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kaitcreates · 6 months

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Over analyzing the Sword Catcher official art because I can.

First up Kel. He has his sword catcher medallion on and his clothes look blue then green like he’s described wearing in the book because the Queen wanted him to wear her home country’s colours and it doesn’t look like what we see Conor wearing in his portrait so Kel might’ve picked this outfit himself. The coat also ruffed up’s little, one of the sleeves even has a tear in it, he doesn’t start getting into any serious fights in the book until he sides with the Ragpicker King, around the same time he starts finally exploring his own identity if only slightly so this’s probably around that time frame. He has the scar on his eyebrow that Conor is described as having which I can feel has some sort of importance to their characters. The background is some waves, clearly referencing his love of the ocean and sailing, along with swords indicating his sword catcher title. His foreground is one of the less interesting with just a pile coins for his wealth as the prince’s fake cousin, a pile of scroll for how much reading he does, and a pile of something back that I’m not quite sure what it is. It looks like it might be some black powder but he hasn’t done anything with black powder yet in the story. Maybe it’s a metaphor for life as he knows it getting blown up as the story goes along, who knows. It’s also worth noting that he doesn’t have any flowers in his portrait, this might be nothing but it’s almost like a theme with most of the other portraits so it’s worth noting.

More characters under the cut because this got long:

After that we have Conor. His clothes and jewelry aren’t anything to write home about, it looks properly royal with plenty of jewels showing of his wealth. Though I do take not that the eyebrow that has a scar though it is covered in his portrait. His background depicts the Castelane lion on top of the city state’s national colour of red obviously a nod to him being the prince of the City-State. The hour glasses seem to represent his limited time as pressure begins to build on him, and I’m not quite sure what the falling rings represent, maybe they’re supposed to be coins and represent something about his debt. Again the piles of money, books, and scrolls represents his wealth and being well read. We can see what one do the scrolls says but it’s not very clear and seem to be written in one of the world’s fictional languages, if anyone can translate it please send it to me but it might not be anything special. The banner/flag in the corner is certainly important but I can’t remember anywhere that it would belong to at the moment so again if you can think of anything that would be a huge help. It’s also once again worth noting he’s one of the few character to not have flowers in his portrait.

Lin’s is arguably the most obvious. She has her mystery-stone brooch, her ashkar ring, is wearing the ashkar’s mandatry colours of blue and grey, and her medical satchel. The background has a glyph behind her with runes in it since she’s trying to bring magic back, the golden whisps also look magical, and the herbs and plants are for healing. There are diagrams of human anatomy behind her and the flowers have vials of what I presume is medicine strewn in them. This is also the first showing of flowers in a characters portrait, I thought it was representing her medical herbs and flowers. In the flower bed you can also see a split open pomegranate which could symbolize her growing doesn’t into darkness and crime as she tries to find a cure to Mariam similar to Persephone and the underworld.

Antonetta’s is relatively simple. Her outfit is what her mom forces her to wear throughout most of the book and she’s wearing her heart locket. Her background is also pretty simple with no special patterns or symbols to speak of, just some lace patterning at the edge of the circle similar to her outfits. It’s really the foreground that interests me. The perfume bottle is slightly odd as we never get any focus on her using perfume or smelling nice, but it does fit the perfect noble woman image so it’s not out of place. The sword being mostly hidden except the hilt is a nod to the secret sword lessons she takes, which she’s hiding from nearly everyone. The rose is obvious symbolism for looking beautiful and pretty but having thorns if you try to grab it. Around this I started thinking that maybe the flowers represented characters who were trying to get more then their current position in life was giving them. The most confusing thing about her portrait though is the bloodied handkerchief and golden locket around it. Bloodied handkerchieves are pretty much solely used in fiction for someone with a deathly illness but as far as I know Antonetta isn’t sick in anyway and defiant not of the fatal kind. Maybe it’s a nod to her friendship with Mariam.

For The Ragpicker King I would like to bring your anterior to his right hand. As you can hopefully see it looks like some slights scars are peaking out from his sleeve. What does this mean? I don’t know. I have no memory of this being described in the book, and was just something interesting I noticed. In the background you can see something that almost looks like a jail cell, likely referring to him being a criminal. There are also many playing cards flying around behind him for some reason, I’m not really sure since it’s never made note of him being especially in to card games or to use card metaphors in his plans. The piles of envelopes are likely his letters to and from the King and the books represent him once again being well read and his enjoyment of research. The evolvement of flowers once again confuses me because from what we see he seems perfectly content in his current life. Maybe it’s about how he escaped a life he was unhappy in.

Ji-an doensy have much going on, neither do most of the characters moving forward. The most interesting thing I could find about her appearance is that she’s wearing makeup. She has the two black swans, which I’m pretty sure I’m not remembering the full importance of, from her line about the swan pulling her carriage. She has a variety of swords in the back ground, one of which is she is holding. This could both represent her status as a killer but also as sort of like ghosts of the family she killed. Her flowers continue to feed into my “escape from current life/escaped from past life” theory and there isn’t much else to say.

Merren has nothing super interesting about his appearance in this portrait. It suits his personality and that’s about all I could say. The background is an obvious nod to his poisoner status with the wisps of smoke(possibly from hot tea?) leading up to a skull. I’m not entirely sure what the quills are supposed to represent, maybe it’s supposed to be because he’s a student so quills are like pencils in their world. Mostly his foreground also just seems to be about him being smart if a little messy when it comes to parts of his life outside of poisons and antidotes. The most specific thing I can find is the spilt concoction which is likely poisons. Once again the flowers are confusing, I had a theory that the flowers represented someone studiously seeking out knowledge, except Ji-an and Antonetta don’t follow this pattern. Merren also doesn’t fit into the “run/ran away from a life they didn’t like” theory unless there’s a part of his backstory that we don’t know about that fits into it. If anything he was pushed out of a life he liked. The flowers aren’t a super big part of the portrait and more of just an accessory anyways so fine, maybe it’s not meant to connect to the other flower portraits.

Joss’s portrait has two elements worth taking note of. First, the abundance of arrows and bows. This is mostly likely a nod to indoor archery, but I do hope we get more archery in his character and fighting style down the line. Second, he has some flowers in the foreground. Which just adds to the confusion because, as far as we know, he’s pretty happy with his current life and he almost definitely hasn’t ran away from an old life.

And the flowers continue to be confusing. Vienne is special in the fact that the flowers are pretty much the only other element of her portrait outside of herself. They do kind of make it look like she’s buried in flowers, especially with her helmet resting on the bed, and does work with the fact that she died at the end since giving flowers is a common way to pay respects to the dead, at least in western culture. In my admittedly short research session, the flowers seem to be Marigolds. These flowers are commonly used in day of the dead and symbolized grief and mourning in the victorian era, continuing the idea that these flowers are being used to represent her death. In renaissance times(the time period Cassie says she took the most inspiration from for those world) Marigolds were gifted to woman that men wanted seduce. What this means for Vienne I have no idea but it felt worth mentioning.

Now at this point you might be thinking “Couldn’t the flowers not actually mean anything and instead it’s the lack of flowers that represents something?” And I was think that too until Jerrod and his lack of flowers came along! Why are the only characters without flowers Kel, Conor, and Jerrod?! In other news Jerrod has basically nothing to take note of. His fingers look much paler then the rest of his hand from the chalk and the daggers facing towards his head could either represent that he’s being threatened or that he’s threatening. That’s really it. The rope and keys seem to be vaguely related to being able to get into places, but at the current moment they don’t seem to really be that personally connected to him.

So over all I have three main questions after this:

What in the world do the presence or lack of presence of flowers mean?

Were the details that don’t make sense to us right now cut after the art was made or are they hinting at future developments?

Why didn’t Mariam get a portrait?

#sword catcher spoilers #sword catcher #sword catcher deep dives #conor aurelian #kel saren #lin caster #antonetta alleyne #joss falconet #merren asper #kang ji an #jerrod belmerci #the ragpicker king #tcoc #the chronicles of castellane

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faithfromanewperspective · 7 months

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sugar coated brain (the fluid ain’t to blame): unraveling Conor Aurelian

I don’t know if this is me admitting to have read embarrassingly little in terms of Actual Books since I turned 18 but. Wow. I loved sword catcher, and for once I was there eating up the plot rather than only relating to the characters so much I was obsessively hoping for a happy ending for them.

I’ve said before that sword catcher was good, so good it’s almost above fandom discourse (like a Beethoven symphony perhaps, you think twice before making arrangements of a masterpiece like that) but even the best symphonies deserve, actually they’re honoured by, critical analysis of the phrasing and melodies and that which are used. And this is a Cassandra Clare book after all. The beauty comes from beautifully (read: realistic, somehow more human than real humans idk I’m blown away every time) constructed characters, and then from the plot. Which was character-driven and so, so delicious, but we’re not talking those kind of spoilers this early in the game.

While I’ll admit that Kel was the most relatable character, followed by Lin or maybe Ana, there were some things about Conor that just cut a little too close in ways I hadn’t thought about in years. Taking me back to some worldbuilding of my childhood, a ‘reluctant princess’ I came up with based on feeling trapped and overprotected and that fantasy world has long since been archived in my head and it’s entertaining to think this weird kid in western sydney who didn’t get to run quite as wild as some of the other kids (but still did get to run quite wild) felt like that when we were the furthest thing from royalty. I didn’t expect to be reminded of that in an adult fantasy book, but here we are, and I’m being entertained to see all the different takes on Conor: some driven to fascination, some to annoyance, and somehow in the 5 of us who’ve actually read sword catcher already everything in between.

But let’s be real for a second: who hasn’t heard the ‘oh you can’t be depressed you have everything you need’ and been like. Really hurt by it?? Who hasn’t sat among know it all adults in their younger years who would just judge the hell out of other young people who supposedly ‘never got to hear no’ and now they have ‘no resilience’ and ‘no wonder they’re having problems’? Referring to people you actually relate to and thought, well this definitely isn’t a safe space to be vulnerable I’ll just suffer in silence? I’ve grown up enough now to see Lin’s trauma behind the way she says this about Conor but part of me is still a little mad at her. As for Conor?? He’s everything I’d expect from someone in his position and I actually don’t think the majority of it comes from ‘never hearing no’ and ‘getting everything he wants’ but rather the things that those try to make up for: a lack of real autonomy over his life, not being allowed to feel Normal Child Feelings, having no one he can relate to and see as an equal, a heavy burden of responsibility before he was ever old enough to understand it, and the many levels of fuckery that’s all done to his parents making them not just emotionally unavailable but frivolous, trying to maintain their own autonomy and connection doing silly little rich people hobbies that just make the divide between and resentment of them vs Every Other Person greater (constant stargazing or Decoration and Control). Sugar-coated brains: how could they not be when everything revolves around you but there’s so little you can actually do but pursue the pleasure you’re told you’re entitled to?

I didn’t expect to be this mad at the royal family culture within SC but when I look back on it I’m not surprised. Not when the setting of the book is on the edge of a revolution, the unraveling of a society that feels so much like today and allows me to zoom out in a way that makes my little revolutionist heart happy. But oh, the angst and the bad decisions as the world teeters on that razorblade. The lives that are lost in the fray. I don’t know what’s happening in our world now but after Cast Long Shadows and an arc I know that she’s proud of (our dear Matthew Fairchild) I do trust Cassie. And in the meantime I’ll let her convince me of what I already know: the lives of nobility are simply pawns in a much bigger game no one (except maybe Ana) knows how to take the reins of, and the life of a pawn, no matter the luxuries, is a sorry life indeed.

This little revolutionist brain of the 2000s had one thing right, and I feel vindicated to see it in such clarity here: the relationship between social class and genuine connection. From the stark contrast of the opening with Cas and Kel, even also Mari and Lin, against the disaster that is the royal family, it couldn’t be clearer to me: when you’re nobody, when there are no expectations of you, you can be who you really are. Maybe not in the eyes of the authorities, and that’s an important distinction to make, but there’s no need to pretend around your nearest and dearest and sometimes that’s worth so much more than hypothetical safety. Because yes you can get away with things when you’re rich but you’ve also got more people trying to assassinate you for who you are specifically rather than just running the risk of getting killed because you’re unlucky and too unimportant for anyone to think you’d be missed. When you’re royalty (or just have parents with really high expectations or are a gifted kid even) you’re given a mold to grow into and no one really asks if that’s who you really are: why would they, when their worldview depends on you being exactly who they want you to be? So if you’re not it you pretend and even with those, like your children, who are close enough to see behind the ruse, you never quite show them who you really are either. You can see how that would drive one insane. You showcase that the only way to exist is to mask until you snap, or lose the ability to be yourself at all. Which leads me to the second type of sugar coat.

(And I’m quoting songs as my inspo behind this post as always, title quote is empty wallets by 5sos and I’m about to move onto sugar coat by little big town aka the band with an irl fairchild in it): this sugar coat is politeness and etiquette. There’s a quote somewhere in Kel’s narration I believe that I can’t find but basically views social etiquette and the like as you know. War strategy or something, which is another little segment of the reminder it’s cassie writing this and there’s a lot of accidental neurodivergence, or neurodivergence existing in a world so very different to ours, because that’s a very neurodivergent way of viewing it imo. And in this case, the sugar coat is like a constructed mask you spend your whole life trying to perfect, wear it as it’s handed down from your predecessors: in Conor’s case, lilibet (passed down from my mum, she wears it so well, put it on my shoulders said it’s colder out there than you think/would I recognise myself, would anybody else, if I took the damn thing off and burned it up?) who does make the frivolity and politics of being queen into her whole personality. She’s equally a pitiable and annoying character for that.

But as for Conor? He’s a Cassandra Clare Created (TM) young man. Of course he can’t quite manage this kind of sugar coat business. The politeness, the etiquette, the little social dances: he longs for real connection (and now we’re back in empty wallets territory, get you high when I’m high, so we see eye to eye: to me this sums out how he makes connections with those who are nowhere near his equals but he wants to have some sort of equal footed connection with: Kel and *[redacted minor spoiler, see below cut]). He’s snapping from the pressure of it, and that’s exactly the kind of driving force for the narrative Cassie uses excellently. We see him coming undone, and hate it (or at least I do) but hope maybe, maybe it’s the path for liberation for him from the life that’s obviously making him (more) depressed (than he otherwise might be), and as the audience we don’t care if the kingdom burns down for this, as long as it doesn’t cause too much collateral damage. And we know it’s going to be a wild ride to get there.

I don’t reckon this is obvious to everyone else but it is to me, with my experience of Christianity and life and just everything that if you’re a leader in any way, you’re a better leader for being liberated in yourself, having autonomy and appropriate boundaries and Conor has none of that and he’s coming undone and yes there’s a lot of other characters (who I will post about later) with their own arcs and A LOT going on (seriously it’s so deliciously complex and so much more so than tsc ever was with maybe the exception of tec which is kind of adult fantasy anyway). But oh. She really knows how to deliver, all through the first book and I can’t wait to see what the next one has to offer!! And to me the characterisation of Conor is just proof on how expertly the whole world of Castellane and it’s stories is being carried out.

BIG GAP CAUSE CUT ISNT WORKING

*and Lin later on, kind of

tagging: @daisymylove and feel free to mention anyone who might like it in comments/reblogs!

#sword catcher #cassandra clare #conor aurelian #I TRIED SO HARD TO MAKE IT UNSPOILERY #and genuinely don’t think it is?!?#not spoilery #I checked again #sword catcher deep dives #<-is that a new tag I see?

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synechd0che · 4 years

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Aim Your Arrow at the Sky (I’m so Tired Now)

For the 2019 Tolkien Secret Santa Exchange run by @officialtolkiensecretsanta

Recipient: @stand-up-and-fight-daleks

World: Silmarillion (First Age Middle Earth)

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairings: none (general audiences)

Characters: Celegorm, Oromë, Curufin

Summary:

The bees in the west field hum as Nerdanel works, star-wife, clay-shaper, the bright babe of scarlet mother hears the wind-whisper of little things.

Author’s note:

Title from Florence and the Machine’s “Sky Full of Song.”

I didn't tag this as Graphic Violence because it's not super detailed, but there is a passage towards the end that has some gore. If you want a synopsis of the passage so that you can skip reading it, please message me and I'm happy to do so.

I will post this on AO3 very very soon, at which point I will attach a link on this post. Otherwise, I’m Barefoot_Dancer on AO3 and the pseud I use for Tolkien related works is Lorinand_Lost.

Aim Your Arrow at the Sky (I’m so Tired Now):

The little one is in the vegetable garden, cloth-swaddled, brilliant-haired. He inches beneath the fruit vines, out under the humid canopy of gourd leaves. A mole he catches; it wiggles the moist star on its nose, sable fur dappled in tree-light. Dirt-digger, brother-mine.

And the little one whispers, root-feeder, brother-mine, and he turns him loose to burrow.

The leaves part and his mother’s face appears. As mothers do, she wipes berry juice from his cheeks, gives a scolding for his clever escape. Back into her shawl he is wrapped.

The bees in the west field hum as Nerdanel works, star-wife, clay-shaper, the bright babe of scarlet mother hears the wind-whisper of little things.

...

The old forest is ancient-dark, loam-rich, and the air is full of the creakings of the mossy, the time-bent. The little one is now a childling, taller than the sword ferns and shorter than the elderberry.

Little-water-swimmer, the brook gurgles. The childling drinks, and the water is clear and sweet.

With a leap he's an arrow, a ray of light, and he's reached the lowest branch of the spruce. A third of the way up, he finds a nest, four pale blue eggs, and the disgruntled parents, fretful and feathered.

Egg-eater, whistle the wood thrush in their woven home, Bird-catcher.

He climbs to where the branches are whip-willow thin and the sun lances through the needles, to where the wind whispers.

…

Deep in the wood, there is shadow, under beech and oak of interminable age. Everywhere is covered in their leaves, and everywhere not covered by leaves, in a deep moss. The childling is now a youth, tall and lean, his gold hair braided back. He carries his spear, ash-haft, heart-finder. The youth kneels, feeling the moss. The hare has come this way, light-footed, liquid-eyed.

And there it is in the underbrush, and there the youth lunges in pursuit. Then everything blurs in a dizzying, frenetic sprint, and he is a boy, and he is the hare, and then he has it by it's haunches. It goes still, looking at him with one golden eye, sides heaving. Fleet-foot, danger-tooth, and as a plea, brother-mine. The youth feels another set of eyes on him, and looks up slowly.

In the clearing, in the heart of the forest, there is a stag standing in a shaft of light. There is ivy in his antlers, and then he is a man. In a breath, the shade of a deer, gleaming bone and wet sinew. And then a man again, with the stag's head. He moves between these aspects as he says in a voice as old as time, boy-prince, swift-runner, come you now a-hunting?

The youth lowers his spear. Forest-lord, monsters-bane, Oromë.

Gather for me the waltalís nectar from their cliff-face hives, and you may join my wild-hunt.

~~~

Around in a circle are the other Huntsmen. They bear torches, stamp to the beat of a hide drum, sing in a tongue that sounds like the running hare, the charging boar, a diving hawk. Oromë stands at their head, motionless; he has taken the form of a man, dark skinned, braids capped with bone beads.

There is a wind in the cliffs, and the old harvesting ropes groan. Overhead, the bees whir and circle lazily. In one hand, the youth holds the harvesting basket, in the other, a long wood shaft tipped with a blade. He seeks purchase on the ropes with his knees, his bare feet, toes white-knuckled to the jute. He begins to climb.

Inching his way to the top is slow, and grueling. The youth is cold from the sweat-damp tunic that clings to his chest, and the ground is dizzying down below. The bees grow louder. Flightless-brother, knife-bearer. They spiral down from their nests, humming around him, alighting on his clothing and on his bare skin. The youth can feel their little feet as they bump their way over his breast bone and into his tunic, their gossamer wings across the eyelids that he screws closed.

When he can hear the hive above him, he raises the long blade to cut. The bee-music swells. elixir-thief. And they bite him, quick flashes of pain that bloom and burn. They bite at his exposed feet, the youth cries out, tethering himself into the ropes tighter. Now they crawl across his lips, and he locks them shut; they carry with them their sticky and bewildering nectar, made from the cliff flowers that give visions and heat and euphoria.

But they do not stop biting him, and in anguish he cries Shining-wings, sister-mine, Queen, I beseech thee! The nectar is in his mouth now, and there is a fire behind his eyelids and in the sky as the sun sets. It is bitter, it is sweet, and he burns. And the queen says, Take with care and temperance our madding-sweet, thee who speaks with little things. The biting ceases, and the youth fills his basket. Thanks-be, golden-daughter.

With his descent can hear a wild music, and the air moves in strange forms with languid intent. Below, he can see Oromë, and his head seems to shift between aspects - deer, decay, man - antlers grasping at the sky and weaving like vines.

When his feet hit the ground, the youth crumples. Oromë looms over him, washed in torchlight. Turkafinwë you are, father-named for strength and pride.

…

It is dark here, except for the fires burning on the northern horizon. The youth is of majority now, forest-hardened, valinor-soft. Below him in the valley, the goblin army, tortured-legion, unfortunate-brother. Under him shifts his horse, a dappled grey mare. She snorts, unsettled by the smell on the wind, puissance and suffering. Gentle-girl, Turkafinwë murmurs, Peace-be, safe I keep you. She nickers, settling.

When the ground-crawlers and night-wrigglers bring word that the orcs are in the Vale, Turkafinwë lights his torch. In a wave behind him, his men light theirs. There is the rolling sound of ringing steel being drawn, and then it is a hot-rush mad-scramble down the hillside. There is a shout in the air, and a wave of lights charge down into the orcs, who are night-blind with the sudden fire.

Down past Eithel Sirion and into the Fens they are driven, hunted and harried by Turkafinwë and his men, splashing and stumbling into the salty water, muddied and bloodied by the horses' hooves.

Their screaming sounds elvish. And their blood looks elvish as it streaks his blade and soaks into his hair. Some cry for mercy, some cry curses, some fall silently and their bodies relax into a peace cheated from them in life. Turkafinwë surges forward; for mercy, for vengeance, none will be spared here.

Silence falls, except for the groans of the wounded. Overhead, the carrion birds wheel. Brother-hunter, fearsome-fighter, blood-glutted you are, and now we fall to feast. The spirit of Alqualondë is in the air, or maybe it is just the sea air. In the water, elvish hair and orcish hair appear identical.

Tyelkormo he is by mothers-wisdom, the hasty-riser, hot-blooded.

…

Snake's-brother, Orodreth names him, lie-smith, brutish-betrayer. Turned out from Nargothrond in the dead of night. He mourns Huan, and his brother mourns his son; both are living dead, and neither will see their loved one again on this side of the sea. They are shades in the forest. They hide in the day, and travel at night as traitors under a sliver of moon. They seek their brothers' company.

The birds gossip about him, the beasts ignore him. He hunts for food, and his prey fall with baleful glares and die inelegantly, and he can hear them cursing him.

He is not Turkafinwë, he is not Tyelkormo, he is Celegorm in this new language that he speaks poorly and of which understands little, and silence is now his friend.

…

In that blood-haze, in those dark caves lit with glittering lamps, he can feel that familiar oath-madness creeping at the tips of his bones.

Behind him, there is a cry, and he turns to see Caranthir with an arrow sprouting from his jugular. On the causeway above him is Nimloth holding a great yew bow. Celegorm screams like it's his throat in which the arrow is buried, like a panicked horse, like a she-wolf protecting her pups. From his belt, he frees his last dagger. Willing it to fly like a bird, that Oromë and his teachings haven't quite abandoned him, he looses it. His aim is true, and the Queen of Doriath falls.

A scream rings in answer to Celegorm, ripping from the throat of Nimloth's human husband. King Dior charges him, broadsword raised. When their swords meet, all else falls away. Celegorm is dimly aware of the tears on Dior's cheeks, and that he is crying as well. He thinks he can kill this man, who is only human, but when Caranthir, falls with a groan, Celegorm's world freezes. He is too late to block Dior's blade, which slides through his breast plate like cold fire. He coughs blood, grabbing onto Dior's pauldrons to support himself. But in Dior's hasty fury, Celegorm's sword has also found its mark. The light leaves the man's eyes, and he and Celegorm fall as one.

The cold seems to spread from the wound, racing across his body and relieving Celegorm of oath-madness. He cannot push the blade free, but he does have the strength to pull Caranthir toward him, to roll Curufin into his lap. Celegorm listens as their breathing slows, as they go limp in his arms. Now, with bloody faces and sightless eyes, they look younger than they have since departing Valinor.

At last, he too can rest. Cold darkness comes to claim him, rolling over him like a wave.

…

When Celegorm awakes, there is fog, and out of the fog come gleaming eyes. A pack of wolves ring him, and they speak with Namo's voice. Welcome-be, kinslayer, oath-keeper.

Well-met, doomsman, spirit-master, Celegorm whispers.

The wolves close in on him, and he draws in on himself. When they savage his body, he thrashes out, and then realizes that the wounds close almost instantly. This must be his punishment, he realizes: eternal torment, unbroken by death or the oblivion of the void to which he had promised his soul, but from which he had apparently been saved to experience this fresh hell.

The wolves speak with Namo's voice, naming him Prideful-child, headstrong-hunter and they tear at his arms.

The wolves speak with his little brothers' voices, naming him Failed-caretaker, and in his father's, oath-breaker, and they rip at his legs.

The wolves speak with the young voices of Elured and Elurin, naming him Butcher-brethren, child-murderer, and they rend at the soft meat of his belly.

The wolves speak with Finrod's voice, melodious and terrible, naming him Cousin-killer, home-defiler, and their teeth sink home in his throat.

One wolf nuzzles close to his throat, and says Hound’s-friend, brother-mine, and Celegorm begins to cry because that is Huan’s voice inside that wolf.

And then the wolves speak in a new voice, and they name him: Hunter who is now prey, Turkafinwë; wrathful Tyelkormo; wretched Celegorm.

And Celegorm gasps, This is my voice, Namo, you torture me with my own voice.

And they say, his blood dripping from their teeth, Of course we do, for we are you. So tell us, how do you name yourself?

As Celegorm struggles between the heaving bodies and snapping jaws, he cries I am a kinslayer and an oathmaker, I am a monster and a butcher! His head disappears beneath the sea of fur. But I am also a third-brother and my people's defender, friend to little things and silent-hunter! He surges upward, grasping the largest wolf around the neck. Above all else, I am tired, and heart-sick, and I desire only restful darkness.

The wolf laughs. You will have no rest, not here, not until the remaking of the world. And everything goes dark.

...

When Turkafinwë awakes, for the second time since his death and after an interminable age, there is sunlight.

Turkafinwë sits up with a start. "I must be dreaming!" He shouts horsely, "You mock me, Mandos!"

"Can't stand the idea that you're one of the last of us to be released?" Curufin rises lazily from his seat under a tree.

"Brother?" And then quietly, “how long have I been gone?”

"Mother says it's been about four thousand years."

“You said one of the last…” Celegorm says slowly. “Who else is left?”

“Maedhros, for starters,” says Curufin. “If I know our oldest brother at all, it’s more due to his prodigious capacity for self-recrimination and less to Mandos’ judiciary streak.”

“And father?” Celegorm asks, pretty sure he already knows the answer.

“Well, look at it this way. When I was in the halls, I only ever saw visions of Celebrimor’s torment; how do you think it feels to have failed not one but seven sons?”

Celegorm sighs. “What are we doing here, brother? Surely the council would rather condemn our souls to the void.”

Curufin laughs. “I think Manwe is something of an optimist. And I do remember one last thing from the halls - the shade of my son that I had conjured as my punishment told me before I was released that I would have no rest until the world is remade.”

Celegorm starts.

“We May have forgiven ourselves in the halls,” continues Curufin, “but out here, we must fight for the forgiveness of others. One individual seems like he wishes to be first in line.”

The bushes behind him rustle, and out steps Huan. Turkafinwë, brother-mine And he knocks headlong into Celegorm, who falls flat with a laughing face full of dog fur.

There are bees - which he can hear, but cannot see, because he is on his back looking up at the bluest sky imaginable. And the bees say Welcome-be to land-everlasting, son of Fëanor, he who hears the wind-whisper of little things.

Author’s Note:

Waltalís - derived from walta (excite, rouse, wild) and lís (honey) in quenya.

Inspired by something I read once about traditional honey gatherers who climb up the side of a cliff to collect the honey made from a particular psychedelic flower.

Concerning the battle at the fens of serech,I headcanon that since the orcs began as elves that Sauron tortured and experimented upon, the first few generations are startlingly elf-like in appearance.

I like the idea of Mandos being the rehab of Valinor. They both serve time as penitence and learn to forgive themselves. So Namo’s brilliant idea is to have people overcome their self-hatred by handling their own punishment. Celegorm feels guilt over Finrod and his younger brothers, so he punishes himself with wolves until he’s all worn out and willing to forgive himself.

#tss2019 #tolkien secret santa 2019 #tolkien #silmarillion #celegorm

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currycurrie · 4 years

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So I just finished the episode where the gang arrive in Prague, and I keep thinking about Bertie. I just wanted to do a deep dive on my thoughts about the character in a more meta sense.

Warnings for mentions of Bertie typical racism and also real world prejudice and general negative criticism.

So Zolf fired Bertie. Which I think if this weren't a fantasy improv podcast, would have happened A LOT sooner. I think the ultimate failing of Bertie as a character, largely has to do with the fact that there is no progression. No character development. Not even a hint. An inkling. In fact, he's only getting worse. The whole gnome racism thing made me so uncomfortable I had to take a break to steel myself and get through it.

There has been ample opportunity for Bertie to become anything other than an insufferable caricature. And here's the other thing, if you want to have a satirical character whose sole purpose is to be awful, that's fine! Plenty of great characters come out of that premise. (I mean, Catcher in the Rye exists and is beloved by many.) But what makes those characters work is that there is some cathartic punishment they receive in the progression of the narrative. They get what's coming to them or they learn the error of their ways or find redemption, so therefore it's okay for the audience to laugh at them when they're being horrible! It's not just, oh this person is exemplary of everything wrong in the world and they do nothing but cause problems and we just have to swallow that pill.

When you're playing a ttrpg like this, your character is supposed to be the protagonist. The hero. The one who the story is about. So ultimately, I think it's specifically the format of this show that makes it difficult for Bertie to be an enjoyable character. Enjoyable here doesn't mean morally good etc. I'm a big fan of characters with complicated ethics and just straight up villains in general. But when you have a character who goes on a racist tirade about gnomes that specifically maps onto the very real existence of antisemitism, and then that character, instead of being properly punished or learning from their mistakes or something, he is then instead rewarded with a big beautiful magical sword by GNOMES that are (oops. uh oh. oh no.) lawyers. Just something a little bit...uhhh...well. ya know.

I am desperately hoping that Bertie learns SOMETHING. Is able to reflect even just a little bit! After being fired and his life threatened several times and left on the side of the road by his dear friend, now would be the PERFECT time for character development. But I'm not holding my breathe.

#rqg spoilers #currie's rqg sideshow spectacular #sorry about the negativity #i just needed to vent so so sooo bad

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disneytva · 7 years

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November 2017 On Disney Networks

Star Vs The Forces Of Evil

Club Snubbed/ Stranger Danger 7/11/2017

Demoncism /Sophomore Slump 8/11/2017

Lint Catcher/Trail by Square 9/11/2017

Princess Turdina/Starfari 13/11/2017

Lava Lake Beach/Sweet Dreams 14/11/2017

Death Peck/Polymonium 15/11/2017

Night Life/Deep Dive 16/11/2017

Monster Bash 16/11/2017 MID SEASON FINALE

Pickle And Peanut

Truckers; Pickledog 11/01/2017

Watchin' Darlin'; Petting Zoo 11/02/2017

The Merrytime Fellas; Foot Bangers 11/03/2017

Little Olden Town/90s Adventure Bear and the Sword of Songs 6/11/2017

Magic Dragon/Sync or Swim 7/11/2017

Preschool Reunion/Bobsledders 8/11/2017

Fugitives; Granny's House 11/09/2017

Gregazoids; Meat Ballers 11/10/2017

Mickey Mouse Shorts

The Birthday Song 11/18/2017

Elena Of Avalor

The Curse of El Guapo 11/11/2017

Three Jaquins and a Princess 11/18/2017

A Spy in the Palace 11/25/2017

Tangled The Series

Queen for a Day 11/19/2017

Painter's Block 11/26/2017 Goldie And Bear

Think or Swim; Hark! A Snark! 11/06/2017

Gnome Family Reunion; Adorable Norm 11/13/2017

Big Bad's Secret; Sprites on the Loose 11/20/2017

Bear's Hair Don't; The Fairy Tale Forest Quartet 11/27/2017

Puppy Dog Pals

Art for Pug's Sake; Winter Wonder-Pug 11/10/2017

Vampirina

Critters!; Cuddle Monster 11/10/2017

Batty Fever; Poetry Day 11/17/2017

The Lion Guard

The Bite of Kenge 11/03/2017

Mickey And The Roadster Racers

Billy Beagle's Tip-Top Garage; Diner Dog Rescue 11/05/2017

Pit Stop and Go!; Alarm on the Farm! 11/17/2017

Sofia The First

The Mystic Isles: The Great Pretender 11/03/2017

Big Hero 6 The Series

Baymax Returns Part 1 11/20/17

Baymax Returns Part 2 11/20/17

HIATUS FOR FUTURE WORM, BILLY DILLEY ,DUCKTALES & DOC MCSTUFFINS SUBJECT COULD CHANGE

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firstdraftpod · 4 years

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Cassandra Clare

First Draft Episode #242: Cassandra Clare

Cassandra Clare is #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Shadowhunter Chronicles, the forthcoming Sword Catcher duology, and co-author of the Magisterium series. Her most recent Shadowhunter novel, Chain of Gold, kicks off the Last Hours trilogy.

Links and Topics Mentioned In This Episode

A Little Princess and The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Noel Streatfeild wrote a prolific series of books for young readers, kicking off with Ballet Shoes and including Dancing Shoes, Theater Shoes, and Skating Shoes.

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg

Cassie went through a British obsession where she read all of the Brontë sister’s works (best typified by Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre) and all of Jane Austen (including Pride and Prejudice and Emma)

Cassie’s interview on 88 Cups of Tea

The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

Holly Black, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Cruel Prince, The Coldest Girl in Coldtown, and The Spiderwick Chronicles (listen to her First Draft episode here)

J.R.R. Tolkien, author of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy

The Shannara books by Terry Brooks, which kicks off with The Sword of Shannara

Tad Williams, author of the Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series, which kicks off with The Dragonbone Chair, and the Shadowmarch series

Guy Gavriel Kay, author of Tigana and (my personal fav), Under Heaven and its sequel, River of Stars

Annette Curtis Klause, author of Blood and Chocolate and The Silver Kiss

Ellen Kushner, author of Thomas the Rhymer and Swordspoint.

Terri Windling created the “Bordertown” shared world urban fantasy series. In 2011 she initiated a YA revival of the series Welcome to Bordertown co-edited with Holly Black.

Robin Wasserman, author of Girls on Fire and the forthcoming Mother Daughter Widow Wife (listen to her First Draft episode here)

Tamora Pierce, author of Alanna and Wild Magic

Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld

A High Wind in Jamaica by Richard Hughes

The Greengage Summer by Rumer Godden

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