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moonlightazriel · 9 days

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Chapter 14: Into the lion's den /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N enters Koschei's lair and finally confirms some suspicions

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Again mentions of trauma and grief.

Notes: I'm so glad that I have almost all the chapters written cuz my fingers are fucking useless now and I can't write 🙄

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

The dark living room was immediately illuminated by faelights, papers scattered around the table, potions and a liquid simmering in a cauldron near the fire. She scrunched her nose at the rotten smell. A screeching, like a trapped creature sounded somewhere behind the closed doors that led to the basement, she shivered thinking what could be suffering in his hands.

Drawings adorned the walls, receipts and terrifying creatures. Her breath hitched as she recognized the circle with wyrd marks used to summon the ridderak. This was even more scary than Baba Yellowleg’s tent, the Matron would send her there regularly to check on the older witch and her home always made her bones cold.

“So..” He cleared his throat, those golden eyes turned to her direction, pinning her in place. “Tell me what. What troubles your heart?” He once again extended his hand and she quietly placed it onto his.

Mantyx almost gasped with the swirling of emotions that hit him when he touched her skin. Anger, hatred, pain, grief, pain was what burned brighter in that array of feelings that clouded her mind. He tried to take a look but he was met with a wall made of pure steel, unbreakable, unbendable and impenetrable.

But another thing caught his attention, singing beautifully to no one hear, a mating bond stood, he had learned everything about it in the years he was trapped there. A bond shared by two people that was stronger than everything, once the bond was accepted nothing could break it. He tugged at the string lightly, watching closely as she startled, her free hand flying to her heart. She didn’t understand what this was.

Near that cabin, a worried shadowsinger yelped in surprise as he felt a tug in his chest, like someone was pulling a string tied to his soul. Lucien looked at him with a raised eyebrow, asking him if he was alright. Azriel just shook his head, hand rubbing circles in his chest, in a soothing manner. His eyes focused back on the cabin door, he wanted to go there and kick it down, rescuing her but he knew he couldn’t.

“I see that you lost someone very important to you.” He pointed it out, going for the easiest approach, usually wasn’t hard to know what troubled people, they were too simple to read, always thinking they were good at hiding their emotions and thinking of him as a god for being able to read them like a cooking book.

“I lost everything.” She quietly replied, Y/N never really opened up to anyone after the war, just brushing their concerns off and focusing on her work to suffocate those drowning feelings. “I lost my sister, the only person that truly loved me, I couldn't even say goodbye. I lost my way, I lost myself after she was gone, and I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to what I was.”

Mantyx looked at her, the despair pungent on the tip of his tongue. The shadows in her eyes darkened as she frowned, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling all of her negative emotions fill the void in his chest, he had to suppress a smirk at it, he fed from negative emotions, draining them and leaving the person numb.

“You can’t ever go back, all you can do is keep going and adapt to the change.” He offered and she scoffed.

“I would give anything, do anything to get her back.” Mantyx approached her. It was like the light couldn’t reach it, being sucked into a black hole, not reflecting. If it wasn’t for his proximity she wouldn't even have noticed.

But there it was, resting with an unsettling melody, the wyrd key that opened the gate atop Ramiel, what she needed to get home. She couldn't risk getting it just now, or else he would kill her and all of their efforts would be useless.

“What if I told you that I can bring her back?” He offered and her eyes lifted from the key to his gold orbs. She never knew about the extent of the other Kings powers, if Erawan was that powerful she imagined how powerful Mantyx and Orcus would be.

“You can do it?” She inquired, doubt started to coat her thoughts, she missed Asterin, what if she could see her one last time, or even better, get her back fully?

“You just need to do me a simple favor in return.” She closed her eyes, that was the only way. She shook her head in agreement.

“What do you need?” She opened her eyes, determination burning in that gaze. “I’ll do anything.”

“Bring me Nesta Archeron.” He said and she nodded, Mantyx smiled. His hand extended towards the door that slowly opened to reveal the green island he lived in. “I’ll be waiting for your return.”

Y/N bowed to him, her eyes tracing the key that moved up and down with each breath he gave. She turned around, slowly walking outside, she could still feel his eyes on her when she crossed the bridge, so she didn’t dare to look to where she knew they would be, she kept walking forward until her frame disappeared from his line of sight. Just then she let out the breath she was holding.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel and the others reached her halfway back to the Manor, she hadn't even noticed she had walked so much, her tensed muscles and shivering body were the only indications of the fear she had felt alone in that cabin. Azriel touched her arm, making her spin in her heels, collapsing against his chest. Shuddering breaths left her lips as she tried to calm herself.

“Did he hurt you?” She shook her head and Azriel breathed with relief, his shadows moved around her in a protecting way, ready to strike at anyone who dared get too close to her.

“We should go back, we don’t know what is lurking around in those woods.” Lucien advised, also worried about the fragile form that clung to Azriel for dear life.

They all started to head back, being surprised by the giant wyvern baring his teeth at them, poison dripping from his fangs, he looked anxious, like he felt all of her distress through the connection he shared with his rider, and by the way she pushed Azriel out of the way, stumbling until her chest and forehead were pressed against his nose, he probably felt.

Meraxes instantly relaxed with her touch, sniffing her scent and declaring she was alright. Y/N sobbed against him, her hands rubbing his leathery skin up and down, until she calmed herself down.

“I’m okay, I promise.” She breathed and the wyvern nodded, giving one last look to the males before stepping aside and allowing their access to the house. She let go of him, following the rest of them inside, plopping herself on the couch.

“Why did you go inside? You could be dead now.” Lucien slowly started, worry filled his voice, Y/N had become someone important to him and he couldn’t fathom the idea of her being killed by that damned monster.

“We needed answers.” She simply replied, shrugging.

“And did you get them?” Jurian asked, leaning against the wall that led to the kitchen.

“His name is Mantyx, the middle brother of Erawan and Orcus, a Valg King.” She started, all of the males looked at her. “He was the one who summoned the ridderak that attacked me, he was after Nesta and her powers.”

“Does he have a key?” Azriel asked, his eyebrows furrowed as the engines in his brain worked.

“He carries it around his neck.” Lucien cursed loudly, how would they get it?

“How did you get out?” Jurian once again asked all the right questions.

“I promised him that I would get Nesta.” Azriel's eyes widened. “I just needed to get out to tell you all this, chill.” She said to him, her blue eyes piercing him back in place and he didn’t dare to argue.

“What do we do now?” Lucien inquired, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t know about you, but i’ll have a bath, i’m feeling disgusting.” She said getting up, leaving the males behind her.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her chest ached as she sat in the scalding water, trying to rub all those feelings away from her, but it was useless. She then reached for the book Morrigan had found in the Hewn City, not having time to read it in the trip until now. She opened the book and focused on the fancy handwriting, allowing her brain to shut down from the real world and just pay attention to the words in those pages.

“It was during the night that he came, talking with a sweet voice, promises of a better world and absolution to those who bowed to him and allowed his angels a home. The god of conquest was how they called him.

He brought her, with dark hair and dark eyes, she feeded from life and used the remains to build weapons made of human bones. They called her The Weaver, and her twin, The Bone Carver, one more terrifying than the other. They weren’t angels, they were the gods of death, draining life from the earth and eating our souls.

They talked about how lucky we were, claiming to be princes and princesses from their homeworld. No one knew how they came or where they came from, but all we knew was that it was all related to that necklace, made of a dark stone and with an unknown shape. They had come from the north, many guessed they were a plague sent by the Night Court to terrorise us, but even the High Lord feared them, he couldn't control them, no one could, so they took what they pleased.

It was Celeste Vanserra, the Fireborn that brought us hope, the most powerful fire carrier the world has ever seen. She locked The Bone Carver with the help of the cauldron in the prison first. This made the fae wars easier, but their army was too big to be brought down, so they had to change their strategy.

Divide and conquest is what they called it. They managed to separate The Weaver, and once again, with the help of the cauldron, Celeste and her fire locked Stryga in the woods, in a cabin no one dared to get close to. Whenever a general fell, their army fell with them.

The High Lords followed Celeste to the battlefield, following her command and doing what she said. The final battle was in the lake, where Celeste used her powers to create a fire circle around Koschei and his monsters, trapping him inside, not knowing this was his biggest weakness, her fire was the only thing that could kill him. But before Celeste could, he killed her, piercing her heart with a sword.

The High Lords seeing their strongest fall, decided that they weren’t enough to kill Koschei, so they used the cauldron imbued by their powers to trap his soul to the island. As long as this world still exists, Koschei cannot be killed, his soul is bound to the Earth itself. Only the power of the cauldron or the fire of Celeste can free him from his prison and finally kill him.

With their failure to end the biggest threat our world has ever seen, they erased Celeste’s name from history. If no one remembered her, no one would remember how weak they were compared to Koschei. But her fire was still alive in the blood of her offspring, and the family Vanserra is the closest we have to a chance of killing him, unfortunately those who don’t learn their history tend to repeat it.”

Y/N gasped, the water already cold as she discarded the book and jumped out of the tub, opening the door to her and Azriel’s room. He sat on the bed, eyeing her up and down, following the droplets of water that ran down her curves, but her sombre expression brought his eyes back to her face, ignoring the temptation of looking down.

“What happened?” He asked and she took a deep breath.

“I know how to kill him.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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#azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #moonlightazriel #night court #velaris #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #worlds apart fic

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wingedblooms · 8 months

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Bird of prophecy

I’ve talked a lot about Elain’s connection to the myth of Blodeuwedd, a spring maiden transformed into an owl. A long time ago, I also stumbled across the Gamayun in Slavic mythology, which is associated with other bird-maidens (like Sirin, which comes from the Greek Siren). The Gamayun is a half-bird, half-woman of prophecy. She symbolizes knowledge and wisdom and acts as a divine messenger. This bird-maiden originates from the Huma in Iranian mythology. According to legend, the Huma flies invisibly above the earth and its shadow foretells the next king when there is no heir. It is depicted as a combination of creatures like a mighty griffin. It would be fitting if Elain, who is canonically wise and prophetic, traveled like the Huma: a fusion of animal forms and invisible to all. The Cauldron travels that way, and it would be appropriate (and badass) for a divine messenger to mimic the power it gave her. All those with the gift of Sight we’ve met in the Maasverse—Baba Yellowlegs, the oracle, and shapeshifter mystic—also seem to navigate more than one form, even if it only involves iron teeth and claws. Could Elain also possess her own bird-maiden form as a seer? Or will her flight through time and space remain mental? Only time will tell.

#elain archeron #seer elain #prophetic birds #bird of prophecy #Gamayun #slavic mythology #Huma #Iranian mythology #Cauldron #a force shifting form #like the gods #elainarcheronweek2023 #elain archeron week 2023 #day 1 #elainweek2023 #elain week 2023

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azpizazz · 1 year

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currently rereading throne of glass and the foreshadowing is off the fucking charts

"'Whether you stay, or go to Antica and attend the Torre Cesme and return to save the world,' she mused, 'you should probably learn a thing or two about defending yourself.'" -Celaena to Yrene in TAB

"'I have no name,' she purred. 'I am whoever the keeper of my fates tell me to be." -Celaena to Dorian in TAB

"Yes, she would go- to Rifthold, to anywhere, even through the Gates of the Wyrd and into Hell itself, if it meant freedom." -Page 19 of TOG

"After that, she'd never sworn to trust girls again, especially girls with agendas and power of their own. Girls who would do anything to get what they wanted." -Celaena after meeting Nehemia in TOG (we all know how that ended)

"'You were brought here- all of you were. All the players in the unfinished game. My friends,' he gestured to the dead, 'have told me so.'" -Cain to Celaena at the duel in TOG

"'Name your price.' The woman studied her from head to toe, sniffing once. 'Nameless is my price,' Yellowlegs said. 'But gold will do for now.'" -Baba Yellowlegs to Celaena in COM

"'Sister,' the spider mused. 'I suppose we are sisters, you and I. Two faces of the same dark coin, from the same dark maker. Sisters in spirit, if not in flesh.'" -The spider to Manon in HOF

"'Brannon was born with the bastard's mark- the mark every unclaimed, unwanted child possessed, marking them as nameless, nobody. Each of Brannon's heirs, despite their noble lineage, has since been graced with it- the nameless mark.'" -Maeve to Aelin in HOF

"'That is why you are here tonight, Manon. Because of the threat you pose to that monster you call grandmother. The threat you posed when you chose mercy and saved your rival's life.'" -The Crochan witch to Manon in HOF

"'I am going, Rowan. I will gather the rest of my court-our court-and then we will raise the greatest army the world has ever witnessed. I will call in every favor, every debt owed to Celaena Sardothien, to my parents, to my bloodline. And then...' She looked toward the sea, toward home. 'And then I am going to rattle the stars.'" -Aelin to Rowan in HOF

starting my QOS reread soon but yea... this woman is a genius

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pvrkacciosan · 5 months

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The Heart of the Lioness: ☽⋆30⋆☾

Hearts be Sold

The Heart of the Lioness Masterlist

Previous Part

Enola didn't require more then a second to react as Brielle moved forward, wrapping her spy up in a hug that popped a bubble in her spine, Brielle knew they didn't have long, Connall giving her a much time as possible, so Brielle pulled away after a few seconds.

She stayed holding onto Enola's arms, the female lightly coloured hair, which matched the feathers of her owl form was silken smooth and long, hanging loosely over her shoulders.

"I need you to gather information for me"

Enola's smile met her eyes, beaming widely, "I thought you'd never ask." She too kept grip of Brielle's forearm, eyes wild with a fire of excitement and relief,

"I need you to listen, find out if Maeve knows any other fire wielder's within the world." Brielle sighed heavily, "I don't want to turn to Bronwyn unless I have to."

Enola frowned, "You thinking about world walking to find help?"

Brielle could have chewed up the inside of her own mouth in thought, "I don't know if it would work, but If Aelin needs me to. I'll go." Enola's expression shifted uneasily at the thought, "I don't believe anything good ever comes from world walking." Unease coiled in her gut, The same it had when Baba Yellowlegs had found her in that mountain pass almost a decade ago.

"Yeah well. We need more fire." Brielle had not been able to fall sleep whilst thinking of Aelin's request. If anyone could find a hidden Fire wielder, it would be the Pride. Through any means necessary. "I want it to be a last resort." Going to Isaiah's mate for help, should be their last resort.

A quirk of curiosity shied its way into Enola's expression, "Have you heard much from my brother?" Brielle's thoughts wandered to her twin brother, the almost polar opposite to his sister, The Lord and the Messenger had always been a continent apart, for centuries. Brielle had been unable to unite them, but connect them and communicate for them: She could do.

"Last I heard he was wandering close to Terrasen's southern borders. Stirring up a rebellion there no doubt."

Enola finally nodded, moving to go back towards the window when the conversation shifted,

"I also need you to take this" Brielle reached into a drawer at the desk, Enola extended a hand to take it,

"You know what to do with it."

Enola flipped it, seeing the Lioness' paw print on the other side of the envelope she nodded. She turned for the window, exhaling deeply into the cool breeze blowing in from outside. Before a flash of light consumed the room, the owl hovered beating its wings to stay steady in the air.

Brielle met her eyes, "Stay safe."

Enola's eyes narrow, snapping her beak once, as though to remind Brielle that she had gotten this far, with a couple beats of her wings, Enola dropped from the window, letting the updraft of wind catch her wings, driving herself into a dive when she tucked them to her side. Her small body vanishing in the shadow that crested the side of the building.

Brielle pulled the window shut, Enola could take care of herself. Her brother more so. She turned back towards the bed in the middle of her room.

She would spend the next few hours sieving through reports from the coastal fight at the Marshes. It was vital, she knew it in her bones, but she was yet to find something that could give her leverage.

She got through one paper before Connall appeared once more, shutting the door softly behind him. Brielle sat up from her place on the floor, moving the papers around from her lap.

"Did she suspect anything?"

Connall dropped to the ground beside her, taking up more space as he outstretched his legs. Fucking Fae males and their height.

"You're messing up my organised piles," she leaned forward to slap his leg lightly,

Connall chuckled lowly at the back of his throat, rolling onto his back, and onto the pile she had already been through— mixing the papers up. Brielle dropped the page from her hand, scowling at the male,

"Don't think she caught on." he rolled over them again and finally sat up. Brielle had already scrunched up a random half blank page and chucked it at his face when he rightened himself up.

"Hey!" he tried to swat it away when it smacked him,

"You are going to help sort through all of these" she hissed, already moving to re-right the pages in their piles.

Connall chuckled once more, before he began helping. Watching her as they cleaned up together.

Brielle had arisen before sunrise, moving through the dark to the camp surrounding the city. She didn't expect any of the group to be there by the time she arrived at the fighting pit in the centre of the camp.

But she would admit to that shock when the whole group stood around watching each other warm up at her arrival. They all stopped, some panting for breathe, Regrouping they watched her approach in silence. Perhaps curious to why the Commander of Maeve's spy court had overtaken their training. They all looked cold to hell in their training clothes, despite their bodies steaming from their own warm up.

Brielle scanned each of them, trying to commit the details of their faces to memory. She paused on the female who's face was already engraved into her memories. There was the urge to ask them of their names, but apart of her, perhaps the only sane part left, refused to go through the pain of knowing them should she come to fighting them. Having to kill them.

"Lets get started."

The group didn't move, Brielle walked forward. Clasping her hand together, Today she wasn't the Lioness, or a commander. She was a teacher, hoping to impart her wisdom to them, should they be smart enough to pay attention.

"I want to assess each of you." She stepped closer to the middle fighting ring, gesturing to the space before her "Who's up first?" she beckoned with an arm when none of them moved from their places. A horde of status, She huffed a deep sigh.

It might have become a reoccurring theme for their paths to cross one another; The female who's face Brielle had already fully committed to memory the moment she had managed to land a punch. Stepping forward from the group she already had a hardened expression stoning her features. The group parted and watched her walk away from them,

Everyone of them watched her intently, looks of longing following her as she drew closer to the fighting pit. If Brielle could gain her trust, she might just convince the others to follow.

Brielle eased back a few paces, opening the ring to the female. As she took that final step over the barrier, foot planting into the sand. Brielle moved. There was no point to play a waiting game between them, no time to let her prepare. The fates of those who hesitate in a fight was already decided for them, Death is simple it doesn't discriminate.

The female looked stunned reeling back on her weight with widening eyes as Brielle threw the first punch. The blow hit dead on its mark, the warriors in the group surrounding them inhaled sharply at the sound that rippled within their friends shoulder.

It sagged low out the socket, Brielle swung again, attentively watching how the limb stiffened in the females attempt to ease the next blow. She hissed though tightly clenched teeth, twisting to guard her face with her working arm. She was quick to drive that elbow back. Brielle had preempted this, she swung back on her heels, narrowly avoiding the strike that would have send her temple throbbing.

The female dropped and rolled across the ground avoiding Brielle, began supporting the unmoving arm as she back up to the edge of the circle.

"Why did you come back? Word is you all betrayed for some foreign child who claims to be fae royalty." She breathed heavily, circling the fighting pit. Her words lacked the bite Brielle was looking for, choosing to ignore the insult that had been directed for Aelin, Brille stayed still.

She watched, from the centre of the ring, listening to the crunch of sand beneath the feet of her opponent,

"Some say the Lioness has a mate-" Brielle tracked her movement watching over the curve of her own shoulder, " in Doranelle. One which she has come back for." The words were heavier than any punch this female would every throw.

Brielle allowed her magic to coil, welcomed its warmth in her hands from deep within her, it poured fueling a heat inside her chest.

The female now stalking dangerously close didn't seem to notice the tang of power. The group around the ring shifted unsteadily watching from every angle of the fight. Brielle turned over her shoulder, magic reeling around her form. Tracking the female with her eyes low. The magic shadowed her.

"Yeah" her own voice cracked the early morning air. The female paused, now positioned directly before the Lioness. Brielle drew her chin up, felt a muscle in her jaw tick "Maeve has Fenrys Moonbeam locked up beneath the castle."

The group paused, the female was stunned into silence, a pre-natural stillness at the realisation that Brielle had denied nothing, was so wrapped up in this new truth she hadn't felt the magic taking root around her ankles, climbing through ever vein and cell within her; an ivy that tightened a deathly grip.

By the time she startled at its presence, stumbling back to look down at herself. Before she could realise the rising pounding in her head was force upon her by the Lioness; her vision blurred followed quickly by a trickle of blood that drained from her nose.

Brielle eagerly watched, allowing more power to flow through her, from her. When the female swayed on unstable feet, Brielle breezed no more then half a stride. A well positioned strike knocked the female backwards onto her ass, sprawling to crawl away in the sand.

The commander did not advance further.

"That's cheating!" the female spat out, blinking wildly at the blood on her hand once she wiped the space between her nose and upper lip.

"Did I explain any rules?" The whole group stayed silent in response of Brielle's question. "Didn't think so. In a fight never assume your enemy won't go to any length to kill you."

Brielle allowed a paused for her words to be heard, let them strike the group hard with their weight, turning back to the female she tracked her magic— let it pool and pour into her sagging shoulder. "You're out." The females expression had infused to an ashen colour under Brielle's stare.

With her words of finality, Brielle eased to face the main group once more, clicking her fingers she let her power snap the females dislocated joint back into place.

Brielle waited for the screaming and cries of agony to diminish behind her before addressing the group, "So, Who's next?"

For the next hour Brielle fought ever member of the group, To their best efforts they threw everything they had in their set of skills at her. But every time she still came out standing. After they all went once, she made them go a second time, hopeful for some improvement.

She was highly disappointed.

"I though Maeve's captains might have trained you to at least defend yourself for longer then each of you lasted." She strides a step towards them, "Clearly they do not hold your lives in such a high regard."

Half the group had already sought refuge on the solid ground, their limbs too heavy to hold their own weight up, others sat further away, still within earshot, attending to their injuries. At her words, heads swiveled to scowl in her direction, she flicked a hand at them.

"Be here again tomorrow, same time."

Their expressions only darkened at her directions, lips pulled back in half snarls they didn't quite commit to. Brielle stayed long after they left, stalling to watch them all walk or limp away. This might be more difficult than she thought.

The next morning was cooler then the last. This time around, Brielle stood waiting at the edge of the camp's main training field for the group to arrive.

When they spotted her form, bundled in clothes that would shield her from the chilling bite to the air, but not an easy outfit to fight in they couldn't help but stare on in confusion. She was not dressed for fighter, or even training for that matter. They didn't drop their frowns even as they slowed on their approach.

Brielle smiled softly, counting each member silently in her mind, she hadn't lost anyone from yesterdays session— yet. They stopped before, shuffling out so they could all watch her from where they stood.

"After yesterday. I've decided upon a different approach." she dropped the smile,

She couldn't ignore the resentment that began to line across each of their faces. It was an art form to not scoff at that fact. They would have to learn to live with that resentment because after today, they certainly weren't going to like her.

The group didn't speak a word, as one by one they seemed to track a movement behind her. Brielle smiled at Connall as he stilled slowly to a stop beside her. He returned the expression, extending the reins of the mare he lead out to her. The Horse adjusted her stance as Brielle pulled her closer.

Connall nodded to her once, eyeing up the group with an amused expression that pulled his face into a smile that hurt Brielle's chest. It was an expression Fenrys wore with pride when around her, Brielle glanced to the ground at her feet. She was doing this to help him, hep them all. She needed to focus.

When she looked back up, Connall had already began to walk back along the path he had taken to arrive in the field.

Brielle ignored the groups uneasy glances, they blinked at one another while she fitted one foot into a stirrup, grabbing for the pommel at the front of the saddle, Brielle pulled herself up mounting onto the mare's back.

If she had to break this group to square one in order to build them back up, then so be it. Kicking the mare into a quick trot, she spoke over her shoulder,

"Keep up." As she began setting the pace, the mare throwing her head backwards as Brielle controlled her speed, she smiled at the sound of footfall beyond the noise of the hoofs below her.

After every ten minutes that passed with the group following, Brielle leading them on a run around the camps surrounding the whole city, she began to quicken the pace. Continued to push them all to the point of which their immortal speed began to eat away at their energy.

By the time the whole group made it back, they had fallen into each other, collapsing onto the ground and leaning into each other in exhaustion, seeking support when Brielle offered none. Dismounting she gripped the reins at her side, giving the mare a few scratches along her nose.

"Meet an hour later tomorrow."

When she had nothing more to say to the group, who looked about ready to fall asleep where they dropped. Brielle led the mare away feeling the scathing looks that were shot at her back. She didn't react to a single one of them.

Brielle repeated the same session the next day and the next, and the day after that and the two following that. During each session she made then go faster, pushing them to run further and each day they started an hour later then the last. Many passing warriors stopped to stare at the Lioness astride the dark chestnut mare, leading the front of the group.

The routine never changed once, neither did the groups dislike for her. But they never utter any words in protest despite the swearing and mumbles of exhaustion when their bodies were pushed to near breaking point day after day. In the opposite their distaste for her only seemed to grow the more time she spent with them.

Brielle waited at the outer edge of the camp's training field, watching the other groups as they trained, honing their bodies to become the ultimate weapon. She didn't recall how long she stood observing. It had become somewhat of a ritual to watch the other groups, to the details of how they treated others around them.

A broad shouldered male in the third mat, showed zero to no mercy to his fellow warriors, laughing as he kicked them to black and blue, disregarding that they looked about ready to tap out. Brielle glanced down to make a note in the parchment she kept concealed inside her pocket. Folding it once she finished her writings for the day, turning she moved off toward the side her group had claimed a corner. A quiet side where she could easily watch them train.

She slowed in her pace upon noticing the general absence of the whole group. They had never been a group who's time management was particularly bad unlike some warriors she has trained in the past. Perhaps they had finally decided to forgo her training, their dislike for her having won over. Brielle knew it was only a matter of time, but she had hoped for a day or two more.

She slowed to almost a stop to scan the open empty section of the field. Brielle moved to search for the group else where in the camp when a familiar female figure darted out from behind the supply tent at that edge of their corner. She was the youngest and the smallest person in the group, she had gotten to be one of the fastest but even now she stumbled in her dash.

When she pushed off the ground with both palms, dragging herself upright her eyes locked onto Brielle, who had begun in her direction once more.

Brielle continued to close the gap between them, in the same moments as two male figure Brielle didn't recognised burst from the direction the female had come from.

As if the scent alone wasn't enough to expose the female hammering panic, Brielle's brush of her magic across the females body was enough to skyrocket herself to scowl at the males.

When the female finally reached her, uttering not a word beyond her panic pants and terrified expression that seemed to pull the lines of her face taut under its tension ageing her about five years. She hide behind Brielle's frame. Through her clothing she felt the female clutch the fabric covering her back, Her warm breath still anting against her spine.

The males were grinning, a sleezy smile that only reminded Brielle of one other— Cairn. Squaring out her shoulders, blocking the female entirely from their view.

"Where is that wench—" the shorter of the two males barked his words, that smile never once leaving him. It had become clear the excitement on his face flipped Brielle's stomach.

The female tightened her already balled fists further into Brielle's back.

"Stop hiding you little bitch" the other males side-stepped to glance around Brielle, The Lioness mirrored him, keeping the female behind her hidden.

"She deserves a good beating, No one tells me no."

A spark of power shot to the surface, tingling into her fingers. Brielle smiled a simple gesture which only seemed to anger the males further, when he lurched forward in an effort to swing around Brielle and grab the female, he was thrown back smacking into a force of power.

"I will give you both one chance to walk away" There was no bite in her tone, almost beckoning them to chance their luck. The shorter of the two glanced to his friend on the floor, brow shot up into his hairline, a dagger slid down into his hand, Brielle waited for him to wield it.

It was simple to attach her magic to the nerves in his harm. So when he reeled an arm back to throw the dagger, Brielle leashed in her power, electrical signals were rerouted in his nervous system. His arm swung low, hand twisting to stab the dagger into his own thigh.

His howl of pain only seemed to draw attention. Hands flying to his leg, he wrapped a hand around the dagger blade, blood coating his hands within seconds. At least he was smart enough to not pull it out in pained panic, for she had aimed straight for his artery.

"Commander Brielle." The one on the ground, lip bleeding seethed her title.

Brielle mustered the sweetest smile she could, bowing slightly at the waist, "The one and only."

Keeping bowed, Brielle glanced up through the cover of her lases, allowed for that small swirl of power that had wrapped itself around her wrist to evade into the space before the male. His nostrils flared at the hint of magic, Kicked at the ground when it's heat licked up his leg curling around the boned curve of his ankle. The power pulling itself into the muscle, seizing it within its painful grasp, cramping the muscle.

He cried out, swaying to his feet hauling his companion's arm around his shoulder, Brielle smirked when he almost dropped his friends weight when her power constricted his muscles like a snake around its prey. They limped away together, The commander waited for them to skitter off the side of the field before turning to address the female behind her.

The small warrior now before her, had hidden from danger. Cowered away just as Brielle had taught them to do the opposite. The female flinched when Brielle settled her stare on her, Down casting her gaze with a wince to avoid the scrutinising look she assumed the commander now shot her way.

She hadn't expected the gentle comforting stroke of a hand against her hair, smoothing down across the side of her face. She couldn't stop herself from blinking at the Lioness in surprise.

"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" there was a command and worry in Brielle's tone that she didn't try to hide, worrying for the younger Fae before her. She continued to gape, jaw falling lose as she stuttered for a response, nodding when the words did not formulate themselves.

"Elle!"

Brielle dropped her hand to the jutting bone of Elle's shoulder, marking the movement of the group that slowed in their haste to the duo's side.

Elle shot an unsure glance between Brielle and the group, The Commander narrowed her stare at the remaining group, folding her arms across her chest.

"You're all late. Where have you been?" Somewhere within her worry Brielle had misplaced her anger, the power still thundering under her surface cracked into the air like an uncontrolled storm cloud of lightening, the group backed slightly into one another "Why did not one of you come to her aid whilst those bastards hunted her." For that is what they had been doing, animals playing with their next meal.

The group startled, confusions rippled across their faces. Brielle waited a beat, expected a response.

"They-" Elle hesitated, eyes flicking back and forth between her friends and the commander. She began picking the skin on her fingers. Brielle marked the switch in the group, finally noticed the blood and bruises that littered across faces and bodies.

Whipping back to Elle, Brielle carefully pried the females hands apart, Elle's eyes were bloodshot when they flicked to meet her own.

"They were distracting the others. So I could get away." Brielle didn't need to get any confirmation, not when the evidence was marred across them, their bodies made to look lie canvases of blooming colours.

The Lioness straightened, "Who is these 'others' ?"

"It's another one of the units, Captained by Zakurio"

She thought as much, remembering the vile Captain from the first ship she ventured into in the marshes the night before . . . Everything. Brielle swallowed ignoring the memories from that beach, She subtly rubbed two fingers along the ridge from the scar on her abdomen.

Brielle nodded, turning from the group to face the rest of the field, she wasn't going to pry into their secrets, Stealing and forcing them to come out was not a way to gain trust. Brielle needed them to want to tell her, to trust her enough to do so.

"You are all dismissed. Training is cancelled for the day." She began marching for the line of tents surrounding the camp's training field.

"What are we supposed to do then?" an uncertain voice of a male called out behind her, reaching for the retreating commander.

"Drink, Gamble, Fuck I don't particularly care, Just stay away from that other unit." Her words were final, they were also the only ones that managed to make it through the barrier of her barreling thoughts. A calculating spiral of secrets and schemes the Gods of this world themselves wouldn't be able to predict.

Later that day when the group ventured into the city walls, in search of a tavern to spend their afternoon, to enjoy their time with one another, They hadn't anticipated the silence that would greet them upon arrival.

They also hadn't expected for Zakurio's other unit laying half lifeless in the middle of the tavern, other patrons in the building had moved to the corners of the room, edging from the events that had spiralled moments before the groups arrival.

They frowned at the unit on the ground, many of them in various stages of unconsciousness.

Brielle nodded at her group, dusting both hands off on the muscle of her thigh. Stepping over the bodies at her feet, leaving the carnage in her wake, She strolled past the group stunned into surprise by the door. Easing around them to leave. The silence eating up the room's shock.

The next day when the training resumed as normal, the group uttered not a complaint or shot a soured expression as the Lioness made them run double their usual amount.

Brielle dragged both hands down her face, she wasn't nearing a burnout but she could feel the well of power tugging her into a draught of exhaustion.

Hunting down the unit and acquainting herself with them in the tavern had been the most thrilling thing she had done since being released a couple weeks ago. She couldn't shake the guilt that ate away, a raw feeling that made her mind numb to the most basic of interactions.

Her body yearned for the touch of her mates, The company of his brother only made the ache grow. Connall knew, there was no way he couldn't. Not when there was moments when Brielle couldn't meet his gaze, or be around his presence, it only aided in making the pain in her chest triple.

The hallways leading to their sleeping quarters was deathly quiet, as it so often was. Not many people had reason to venture down here, especially since the room occupants hadn't returned. Brielle's heart throbbed while she passed the fading scent of her brother, his door meters from her own.

Looking to the door of her room now, Brielle stilled. The door swung ajar, despite her locking it ever time she left, She crept along the wall, hugging her body into it to avoid the creaking floorboards in the middle line of the hall.

Pulling her magic from the dept of that well, Brielle pushed the door open wide. Freezing in the doorway at the sight that filled and greeted her like a strike to the jaw.

Connall's eyes flared wide when she spotted him. She honed her attention in on the knife held to his throat, it tightened when he shifted to be closer to her.

She didn't need to look to know who held it there. Not hen she had gifted that knife to him. Isaiah's expression was emotionless, displaying nothing beyond the void it had become to be. A shadow of the male he had once been.

Power weighed into her hands a she leveled her gaze to the figure sat on the edge of her bed. Cairn was grinning, chuckling as he flipped through a stack of papers in his lap.

"Well, Look what we have here"

Every cell of blood left her feeling cold as Cairn's excited expression met hers, holding the captains reports up for her to see.

The Lioness failed to keep her mind calm, giving way to the rising panic when she realised Cairn had found all the reports under her bed. She couldn't breath past the lump in her throat, tried to swallow it away.

"This is going to be fun."

Cairn's voice made ever scar left by him on her body seize.

. . .

Taglist: @dreamiezpsycho @lunaralaraspace @mis-lil-red @mali22 @the-fae-are-taking-over

Next Part

#throne of glass #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x o.c #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #aelin #gavriel #rowan #sarah j mass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction

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theladyofbloodshed · 1 year

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So, I have a question. I am planning a new series with following a certain mythology. I know a lot of readers drag sjm through the mud about stealing names from mythologies (including myself), like the names of gods/goddess & places, and not coming up with none on her own.

How should I combat that?

Is it a tad bit better to come up with all new names and places but keep the mythology lore?

I am trying to avoid being like sjm. (Also, I am asking a bunch of other tumblrs this question so you might see it around).

Long post incoming...

I think the issue with some of sjm's mythology is that she rips it away from certain cultures and then does nothing with it or warps it to the point where she should have just invented her own name e.g. Morrigan is famous in Irish folklore as three sisters (who are also all the same goddess) who is associated with war, she can be seen washing the armour of soldiers who will die that day. She's also famous for trying to seduce/end Cuchulainn who was battling Queen Maeve. There is no way sjm just came up with the name, because there are some similarities with acotar mor... but then we've never actually seen her power in 5 books.

She just takes random bits from lots of different cultures. Acotar was supposedly inspired by Outlander which is set in Scotland. The Ballad of Tam Lin is also Scottish (but acotar really is not similar to it). We have Rhys/Amren/Nuala/Cerridwen which are all Welsh names. But then I've seen people interpret Nuala and Cerridwen as POC because sjm is so vague (not to say welsh people cannot be poc, but the clothing they - and feyre - first wear is more like Jasmine from aladdin). Morrigan is Irish. Azriel is Hebrew. Cassian is Latin. Nesta is Welsh. Elain is Welsh. Eris is Greek. Lucien is French. Puca are celtic. The bogge comes from old english for the bogeyman. The Weaver is based on strzyga which are slavic. Baba Yellowlegs is a rip off of baba yaga also from slavic folklore. Koschei is also a slavic legend along with the Firebird. Heck, just look at the Slovenian flag and you'll see three mountains with three stars above it. I've seen people theorise that Thurr is CC is like Thor and CC will be the norse ragnarok.

Calan Mai is a Welsh festival and the acotar version is a bastardisation of it. Fires are lit to ward off spirits and banish disease the night before. On the day, farmers traditionally took their animals out to pastures and singing/drinking happened to give thanks for a good season. A May Queen and King would be crowned and the village green opened. SJM took Calan Mai from welsh traditions and turned it into a giant orgy (of course). Thunderbirds are important to Native American mythology and sjm has just taken that yet again for a character. I've only read cc2 once but I feel like there was no description of Sofie whatsoever.

It's not wrong to borrow from mythologies and folklore. These stories have existed for thousands of years for a reason. My issue is the strange amalgamation of shoving so many together and snipping only the "nice" bits e.g. the Morrigan can transform into an eel and she loses an eye at one point and transforms into an old woman. Sjm cant have ugly main characters!

I think try and be consistent with the mythologies e.g. don't mix lots of different ones together if you're using "real" names because I don't think they gel well - this is my friend Thor, his brother Apollo, and their friend Anubis. There are sooooo many mythology/folklore books out there. I have a whole shelf because I love it. There are also so many websites. Delve into less commonly known mythologies/stories. Alternatively, be inspired by them and come up with your own creations. Or, come up with your own lore in general :-)

Ultimately, you are telling the story you want to write. Do what is best for you!

#anon asks

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pearblossommina · 1 year

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ToG Read-a-Long, Queen of Shadows, day 9

I’m so normal about this chapter set you guys

Ch 52

"Not yet," he said roughly, his own breathing uneven. "Not now.”

BOO

BOOOOOOO

Rowan you TEASE. How dare you.

Please, my crops, they’re so dry. Please. Chomp down on her neck. Mark her up, be a beast, I know you want to do it, SO DO IT! You think Aedion has never heard the sound of people having sex in the next room?!? It’s fine! He’s a big boy, he’ll get over it!

You can be as loud as the hell you want when you’re making love, don’t let the neighbors stop you from having fun; they’ll have peace and quiet when you’re good and done.

Ch 53

AGAIN?!?

(SJM: hey are you turned on? Excited to read a chapter about Rowan and Aelin dancing around the idea of maybe potentially consummating?)

(Me: yeah yeah gimme gimme!)

(SJM: *writes about Dorian filled with doom and gloom and sorrow instead*)

(Me: *sigh*)

Who edited this. Who let her get away with this. I need to know where to send the bill for my whiplash.

Ch 54

Heyyyy well this is a surprise

Kaltain beat back the demon

(With fire) (mmmm)(sounds good I’m pretty sure we can muster some fire)

Good job Kaltain, can you tell our baby boy Dorian!

Ch 55

Lysandra god damn it

How dare you get kidnapped, my crops are turning to dust in the field and I’m so thirsty, I can’t be concerned for you right now

You better not be about to be killed violently like Nehemia

(I can’t keep going through all this intensity) (I CAN’T)(my feelings are all over the place)(what is even going ON)

Ch 56

I feel like I am actually being pranked right now

There is no way

There is no way she can keep getting away with this

Is the next chapter going to be another sad Dorian chapter, SMH

how much longer can these two possibly hold out! Another temptation and another postponement… yeesh

Ch 57

I’m getting so sick of all the war and high stakes stuff happening in this book

I AM IN HELL

Like genuinely I can tell this is important and I should care about what’s going on right now and yet, HEAD EMPTY, DON’T CARE

I WISH I CARED

BUT I DON’T

Ch 58

Plot!

I care a little bit

It made me kinda excited when Dorian managed to talk in his own voice, Dorian, what the hell have you been waiting for? The right moment when Aelin happened to be watching?

Lol

Is grandmother Matron fucking the king?

Probably not, since he has a wife

I just want to see Manon eat everybody, actually

Ch 59

My how the turn tables, CHAOL WANTS TO KILL DORIAN NOW

Chaol, are you fucking kidding me? This whole time you have been the only one holding onto hope

How could you let your hopes die now? Don’t you believe in good triumphing over evil? Weren’t you fighting for a better world, for humanity or whatever? What happened, Chaol? I thought you were on my side.

I thought we were doofuses together

Don’t leave me here to be a doofus by myself

I find Manon so sexy especially how she just effortlessly holds Chaol captive. I still think Baba Yellowlegs is the silliest name for any villain, it just rolls off the tongue in such a funny way. Shouldn’t Manon be glad that Baba Yellowlegs died, though? I mean maybe it’s bad when a witch dies because they’re so strong, but the fact that she died is what caused her and the other clans to join together and rival for a new Wing Leader, sooooo actually, Aelin did you a service, baby. If you look at the bright side. If you are capable of looking at the bright side.

Lol

Yeah! fight each other

Hot!

Ch 60

“If he had been one inch farther behind, it would have hit his heart.”

Aw shit be careful Rowan! You can’t be out here getting mortally wounded! I am so sick of it! Get your act together, what do you think this is, an action novel? NO, dummy, it’s a steamy romance, I don’t have time for your bleeding heart heroics! Literally!

The Manon x Aelin fight is pretty hot actually

I am here for it

Guys this chapter set gave me hell

IT GAVE ME HELL

It wasn’t a very LONG set but boy was it hard for me to pay attention lmao, and I KNEW, I KNEW the stuff happening after the Rowaelin tease was important but I was like what the actual fuck is this! Get back in bed! No! I hate myself - I hate everything!

#it’s hard out here for a rowaelin shipper #it’s like the Great Depression era dust bowl now #my crops are dead and I’m begging for it #a small sprinkle of rain #ugh #tog read along 2023 #queen of shadows

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ignite-stars · 2 years

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a random manon blurb because i’m in love w her. anyways, reader is mentioned as aelin’s sister, so described to have the ashryver eyes. ( this is another fic idea that i have. )

The scent loitering in the air was glorious. Night-chilled vanilla with a hint of fresh snow in the later autumn months. It smelled like the depths of the winter night skies while touring through the stars. The scent ebbed away at the anger pulsing in Manon’s veins, almost providing the same calming affects of opium.

The Witch Killer was beneath her, bleeding before her eyes. And yet the scent was enough to draw her attention elsewhere, despite the rich Fae life pulsing beneath her iron nails.

Her golden eyes tore from Aelin Galathynius as a scream of horror and outrage guttered through the ravine. It wasn’t Asterin this time, who roared at her. Nor was it the Fae Prince with an arrow jutting from his shoulder.

Manon’s gaze, full of bloodlust, locked upon a set of turquoise eyes— golden-flecked around the pupil. And hidden in those eyes was the fury that Manon found equally as terrifying as her own.

You gazed back at her with revenge promised in your screams. You had searched for your sister for nineteen years, and you weren’t letting her go. Not again.

Manon tilted her head to the side, intrigue buried in her voice as she teased Aelin, “a sister? Interesting. I’ve heard justice is always promised through emotion, perhaps I’ll sink my teeth into her pretty little neck— slow and painful— depending on how you killed Baba Yellowlegs that is,”

Aelin thrashed against Manon, causing the ironteeth witch to grin devilishly with her blood-coated teeth.

She hadn’t tasted fear like this in a long while.

#throne of glass #tog #manon blackbeak x reader #manon blackbeak #aelin galythinius #i love manon sm ahh

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sydneymack · 11 months

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Throne of Glass Characters (Part 3)

Artist: @courtmakes_art

#nestaq #nesryn faliq #sartaq #elide lochan #captain rolfe #sorcha #king of adarlan #dorian havilliard sr #baba yellowlegs #maeve #duke perrington #tog #throne of glass #sjmaas

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manonblaqkbeak · 10 months

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"I hear rumours every now and then that the power still exists on other continents, but not here."

You can still Sarah was still working on her world building/lore with this line said by Baba Yellowlegs in Crown of Midnight because in the next book it's like "hello yes there's a whole nation of magic users an ocean away"

#throne of glass series #crown of midnight

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silkiemae · 1 year

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Crown of Midnight by Sarah J Maas

My rating 3.25/5

What I'm about to say shocks me as much as I'm sure it will shock you...but I didn't hate this book. There were plenty of aspects about it that enraged me but I was entertained through a large majority of it and was very entertained by all the world building. I loved learning about the Witch Kingdom and the Crochan witches. I thought the funhouse mirror fight scene with Baba Yellowlegs was really cool. I thought the fight with that demon creature in the library basement was also great. This book proved to me that Sarah J Maas absolutely can write good action scenes if she chooses to. So what the hell happened in ACOWAR?

I really enjoyed Dorian's entire character arc. While I didn't love him in the first book, I loved reading about him struggling with this newfound power and struggling to keep it a secret. I would love for so much more of it. While I thought the first half of the book was incredibly dry and just ridiculous, I enjoyed the second half far more but there are so many things I wish were different about it. *cough* Nehemia's death *cough*

Straight away, I was annoyed with Celaena. This book picks up a few months after Celaena became the King's Champion. Despite the fact that she is treated like an employee of the king and has a handmaiden, a luxuriant room of her own and a dog, she is still a prisoner, but she does not act like one at all. She's meant to be off killing targets the king sends her to assassinate, and at first I was really excited to read about Celaena being ruthless, but it's later revealed that she is letting these people live and fake their deaths. I thought it was a huge bummer because it would have been really cool to see Celaena finally do something truly self-serving rather than spend all of her money on clothing. It makes more sense to me that she would be truly willing to do whatever it took to earn her freedom from the king, as in doing whatever he said while simultaneously looking for another way out of her agreement. I loved the reactions that Chaol and Dorian had when she showed up in court with a severed head. I liked the idea of that dynamic change in their relationships where she finally shows the kind of person she is, and they realize that they, in fact, do not like her. It would’ve been a really interesting thing to explore. But then, it’s revealed that Celaena is not actually killing her targets. I was so unbelievably disappointed in this. I did however love that when Chaol sees her finally go off and slaughter a bunch of people his thoughts about her shift and he's like terrified of her. But like, what did you expect Chaol? You knew who she was from the beginning.

Celaena talked in the last book about how she wanted to use her outrageous salary she earns from the king to move far away and be free but then we're told she's spending every single copper on clothing and books. And I just find that so stupid and irresponsible. Yes, I know Celaena loves clothes and books, and yes, I know she’s 18 years old, but that doesn’t change the fact that she was trained to be an assassin from age 8 to 17. There is no way that Arobynn allowed any room for weakness if he was cruel enough to force her to break her own hand so that she could be equally as good at swordplay with her less dominant hand. Or string her up so that she has to sit for days in her own filth until she can free herself. I feel like he would have seen her childish obsession with clothing as a weakness, and he would not have allowed it. So it doesn’t make much sense to me that she’s stupid enough to waste all her money on clothing when she could be saving it for her future hideaway. She doesn’t even need to spend money on books when she has that monstrous library in the castle! Why not have Philippa make your clothing for you? I am more than positive that the castle has seamstresses that could just as easily make Celaena beautiful gowns rather than spending every single copper she has on it. The irony was that she talked shit about Arobynn for blowing all the money she made for him, but here she is doing the same exact thing.

I’ve read that a lot of people hate Chaol, and you know, I just don't really care about him at all. He's as exciting as mayonaisse to me. In book one, I thought he and Celaena had more chemistry than she did with Dorian, but it was still super bland. I think their chemistry is better here but still leaves much to be desired. When Celaena gets poisoned and is blindly running to the safest place she can think of and ends up in front of Chaol, I was into that a lot. His anger over his worry for her felt fitting and gave him some much-needed personality. But he has some uncomfy possessive thoughts that are making me withhold any further judgment until I see some more from him. I like the whole idea of Celaena being a reluctant heroine. Like I can respect the whole wanting to run away and live in peace with your lover after living a life of brutality, I can be down with that. And I knew that someone’s death was coming to instigate her to actually get involved with the war or whatever but I wish it had been Chaol instead of Nehemia. Not because I hate Chaol or anything but because I think Nehemia had so much more to offer to the story as a character. She was smart and strong and had power. She could have taught Celaena and Dorian so much more but she had to die to further the white main’s story arc? I think she could have had the exact same story arc if Chaol had died and she had been motivated by his death to seek revenge. Imagine Nehemia and Celaena through the next books being a powerful duo. But no.

Another one of the things that irritates me so much about Celaena is that initially, we’re told that she spent all this time building up her reputation with no one ever actually seeing her face. So everyone knows how dangerous and lethal Celaena Sardothien is, but they have no idea that she is this eighteen-year-old girl before them. But then Celaena goes and just starts blabbing to everyone(Nehemia and Nox) who she is. Then in this book, while she has breakfast in bed with Nehemia(seriously, why does the king allow her so much freedom?) she literally blabs everything to her about the secret passage she discovered and the fact that she’s not actually killing the targets the king sends her to kill(and she tells Chaol which was BEYOND stupid). But the thing is, Nehemia literally just told her she shouldn’t trust anyone and here Celaena is blabbing everything out. Girl, you are well aware there are secret passages in this castle, do you think you’re the only one who knows about them? Because if Cain can find them, if you can find them, so can others. And what if someone was hiding in that passage listening to your conversation? She doesn’t think before she says or does anything and it makes the ‘world’s greatest assassin’ so hard to believe. And then in the end this all comes around to bite her in the ass. I evil laughed when I found out that Nehemia was relaying everything Celaena told her to the rebel group and was working with them. And when it turned out she knew about the secret passageways and hid the ridderak's body. Like she told Celaena from the beginning but Celaena was too naive to figure it out herself.

I find the way Celaena behaves so odd most of the time. Like, does she realize that despite no longer being imprisoned in the salt mines she is still in fact a prisoner? Like she is still living in the same house as the guy who had her whipped and locked her away and she has no choice but to work for him. She just doesn’t really show the kind of initiative I would expect someone so determined to win their freedom to have. I respect wanting to have a character who you know is more good than bad or whatever but that just doesn’t work for the kind of person Celaena should be. That should be buried down so deep by this point that when it comes out, she views it as a weakness. Like the fact that she’s all glowing and happy about boning Chaol was so weird to me. I felt like she should be focusing more on finding a way to get her actual freedom and maybe kill the king instead of eating chocolate in bed with Nehemia and flirting with Chaol and standing guard at balls. Like....it took me ages to read this book because I kept getting bored in between every part I was actually interested in.

I already mentioned this earlier but I think Nehemia's death was such a mistake. Not only did SJM off the ONLY POC character in this story but she also killed the only character that I actually liked. Nehemia had so much potential to really shine and become a powerhouse of a rebel princess but no. She had to literally engineer her own death in the hopes she could push Celaena into getting off her ass and doing something. I hate that so much. Nehemia read almost everyone to filth in this book and she is forever a queen in my book. Literally the best character Sarah J Maas has ever created.

Fleetfoot deserves better. Not only does Celaena hardly give that poor dog the time of day but she almost left her behindfor a demon to eat. Then when she gets sent to Wendlyn she pulls a Jon Snow and leaves her behind again with the POS who was going to kill her in the first place because he didn't like her temperament. Like oh my god, Celaena. You are the worst dog owner ever.

Despite all my complaints, this is probably my favorite SJM book that I've read yet. I hope the rest of the series is as interesting but with less predictable plots. We all saw it coming that Celaena was the lost princess, although I did think her randomly becoming a faerie was so out of left field. Still, I knew it was coming, and it was fun to see Chaol be like

after finding out he sent the lost faerie queen to the faeries.

#Sarah j maas #crown of midnight #throne of glass #rant review #book review #bookworm #book rant

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anotherenglishmajorxo · 5 years

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I have a feeling that Baba Yellowlegs isn’t who she says she is...I’m on to her...

#book thoughts #crown of midnight #throne of glass series #sarah j. maas #baba yellowlegs

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wingedblooms · 1 year

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The Ancients

This is a Maasverse post, and as such, there are spoilers for all Maas series. Proceed with caution.

“I’m afraid I can’t be of service,” Mort sniffed. “If you want an instant answer, you should find yourself a seer or an oracle.”

Celaena slowed her pacing. “You think if I read this to someone with the gift of clairvoyance, they might be able to … see some different meaning that I’m missing?”

“Perhaps. Though as far as I know, when magic vanished, those with the gift of Sight lost it, too.”

“Yes, but you’re still here.”

“So?” Celaena looked at the stone ceiling as if she could see through it, all the way to the ground above.

“So perhaps other ancient beings might retain some of their gifts, too.” (com)

In acowar, we learn that Elain is a seer and in the Maasverse, seer seems to be a broad term associated with the gift of Sight. Sarah sometimes uses seer interchangeably with oracle, as we see below.

It was a useless gift, she’d decided as a child. It couldn’t do much at all beyond blinding people, as she’d done to her father’s men when they came after her and her mother and Randall, as had happened to the Oracle when the seer peered into her future and beheld only her blazing light, as she’d done to those asp-hole smugglers. (hoeab)

An oracle appears to be a type of seer; at the very least, they have similar gifts of clairvoyance. Oracles were believed to be messengers, or conduits, for gods. We see indications of this in the scene where Hunt visits the oracle sphinx in hoeab. While we don’t know the full extent of Elain’s gifts, her abilities are referred to as oracular, and she shares parallels with both oracles and mystics in the Maasverse.

In fact, her gifts seem like they could rival the ancient beings Aelin referenced in the first quote. She tracks down Baba Yellowlegs—an Ancient—to help her unravel a mystery, and introduces us to another important method of Sight they cherish: witch mirrors.

Witch mirrors

If Yellowlegs truly was a witch, then perhaps she had the gift of Sight.

“Come to look into the mirrors?” she said, smoke spilling from her withered lips. “Done running from fate at last?” (com)

In the gloom, the caravan stretched on much wider and longer than should have been possible. A winding path had been made between the mirrors, leading into the dark—a path that Yellowlegs was now treading, as if there were anywhere to go inside this strange place.

[…]

As she strode through the forest of mirrors, her reflection shifted everywhere. In one she appeared short and fat, in another tall and impossibly thin. In another she stood upside down, and in yet another she walked sideways. It was enough to give her a headache. (com)

First, I would be remiss if I didn't point out the fact that Aelin links witches to the gift of Sight, just like in Midgard. Second, Yellowlegs’ caravan is unusual because its materials (the stones in the oven and wood in the walls) come from the ruins of the Crochan city. Combined with witch mirrors, it creates an otherworldly illusion that disorients Aelin and makes it difficult to escape Yellowlegs’ clutches.

Later, we learn from Manon that witch mirrors can be used to see, communicate, or amplify power:

“You can see the future, past, present. You can speak between mirrors, if someone possesses the sister-glass. And then there are the rare silvers—whose forging demands something vital from the maker.” Manon’s voice dropped low. Dorian wondered if even among the Blackbeaks, these tales had only been whispered at their campfires. “Other mirrors amplify and hold blasts of raw power, to be unleashed if the mirror is aimed at something.” (eos)

She and Aelin even enter a witch mirror to view a memory, and like I’ve discussed before, this experience might mimic Elain’s murky realm.

Aelin had a body that was not a body. She knew only because in this void, this foggy twilight, Manon had a body. A nearly transparent, wraithlike body, but…a form nonetheless.

Manon’s teeth and nails glinted in the dim light as she surveyed the swirling gray mists. “What is this place?” The mirror had transported them to…wherever this was.

“Your guess is as good as mine, witch.” Had time stopped beyond the mists?

[…]

The eddying fog darkened, and Manon and Aelin stepped close together, back to back. Pure night swept around them—blinding them.

Then—a murky, dim light ahead. No, not ahead. Approaching them. Manon’s bony shoulder dug into her own as they pressed tighter together, an impenetrable wall.

But the light rippled and expanded, figures within it appearing. Solidifying.

Aelin knew three things as the light and color enveloped them and became tangible: They were not seen, or heard, or scented by those before them.

And this was the past. A thousand years ago, to be exact. (eos)

@offtorivendell and I suspect there may also be witch mirrors in Prythian:

“My sister had a collection of mirrors in her black castle,” the Carver said. We halted once more. “She admired herself day and night in those mirrors, gloating over her youth and beauty. There was one mirror—the Ouroboros, she called it. It was old even when we were young. A window to the world. All could be seen, all could be told through its dark surface. Keir possesses it—an heirloom of his household. Bring it to me. That is my price. The Ouroboros, and I am yours to wield. If you can find a way to free me.” A hateful smile. (acowar)

Stryga, which is awfully close to the word for witch (striga, strega, shtriga, etc.), used her mirrors to spy on the world. It’s possible that her black castle was Hewn City, a place of rotting darkness that is home to wicked heirlooms much like her extensive collection in the cottage. Are Stryga and her magical mirrors also somehow connected to Maeve and the Valg? And if her heirlooms are also Mor’s family heirlooms, does that mean they are distantly related to Stryga and the Valg, and therefore connected to witches? Wounds associated with the Valg are described as rotted darkness (tod), making me truly wonder about the Court of Nightmares and those who inhabit and rule it now.

In tog, Maeve—a dark queen and world-walker like Stryga—confirms that mirrors can be used to spy, travel, and kill. She says she taught the witches how to use their enchanted mirrors. If Stryga is connected to the Valg, did she see her outward beauty in the mirror, or the displeasing form beneath (to use Maeve’s own words), no matter how many beautiful maidens she hunted and devoured? Could that unpleasant form look like the Valg princess we see in tog?

Its true form…It was as horrific as she’d imagined.

Smoke swirled and coiled about it, revealing glimpses of gangly limbs and talons, mostly hairless gray, slick skin, and unnaturally large dark eyes that raged as she looked upon it. [...] It hissed, revealing pointed, fish-sharp teeth. Your world shall fall. As the others have done. As all others will. (tod)

That would certainly drive someone like Stryga, who is obsessed with youth and beauty, insane. And it would make so much more sense that her true form–the rotted core of the Valg–would be capable of corrupting an enchanted mirror as scholars claim.

Save for the Weaver in the Wood—who certainly seemed insane enough, perhaps thanks to the mirror she’d so dearly loved. Or perhaps whatever evil lurked in her had tainted the mirror, too. Some of the philosophers had suggested as much, though they hadn’t known her name—only that a dark queen had once possessed it, cherished it. Spied on the world with it—and used it to hunt down beautiful young maidens to keep her eternally young. (acowar)

Much like Baba Yellowlegs, Stryga had a habit of devouring beautiful maidens and, once confined to the Middle, lured unsuspecting beings to her cottage. @offtorivendell has wondered if the Ouroboros will make a reappearance and if so, it might make the most sense in Elain’s story. It is interesting that Clotho helped Feyre find books on the Ouroboros and is the last known person in possession of Elain’s glass amulet. I do think this amulet could be connected to witch mirrors, even if only as a symbolic hint of things to come. The phrase secret, lovely beauty is repeated, suggesting a link—or sister-glass, if you will—between two females with hidden depths (more on this in The sense chanted and Groundings).

The Ancients

In addition to sharing information about witch mirrors, Manon confirms that some witches—like Baba Yellowlegs—have the gift of Sight.

Aelin murmured, “Nameless is my price.” Aedion opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what had snagged her interest, but Aelin frowned at Manon. “Can your kind see the future? See it as an oracle can?”

“Some,” Manon admitted. “The Bluebloods claim to.”

“Can other Clans?”

“They say that for the Ancients, past and present and future bleed together.” (eos)

The Blackbeak and Blueblood Matrons are also referred to as Ancients. Together, the Matrons represent the Three-Faced Goddess: Crone (Yellowlegs), Mother (Blackbeak), and Maiden (Blueblood). This goddess supposedly gave the witches their iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away.

Legend had it that all witches had been gifted by the Three-Faced Goddess with iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away. The iron crown, supposedly, was proof that the magic in the Blueblood line ran so strong that their leader needed more—needed iron and pain—to keep her tethered in this realm.

Nonsense. Especially when magic had been gone these past ten years. But Manon had heard rumors of the rituals the Bluebloods did in their forests and caves, rituals in which pain was the gateway to magic, to opening their senses. Oracles, mystics, zealots. (hof)

Nesta and Elain—who were Made in the Cauldron (which may be connected to the Three-Faced Goddess, as one of them is called Mother)—have iron mental gates. They also both wore iron bracelets and Elain has an iron engagement ring somewhere in her trove of jewelry. Elain, the obvious choice for the Maiden aspect, also wore a blue cloak during the witch accusation in Windhaven and seems to possess the most powerful Sight. Is it possible that time bleeds together in her murky realm like it does for the Ancients, and she might need even more iron, or something else, to remain tethered to Prythian?

“An Ancient,” Dorian mused, then murmured to Manon, “Baba Yellowlegs.”

They all turned to him. But Manon’s fingers brushed against her collarbone—where the necklace of Aelin’s scars from Yellowlegs still ringed her neck in stark white.

“This winter, she was at your castle,” Manon said to him. “Working as a fortune-teller.”

Manon stared the general down. “Yellowlegs was a fortune-teller—a powerful oracle. I bet she knew who the queen was the moment she saw her. And saw things she planned to sell to the highest bidder.” Dorian tried not to flinch at the memory. Aelin had butchered Yellowlegs when she’d threatened to sell his secrets. Aelin had never implied a threat against her own. Manon continued, “Yellowlegs wouldn’t have told the queen anything outright, only in veiled terms. So it’d drive the girl mad when she figured it out.” (eos)

Does Elain also know a person’s secrets on sight like Baba Yellowlegs? Is that why she was the only one who suspected Feyre’s pregnancy, and why she hasn’t yet met a character with a secret beneath her pretty face?

A Cauldron-blessed seer, could she even be the Eye of the Goddess incarnate, a divine guardian, as I suggested in Herbs she planted?

A large circle—and two overlapping circles, one atop the other, within its circumference. “That is the Three-Faced Goddess,” Manon said, her voice low. “We call this …” She drew a rough line in the centermost circle, in the eye-shaped space where they overlapped. “The Eye of the Goddess. Not Elena.” She circled the exterior again. “Crone,” she said of the outermost circumference. She circled the interior top circle: “Mother.” She circled the bottom: “Maiden.” She stabbed the eye inside: “And the heart of the Darkness within her.” It was Aelin’s turn to shake her head. The others didn’t so much as blink.

“That is an Ironteeth symbol. Blueblood prophets have it tattooed over their hearts. And those who won valor in battle, when we lived in the Wastes … they were once given those. To mark our glory—our being Goddess-blessed." (eos)

What if, like a Blueblood prophet, Elain is given a bargain tattoo of the Eye of the Goddess on her heart? (Please, Sarah.) Or perhaps its floral equivalent in Prythian: a layered rose that blooms with three colors when exposed to light, revealing the heart of Darkness within? A mark of the Goddess…

The Cauldron shattered into three pieces, peeling apart like a blossoming flower—and then she came. […] I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron … It was a void. But also not a void—a growth. (acowar)

to complement the eye of the beast in her love interest’s siphon?

I watched the light shift inside the sapphire Siphon instead, as if it were the great eye of some half-slumbering beast from a frozen wasteland. (acomaf)

or her mate’s magical eye?

“This eye …” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others…can’t. Spells, glamours … Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.” (acowar)

Only Time, or the wind, will tell what form the future might take.

Next: Song of the wind, or how Elain might travel like a witch.

Series: seer. wise woman. witch.

#witch elain #witchy elain #the ancients #witch mirrors #three-faced goddess #past present future #the eye of the goddess #crone mother maiden #witchy archeron sisters #acotar witches #tog witches #crescent city witches #maasverse witches #elain archeron

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