine of aragon #six fanfiction #six fanfic #mywork #my ideas #my six posts #six the musical fanfic #my posts #fic: It’s All Coming Back to Me Now

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fgffbfghtr · 3 years

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. Above all she’s jealous of me. A goal was called on the ice, but after video review

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eliza-makepeace · 4 years

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Murtagh pt.3

Thorn was alone this time. It was hard for him to not have Murtagh around, even if they were always connected with each other. It was funny, he supposed, knowing that Murtagh always felt calm when he was nearby, when Thorn knew he himself only felt truly comfortable when his Rider was with him. He knew how strange this symbiotic relationship must look from the outside, but as time went by they became even more reliant on each other than they had been before.

The dragon knew Murtagh wasn’t helpless. He had survived such horrible and complicated situations, way before he had even hatched, so it wasn’t as if Murtagh couldn’t do without him. Perhaps his Rider didn’t need him to keep him safe, physically speaking, but he knew he had become indispensable for Murtagh from the moment their eyes had locked with each other, and from the moment that silver scar had appeared in Murtagh’s palm. And Murtagh had become Thorn’s vital force. He was sometimes hard, and bitter, but Thorn understood those characteristics were learnt, and not something Murtagh was intrinsically. They were the product of what his life circumstances had forced him to become, of a life being unfairly treated, betrayed, and taken advantage of. And yet, despite that, Thorn could see a brighter light in his human Rider than in plenty other people with lesser hardships.

Most of the times, however, Murtagh showed himself to be what he truly was: a kind man who went out of his way to help people. Every time Murtagh went into a hate spiral, Thorn made it his duty to remind him of that fact, and Murtagh shrugged it off with an “anybody would do the same”. It angered Thorn. How could he say something like that, knowing as well as he did that it was entirely untrue? Specially, since his only reason to say it was to discredit himself. Thorn understood these tendencies, for he had them almost the same. He was born to immediately become a pawn in somebody else’s control, seeing the one person he loved being hurt because of standing for his beliefs, and then, see him stripped of his agency, possibility of choice, and his most intimate memories lay for the egg breaker to see and use for his own benefit, just to stop Thorn from getting hurt. Thorn had always known Murtagh’s selflessness, but it was taking Murtagh himself a longer time to own up to having that quality.

So Murtagh had gone to the closest town, and Thorn was afraid. Afraid of what? Perhaps of somebody recognizing him, and him getting into trouble. Perhaps of how Murtagh for the most part became melancholy when coming back from these trips, getting to see how common people lived their lives, so different to his own. Either way, Thorn was left uneasy every time he saw the dark cloaked figure of his Rider disappear between the trees. And with every passing second, he grew even more restless.

His red eyes caught Murtagh’s unmistakable silhouette heading back to their camp, and a guttural sound came from his throat, urging his partner to inform him of whatever had happened.

Murtagh sighed and sat next to him. He looked alright, as far as Thorn could see, so things hadn’t gone as badly as other times. “Town was busy,” he mused, softly. Thorn knew what that meant. Busy meant markets, markets meant news. And news… well, news for the most part weren’t kind to the son of Morzan.

What did you hear? he asked, knowing it was better off for Murtagh to vocalize his frustration and disappointment than keep it to himself.

“Nothing nice”, he responded. “Nothing untrue.” He opened a bag he’d carried with him and took out some ink and paper. “Got what I wanted, though”.

Thorn snarled, and made a strong move of his scaled head. I don’t like it when you change subject, you know that.

“I didn’t”, Murtagh replied, slightly set aback by Thorn’s sudden aggressiveness. “I’d just rather not dwell on how people hate me. Instead of seeing this trip as lemon juice dropped on a wound, I’d rather see it as a trip that got me some nice sheets of paper and ink.”

I would have no problem with it, if only it were true. But you do dwell on it.

Murtagh took a deep breath. Seemed like Thorn wouldn’t let it slide. “It hurts. How couldn’t it?” He stood up, and started pacing, like a trapped lion in a cage. “I wish… I wish I didn’t give a shit about what random peasants think of me, but I do. I do care. All my life… All of it, I’ve wanted to fit in, to be accepted, and now it seems like that is more far away than ever before.”

It is not your fault.

“Who cares about that?” Murtagh asked, raising an eyebrow, and staring right into Thorn’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is, as long as people have someone to put the blame entirely on. Galbatorix doesn’t do the job. It’s only relatively satisfactory to blame someone who’s dead. But they aren’t wrong. Despite everything, I really was his right-handed man.”

You were what he made of you. Like your mother was for Morzan.

Murtagh huffed, rolling his eyes in exasperation, as if they’d already had a conversation like that before, even though they never had. “I cannot believe you’re comparing the two of us”.

Why not? You are more alike than you think. She’s as misunderstood as you are. Who knows who she truly was? There are rumors about her, the same as there are about you. Despite what you may say, you know at least half of what they say of you is not true. Who’s to say what we see and know isn’t just a small percentage of who she really was?

The Wanderer shrugged, feeling the conversation to be ridiculous and nonsensical. “So, what? Nobody cares. For all they know, she was Morzan’s Black Hand, and that is the way she will go down in history. Even if she clearly did plenty more.” He shook his head, and bit his lip. “History is not written fairly, Thorn. History has always meant taking the truth and adapting it to your narrative, no matter who you step on.”

History can be rewritten. The right people can be honored, and the villains properly vilified.

“I don’t want to be honored.” He said, almost a whisper, more to himself than to Thorn. “I just want to feel like… like someday, I will be in a place I can call my home, surrounded by people who care for me. For Murtagh. Just Murtagh. Not the son of Morzan, not the Wanderer, not Tornac of the Road. I don’t want to spend the rest of my theoretically immortal life pretending to be somebody else.”

You know you have a home. Eragon told you himself. You have a place in Carvahall, which is your inheritance just as much as Za’roc was. You have family there, your cousin Roran.

“Please, Thorn. Eragon was just being kind. Carvahall could never be my home. Those people wouldn’t accept me, and Roran less than anybody, no matter how related we may be. I don’t even know him.” He covered his face with his hands, his long fingers pressed against his temple. “I wouldn’t blame them. They do have reasons to hate me.”

I am sure they would end to understand. They know how hard wars are, they know how tricky being thrust upon one is, and hopefully they’ll have learnt that sides aren’t as black and white as they seem.

“I feel you are too hopeful, my love,” Murtagh said. He didn’t say it mockingly, but with admiration. Thorn had an incredible quality, which was being able to see things brighter than they were, him included. Murtagh was different. He knew the monsters were there no matter where he looked, and it took a longer time than sometimes it was worth it to prove to him that what seemed like a good person really was one. So, he understood the general contempt for him more than he would like to admit. If he hadn’t been himself and had been some farmer who’d seen the fearing sight of the Red Rider over his head, he would have wished him dead.

“Sometimes I envy them,” he admitted, lowering his head, as if owning up to it made him feel embarrassed. “I envy that they can have easy lives, that they have a house, parents, siblings, a life with them, friends they’ve seen since they were born and now, as grown men, get to meet up at the usual inn and talk about their wives and harvest and kids.”

I don’t think the life of a farmer is the life for you.

Murtagh couldn’t help but smile at that. “I don’t either. But sometimes I wish it were.”

You have a chance to do something meaningful, Murtagh. These people do not. You are educated, intelligent, prepared, and fit to help change the course of the world. You cannot hide away forever, and you know it. Once you heal enough, you will have a choice.

“I’m afraid.”

I know you are. That’s why you should do it.

“You mean, teach them? The new Riders?” He frowned his eyebrow, deep in thought. “I don’t think I would do such a good job. Besides, what kind of parents would accept the son of Morzan to teach their children?”

You wouldn’t be Morzan’s son. You’d be Eragon’s brother and one of the saviors of Alagaësia. Anyone would love their children to be taught by you.

“Well… Even if it worked like that, and it doesn’t, I wouldn’t be half as good a teacher as Tornac was. I wouldn’t know how to do with those children what he did with me.”

Yes, you would. In fact, you already have done something of the like.

“You can’t possibly mean Essie. I was just trying to be nice, and help her feel less alone.”

That is exactly what a good teacher should do. It’s not just about knowledge, it’s about how you see them, and treat them. You made Essie feel validated, and appreciated. And you would do the same for your students, if you had the guts to give yourself a chance.

Murtagh gave it a moment’s thought. He wouldn’t deny he found it appealing, to an extent. Essie did seem to have liked him enough. But the problem was she’d seen him as Tornac. She hadn’t been judgemental because she had thought there was no reason to be judgemental. But if he showed up as Murtagh? Things should be very different for that to happen. In truth, for the first time in a long time he was slightly excited about what the future held.

#murtagh morzansson #murtagh #murtagh x thorn #murtagh tornacsson #my fics

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arofili · 4 years

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Cause & Consequence (ch5 alt draft)

Since some people expressed interest, here you go! @himrings :)

This is from the POV of Ryndil, my Haleth/Caranthir baby, and takes place directly after the Nirnaeth after the Feanorians fled to Caranthir’s stronghold in Amon Ereb. I intended it to be part of Cause and Consequence ch5, but having reread it now after I’ve written ch1 of that fic, I know I’ll have to rewrite most of it to fit the Caranthir characterization as well as the general tone. This confrontation will happen, and there are parts of it I’ll probably keep, but overall I’m gonna have to change most of it.

Still, I had a lot of fun with the arguing Feanorians, especially Maedhros who is less “in denial about Fingon’s death and crumbling entirely as a person” and more “completely Does Not Care about anything now that Fingon is dead, would be happy to watch the world burn because Nothing Matters, but still has his wits about him.” and I really let myself go off with my headcanons! I’ll have a note at the bottom explaining some of them :)

“Who are you?” demanded Celegorm.

Rýndil glared up at him, undaunted by his blood-stained figure and the astonished looks of his brothers.

“I am Rýndil,” they proclaimed. “Rýndil of Brethil.”

“Didn’t I see you in the fighting?” one of the twins asked suspiciously. “You aren’t one of the Accursed’s people, are you?”

“I’m from Brethil,” they said, affronted. “I’m one of the Haladin!”

“Regardless, this is no place for mortals,” Maglor said flatly. “You do know who we are, don’t you, Rýndil of Brethil?”

A shiver ran down their spine. Seven tall elf-lords, gaunt and scarred and bloody in the aftermath of a disastrous battle. Maedhros, the eldest, was a shell of the glorious figure he’d been on the battlefield; they weren’t sure if he was even awake, his eyes were so glassy and unfocused. Grief, they supposed. They’d heard the rumors about him and the High King, after all.

Maglor, leading in his place, trembling despite the firmness in his golden voice. Celegorm, bitter and angry and mean despite his fair features. Curufin, his dark shadow, flint in his eyes and venom on his tongue. Amrod and Amras, mirroring each other in their distrustful glares. And yet despite the blood and dirt and pain, a light shone from each of them. These were men to be feared, men to be worshipped.

And then there was him. Caranthir the Dark. Rýndil’s father, the blood flowing through their veins, the reason they were here in the first place. Gaunt and red-faced, the weary host of his defeated brothers, he had scarcely stopped moving about and making room for them since they arrived.

As much as Rýndil was of the Haladin, as much as they were the child of Haleth, they were bound to this family and people also.

Rýndil stuck their chin out and glared directly at the unobservant Caranthir. “I know who you are,” they said evenly. “You are the Fëanorians. Well, so am I.”

There was a horrid pause, in which Rýndil wasn’t sure if they were going to be sliced open from gut to throat or welcomed with open arms. Even those that hadn’t been staring at them before turned to look at them with open mouths.

“They’re not mine,” said a wry voice at last. Everyone turned to stare at Maedhros, speaking his first words since their arrival.

“What?” he said. “Fingon is—he’s dead. No point in hiding it any more. Yes, I was sleeping with him. We were in love. You’re all shocked, I know—yes, Curvo, I was being sarcastic, don’t even start, I’m well aware that we were the worst-kept secret in Beleriand.”

“More like all of Arda,” muttered Maglor.

Maedhros ignored him. “My lover is dead,” he said, a deep and righteous grief rumbling in his chest. “And so. This bastard child. Is. Not. Mine.”

Bastard! Rýndil recoiled. They knew it was true, knew that the Fëanorians could see the truth of their relation but also the truth of its illegitimacy in the way that elves had. The way Rýndil only partially understood, like they only partially understood everything about who they were.

No one else spoke. Maedhros stuck his feet up on the table, crossing his arms. “I’m done with dancing around unfortunate subjects,” he said. “Whoever of you bed some mortal woman, fess up. I faced my scandal, time for you all to face yours.”

Still no one moved, until Maglor blurted out, “I know you’re looking to me, Nelyo, but Arasdil’s children had other fathers.”

“What?” Curufin yelped. “You slept with a mortal? And you mocked me for being faithless to Quilla with Finrod! What would Ezellë think of this, at least I didn’t stoop that low—”

“This is rich,” Maedhros drawled, “coming from the person who would never shut up about me being a cousin-fucker.”

“Look, Finrod was the whore, look at him, he had Edrahil and Bëor and at least two of those dwarves, and besides he was already fucking Turgon well before me—”

“I’m asexual,” Amrod said, raising his hands and stepping backward. “It wasn’t me.”

“And unlike some of you, I remember my marriage vows,” Amras snapped. “Thennes may have died in the Bragollach, but if we get out of this blasted Oath and reunite in Aman I’ll be doing it on a clean conscience!”

“Tyelko?” Maglor demanded.

“Hell if I know,” Celegorm growled. “I’m not the type to get tied down—”

“Valar damn it, Tyelko, how many times have we told you—”

Rýndil watched, wide-eyed, as the Fëanorians fell apart into bickering about their various sexual exploits, bringing up long-buried grievances while Maedhros watched with a morbid amusement. Morbid, that was the right word for him; just looking at him unsettled them.

Throughout all this, Caranthir stayed silent in the shadows of his own home, his face growing more and more red. Rýndil looked at him, crossing their arms. They weren’t going to say anything—this was his fault.

“I think I’d know if they were my kid, though,” Celegorm argued. “Has Tyelpë been sleeping around?”

“How the fuck should I know?!” Curufin snarled. “Ever since you fucked up our perfectly good plan with the witch of Doriath I haven’t seen hide nor hair of my unfortunate whelp!”

“I fucked it up?” Celegorm shouted. “Really now?! You sending your boyfriend off to his death had nothing to do with that?”

“It was me,” Caranthir said quietly. The others didn’t seem to hear him at first, though Rýndil saw Maedhros’ eyebrows shoot upward at the confession. “I’m their father.”

Slowly, the Fëanorians fell silent, looking to their middlest brother in astonishment.

“Moryo!” Maglor groaned. “Of all of us, only Ambarussa were less likely!”

“And me, don’t kid yourselves,” Maedhros interrupted. “I had my money on one of the ‘Three Cs’ as I hear they’re calling you all in Dor-lómin. Though I doubt Dor-lómin will be around for much longer.”

“Don’t group me in with those idiots,” Caranthir said scornfully. “Yes, I fathered the brat.”

“I’m not a fucking brat,” Rýndil growled. “And I may be a bastard, but that’s to your shame, not mine, Father. My mother’s people treat me very well.”

“Who is the mother?” Amras asked. “I never pinned you for the romantic type, Moryo.”

“Haleth wasn’t, either,” Caranthir said glumly. “She...conquered me, I suppose. I didn’t even realize that she got a child out of the exchange until I met Rýndil several years later. And frankly, they’re so unimpressive, even for a peredhel, that I’d forgotten about them until—”

Rýndil sprang across the room and bitch-slapped Caranthir to the ground. “Fuck off,” they spat, hitting him where it hurt. “My mother was right to send you away when she did. You’re worthless, all of you Noldor princes, bringing only ruin to this land and blaming it on everyone but yourselves. Look at who brought Beleriand to ashes in this last battle—it wasn’t the Sindar, nor the Edain! It was you lot and your double-crossing friends! And maybe I’m an unanticipated, unimpressive peredhel, but everything I can claim is thanks to Haleth, not you. I may be a Fëanorian, but I’m worth seven of you.” They curled their lip. “And for the record, uncles, I think Celebrimbor had the right idea.”

They gave the stunned Caranthir one more knee to the groin and stormed out of the room. “Thanks for giving me a place to spend the night,” they called as they left, “and for letting me get that off my chest.”

“I like them,” Maedhros observed sardonically once Rýndil had rounded the corner. They hung by the doorway, catching their breath and trying to regain their composure. “They’re not afraid to tell you all the truth.”

“I’ll remind you who led this Union of peoples that failed so disastrously,” Caranthir hissed, “and if tonight has proved anything, it’s that Ambarussa have the right way of looking at things.”

Rýndil didn’t know if they would go that far, but they smiled grimly. So much for finding a place with their father’s people—but at least this venture hadn’t been uneventful.

A/N: So really this turned out to be more of a sequel to “Unanticipated” than part of C&C - my Halenthir characterization there is fairly antagonistic and playful, but after thinking about it I don’t think Caranthir is actually...ashamed of Ryndil, or particularly regretful of their existence, he just...doesn’t know what to do with/about them. So I’ll tone down his disdain for the actual fic, because I don’t think this is really representative of how he feels anymore.

A lot of my headcanons for the Feanorians and their relationships showed up here! I went into more detail about some of that in my longfic “ATATYA.” That fic, however, is not set in the same universe as this one; Ryndil is discussed in Moryo’s chapters of “ATATYA” but he didn’t actually know they existed until after his rebirth in that story, where he does know here.

There are references to Quilla and Ezelle; these are my OCs for Curufin and Maglor’s wives, respectively.

I mentioned Amras’ wife Thennes in this fic - she’s another character discussed in “ATATYA,” but her fate is different here than in that fic. Here, she dies in the Dagor Bragollach instead of absconding with Elured and Elurin after the Second Kinslaying. I have some headcanons about her relationship with the Ambarussa and how that plays out in both fics; one of these days I’ll get around to writing them.

Someone else I mentioned was Arasdil, a mortal lover of Maglor’s. That relationship was something I was workshopping around the time of writing “ATATYA,” but I ultimately ended up going with a different version of his life in my fic “Sins and Sorrows,” which is set in the same verse. I still think she existed, but they weren’t married like I originally envisioned. Basically, Arasdil was a woman of the house of Beor that Maglor rescued from an abusive marriage and had a relationship with. His comment about her children having “other fathers” is just that - he slept with her, but she never had his child. This is an affair that Maedhros knew about, but the rest of his brothers didn’t until this moment.

There’s a lot of swearing here that I’ll probably end up toning down, and I don’t think I’ll be as explicit with Amrod’s line about him being asexual, though that’ll still be there in spirit. And by the end, with Ryndil “bitch-slapping” their father and just Going Off at him and his brothers - I don’t think that would fly in actuality, but it was too fun to resist, tbh.

Also, the main thing this fic is missing is Ryndil’s dog!! They always have a dog with them - though perhaps Tallagar also died in the Nirnaeth.... :(

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this snippet, and if you haven’t checked out the actual fic, you should definitely do that!! :)

#silmarillion #caranthir #feanorians #halenthir #silm fic #oc ryndil #cause and consequence #unanticipated #oc thennes #oc arasdil #atatya #sins and sorrows #this is not FR verse tho #my fic #my writing #tefain nin #himrings

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lucy-pepperwood · 4 years

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Game Of Thrones

A Song of Ice and Fire

Original Character

Lady Tully

The Third Daughter of Lord Hoster Tully and Lady Minisa Whent.

Born 268, Lady Tully is two years younger than her sister Lysa and 4 years younger than her elder sister Catelyn. Lady Tully is 6 years older than her brother Edmure.

Possible Names for Lady Tully

Iliza ( pronounced like Eliza)

Jocelyn

Marjorie

Annelyse ( pronounced like Annielise)

Bethany

Milynda ( pronounced Milinda )

( Names should not start with C, L, or E )

Lady Tully inherited the blonde locks of her grandmother, The Lady Rosamund Whent.

As she grows up, Lady Tully proves to be a sweet and well-mannered child. She loves her family dearly and always thought to please them. Never disobeying her parents and doing as her elder sisters asked. Whenever her family was feeling down, or they were ill, Lady Tully would make them gifts.

Lady Tully is a gifted wood carver and floral arrangement. Lady Tully also possesses skill in singing and high harp ( the kind of harp you cannot pick up and move).

As she grows up, Lady Tully becomes very protective of her elder sister Lysa. She and her sister Catelyn worry for her because she is remarkably absent-minded.

Once her sister Lysa becomes pregnant with Petry Bealish's child, Lady Tully defends her sister. She argues with their father to have Lysa and Petry married, as it is what Lysa wants. Even though her father becomes enraged and beats them both, Lady Tully stands strong.

Lady Tully argues that he should take up the Arryn betrothal because it is her duty to her family. She also claims that she is also blonde, a trait of the Arryn family.

All three Tully sisters are married on the same night. Lady Catelyn to Eddard Stark, Lady Lysa to Lord Petyr Bealish, and Lady Tully to Lord Jon Arryn.

Lord Bealish is shipped off the fingures, to "fortify" and "defend" them. Once all five ( which have been granted to him) are adequately situated, Lady Lysa can come to join him.

It appears as though both Lady Catelyn and Lysa become pregnant after their wedding night, while Lady Tully does not.

Lady Tully's lack of child becomes a concern because Jon Arryn might die in the war.

After the war is one, Lady Tully is immediately summoned to Kingslanding. Lord Hoster Tully send his daughter with 1,000 guards and 500 household members.

As the highest-ranking lady within the court, Lady Tully is in charge of the running of the Keep. She, as directed by her husband, begins trying to make the Keep as loyal as possible to the new King.

Lady Tully has all Targeryn artifacts stored; all Targaryen loyalists dismissed and banished from the capital. She has Baratheon men come and bring their workers and symbols to fill the Keep.

Lady Tully rounds up the Dornish servants and workers and sends them with all of Princess Elia's items back to Dorne. Her Crown, jewels, dresses, letters, and personal artifacts. This does help relations with the Crown and the Dornish.

But it is replacing the servants that is Lady Tully's greatest achievement. For every Targeyn or Dornish servant dismissed, there are a Stormlander, Valeman, or Riverland men and women ready to fill their spot.

By the time Lyanna Stark is declared dead, and King Robert has married Cersei Lannister, Lady Tully has filled every spot. There is no room for golden-haired spies to be put in place.

One month before Cersei Lannister marries King Robert, Lady Tully falls pregnant.

Lady Tully miscarries in the fourth month.

Despite this, Lady Tully keeps her excellent relationship with her husband. She and Jon dine together in the evenings and often take lunches together with King Robert.

Lady Tully and King Robert develope a good relationship. He treats her, kindly. He declares he will be the best Uncle to her children. King Robert summons his cousin, Annabeth Eastermont, to court to serve as Lady Tullys Compain and lady and waiting.

After Queen Cersei moves into the Keep, she and Lady Tully do not become friends. They are not enemies but are simply too different to ever be able to become friends.

Where Lady Tully is religious and pays weekly homage to the 7. Queen Cersei is disinterested in religion. Where Queen Cersei is cunning and opportunistic. Lady Tully is simple and has little ambition. They have a cordial relation, as befitting the queen and the wife of the hand of the King.

The two women take lunch together at the end of every week. To discuss court going on, the kitchen and servants and future play dates for their children.

Once both women do have children, they become closer, often arranging playdates together and discussion which children to summon to court to become companions to their children.

Because of Lady Tully's presence in King Roberts and Queen Cersei's relationship, they are more cordial than in canon. It goes like this.

Queen Cersei will talk of her troubles to Lady Tully, Lady Tullys tells her lord husband, and Jon Arryn lambasts King Robert, and the relationship improves.

Lady Tully miscarries her second baby before she even realizes she is pregnant.

She successfully carries her third child to term.

Heir Charles Arryn is born two months before Queen Cersei gives birth to her first child. ( Born 286 )

Queen Cersei gives birth to Prince Steffon Baratheon ( who lives instead of being born still )

Lady Tully will miscarry three more times before giving birth to her next child.

Lord Arryn has to defend his wife to the small council.

"Before Lady Tully, I had two wives, both died childlessly. The Tully sisters have both given birth with no troubles, Even the Birth of Charles was easy on Lady Tully. It is time to admit that the problem may be with me and not my wife."

Regardless, Lady Tully goes on to give birth to a second healthy child. During this pregnancy, Lady Tully spends the entire time on bed rest.

Lady Tully gives birth in the last month of 288 to Lord Phillip Arryn.

At this time, Lady Tully's sisters both have had multiple children. Lady Catelyn has given birth to Heir Robb Stark, Lord Hoster, and Lady Sansa. Her sister Lady Lysa has given birth to Lady Caitlyn and Emilee Bealish.

Lady Sansa and Lady Emilee are both summoned to court to act as companions.

Also, in 288, Queen Cersei gives birth to golden-haired green-eyed twins. Prince Daemon and Princess Joanna Baratheon.

In the year 289, Queen Cersei gives birth to blonde hair green eyed Prince Joffrey Baratheon. In 290, queen Cersei gives birth to her last set of children. Black hair blue eyed triplets. Prince Edwin and Princesses Mrycella and Jocelyn.

In the year 288, Lady Tully suffers two miscarriages. In the first month of 289, Lady Tully successfully gives birth to Lady Alyssa Arryn. A little over 9 months later, Lady Tully gives birth to a second daughter Lady Elizabeth Arryn. Then in the year, 291 Lady Arryn gives birth to her final child Lady Ophelia Arryn.

All of Lady Tully and Lord Arryns children were born pale blonde of hair and blue of eye.

In the Red Keep, the children all play together and have good relations with each other. Queen Cersei had summoned her nephew Martin Lannister and Willam Marbrand to the capital to act as a company for her sons.

Lady Tully summons Lady Sansa, Lady Emilee, and Lady Melissa Blackwood to come and serve as handmaids and friends for her and Queen Cersei's daughters. Also summoned is Yara Grayjoy after the rebellion. She is as much a hostage as her brother Theon.

Eventually, both her sons leave the Keep to Foster in the Vale. Charles foster with Lord Yonce, and Philip with Lord Redford, where he meets Domerick Bolten. Lady Tully's daughters are betrothed and go on to have children of their own. They have none of the difficulties their mother had.

Prince Steffon never fosters, but the King takes in many. Prince Joffery, Deamon, and Edwin all foster.

Lady Alyssa and Princess Joanna are both betrothed to the Princes of Dorne, in hopes of smoothing relations.

Lady Elizabeth is pledged to prince Deamon, and as a gift, King Robert gives them Stormsend.

Lady Ophelia is pledged to a house in the Vale like both her brothers, This is to soothe the bannerman and re-cement their loyalty.

Prince Steffon is betrothed to Lady Sansa Stark

Prince Deamon to Lady Elizabeth Arryn and declared Stormsend Heir

Prince Joffery to Janei Lannister and taken on as Tywins Heir

Prince Edwin is not pledged to marry as of yet, he is set to be given a lordship, but it is still in discussion.

Lady Tully creates a ripple effect on the story, In her life, King Robert loves all his children and has a hand in raising them. Queen Ceresi gives the realm liegitment heirs. Her sister, Lysa, is where she wanted to be, although ( this creates different problems). The kingdom is stable. Under King Roberts Rule, marriage between cousins falls out of fashion. Petyr Bealish is never named Master of Coin, but the Westeros kingdom still falls into debt. There is no war of 5 kings, but the Aegon and Daenerys Targaryen still pose a threat, as do the white walkers beyond the wall.

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disregardcanon · 5 years

Text

important modern westeros headcanons concerning the extended stark clan for my own modern au

important details to know

married couples: brandon and barbrey, ned and cat (duh), rickard and lyarra, hoster and minisa, brynden and unspecified beautiful man, and edmure and roslin

the starks, as we know them, are not The Starks Of Winterfell, they’re like their sixth cousins who live in winterfell the town (not the castle). they still have some runoff money from being related to them but they’re not the absurdly old money that The Starks Of Winterfell TM are. rickard and lyarra and then brandon and barbrey are at the cusp of between upper and upper middle class and then ned, lya, and benjen who didn’t go into the family business are towards the bottom of upper middle.

rickard stark is a shrewd and calculating businessman. he doesn’t ever coast through deals on the stark name, but he doesn’t like. avoid using it either. out of all his children, legal or good, he gets along the best with barbrey, brandon’s wife. rickard sent all of his children to a upper crust southron boarding school over the school years and then the “summer” (i don’t know how westerosi school years would work yet okay but imagine an equivalent of an american summer vacation) he sends brandon to stay with some friends in barrowtown, where he ended up falling in love with barbrey ryswell. he dies around the same time that bran is born of cancer.

lyarra stark, nee flint, is dedicated. she’s the one who kept up her husband’s squeaky clean public face, and she was always doing double time for brandon. when lyanna ran off with rhaegar and then came back with a baby to live with ned and cat for a few years, she was doing triple time. lyarra has a sharp wit and is very ambitious. she thinks that all of her children but brandon made a mistake when they chose not to go into the family business and she doesn’t let any of them forget it. she loves her grandchildren, even though she dislikes the circumstances of jon’s birth and thinks that ned might not have gone into police work if he didn’t marry a woman who went into law.

brandon and barbrey stark are the “someone will die.” “of fun!” couple. brandon is big, boisterous, and friendly and barbrey is hilarious, if you have a cruel and biting sense of humor. barbrey is devoted and loving, if you’re her family, and she’s disapproving of anyone who hasn’t earned her love. she and brandon don’t have children because brandon travels so much for work and barbrey doesn’t want them, but they love on ned and lyanna’s enough you’d think they were their own. brandon takes over the company when rickard dies and babrey is a higher up in her own father’s. she and roose bolton are frequent business partners.

in less fun news, barbrey’s sister, bethany, was married to roose bolton. barbrey and roose remain good friends until she attends the funeral of the man’s other son after he was killed resisting arrest for serial killing, torture, lots of not great ramsayish things because barbrey’s like “well roose is kinda a dick but it’s not like he wanted the kid to be like that. gotta go support the guy so he feels less bad” and gets a really bad vibe about the whole deal. she cuts off contact after that.

when lyanna stark was young, her mother and father were always talking about different businessmen she could marry and how she could come north and take over her portion of the family business, and lyanna felt suffocated. instead of coming back up to winterfell after her high school graduation, she runs off with her married poetry teacher, rhaegar viserion. it’s about a two year crazy ride of a romance, and lyanna ends up with a baby and the realization that rhaegar is terrible for her. she moves back up north to winterfell with ned, who was in the midst of a falling out with his parents over his choice to forego college and go into police work and his choice to marry so young, catelyn, and their young son robb. lyanna lived with ned for about four years (seeing sansa’s birth) before she died of cancer. this results in a few year long custody battle with jon’s father to keep him in winterfell. the custody arrangement ends up with jon spending major holidays of the seven and summer vacations with rhaegar and his siblings but all the rest of the year with ned and cat.

benjen made his way north to work for an expedition company north of the remains of the wall. he has not married and does not plan to. he dated a few women back in college, but it wasn’t really his thing. he tried dating a few men later on, but it wasn’t his thing either. benjen’s just kind of a lone wolf. he’ll spend holidays down in winterfell, and sometimes ned and cat spend the children up for a week or so at a time for a little break and because benjen loves his niblings

the tullys! depending on the way that i’m feeling on a given day they might be named tully and just be so distantly related to the tullys of riverrun that they can’t even prove a connection, “blackfish” as the children of a riverlands knight who admired brynden tully, or just “fish” because that’s a real last name and the idea of it makes me giggle. the family grew up in maidenpool.

hoster is a former physician well respected in the communtiy. he and his wife, a surgeon, made quite a nice living for themselves, and now hoster is in hospital administration, running the one at the university of maidenpool, one of the most respected institutions in the country.

minisa whent met hoster at the beginning of med school and the two have been together ever since. becoming a surgeon was difficult for minisa because of all of the obstacles that were against her, but she never let any of it stop her. she was said to have the “steadiest hands in the riverlands” and her children remember her for competent as a professional as well as for being kind and compassionate as a mother. minisa died in a car accident when catelyn was fifteen, and hoster was never the same since.

brynden was a college athlete, a pro athlete, and then a sports announcer. when catelyn was seventeen, he and his boyfriend were outed to the world and he became one of the most prominent gay celebrities, paving the way for more openly gay men in sports. he was always exceptionally close to his niblings, and once they had children, he doted on them just the same.

lysa was always a little bit unstable. she spent much of her life pining after petyr baelish, their neighbor across the street who was always in love with cat but never looked her way once. when she tried to talk to him about her affections, he laughed in her face the same way that cat had to him. when petyr moved away to king’s landing for college, he never came back and never spoke to her again, though catelyn apparently heard from him lots.

she flitted from interest to interest, always trying to find something that she was better at than catelyn. she took up a job at an after school program for primarily underprivileged kids, and while she wasn’t good at working with groups, she found that she was very good at making individual members feel loved and confident in ways that she never had as a child. she decided to start up her own home day care with high rates that only let in a small amount of kids, so that they could have more personalized attention.

she never had any luck with romantic relationships, but after deciding that she wanted a child of her own, she went through the insemination process and had robin. unlike canon robin, this robin almost never lacked peers to interact with between his mom’s daycare kids, his winterfell cousins and his maidenpool cousins, he never lacked for friends. and between his grandparents, his cousins, and his aunts and uncles, robin ever lacked for family or love.

edmure and roslin met at college. while hoster had been trying to pressure edmure into medical school, he met roslin in his intro to psychology classes and fell in love with the subject as he fell in love with her. roslin is the daughter of, of course, walder frey, by one of his later wives. walder is like a donald trump figure in all the grossesness that entails. roslin became interested in discovering why people act the way that they do (and why that way is so often Bad) and how to try to help people like, not do that. discovering a man who was so earnest, true, and kind was a breath of fresh air. edmure only completed his bachelors and ended up going into public relations at a company in maidenpool but roslin went all the way to get her doctorate and start practicing psychiatry and helping people that way. they had three daughters, minisa who’s rickon’s age, bethany who’s three years younger, and celia who’s two years younger than that.

#modern westeros au #nedcat #edmure x roslin #brandon x barbrey #asoiaf #barbrey dustin #roslin frey #edmure tully #brynden tully #lyarra stark #rickard stark #minisa whent

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coneygoil · 5 years

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The Home We Built Together, part 3

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2

Writer’s note: Finally getting this part posted! It’s taken weeks to work on, getting a little done every few days.

Hiccup stared at the ceiling above, his head cushioned by his hand underneath him. She’d visited him at the smithy. Astrid had taken the time to walk to the blacksmith shop to see him! The tingling in Hiccup’s chest sent sparks into his limbs at the thought.

Astrid Hofferson – the girl he’d crushed on for years – was to be his wife. He would have been happy just going out on a date with her, but now he was to be with her the rest of his life!

As inciting as the prospect was, a small weight lingered in Hiccup’s chest. This wasn’t Astrid’s decision and though he was head over heels for her, he wished they could take it slower; to get to actually know each other before vowing to spend their lives together.

He wanted to make her happy; to take care of her as she deserved. Hiccup sighed deeply, his slender chest rising and falling in his eye line. He was only a 16-year old boy who could barely take care of himself, how would he possibly take care of another human being as well?

Hiccup pursed his lips, determination spurring up inside him. He’d try his best to be a good husband and prove to Astrid that he could be the Viking she deserved.

Astrid was a hard person to check up with. She was always on the go with dragon training and village duties, with the wedding preparations on top of all that. When Hiccup could slip away from the blacksmith shop during lulls, he’d go watch the dragon training.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her as Astrid battled the dragon of the day. Hiccup smiled broadly, and he couldn’t help cheer whenever Astrid succeeded. He wished he could be down there with the others his age, training to be a warrior. A slight bitterness remained in the pit of Hiccup’s stomach at his father’s decision to hold off on dragon fighting. Stoick concluded he was far too small and gangly still to train; “Odin, help us, maybe next year when there’s more meat on your bones.”

Hiccup had a plan to not miss his chance to slay one of the beasts; one of these days soon he’d get the calibration right and take down a dragon.

That evening in the Great Hall during suppertime, Hiccup spotted Astrid with the other teens at a table together. She’d been spending more time with the others since dragon training had begun. She wasn’t much of a participant in the conversations, Hiccup observed, but he caught her laughing along with the others every once and a while.

He wondered how it would be after they were wed. Would Astrid cook supper for them? Would he be welcomed into the group of his own age finally?

Working up the courage, Hiccup walked over to the table. “Room for one more?” he asked, feigning confidence.

Snotlout burst into laughter. “Haha! No! Not for anyone as useless as you!” The twins cackled evilly at the remark, while Fishlegs gazed at him with an air of judgement.

Hiccup peered at his cousin, the line of his mouth turned heavily down. Astrid remained quiet, her silence digging a hole in him.

“Oh look, that table has enough room…” Tuffnut pause before continuing the jab, “because it’s empty!”

Hiccup turned away before anymore remarks were spat on his behalf. He sighed deeply through his nose as he plopped down at the empty table, not feeling at all hungry anymore.

What was he thinking? Just because he and Astrid were betrothed that she’d automatically take up for him? She was thrown into this mess. Their marriage was her duty, but being obligated to help him fit in was not.

Hiccup started picking at his quickly cooling veggies, head hung low over his plate. Another plate suddenly appeared next to his. Hiccup looked to his left to find Astrid joining him. His heart sped up pace instantly.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

“Hey.”

“Sorry about those guys. They can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

“I’ve been wrong. I thought they were dumb all the time.”

He waited for Astrid to stick up for the other teens, but she surprised him. “You’re right. They are dumb all the time.” She gazed side-long at him. “Aren’t you and Snotlout cousins?”

Out of everyone in the entire village, Hiccup had to be related to the most obnoxious person in the tribe. “Unfortunately.”

He caught Astrid wrinkling her nose, a little quirk he decided was cute on her. “Eww…I’ll be related to Snotlout.”

Hiccup laughed humorlessly. “Sorry about that.”

Astrid playfully bumped his shoulder with hers. Hiccup’s breath caught as he froze in place. “Well, we can’t choose who our family is. Unfortunately.”

Hiccup frowned, feeling his shoulders hunch at what he assumed included their arranged nuptials.

Astrid caught his reaction, and quickly clarified, “I meant blood relations. Not…y’know-“ She swirled her hands between them in an attempt to make her correction clearer.

Awkward silence fell between them as they both picked up their food.

Hiccup had prepared a declaration for Astrid. He’d pondered thoroughly what he would say to her in hopes to show her how he desired to prove that he could be worthy of her. All the perfect scenarios that he’d conjured in his head dissolved into a dark room among every other person in the village over a cold plate of dinner.

Hiccup set down his fork, turning to face his betrothed. “Astrid, I will prove to you that I’m worthy of having you. I promise I will shoot down a dragon someday soon and I will slay it and become a real Viking.”

Astrid peered at him for a moment, her eyes hooded under long bangs. She set down her fork, sighing through her nose. “Hiccup, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“But-“

Her eyes sharpened upon him, cutting off his protest. “Quit trying before you or someone else gets hurt again by one of your contraptions.”

Hiccup knew he had a reputation on Berk, but it stung worse hearing Astrid bring it up.

Her expression softened, and concern filtered into her voice, “Do what you do best and stay safe working in the forge.” She flicked her eyes to the table, an uncertain air suddenly about her as she added, “Do it for me.”

***

Hiccup trekked back home at a slow pace, his mood a strange mix of being pleased that Astrid sat with him and frustration over her request. A stray rock went tumbling down the hill from the toe of his boot. Astrid didn’t understand what it meant to him to prove he could be a real Viking. She wanted him to be “safe”, but Hiccup was never one to stay in the safety zone.

He pushed on his front door, the weight of the wood seeming heavier tonight. All Hiccup wanted was to crash in his bed and disappear from his thoughts for several hours. His father, however, interrupted that plan.

“Son,” Stoick called out with an edge of firmness from his place at the table.

“Hey Dad,” Hiccup greeted, lacking gusto.

“Come here, I want to show you something.”

Hiccup reluctantly joined his father, glancing at the blueprints that were laid on the table.

“This,” Stoick swept a mighty hand over the papers, “is the final draft for your new hut.”

The statement made Hiccup’s insides seize up. It hadn’t crossed his mind where him and Astrid would live. A part of him automatically assumed they’d share his upstairs bedroom. His father’s hut was big enough for the three of them. Why did they need their own home yet? How was he supposed to be the leader of his own household at a mere 16 years old? He felt like choking when the crazy thought of babies shot through his mind.

“Dad?” he squeaked out then cleared his throat at an attempt to sound less like a scared kid. “Are you sure I’m ready for this? Because I really don’t think I am.”

Stoick made a grand gesture to emphasis his answer. “Sure, you are, son!”

Hiccup almost gave up right there. His father was boar-headed stubborn, but so was he. “I really have my doubts that I’m ready. Astrid is great and she’s…” the girl of my dreams, he was about to say but stalled before the words could escape his mouth, “she’s the kind of girl that I’d like to have by my side…just maybe not right now.”

Stoick shook his head, tisking and sighing. A scraping noise filled the room as he pushed back from the table to face Hiccup. “Son, I think it’s time ye knew.”

There was a somber tone in his father’s voice, and Hiccup assumed Stoick’s next words would be of his lost mother

“When I was your age, I was wed to a girl.”

Hiccup’s brow furrowed together. The timeline he knew of his parents did not go back that far. “But I thought you married Mom when you were older.”

“It is not your mother I speak of.”

Stories of his father’s endeavors before his birth were recounted throughout the village. Gobber always had a tale to spin of the epic “Stoick the Vindictive”. Every once and a while a vague story of his mother popped up in conversation. Never once was it mentioned that his father was married once before.

“I was-“ Stoick chuckled low in his gut, “a bit rough around the edges and needed to be reeled in sometimes. My father – your grandad – thought it would do well for me to take a wife to keep me in line and maybe smooth out those edges before I became chief. Inger was just what I needed.”

Stoick seemed lost in his own memories for a moment, his gaze glassy with a sad sheen in his eyes. Hiccup wasn’t sure how to feel. The fact that his mother wasn’t Stoick’s first wife was not a huge surprise. It wasn’t uncommon to lose a spouse and take up another. But Hiccup wasn’t sure he’d be able to shake off the punch that this first wife had never been mentioned by anyone in all of Berk – like she’d never existed.

“What happened to her?” Hiccup barely heard himself breathe.

Stoick bowed his head, the weight of losing not one but two wives hanging on his broad shoulders. “There was a terrible sickness one winter. Inger did not recover. I had her for two years, but in that short period, I’d grown to be a gentler person, a better person to become chief.”

If Inger had smoothed out his father edges, then was Astrid supposed to sharpen his?

Stoick cleared his throat, the sound finalizing his trip into the past. He sliced a vast hand down onto the table. “The point is, son, this marriage will be good for you in the long run.”

Hiccup released a sigh of frustration through his nose. There was no convincing his father of anything, not even giving him and Astrid more time to get to know each other. In a short two weeks, his life would change for better or the worse.

Tagging peeps this time around: @chiefhiccstrid @bitter-feat-dragons @earline-nathay @martabm90

#httyd fanfiction #hiccstrid #httyd au #the home we built together

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46ten · 5 years

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Eliza Hamilton biography review

Tilar J. Mazzeo's Eliza Hamilton: The Extraordinary Life and Times of the Wife of Alexander Hamilton Let me preface this review by stating that I'm not the target audience for a book like this, but I’ll try to be fair. A major challenge in writing a biography of Elizabeth S. Hamilton is that the period of her life when the general public has the most interest - the years of her marriage to Alexander Hamilton - are those in which we largely only have contemporaneous sentimental accounts of her as a wife (letters from AH and P. Schuyler, brief mentions from McHenry and Stephen Van Rensselaer), daughter (letters from P. Schuyler), and sister (letters to/from Angelica S. Church and Margarita/Peggy S. Van Rensselaer, and letters between her siblings and father). But that's not all that EH - or any woman - was. Based on the lack of information provided in this biography, Mazzeo's not terribly interested in the role of upperclass women in the late 18th century, the dynamics of marriage in that era, class distinctions between women, labor dynamics, childbearing and -rearing customs (she doesn't know about naming customs either), handicrafts, household management, women’s roles in education, the Republican Court, or any of a range of topics that would flesh out EH's world. Mazzeo doesn’t elaborate on the common conceit of the era that women had a political and social duty to the republic, including in helping to regulate the affairs of men through their “complementary” traits. She largely treats the social gatherings of women as arenas for gossip, titillation, and regular old social duty, not as opportunities for soft diplomacy, influence, and favor currying, which they most definitely also were. The women in this biography just sort of move across the stage of male dominance.* Since Mazzeo largely does not contextualize EH's 18th century life and seems to fall into the trap of, “the work of men is important; the work of women is only of side interest,” she's left repeating lots of gossip and conjecturing about romantic thoughts and feelings, as if these were largely all that women had to offer in the 18th century. Mazzeo clearly read letters that have not been included in the standard Hamilton narrative and found some things - mostly gossipy items - really interesting and was willing to go down the rabbit-hole on those, but was also comfortable relying on Hamilton biographies without going to primary sources on many subjects. The Good Mazzeo does add some valuable context of the events in Albany especially. She also adds Schuyler family voices to the narrative. I also liked how solidly she showed the interconnection of the Schuylers and AH with other wealthy and influential families. Although Mazzeo doesn't completely make the link, the tension of life near the frontier, wars, and the assassination attempts on her father's life may have played a role in EH's anxiety, such as it was, about being separated from her husband, esp. as he was also subject to threats of assassination at times. She could have more clearly made a counterargument to biographers' claims of EH's nervous anxiety by pointing out the terrors that EH really did face, but she does not do this. While for dubious reasons (based on how she sees EH as a character), Mazzeo raises issues around the Reynolds Pamphlet. It needs to be taken more seriously that Maria Reynolds denied - to at least two parties on the record - that an extramarital affair ever happened and volunteered a handwriting sample** to prove that the letters in AH's supposed possession were not written by her. I appreciate that Mazzeo brought up that AH's explanation for his involvement with James Reynolds was not universally accepted at the time - Monroe had serious doubts, as did Callendar. Unfortunately, some of Callendar's pamphlets detailing why he thought both were possible - AH was a sleaze who could have both had an affair with MR AND been engaged in shady financial dealings with her husband - are also lost to history. I am also gleeful that I'm not the only person who has noticed that there is a similarity between EH's spelling style and MR's as re-printed. (I have also entertained the thought that EH forged those MR letters herself, or were AH forgeries copying parts of his wife's letters.) I also appreciate that she points out that AH's claim of an affair with MR became widespread knowledge in the political sphere within a very short period of time. The Bad While Mazzeo adds to the record with facts from the Schuyler family letters, she relies heavily on Hamilton biographies, and not even the thorough, well-sourced ones, for others. Based on the notes at the end of the book, she didn't bother to go to (or check for) primary sources for a lot of facts about AH. She states that Edward Stevens was "likely" AH's half-brother, which has largely been dismissed as a possibility. There are bizarre dating errors, wrong years, even wrong kids named - by my rough estimate, on average there are factual errors at least on every other page. Did Mazzeo not have a fact-checker - even someone decently acquainted with the facts around the persons she’s writing about? (She also contradicts herself on information she’s provided, so maybe she didn’t have a good proofreader either.) It's head-scratching that Mazzeo would do enough research to conjecture that "Polly" (from Tench Tilghman's May 1780 letter, recorded in his memoir) was Mary Tilghman, but not bother to read AH and GW letters to know more about EH's 1794 pregnancy. Similarly, she gets it right that William S. Hamilton was born in NYC, but then thinks Eliza traveled to Albany right after. (Although a letter from PS to EH from late August contradicts that claim.) She even repeats the shoe bow story, but claims it did happen in 1789 (incorrect), and says the person mistakenly thought Peggy was unmarried because of the way she behaved? Stephen Van Rensselaer was a reasonably well-known man. Back to the Reynolds Pamphlet: Mazzeo uses as evidence of AH's drafting of the MR letters the similarity between them and Pamela. It's not really evidence that someone - anyone - would write using common idioms and expressions of the time. AH did it quite frequently himself, as I've written about on this blog - he's doing it when he uses the popular phrase, "best of wives, best of women," not making some reference to the Nut-brown maid poem. This isn't proof that the MR letters were forged. Mazzeo hypothesizes that the real reason for the Pamphlet was further financial scandal cover-up, but never conjectures as to the wheres/hows. (If only she could see my many pages of notes on the interactions between AH, John Church, and Church's financial associates.) I'm also baffled as to Mazzeo's explanation for EH going along with the coverup of a financial scandal of the Reynolds Pamphet - because she was afraid of her husband going to jail? That this was EH's biggest fear? Where is the evidence for that? The Ugly The treatment of Peggy! Harsh and man hungry and scared of being a spinster - though a theme with Mazzeo is all of these women being obsessed with flirtations and afraid of ending up husband-less. The treatment of Angelica! The treatment of JOHN CHURCH, whom she describes as a "scoundrel." AH is a "rogue," seemingly with a drinking problem, visiting prostitutes (yet somehow having MR as a mistress would be too much), staying out late at night. It's a wonder that Mazzeo's AH ever accomplished anything in his life, with all of the 18th century character flaws and errors in judgement she gives him. Most especially with sexual activities, she repeats gossip from AH detractors several times in the book, while her sources are John Adams (as much as two decades later) and Benjamin Latrobe (good friend to Jefferson). Mazzeo repeats a story, more than once, about AH sexually assaulting Sarah L. Jay that Adams related decades later and that even Adams' cousin William Cunningham said sounded like nonsense, and guesses as to EH's parlor-room reaction to it. Yet AH and Church would have had about zero social standing if this were really how they had behaved (or if these anecdotes had been widely known at the time). And then there's all of the fantasy treated as fact - without letters to draw on from the period of her childhood and marriage, Mazzeo spends a lot of time imagining EH's feelings and thoughts and presenting them as facts. As one illustration, Mazzeo invents a wedding scene in which Eliza and Alexander exchange rings. Nevermind that EH's actual wedding ring was interlocking and AH likely never had a ring - Mazzeo has AH give Eliza the "Elizabeth" ring, and her give him the "Alexander &" ring. Why would they exchange rings with their own names? Finally, there's a good deal of documentation of EH's life after AH, including more letters from her, more evidence of her financial management, and actually more about her beliefs, thoughts and feelings than are available during her marriage. This is the period when EH's "voice" is most clearly recorded, along with her actions outside the management of her household and her husband's public career. Yet this gets very short-shrift by Mazzeo. The Ugly left a strong impression - it doesn't seem that Mazzeo is neutral about the personages, but actively dislikes them. At various times, she slams pretty much everyone who made up EH's closest circle during her marriage: her parents, her sisters, her husband, her brother-in-law, and then goes against acceptance of the Reynolds Pamphlet not through analysis of the evidence but because she wants an EH that is more palatable to her. EH, ultimately, comes across as a cypher. Mazzeo does have a strong narrative style, and I wish that this book could have been a collaboration between a historian (or at least someone with stronger scholarly skills) and herself, to at least tease out a real world. I think we're a good 50 years past writing women from other eras as if they're completely unknowable except as wives, mothers, and daughters. *In patriarchal cultures, there are always women cooperating with the dominant culture as a means to their own ends. The compromises and nuances of how that plays out in societal rules are fascinating. But, I guess, not to Mazzeo.

**This really needs further comment in my epic John Church-AH shenanigans post, where Jeremiah Wadsworth gets more attention, but I’ll point out here that AH asked Wadsworth to confirm MR’s handwriting, from AH to Wadsworth, 28Jul1797 (in NYC, writing to Wadsworth in Hartford, CT):

My Dear Wadsworth

I regretted much, that I did not find you here.

I know you have seen the late publications, in which the affair of Reynold’s is revived. I should have taken no notice of them had not the names of Mughlenberg Monroe & Venable given them an artificial importance. But I thought under this circumstance, I could not but attend to them. The affair has so turned that I am obliged to publish every thing.

But from the lapse of time I am somewhat embarrassed to prove Mrs. Reynold’s hand writing. Thinking it probable, as she was a great scribbler you must have received some notes from her when she applied to you for assistance, I send you one of her notes to me and if your recollection serves would be much obliged to you to return it with your affidavit annexed—“That you received letters from Mrs. Reynolds, conceived yourself to be acquainted with her hand writing & that you verily believe this letter to be of her hand writing.”

If your memory does not serve you then return the letter alone to me. If I remember right I never knew of your agency towards procuring Reynold’s relief, till after he was discharged. If your memory stands in the same way, I will thank you to add a declaration to this effect.

Dont neglect me nor lose time.

Yrs. truly

This was Wadsworth’s response (2Aug1796), truncated by me:

your favor of the 28th July arrived late last evening. I have not the least knowledge of Mrs. Reynolds’s hand writing nor do I remember ever to have recd a line from her if I did they were destroyed but a letter or two for you which by Your request I returned to her or destroyed. ...[S]he immediately fell into a flood of Tears and told me a long storey about her application to You for Money when in distress in her husbands Absence & that it ended in a amour & was discovered by her husband from a letter she had written to you which fell into his hands. I told her I would see Mr. Woolcott & G Mifflin The next Morning I told Mr. Woolcott what had passed he then related the transaction for which Clingn & Reys had been committed. I then went to Mifflin and told him I came at ye request of Mrs. Reynolds. he imediately told me that she had told him the Story of the amour. ...A Mr. Clingman whom I had never seen before and seemed to have been sent for was present part of the time. From this interview I was fully confirmed in my Opinion before formed that the whole business was a combination among them to Swindle you. Mrs Reynolds called on me again and urged me deliver letters to You. You refused to receive them & desired me to return letters for You or destroy them I do not know which. I rec’d several Messages from her and again went to her house told her you would hold no correspondence with her and gave her my Opinion as at first that her husband must undergo a trial. I can not be particular as to time & date and I do not remember that I ever knew how he was liberated untill I lately saw Mr Woolcott. I certainly never considered myselfe as having any agency in procureing Reynolds’s relief nor do I remember ever to have had any conversation with You on the subject untill after your meeting with the Mess Munroe Melenburg & Venables. and had supposed Reynolds to have been ⟨released⟩ by their influence he was ⟨ashamed⟩ to have been so ⟨–⟩ after an Explanation with you. I am sorry you have found it necessary to publish any thing for it will be easy to invent new Calumnies & you may be kept continualy employed in answring. be Assured it never will be in the power of your enemies to give the public an opinion that you have Speculated in ye funds, nor do they expect it: I should have replied by this days Post—but the Mail arrives here at nine at night & goes out at Two in the Morning. I am D sir truly yours

#Elizabeth Hamilton #Tilar Mazzeo #Reynolds Pamphlet #John Church #Jeremiah Wadsworth #Schuylers #18th century women

17 notes · View notes