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emmcarstairs · 4 years

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Lucie Herondale: From Childhood to Adulthood

A/N: Sadly, technology is still not that advanced and I don’t have access to Cassie’s head. What you’re about to read is my interpretation of several scenes and symbols, based on what I’ve read about cautionary fairy tales, mythological tropes and my own literary experience. Of course, fairy tales don’t reflect the complexity of real life. But sometimes authors make use of the codes found in their construct. I’ve written this text for fun. So if you enjoy reading such literary analyses, by all means, proceed.

Disclaimer: Discussion of sexuality

So these days I can’t stop thinking about Lucie and her story (surprise, ik!) and I had a sort of epiphany. In one of my ramblings about Lucie, I mentioned how Lucie’s arc is reminiscent of a typical coming-of-age tale. These writings usually serve as a subtle introduction of adulthood to children. And I think I found a clue about Lucie’s next step towards maturity.

So where did we leave Lucie in Chain of Gold? She is now aware of the hidden power within her which has been docile all her life. At first, her power manifests itself unknowingly to her (interrogating Gast, saving Cordelia). By the end of the book, however, she uses it intentionally (commanding Jesse) and we know she plans to exercise it again. Pay attention that she’s initially afraid of her “monstrous power”, as Gast calls it; she doesn’t want to order anyone around and she’s not sure of the extent of her abilities. She knows of their existence but she hasn’t mastered them yet.

Alongside the awakening of her demonic power, Lucie experiences another “awakening” - that of her sexuality. She tells the reader that she has begun to notice things she wouldn’t have paid attention to before:

She would not have noticed his state of undress when she was so young, but she was very conscious of it now. (p.170)

Still, Lucie has not yet fully grasped the meaning behind these new aspects of her life. Throughout the book, she attributes them to familiar experiences:

As a writer, one had to pay attention to these things. Descriptions were very important. (p.220)

Or she’s completely baffled by the way her body reacts:

She could feel her heart pounding, and was a little surprised at herself. It wasn’t as if seeing ghosts was that a rare occurrence for her. (p. 219)

Now, I have to make an important side note: In fairy tales, harnessing one’s sexuality usually stands for gaining knowledge. Sexuality is in direct opposition to innocence which can be interpreted as the state of still having knowledge to learn. In my previous analysis, I touched briefly upon how the awakening of Lucie’s powers and the realisation of her full potential (=sexuality) are interwoven together. So we’ll see how these two develop simultaneously.

So far, Lucie’s character arc loosely follows “The Heroine’s Journey” (you might have heard of “The Hero’s Journey” but the two are different). While “The Hero’s Journey” is primarily about performing a deed of bravery and physical power (e.g killing the dragon), “The Heroine’s Journey” is oriented inwards and it’s main goal is to reconcile the monster within (=”monstrous power”). It’s about descending into the deepest parts of oneself and returning with a greater awareness. Maureen Mardock, the author of “The Heroine’s Journey”, writes:

Persephone is pulled out of the innocence (unconsciousness) of everyday life into a deeper consciousness of self by Hades. She is initiated into the sexual mysteries … She becomes Queen of the Underworld.

So the question is how this descent may be portrayed in TLH. What if I tell you that Lucie will be “initiated” into a world of “sexual mysteries” very soon? And that this “world” is none other than Hell Ruelle - a literal Downworld establishment.

In an early chapter, Lucie, Cordelia, and Anna meet up for a party at the Hell Ruelle.

Let’s see what some of the characters have to say about this place.

Matthew: “Are you quite sure you want to come, Cordelia? It will be scandalous.”

Cordelia: “It was rumoured that more daring things happened at salons as well, in the shadows and the dark gardens, couples gathering to tryst where no one could see them.”

Anna: “One famous noble lady seated her artistic guests in her ruelle- the space between her bed, any lady’s bed, really, and the wall. A scandalous spot.”

Also consider the following: Hell Ruelle is the place which Matthew and Anna, two of presumably the most “scandalous” characters, visit regularly. It’s the venue for Anna’s attempts at seduction. The place where we see Cordelia wearing probably the most revealing clothes she’s ever put on in her life. And, of course, the place where she and James share the steamiest love scene in the whole book.

In short, it is a scandalous spot, where adult pleasures take place. And I find it significant that Lucie is about to go there now, after her initial awakening in CoG.

A few weeks ago, I actually wondered if Lucie would have had her birthday by the start of CoI. You know, as a means of showing that she’d literally grown up. But it’s not possible since that would mean she’s the same age as James. Then the cover was revealed and one of the first exclamations @jesseblackthorns made was “She looks very matured!”. It’s true because this is the point of her journey towards self-discovery. Kudos to the designer! And then I thought: what better way to show this than with her visit to Hell Ruelle in the beginning of the next book as a symbolic crossing of one of the thresholds to adulthood?

“Threshold” is an important word choice here. Look at what Cordelia sees at the entrance of Hell Ruelle:

Inside was a narrow hallway whose walls were heavy red cloth tapestries hanging from the ceiling to floor, obscuring whatever was behind them. At the end of the hall was another door, also painted red.

We have a hallway, we also have a door, a literal threshold, if you will. It’s a boundary between two worlds. The tapestries “obscure” Cordelia’s perception; a hidden potential is out of sight, anything might lie beyond. The color red is everywhere; red is often associated with passion, desire and sexuality. Moreover, it’s hanging from the walls, it’s bleeding. I don’t want to get too explicit but the sexual subtext is there.

As she goes further in the heart of the party, we have this passage:

Cordelia felt her heart flutter a bit - there was something about this night that felt dangerous, and not because she was in a room full of Downworlders. The fact that none of them were making any attempt to hide it did make it seem less worrisome. (p.228)

The Downworlders reveal their true nature here. In a way, here they are their fully-realised selves (=adults). So Cordelia has symbolically entered adulthood – and adulthood often feels dangerous and confusing. Note the succession of details which are closely associated with adult entertainment. Cordelia notices the paintings of naked figures on the walls. And after a brief hesitation, she proceeds to drink champagne - an alcoholic drink - for the first time in her life.

Despite the feeling of danger and novelty in the air, Cordelia doesn’t turn around and run. She embraces it. She jokes about the nudity depicted in the paintings, and she leaves the party as a hero after saving the warlocks. This goes to show just how self-aware Cordelia is and I think we can all agree that she’s one of the most mature protagonists Cassie has ever written.

What about Lucie then? We haven’t seen her in such a setting before and it would be interesting to follow her experience. I hope that we’ll have a glimpse of her POV during the party. In my opinion, this is very likely since we’ve already had Cordelia’s POV and Anna is in her element in this place. So it all depends on what Cassie wants to show us and the plot.

To sum up, Lucie’s visit to Hell Ruelle is a symbolic step towards adulthood. In CoG, she’s wary of the newfound power within her which also symbolises her sexual awakening. Following “The Heroine’s Journey”, the more comfortable Lucie gets with wielding her power, the more aware and confident of herself she’ll become (and vice versa). The coming-of-age stories usually tackle themes such as the interplay between uncertainty/disgust and attraction about sexuality. The visit will broaden Lucie’s horizons and it’s a step along the way of her becoming a fully-realized human being in terms of fairy tale tradition.

Thank you for reading! If you have any questions, please ask me! <333

#lucie herondale #chain of gold #the last hours #my analyses

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classified-bluerose · 5 years

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put me back together - quentin beck x reader

a/n: (mild) spiderman: ffh spoilers ahead. probably a very OOC quentin but hey... the man got me clownin’.

quick notes: reader is an avenger, quentin is quentin, this is far too soft tbfh but it’s fanfiction so \_(0-0)_/. just suspend your belief & hope u enjoy!

a/n 2: unedited, unbeta’d. idk man. i’m just in love w jake gyllenhaal (gylenhaal?) and mysterio is hot as hell.

(GIF is not mine)

—

chapter one: breathless

—

quentin beck is a meticulous man - he planned every facet of his revenge plot down to the smallest of details. arranged contingencies and back-up plans and waited, with the patience of a saint, for the correct moment to strike. he ensured any and all top-tier avengers were MIA, left it just long enough for SHIELD to pull together some semblance of it’s former operation but short enough so they were still finding their feet in the aftermath of the Blip. getting around the kid, parker, would be easy enough. he’d been through a tremendous amount of trauma, and quentin could use that to his advantage.

the one thing quentin beck didn’t count on, though, was you.

you, an avenger - or a former avenger, at least - who fell somewhere in the middle of all the others. not by power level, simply by how known you were. the widow and the hawk were rarely spotted and little was known about either, whilst iron man and captain america owned the heart and soul of the entire nation. banner was known for his destructive capabilities and thor worshipped for his literal godliness and appearance.

how shallow the common folk can be, quentin always mused.

then you - powerful, but not plastered across billboards or tv ads. quiet and lowkey, but not quite invisible. quentin was aware of your existence but never paid much attention to it, having heard that, following stark and roger’s deats that you’d quit the superhero charade and disappeared into the ether.

so, the man of mysteries found himself more than a little surprised when fury showed up mexico, with you in tow.

a little bit of panic hits as he watches you appraise the scene - this could be a problem, he thinks to himself, scanning his brain for any possible solution. it is only when he begins to interact with the shield agents that he notices something.

although you are standing in his presence, alive, solid, real, it‘s pretty obvious you aren’t exactly there. haunted images flicker across an otherwise stoic face as shoulders bow from the weight of grief and guilt and trauma. glassy eyes stare through and not at, words mumbled in montone in response to fury.

okay, quentin thinks, hiding a smirk, i can work with this.

—

the plan changes ever-so-slightly before venice. it is simple but brilliant, even if he does say so himself. having already laid the groundwork for his tragic backstory, it is easy to weave your character into the tapestry he was creating.

pained glances, longing expressions, a hesistant greeting - all little, subtle clues hinting to the fact that quentin knew you in his alternate world.

fury picks up on it first, of course. the spy who’s secrets have secrets still has the eye for detail he’s famous for. you, on the other hand, are oblivious to quentin’s actions - obvlious to pretty much anything happening around you. you don’t speak unless directly spoken too, don’t offer insight or advice on how to defeat the elementals. it‘s almost like fury has dragged you here in a bid to convince you to return to the fold.

quentin learns as much as he can about you as he flies over the sea to italy; not much could be gleaned from online sources but he pulls out just enough information to put together a rough sketch of who you are, what you wanted, what you’d lost.

you’d worked with the avengers since 2012, sided with stark in the infamous civil war years later - the idea of you being close to that man was enough to set quentin’s blood boiling - and had fought in both battles against the mad titan thanos. your powers were certainly impressive - your ability to conjure and manipulate fire set off a fresh worry. the final elemental that mysterio would face off against was the one made of ‘’flames’’ - what if you decided your powers would help with the destruction of the molten man?

quentin files that thought away for later as he clicks on a rare picture printed on some trendy news site. he almost doesn’t recognise the girl in the photograph as you. you were younger, looked lighter, did not carry as many ghosts on your back. and you were smiling. wide and bright and shining and quentin struggled to pull himself away from the sight.

when he did, he itemised the information he’d gathered into what he could and couldn’t use to win you over. after all, every superhero needs a love interest to protect, right?

you were close to stark, that much was painfully, bitterly obvious. newsreports following the aftermath of the last battle hinted at an intimate relationship with the black widow, too. both those people were dead and gone and that meant there was something missing in her life. an empty space that quentin was certain he could fill. the battle had caused some damage to your powers - almost like a battery, the effort and strain of fighting thanos had drained your energy quite significantly. you were slowly returning to your original state, but right now you were weakened, hurting. vulnerable.

perfect for quentin.

he gathered his information, updated the team on this latest development, and braced himself for what would come next.

—

when he reaches venice, it’s clear that fury has mentioned to you that quentin has taken an interest. you seem slightly more alert, meeting his gaze for periods longer than a half-second. your body language changes minutely - your arms, usually crossed tight across your chest, now hang looser at your waist, fingers interlaced. it is by no means a huge shift, but enough for quentin to make his move.

after a meeting with agents, fury, and spiderman, he hangs around the base setup, lingering at consoles and waiting for the last of the people to trickle out. you have stayed on to keep an eye on quentin - fury is no fool and recognised that this stranger from some other world could turn out to be just as much a threat as the monsters he was fighting. quentin couldn’t surpress a smile as he thought, oh, you don’t know the half of it.

he quickly rearranges his face when he clears his throat and approaches you, slowly. you glance up. he took his time to savour this moment - this scene he was most excited for.

he smiles, softly. ‘’ hey. i was hoping i’d a get a chance to talk to you. ‘’

no verbal response; you simply gaze at him expectantly.

quentin let his eyes take in every inch of your face - not a hardship, in fairness, you were beautiful in every way to him. if any other world really did exist she’s the girl he’d approach at a bar and offer to buy her a drink.

focus, quentin, he reminds himself, and breathes out a short laugh. ‘’ it’s so good to see you. ‘’

again, no real answer. just a tilt of the head, confusion in the eyes.

he let his fingers fall to the simple silver band on his left finger, twisting the metal around. your gaze follows the movements and there’s a brief moment where quentin swears he can see the cogs turning in your brain.

the blank expression breaks - a frown furrowing your brow, lips parting in a silent ‘’oh’’. excitement brims low in his belly - it’s working. she’s already figured it out.

you take a breath and turn your head away. when you look back, your face is neutral once again. but there’s something there - a softness that’s new. a tiny chink in the armour, all that quentin needs.

‘’ i’m sorry for your loss, ‘’ you tell him, ‘’ but i’m not her. ‘’

he nods quickly, ‘’ i know, i know. it’s just ... you look like her. ‘’ he falters in his words and feels tears building behind his eyes. seeing his watery gaze you clam up and he curses himself for getting too into it. after a second, however...

‘’ i know how it feels. to lose the one you love. to feel like it’s your fault, like you could’ve - should have - saved them, ‘’ you sigh and rub your face, tiredly. ‘’ but that’s not gonna help you save this world, quentin. ‘’

the sound of your name leaving his lips sends a tremor through his heart. he freezes momentarily - what is this feeling? - but quickly shakes out of it as you continue.

‘’ you gotta move on, ‘’ your voice is nothing more than a whisper, ‘’ you have a chance, now, to win, and you can’t let bad feelings ruin it. ‘’

you meet his gaze almost shyly, and he feels physically drawn in to you, doesn’t even realise his feet are moving until he’s barely a breath away. startled by the sudden closeness you take a step back and harden your features once again.

quentin apologises, sounding sincere, ‘’ i didn’t realise ... you’re not like her, not entirely. she was ... she didn’t have powers. ‘’ he lets the ghost of a fake memory flutter across his face. ‘’ but she was still the strongest person i knew. ‘’ his voice splinters on the last word and tears slip down his face.

you hesistate, he senses the uncertainty, and moves to turn away as though ashamed.

his stomach does a victory flip when your hand comes to touch his armoured shoulder. from underneath long, damp lashes he peeks down at you. you look as though you’re hurting for him and something harsh twists in his chest. he doesn’t have time to think about it, though. not when your hand slides down the material of his costume and finds it’s way into his.

you squeeze it gently, the unnatural warmth of your skin almost burning against his palm. quentin finds himself feeling comforted, tries to climb out of the moment and remember that this isn’t real -

he slips a little bit when you squeeze his hand a second time, and say, ‘’ just make her proud, quentin. you can save this world. do it for her. ‘’

his breath leaves him and he’s silent for a long moment as he gazes down at your face. he feels cracked open, raw, vulnerable. eventually, he nods, waits for his voice to even out. squeezes your hand back, a little tighter than necessary.

‘’ i’ll do my best. ‘’

|| Part 1 of ? ||

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acourtofhopeanddreams · 4 years

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Today is gonna be a special date

Written for @gotsecretsanta femslash February exchange for @cocoalover1956 I really hope that this is the cuteness, the fluff and a little bit of the friendship you were looking for!

Sansa had no idea how much Daenerys loved her, but she was gonna find that out tonight and it took every ounce of willpower from Arya to hide her own excitement.

Modern AU // Pure Fluff // multiple POV’s

“Sansa!” Arya shifted her weight from one foot to the other. For the millionth time today she stared at the clock and by now it had reached an alarming hour.

They were late.

“Sansa! Come on! Daenerys and Myrcella are waiting for us!”

“Let them wait a little longer! I’m not done yet!” Sansa yelled back and Arya licked her dry lips. For her sister this was just a double date like they had had so many already. They didn’t need to impress their girls anymore. They knew everything and anything, any bad habit and any horrible character trait, and yet they were still here.

But for Arya this date was special. Because she knew how incredibly special this date was gonna be for Sansa.

She gave her sister five more minutes. “If you don’t come down now, I will drive on my own and tell Daenerys you stood her up!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And don’t think I won’t do it, because I will!” She reached for her car keys and put on her jacket. As soon as she opened the front door she heard her sister’s footsteps rushing down the stairs.

“Why the rush? We’re just gonna have dinner. They really won’t give our table away if we don’t show up at seven sharp.” Sansa quickly checked her reflection in the mirror and used her fingers to comb her hair one last time.

Arya smiled and shook her head. “Daenerys loves you, okay? No need to change anything else.”

Sansa had no idea how much Daenerys loved her, but she was gonna find that out tonight and it took every ounce of willpower from Arya to hide her own excitement.

“I’d just like to be on time for once. Show them we can do it.” She shrugged and waited for her sister to put her jacket on and follow her out of the house.

Sansa eyed her sister wearily when Arya stopped the car in front of an expensive restaurant. She had noticed how Arya had kept her mouth shut during the entire car ride, something that rarely happened. And she had noticed how Arya had grabbed the steering wheel as if her life depended on it.

“Are you nervous about something or what?” Sansa grinned while she opened the car door and stepped out. “It’s a restaurant like all others.” But Arya didn’t leave the car. “What are you waiting for? Get out!”

Arya shook her head. “I’m not coming with you. Myrcella and I will be just around the corner enjoying a giant bucket of popcorn while watching that new romantic comedy.”

“You really have it bad, have you?” Sansa grinned, but then she furrowed her eyebrows. “But wait, wasn’t this supposed to be a double date?”

“Nope!” Arya shook her head firmly and Sansa didn’t trust the gleam in her eyes and the playful smile around her lips. “Have fun with Daenerys. I’ll pick you up after the movie. Let me know if I don’t have to!”

“Why wouldn’t I…”

But Arya already leaned over and closed the door to drive away to find a parking spot nearby.

“…want to come home with you?” Sansa sighed.

There were moments she though she had her little sister all figured out. Of course, when they had been little they had fought a lot. They were nothing alike and would never be. But the older they got, the more they started to like those differences. But not once had her sister just threw her out of the car before.

“That took you long enough!”

Sansa turned around and whatever she had been thinking or worrying about disappeared as soon as she saw the white haired beauty walking towards her. “I wanted to look pretty!” Sansa raised her voice.

“You always look pretty!” Daenerys wrapped her arms around Sansa’s waist and pressed her lips to hers.

They had kissed before. And if it were up to Sansa they would kiss a lot more in the future and yet every time their mouths collided Sansa felt this nice and wonderful flutter in her chest.

“Come on! I have the best table reserved.” Daenerys reached for Sansa’s hand and all too willingly Sansa allowed her to pull her inside.

Daenerys had not been joking when she had said she had the best table reserved. A fancy looking waiter, with his hair combed back and an entire stash of gel in it, lead them to a table in the corner in the back, a little away from prying eyes and ears, but with a view on the charming garden where the roses were blooming and climbing the entire wall.

“Wow, you really went out of your way this time for me, didn’t you?” Sansa let her eyes wander over the table. Three sets of cutlery, two giant wine glasses and a beautiful rose in a gracious vase. “Are you sure you are willing to pay for this? I would absolutely and totally be fine with us going to a cheaper restaurant. As long as I spend the night with you, it really doesn’t matter where we are.”

“See?” Daenerys shoved a chair back and gestured for Sansa to sit down. “And that is why I love you.” She pecked Sansa’s cheek. “But we’re staying here. I pay for everything and I don’t want you to hold back. We’re gonna get a starter, a main course and at least two desserts. Understood?”

Sansa nodded and reluctantly she reached for the menu. She didn’t dare to look at the prices. Of course, she didn’t mind ordering whatever she wanted when her father or big brothers were paying, but it felt different with Daenerys.

Maybe long ago Sansa had thought that love was about fancy dinners and thoughtful presents. But that was before she had met Joffrey and Ramsay and had decided that all those fairytales had it wrong. It was before she had met Daenerys and had realized what love was truly about.

It was about being with someone who understood you without you having to explain yourself over and over again. It was about being there for each other, even when it’s hard and painful and even when the other lashes out. It was about knowing that the other isn’t perfect, but loving them anyway and letting them be whoever they are. It was about not caring about anything as long as you were with them, knowing that all you need to make it through whatever life throws your way was their hand in yours.

Daenerys tried whatever she could to keep the conversation going. She came up with topic after topic after topic. The palms of her hands however were sweating and once in a while Sansa caught her mind wandering. Whenever Sansa asked what she was thinking about, Daenerys didn’t answer.

In a way dessert couldn’t come soon enough. In a way Daenerys needed way more hours to prepare herself and find the right words.

How does one describe love? How does one tell the person they love how that feels and how deep that goes? How can words ever do justice to those deep and overwhelming feelings accompanying one wherever one goes?

“Shall we bring you your first desserts?”

But Daenerys’ time was up. It was now or never. There wouldn’t be a second chance.

Her hands were trembling and luckily she was still seated, as she wasn’t entirely sure if her knees were capable of carrying her any longer.

Every time a waiter walked their way Daenerys tensed all her muscles, getting ready as if this was a battle and her life was on the line.

In a way that was the case. Her life was on the line. She didn’t doubt that Sansa loved her. She did however doubt how much Sansa loved her. Would the beautiful red head love her enough? Wouldn’t this be too soon? Wouldn’t it go too fast?

“The giant ice coup with two spoons.” The waiter smiled when he handed both Sansa and Daenerys their spoon and Daenerys felt her heart racing in her chest.

With wary eyes she watched how Sansa started eating. Sansa took agonizing small bites and she allowed every flavor to linger on her tongue for as long as possible.

Only after ages the metal of the spoon touched the metal of something else.

“Dany…” Sansa leaned forward and looked at the ice cream.

Daenerys knew what she was seeing. She had asked the waiter to put it in there, carefully, wrapped in a little layer of protective plastic, but still.

“What is…” Sansa grabbed the ring and she used her napkin to wipe the plastic clean. While Sansa was focussed on her treasure Daenerys slipped from her seat and knelt down next to Sansa’s chair.

“Sansa…” She cleared her throat. “I hope I don’t overwhelm you, because that is the last thing I want, but…” Her voice still trembled and once more she coughed in an attempt to give herself time and breathing room. “Both our lives have not been easy. I never thought I would trust someone this much ever again. I never thought I would hand my heart on a silver platter to another person once more.” She licked her dry lips and then she made the mistake of looking up at Sansa.

Sansa’s eyes were wide open and her jaw dropped. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t smiling. She was just staring at Daenerys.

All of a sudden Daenerys realized how ridiculous it looked. One of her knees touched the tapestry and she quickly reached for Sansa’s hand to give her own hands something to do.

After one more deep breath she gathered all the courage she could find in herself. “But I do trust you. I know that you will take care of my heart and will be careful with it. I know you will never step on it and that you will never crush it without mercy. I know that your love is pure and honest and without a hidden agenda. And I want to make sure that no one else will ever be able to snatch you from me.” She swallowed. “Therefore, Sansa Stark, do I ask you if you will marry me, Daenerys Targaryen?”

The silence was deafening. All the eyes in the restaurant were on them. No one was breathing or eating or moving. It seemed to last hours and hours.

“Yes.” Sansa smiled and she freed her hands to press the palms of her hands to Daenerys’ glowing cheeks. “Of course I will!” Her voice sounded an octave higher than normally, but there was a beautiful glimmer in her eyes.

Daenerys reached for the ring and her fingers trembled when she freed it from the plastic bag. “I can’t wait for the day you will officially be mine, until then this ring marks you as mine. Mine to love. Mine to cherish and mine to take care of.” She shove the ring on Sansa’s finger and pushed herself up again. Then she leaned forward to kiss Sansa’s lightly parted and eagerly waiting lips.

In a way it was a kiss like so many. But it was also the most beautiful, wonderful and special kiss they had ever shared. And only a promise for everything else that would follow.

They had years and years together. Years of kissing. Years of touching. Years of loving. And for the first time in her entire life, Daenerys looked forward to the future, the future with this smart and beautiful girl.

#gotsecretsanta #daenerys targaryen #Sansa Stark #game of thrones #got #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #sansa stark fanfiction #daenerys targaryen fanfiction #sansa/daenerys #sansa x daenerys #daenerys x sansa

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