#Plutarch with a death note would be so powerful

[arthdoesart]

drawing my top three faves at 4 am

[msmarvelwitch]

spoilers for sunrise on the reaping

Listen, as someone who shamelessly loves fan service I was surprised Suzanne Collins gave us any breadcrumbs at all but I was more than thrilled she got it out of the way in the first few chapters. To me it sent a message that while, yes, a lot of the fan theories were cannon after all, it wasn’t what this story was going to be about. This is very much a story about finding, losing, and regaining hope even when the cards are stacked against you. This is very plainly pointed out by Plutarch being able to spin the narrative and Wyatt constantly remarking on the odds of their situation. I think the direct parallels between Katniss and Haymitch’s life also underline the fact that there was nothing more special about Katniss than the rest of the victors - she just had what they never did, which was good timing.

I think the real tragedy of this story is that the rebellion movement was beginning well before Katniss was even alive. If the timing had been right, it would have been Haymitch that was the Mockingjay twenty five years before our story even begins. However, the victors failed. Whether it was due to Beetee’s obvious emotional investment in the planning. Or perhaps it underestimating the commitment of the Capitol to improve the Arena after Wiress embarrassed them in the prior year’s games. It doesn’t matter what particular thing prevented taking the arena down, at the end of the day they failed. Badly. And each of the victors paid a price for it. These prices sidelined them for years - decades for Haymitch at the very least.

Not only did they have to live with the failure of their plan, they also had to what the Capitol grow stronger and somewhat more competent. What really struck me while reading this was the fact that even by the 50th Hunger Games, the Capitol still seems to not quite have its shit together. The train to the is noted to be a little shabby as if it’s an old subway car and the District 12 tributes even seem less than impressed by their living quarters during training. We know from Katniss and Peeta’s games that the conditions only “improve” for the tributes over the years. All of this is definitely to fatten the pigs before the slaughter, but I can’t imagine how disheartening it must have felt for the victors who could see the incompetence of the Capitol only becoming more efficient and powerful every year as more kids died. Not to mention that they had to guide those kids to their deaths under these conditions as well. No wonder they lost hope over the years and put their aspirations of freeing the Districts from the Capitol because who would know better about the human cost of this fight better than the victors? They all know that the cards are stacked against them and the odds aren’t in their favor, so they more or less fall in line.

Then comes Katniss. She instantly stirs Haymitch awake by reminding him of Louella, not to mention the fact of the emotional connection he has to her father. I think she eventually even reminds him of Maysilee by fighting back against Haymitch on the train after he immediately writes them off as two more kids doomed to die in the arena because he has seen it so many times before. Because Katniss and Peeta are no more different or special than any of the tributes that have come before them. I think the other victors no doubt were reminded of a young Haymitch once they saw Katniss in action during the games. She’s openly rebellious to the leaders before the game but instead of scoring low on their assessment as Haymitch did, she gets the top marks. She is protective of “weaker” contestants like Rue just as Haymitch tried his best to protect Louella, Ampert, and Wellie. I think it’s Rue’s death and Katniss taking the time to honor her before her body is whisked off by the Capitol and wakes everyone back up again. It’s not that Katniss is doing anything new or different than the people who came before her, she just reminded them of all the injustices they have endured for over fifty years. It’s a long list of people who not only died during the Hunger Games, but their loved ones who were killed to crush their hopes and kept them fearful. It just goes to the timing where everyone - the victors and the citizens of the Districts - have had enough and it opens up the door to hope again. Even though the Capitol is stronger than ever and the deck is stacked against them, they decide to screw the odds and fight back anyway.

Also, because of their failures, the victors are able to learn from their mistakes during the Second Quarter Quell. Nobody understands Katniss better than Haymitch and he knows that if she is informed on the rebel plans ahead of the 75th Games, their cover will be blown because she is not a natural liar or actress. As a result, she and Peeta are kept in the dark about the plot to take down the arena and I think this was critical to the success of the plot. I wish Haymitch’s epilogue gave us a bit more into the planning and scheming the victors did ahead of the games to make sure their plan didn’t completely fail again, but it’s safe to assume that Beetee, Wiress, and Mags also had their own learnings from their failed scheme that helped take down the arena and start a revolution twenty five years later.

Now I think the themes of going against the odds even when it’s hopeless are really plainly stated here but I think the similarities in Katniss and Haymitch’s stories aren’t just fan service but essential to the plot. Which I think given today’s political climate - particularly in the U.S. - is exactly the point Suzanne is trying to make. Now, I know there is a whole debate on TikTok on whether books are political…which is a a thing people truly believe these days. However, this series has always been political and I think the timing of both “A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes” and “Sunrise on the Reaping” being released over ten years after this series has been completed is no accident. Similarly to Katniss not being the first person to experience the trauma of the games and being a target of Snow, everything happening today in the U.S. is not the first time or place where something like this has happened. I think this story is meant to encourage people to keep their hope even when it feels futile and naive.

[professorkirke]

Why did Katniss vote for another Hunger Games?

Before looking into what Katniss tells us the reader about her choice we need to look at the context leading up to the vote.

Katniss knows that Coin considers her a political threat and wanted her to die during the last stage of the war. When Peeta joins the Star Squad Katniss ends chapter 18 (and part II) with "But if Coin sent Peeta here, she's decided something else as well. That I'm of more use to her dead than alive." (Mockingjay p. 293) In the next chapter Katniss notes that Boggs is angry and he doesn't deny that Coin wants Katniss dead. Katniss doesn't understand why, so we get this exchange:

"Sometime in the near future, this war will be resolved. A new leader will be chosen," says Boggs. I roll my eyes. "Boggs, no one thinks I'm going to be the leader." "No. They don't," he agrees. "But you'll throw support to someone. Would it be President Coin? Or someone else?" "I don't know. I've never thought about it," I say. "If your immediate answer isn't Coin, then you're a threat. (...)" Mockingjay p. 298

There are earlier events in the book where we can see that Katniss does not trust Coin. A prime example being that Katniss insists Coin make the Mockingjay Deal announcement in front of all of Disctrict 13.

The next important piece of context for the vote is Prim's death. Prim is killed by a bomb design to kill the rescuers after one round of bombs dropped by a hovercraft with a Capitol sigil on it (Mockingjay chapter 24). This type of bomb was designed by Gale and Beetee in District 13 (Mockingjay chapter 13). Katniss mulls over the evidence she has, what Snow said and what she knows about both Coin and Snow:

(...) it doesn't mean she dropped those parachutes. Victory was already in her grasp. Everything was in her grasp. Except me. [Reminder of what Boggs said about Katniss being a threat to Coin] Suddenly I'm thinking of Prim, who was not yet fourteen, not yet old enough to be granted the title of soldier, but somehow working on the front lines. How did such a thing happen? (...) But for all that, someone very high up would have had to approve putting a thirteen-year-old in combat. (Mockingjay p. 406)

Katniss does not conclude anything about the bombing in the internal dialogue the reader gets to follow. At minimum Katniss knows Coin likely authorised Prim being put in harms way to get to Katniss and destabalise her. Katniss does not tie Prim's death to Snow or the Capitol at any point after this.

Now we get to the actual vote. The Victors are gathered right before the planned execution of President Snow. Coin presents having a final Hunger Games with children "directly related to those who held the most power" (Mockingjay p. 415). Haymitch asks if it was Plutarch's idea and Coin clarifies that it was hers. Peeta, Annie and Beetee vote against. Johanna and Enobaria vote for.

Now it is up to Katniss and Haymitch.

Katniss thinks about what it must have been like deciding those first Games and "All those people I loved, dead, and we are discussing the next Hunger Games in an attempt to avoid wasting life" (Mockingjay p. 417). Next we get these two sentences: "Nothing has changed. Nothing will ever change now." (Mockingjay p. 417) And then she casts her vote:

I weigh my options carefully, think everything through. Keeping my eyes on the rose, I say, "I vote yes... for Prim." (Mockingjay p. 417)

The last we heard about Katniss's thoughts of Prim connect her death with Coin. This I think is likely the point when Katniss decides to shoot Coin and not Snow.

Haymitch now has the deciding vote and this is what Katniss thinks:

(...) I can feel Haymitch watching me. This is the moment, then. When we find out exactly how alike we are, and how much he understands me. "I'm with the Mockingjay," he says. (Mockingjay p. 417)

Haymitch and Katniss have communiced wordlessly with each other since the 74th Games. Katniss has a plan and Haymitch understands this. If Katniss had no plan I don't think she would think about "how much he understands [her]". She wants him to vote for these last Games to keep Coin happy and oblivious to what Katniss's next step is. Haymitch understands this, or at least that Katniss has a plan and she needs his help here. Without adding any spoilers for Sunrise on the Reaping: Haymitch would have voted no without Katniss asking him to vote yes.

The next thing Katniss does is kill President Coin. Thus stopping the cycle of violence she sees Coin ready to continue. Nothing has changed with Coin as President. Nothing will ever change unless Katniss steps up. Which she does. For Prim.

[jeannereames]

I saw someone asking here about Alexander grieving his father's death. That brought this question on my mind. Do you think Alexander openly grieved Philip's passing? What I can think of is, it was Hephaestion to whom he opened up. I can imagine him crying his heart out in Hephaestion's arms when they were alone together. I am not sure if he would even open up much to Olympias, though he was pretty close to his mother. What do you think?

Alexander Mourning Philip

For the ancient Greeks, Real Men Cry.

To a point.

Quite specific gender differences existed for male and female mourning in ancient Greece. If men swayed too close to women’s mourning, it was a problem. That was key to criticisms of Alexander’s mourning for Hephaistion. Essentially, he couldn’t control his grief, so he was “too girly.” But a failure to show any emotion—the proverbial “stiff upper lip”—would have been impious, not just “girly.”

Mourning was a religious expectation for any Greek. And Macedonian kings were duty-bound to bury their predecessor. Even Kassandros had to bury Arrhidaios and Alexander IV, no matter what he actually thought of them. At least in public, proper mourning behavior was expected.

That public mourning would involve the recitation of a goös, or formal elegy. Stylized mourning included loud calling out, a hand tearing at the hair, and possibly dirt on the head. Tears would be expected, as long as he wasn’t crying like a garden hose—or wailing “like a woman.” Note that, in the Iliad, Patroklos is made fun of by Achilles for “crying like a little girl” over the death of so many Greeks when the Trojans reached the Greek ships. There were limits, even as some expression of grief was not only allowed by expected.

As for Alexander’s mourning in private, I expect it was complicated, but I don’t think he would have kept it to himself except for Hephaistion. That’s not a very Greek view, imo. He’d have vacillated between anger at whoever killed Philip, and grief, and a need to learn what happened and punish the assassin. This was also a political act. Remember they did not know who did it, and it was entirely possible Alexander was the next target. (No, I don’t think Alexander had anything to do with his father’s death.) Even if he wasn’t, he’d still have been a target for his cousin Amyntas. Either he took the throne and lived (and Amyntas died), or Amyntas took the throne and Alexander died. That was the way of Macedonian inheritance with two viable Argead candidates, even with Alexander as designated heir. The next king waded to the throne through the blood of his competing relatives.

So a lot of pragmatic political matters would have impacted normal expressions of mourning. That’s independent of Alexander’s personal feelings about his father, which are difficult to know.

IMO, the popular image of Alexander and Philip at constant odds is exaggerated. In fact, if I were writing the novels today, I’d probably tone it down even more. But note that in DwtL, their relationship goes up and down. Sometimes they get along rather well; other times, not so much. Partly, that owes to Alexander being a teenager, when boys fight with their fathers anyway. But I think it also owed to the fact raising children was seen as a woman’s job and Philip was busy running a kingdom. He wasn’t present in Alexander’s life until he reached an age to be trained as an heir. Philip was that father with a high-powered occupation who sends his kid off to boarding school—literally, with Aristotle. That doesn’t mean he wasn’t interested, but he didn’t see himself as a father first. For one thing, he didn’t himself have exposure to good fathering. This is one of my novel’s themes, with the foiling between Philippos and Amyntor.

As for the real people, we’d need to know more about the state of their relationship when Philip was killed, and we just don’t have enough information because our sources for that period suck, honestly. Justin can’t at all be trusted, Plutarch has an agenda, and Diodoros is abbreviated to the point he stops making sense sometimes, but he might also be the least biased. As for Plutarch’s agenda, Philip is a barbarian king while Alexander is properly Hellenized due to his proper Greek education (via Aristotle), so he contrasts his father—until he falls under the sway of Corrupt Persian (Barbarian) Luxury and loses his Greek card. We must read all the Alexander-Philip conflict in Plutarch's Life in that fashion. Diodoros suggests things weren’t as dire as they appear in Plutarch, never mind Justin.

So I expect Alexander did mourn for his father, both in the ways expected of an Argead royal successor, but also as a son for his father. And not only in private with Hephaistion.

[kebriones]

Reading a book about Peloponnesian war and your awesome notes from Plutarch are making me think of an alternate history in which Athens essentially tolerate Alcibiades enough to let him win the war (and he is obeyed at Notum! damn you Antiochus).

And then...and what then? Do we get a glamorous, unpredictable, philosophically inclined, glory-bound tyrant? Does he keep fighting until he builds an Athenian empire that takes on Persia? What happens with succession since he is presumably not immortal? (Unless he *is* Dionysus after all)

(gods I am getting all these alternate history/fantasy ideas and not enough talent...)

I love and hate thinking about what would've happened if they just let him do his job agdhsb i love it because IN MY IMAGINATION I CAN FIX THINGS and I hate it because. *Gestures at Athenians voting without thinking all the time*

I think he would've kept expanding the Athenian empire. I don't think he would've gone full tyrant, not even when he was recalled and made commander of everything for a few months did he seem to consider turning into a proper tyrant but he would be functionally very close.

But yeah I think even if the Sicilian expedition failing kinda sank his dreams of world domination, he never seemed to abandon the idea that if athens is to survive they have to keep expanding. In Thucydides that's a core part of his first speech, that they cannot afford to decide there's a point where they must stop their empire's growth.

His plans at the end seemed to have been to retake everything in terms of islands in the Aegean and keep control of the important Hellespont passage. If he had all that secured, i still don't think he'd venture into asia minor to fight the persians, because he didn't have the massive land army Alexander had. I think if he had control of the whole Aegean he would try and destroy the spartans for good and then go back to take Sicily, which was important for timber. I think the west was a safer choice at the time.

Could he have managed to take control of the entire Mediterranean before he died? Idk he was a madman so maybe. That would definitely upset the persians.

As for succession, i don't know. The Athenians voted for their generals, so any other person could in the meantime start rising in popularity and/or skill. But judging by how athenian democracy went, I do think they would quickly mess something up and lose their empire again. Like I don't think they could maintain such a power with the type of democracy they had going on, and with the constant power struggles that come with that type of politics.

We probably wouldn't have had Socrates being sentenced to death though. Which, other than athens potentially being able to stop the macedonians later, could also change the course of history. What if the lack of that event made plato never write anything. That would be interesting.

[endearingsalt]

So I finished reading Sunrise on the Reaping

First of all, I thought it was great and I really liked it. As others have said, this was definitely the prequel to Catching Fire, specifically. It gives a lot more context to the world of Panem and the fight of the rebels over the 75 years the Hunger Games were in effect. I'm a big believer in Snow's misfortune being that he dated a girl from a small town with a big family and it's haunting him for the rest of his days, so having more connections between books actually doesn't feel unbelievable to me. District 12 isn't that big, and the Covey is predisposed toward rebellious behavior, so it makes sense that a lot of the focus would be on people associated with them.

Obviously, the timeline doesn't perfectly line up, as this is 24 years before The Hunger Games (book), and therefore implies that Burdock was 25 when Katniss was born. Considering he's 16 here and already well on his way with Asterid, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense for them to wait that long to have kids. Peeta isn't Otho's oldest, so that one does make more sense. I'm willing to overlook a few years' discrepancy for the sake of a good story, though.

Easily the weakest part of the book is Beetee's storyline. It doesn't make a lot of sense for him to have already been discovered for this as well as other rebel plots a good 25 years before Catching Fire when he's still a trusted Capitol inventor all those years later. The book repeatedly refers to him as "too important to kill," but what does that mean? How is it possible he's the only tech genius in all of Panem? Snow, as is also repeatedly shown, is petty, and not above making incredibly short-sighted decisions for the most cruel impact in the moment (most notably destroying your country's entire source of coal ahead of a large-scale conflict). It seems doubtful he'd let Beetee anywhere near the Capitol defense systems after everything he's done. Beetee is also an area where Collins' writing gets pretty amatuerish for a second—when he tells Haymitch the circumstances of his and Ampert's situations, he becomes an exposition machine that we don't really need and doesn't ring very in-character. It also doesn't make sense that he'd ever have another kid after Ampert, but it's possible that off-screen, he was somehow forced as a means of continued leverage over him.

That said, I LOVED Ampert himself, and I think the demonstration of rigged reapings happening under even more covert situations than Haymitch's own was well done. The entire book was about the power of propaganda, and this is a crucial piece. Ampert's casting is essentially exactly what I envisioned as I read, so that's cool.

One of the most intriguing characters in the series is Plutarch imo, easily. I couldn't help comparing him to Luthen from Andor, and yet at the end of it all, Plutarch does get to see the sunrise that Luthen knows he'll never make it to. It would be so easily to run straight into a white savior archetype with Plutarch, but he's repeatedly morally grey to the point that it's impossible to consider him anyone's savior.

The story of Louella and Lou Lou really captures the insidiousness of missing indigenous women and the way BIPOC women are seen as interchangeable to the point that no one notices a body double. Casting her as white is........as offensive as I thought it would be when I first heard about it. Don't say shit to me about how her last name is McCoy. As if only white people could have a Scottish-sounding surname. And Katniss reminding Haymitch of her does not mean they share a race, and you know what? Real Katniss is a woman of color anyway.

On a similar note, Panache. Panache is another character who could have done with more dimensions, as he started out a privileged bully and continued to be one until his death, when that is how he is remembered. Haymitch points out that making fun of him for not being quick-witted is unfair given the circumstances he's been raised in, but that comparison would hit home a lot more if it were made more complex. We never do get to see Panache have a side other than "the bully" or "the meathead." As a Career, it would have been a stronger statement to point out that his oppression of poorer Districts is still bad while also driving home that he's not really much different himself. Given the way he was written, though, casting him as Black is....somehow the only casting decision that could possibly be worse than white Louella/Lou Lou.

At least we'll get non-white Lenore Dove, so there's a little justice left in the world. I actually loved her name-poem and the way it was used at the end of the book. I wonder how many kids in school will go nuts over Poe as a result.

I actually feel pretty good about the rest of the casting. Effie, Beetee, Maysilee, and Wellie all especially look like they'll make good renditions.

"Don't let them use your blood/tears to paint their posters" was such a line, and having Haymitch, Maysilee, and Lenore Dove share such a strong desire to "paint their own posters" while going about it so differently showcased the different ways people rebel and how they can all make each other better in the process.

Oh yeah, and Snow was truly so funny with the milk and rolls thing. Man's core personality trait is just "Petty." Petty and evil, that is. Honestly, for as 2D as he can end up feeling at times, I actually think he's a great example of how fucked up fascism can make a person, and eventually the cruel pettiness is all that's left. A lot of his punishments for people come across as childish, and they are, because he's a deeply unserious person at the end of the day. But he also has enough power to make his petty vindictive punishments truly destroy lives, so he becomes a threat regardless.

I am so fascinated by Effie as a character. I think about her a lot as an example of the white upper-middle class woman who begins to figure out activism after a long while of fully drinking the kool-aid and is very cringy about it at first. I'm talking about like those white women who made blue bracelets after the 2024 election to "show they weren't like those white women who voted for Trump," etc. I think of Effie's "we should all have something gold to show them we can't be divided" thing and that comes to mind. So to see her at the start, as someone who's 100% Capitol-pilled while also being a generally kind-hearted and observant person is very interesting to me. I'm mid on Hayffie but I hear they were happy with what they got from this book, so good for them.

Yeah, I'll probably continue to post about this periodically as I think of more things. I will not be posting all this on my StoryGraph review lol and my partner is not Hunger Games-pilled, as I am.

This does actually make me want to give Songbirds and Snakes another shot. I originally read that one while traveling with my parents and sandwiched between two really great Black high fantasy YAs, so the thoughts of our little sniffling neo-Nazi wasn't all that appealing. But the more I think back on it, the more interesting that book gets too. Me being irrationally afraid of rabid animals (something I've never been anywhere near) is not greeeeaaaat when it comes to engaging directly with that book, though, so who knows. The thought is there regardless. I think the prequels work well together and with the original trilogy, and that's saying something, as I'm generally disposed against prequels, and against milking IP. These don't feel like IP-milking though. They do continue to feel like Suzanne Collins witnessing the world as it is today and saying "And another thing..." I, for one, am still listening.

[incubationformadness]

I find it so amusing (and fun! for me!) that Effie just can't stop killing people who wronged her. She tasted blood once and the bodies won't stop falling, and they won't stop falling, and they won't stop falling 🎵

One must wonder what she could achieve with Death Note... The funniest thing is I don't think she would immediately go for Snow's head even if she had it - I feel like this possibility would slowly occur to her.

Really loved that her planting those flyers was both a revenge for her tribute and in some way a protection for her ex best friend. And how she still grieved Valeria, because they have been friends before! They knew each other for so long! And how she wasn't ready for how it happened nor for the collateral. It felt like she knew deep down it wasn't going to kill just Valeria, but blocked it out/was too focused on being in the moment.

Also her conversation with Alseid!! Girl you don't even know that your ex bff has killed before and your mutual ex friend that she killed had known this, but not because of the first one. I do wonder what pushed Alseid to do the flyers, and if the consequences of her and Effie's actions will make the situation better or worse for Cori (illegal practice because of the ban on abortion - in hopes of having more "new blood") or Plutarch (rebellion schemes).

Also Haymitch knooooooows!.. At least he might meet the uncle too, I think they would get along well enough.

Effie is learning the hard lesson that just because you consider yourself 'apolitical' doesn't mean that you are unaffected by the political power structures of your nation. To be fair, she's only previously killed one person, Julius Leland, in an act of panicked self-defence. But Valeria's death was a calculated act, which shows a far more ruthless streak in Effie. I think that she is growing more aware of where her strengths lie - she truly weaponised her privileges as a conventionally attractive white woman to get Lepidus Arnall on her side.

Yes, I think that your observation is likely correct. Effie tends to focus on specific people/issues/details without necessarily looking at the bigger picture (i.e. her still retaining contact with her father until she was well into her twenties, because she refused to contextualise what her father did to her as grooming and abuse). Effie is undergoing gradual political deprogramming throughout the fic - her outlook of the Games is significantly more cynical and pessimistic now compared to her first Games - so I do think that it would eventually occur to her, but not immediately. A key part of Effie's character is that she is more inclined to try to adapt to her circumstances than attempt to radically overhaul the situation she is in. Part of that is to do with her upbringing; she's a blend of focused resilience, determined to endure even the worst days, but also learned helplessness, failing to believe that she could ever truly 'beat' her oppressors.

Thank you! Effie may have hated Valeria towards the end, but she'd known her since they were children and she remained sentimentally attached to those memories - similar to how she still sought her father's approval even while knowing that what he did to her was wrong. Valeria may have been a bully, a sadist, and quite possibly a serial rapist - but she did look out for Effie, in her own way. She did get Effie the escort job, returned the dart gun to her, and bailed her out of prison, after all. And I do think that Effie had the feeling that the consequences of planting the flyers may well spiral out of her control, but she can have quite a blinkered view of the world and didn't know how else to eliminate Valeria as a threat to her and her tributes. She knew that Valeria's family and friends may be arrested and interrogated - she did not, however, bank on them all dying.

(Not-so-fun-fact: Valeria was already dead by the time the gas explosion happened. More on that in a later chapter).

Alseid's activities have always been somewhat shrouded in mystery, but there was a trigger to her putting up those flyers, which we will at some point discover. There is going to be a significant fallout from the Coldwells dying...both good and bad.

Haymitch must feel like he's living in a fever dream lol, but he probably would get on with uncle Prylis. Prylis is fairly open-minded and considers himself to be the Capitol equivalent of white trash, so I think that he'd look down on Haymitch. They're both addicts, so they have that in common.

[felixravinstills]

hello it’s me again!! i just read your latest fic (obsessed) and it’s got me thinking about Diana and Alma Coin. i was wondering if you had any thoughts or headcanons about them and their relationship that you’d be willing to share?

(the fic mentioned in ask. the fic people should read before that one.)

Hello!!! Always excited to hear from you! Also for everyone who doesn't read my fics, please note that the Diana here refers to my OC, Diana Ravinstill, not Diana Ring (although she is named after her). She's Felix, Artemisia (my other OC), and Festus' daughter, (Biologically she's Felix's and Artemisia, and they're in a throuple with Festus who co-parents her).

I think I mention this briefly in All That You Can Do, but these two definitely connect over grief. Coin loses a daughter and a husband before the events of Mockingjay and her life's probably been defined by all the limitations of living underground to escape the Capitol while Diana's life is also just equally defined by things and people she's lost.

They're both weirdly comfortable with how unsure they are of each other's genuine feelings/attraction to the other. There's always this element of Diana being a major source of the funds for the Rebellion while Coin is obviously Thirteen's president and has more political power than Diana. They both need each other to ensure their own power, they're both using each other a little bit, and somehow that gives them comfort. I think it stops them from thinking their relationship is too real or serious.

Going off that point, I imagine Coin is reluctant to see herself in a serious relationship because of having lost her husband and daughter and the pain of that while Diana saw what her parents' deaths had on each of them and entertaining a serious romantic entanglement would mean (to her) that she's liable to be hurt and fall apart in the same way

Of course, Coin dies and in any world except All That You Can Do, Diana's first reaction is 'well, of course, this happens.' I think after all the loss in her life. She'd just think it was the cherry on top of the cake that as soon as she gets the revenge she's spent nearly half a century waiting for, the woman she's been seeing gets assassinated.

Since Diana's personaliy/behavior changes a bit depending on what specifically happens with her parents. Close Your Eyes! Diana imitates more of Festus' old casual and laidback demeanor to hid her hurt, and I think that means that she and Coin are closer to the bickering dynamic of Festus and Felix which these women transform into something almost antagonistic while It's Still You! Diana leans into her more into a genuine personality that engages with issues that Coin might be having so in a funny coincidence the dynamic becomes more Artemisia and Felix.

(The fact that Felix ends up being the Coin parallel is alarming to me, resident Felix enjoyer who occasionally worries that my version of him will stray so far into the morally questionable that only I'll be able to love him... <- part of that could actually be a bad summary for It's Still You)

And also because I apparently love giving characters the hardest dynamic to explain ever (and I've mentioned this in at least one Author's Note), but I can imagine a throuple situation with Diana, Coin and Plutarch could exist, but Diana and Plutarch aren't actually involved with one another, because I headcanon (or is it just canon cuz she's my OC?) that Diana is a lesbian. (Honestly, idk if I'll ever make this in-text canon in one of my fics, but thinking about the absolute mess that this would make Thirteen's government in Mockingjay makes me laugh. Soap opera-level drama happening just outside Katniss' view.)

Okay, this got pretty long lol! I love the random curveball that I had to throw at the end.

This was genuinely a very fun ask to answer, because I don't think many of these details will ever make it to an actual fic (although who knows?)! And surprised and delighted that someone wanted to know more about Diana and Coin's situationship.

[nyxshadowhawk]

Names for Witches

An updated version of an earlier list! Good and evil witches alike:

Acrasia: A witch in The Faerie Queene who tempts and bewitches people, controlling their minds. Means "lacking command."

Agatha: Means "good." A disproportionately common name for witches in media, including the Enchantress from Beauty and the Beast, Aggie Prenderghast from ParaNorman, and Aggie Cromwell from Halloweentown.

Aglaonice: A Thessalian witch from the writings of Plutarch, who could draw the moon down from the sky (probably referring to an eclipse). She might just have been an astronomer!

Akantha: A Greek name meaning "thorn."

Akitophis: The name of an unkown goddess mentioned in the PGM. Possibly a name or epithet of Ereshkigal.

Alcina: An evil sorceress and seductress from Orlando furioso, and the title character of a series of operas. Meaning uncertain.

Alcmene: The mother of Heracles. Means “moon strength.”

Aradia: The title character of Charles Geoffrey Leland's book Aradia, or the Gospel of the Witches. A moon goddess and basically the witch version of Jesus, at least in that book.

Arcana: Latin word meaning “secret” (literally “to shut in a chest”), also a word for the two groups of cards in a tarot deck.

Argante: The Queen of Avalon in one Arthurian text, a version of Morgan le Fay. Might be related to argenta (“silver”).

Arianrhod: A Welsh goddess, associated with the moon, stars, fertility, and the passage of time. Means “silver wheel.”

Armida: The name of the witch/seductress in Tasso’s Jerusalem Delivered, meaning uncertain.

Asteria: A Titaness and the mother of Hecate, the goddess of falling stars, prophecy, astrology, and oneiromancy. Means “starry.”

Asterope: The mother of Circe in one telling. Means either “lightning” or “star-faced.” (Also the name of one of the Pleiades.)

Autumn: The season containing Halloween/Samhain.

Belladonna: Deadly nightshade, a poisonous herb. Means "beautiful woman."

Briar: Refers to thorny bushes. Could be associated with evil enchantments, beautiful roses, or both.

Brigid: Celtic fire goddess. Means either "strength, virtue" or "exalted one."

Cassandra: A Greek prophetess whom Apollo cursed so no one would believe her. Means "she who entangles men." Could be shortened to "Cassie."

Cerridwen: Welsh enchantress goddess associated with the sacred cauldron of divine inspiration. Means "white poet."

Circe: A sorceress in Greek mythology who turned men into animals and who was a priestess of Hecate. Means "hoop-round."

Despoina: A daughter of Demeter and Poseidon associated with the Eleusinian Mysteries. Means “the mistress.” Also an epithet of Hecate and Persephone.

Diana: Roman name of the goddess Artemis, the virgin goddess of the moon and the hunt. Associated with Dianic Wicca, a modern cult centered around this goddess.

Edana: Celtic, means “little fire.”

Elergia/Annowre: An evil sorceress in Arthurian legend who tries to seduce Arthur.

Endora: The Witch of Endor was a sorceress in the Bible.

Empusa: Female monsters that served Hecate. Means “one-legged.”

Erichtho: A horrifying, evil hag from Lucan’s Pharsalia. Meaning uncertain.

Esmeralda: The name of Granny Weatherwax (from Discworld), means "emerald."

Freya: Norse goddess of love, beauty, sex, and war, means "lady."

Ganeida: An Arthurian sorceress, a sister of Merlin.

Grimhilde: The name given to the Evil Queen in Disney's Snow White. Good for fairy-tale-esque witches, could also work for a kinda Gothy heroic character. Means “masked battle.”

Gwendolyn: A Welsh name meaning "white bow" or "white ring."

Habundia/Habonde: "Abundance," a name for the queen of witches or fairies, associated with Diana, Mab, Nicnevin, and Hecate.

Hazel: Witch-hazel is a shrub with yellow flowers, associated with witches because of its name and its medicinal properties. Actual hazel is an all-purpose wood for magic wands.

Hecate: The goddess of witchcraft, necromancy, the night, and the crossroads in Greek mythology. Means "worker from afar.”

Hecuba: The Queen of Troy, mother of Cassandra. Uncertain etymology, possibly related to "Hecate." She turned into a dog and became one of Hecate’s familiars.

Hellawes: An evil sorceress in Arthurian legend, who seeks to kill Lancelot so she can embalm his corpse and kiss it every day to spite Guinevere. Creepy.

Hellebore: A poisonous herb.

Ianira: A name of several nymphs in Greek mythology, possibly meaning "enchantress."

Ingrid: A Norse name combining the name of a fertility god and the word for "beautiful."

Ivy: A plant thought to drive out evil spirits.

Lamia: A vampire-like monster from Greek mythology that eats children. Name of the witch in the film version of Stardust.

Lilith: The Queen of Demons in Hebrew folklore, means "of the night,” referring to a screech owl.

Lilura: Basque name meaning "enchantment."

Louhi: An evil witch queen in Finnish mythology. Means "trance."

Luna: Roman goddess of the moon.

Maeve: Based on Irish Gaelic, means "intoxicating." Possibly related to Queen Mab.

Medea: Means "cunning," a sorceress in Greek mythology who helped Jason steal the Golden Fleece. Took violent revenge when he left her for another woman.

Melissa: An apprentice of Merlin, who rescues the victims of Alcina. Means “honeybee.”

Morana/Marzanna: The Slavic goddess of death and winter, means "death."

Morgana: Name of the famous sorceress Morgan le Fay from Arthurian legend. Means “sea circle.”

Morrigan: Irish goddess of death, war, and ravens, means “great queen” or “phantom queen.”

Morwenna: A Welsh name meaning “maiden,” the name of the witch in the book version of Stardust.

Nepenthe: A magical drug from the Odyssey that cures sorrow and causes forgetfulness.

Nicnevan: Queen of the Fairies in Scottish folklore, and the witch queen of Samhain. Means "daughter of the divine." Identified with Hecate.

Nimue: A name for the Lady of the Lake, and/or the sorceress who encased Merlin in a tree with his own magic. Might be related to a Greek word meaning "memory."

Nyx: The Greek primordial goddess of and personification of the night.

Orenda: Iriquois name meaning "magical power."

Persephone: Greek goddess of flowers and Queen of the Underworld. Means either "wheat-thresher" or alternatively "destroyer."

Ragana: Lithuanian Crone goddess of witchcraft.

Raven: The bird, associated with death, magic, and prophecy in multiple mythologies.

Sage: Unisex, a cleansing herb used in many magic spells. From Latin, “healing plant.”

Selene: The Greek goddess and personification of the moon.

Sibyl: Greek, “prophetess,” a word for an oracle.

Strega/Striga: "Strega" is the Italian word for witch (and a word for Italian neopaganism). "Striga" is the Latin word for witch and means "screech owl" (owls are in the order "strigiforms") and a genus of flower called "witchweed."

Sycorax: The name of the witch in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, who is probably based on Medea. Uncertain etymology.

Taika: Finnish, "magic spell."

Vervain: An herb with magical and medicinal properties.

Venefica: A Latin word that simply means “woman who poisons,” referring to a woman who works magic by means of potion-making.

Vivian: A name for the Lady of the Lake, means "lively."

Willow: A tree associated with witches and spirits

And, because I don’t want to neglect the men, here’s a few for male witches (I haven’t been able to find nearly as many!):

Abdecian: Means “to get by asking,” as in a magic spell. (Disclaimer: I have no idea where I got this name. I had it written in my notes, and I remember finding it somewhere, but when I searched it I got mainly my own content on various websites. So… idk.)

Abraxas: A magic word found throughout Greek magic spells as a name of power. The name of the “Great Archon” in Gnosticism, also the name of one of the horses of the Sun. Etymology uncertain. Also spelled Abrasax.

Alaric: Germanic, “all-powerful.”

Alistair: Scottish variant on Alexander, meaning “defender of mankind.” Similar to the chosen name of a certain famous occultist.

Altair: The brightest star in Aquila. Means “eagle.”

Amergin: A druid in Irish mythology, “born of song.”

Aspen: A white tree, associated with fairies. Its leaves turn golden in the fall, and they appear to “shimmer” in the breeze.

Arawn: The Welsh lord of the Otherworld and the dead, and leader of the Wild Hunt. Etymology uncertain; might be a variant of the Hebrew Aaron, “exaulted.”

Aurelius: Latin, “golden.”

Belenus: Pan-Celtic god of light and healing identified with Apollo, who gave his name to Beltane. Means “shining one.”

Briar: Refers to thorny bushes. Same fairy-tale associations.

Eliphas: Hebrew, “God is agile.” The pen name of the famous occultist Alphonse Constant.

Gwydion: Means “born of trees,” a magician and trickster god in Welsh mythology.

Hemlock: A poisonous herb used in spells.

Hunter: Self-explanatory. Modern witchcraft tends to involve the worship of forest gods associated with hunting.

Mabon: Welsh, “divine son,” a figure in Arthurian legend. His name was given to the autumn equinox in modern paganism.

Maddock: Welsh, “fortunate.”

Melchior: One of the Biblical magi, “king of light.”

Merle: A unisex name, from Latin, meaning “blackbird.”

Raven: The bird, associated with death, magic, and prophecy in multiple mythologies.

Rowan: Irish, “little red one,” the name of a tree with the ability to ward off evil.

Simon: Greek, from Hebrew, “hearkening.” The name of an ancient sorcerer, Simon Magus, who founded Gnosticism in early Christianity.

Soma: A name with various mystical meanings in different languages. In Greek, it means “body.” In Sanskrit it means “distill, extract” and refers to the drink of the gods, as well as being another name for the Hindu moon god, Chandra. In Finnish, it means “pretty.”

Tanwyn: Welsh, “white fire.”

Taliesin: A legendary bard in Welsh folklore, the son of Cerridwen. Means “shining brow.”

Valerian: A medicinal herb, used to induce sleep. “Health, vitality.”

[stoicbreviary]

The Life of Cato the Younger 1

Over the years, a good number of Stoics have come to consider Cato the Younger (95-46 BC) as a sort of martyr or patron saint for the philosophy. I am always wary of any hero worship, which too readily praises the strengths while conveniently overlooking the weaknesses, but however you cut it, the life of Cato provides a wonderful opportunity to reflect on what it means to strive for virtue as the highest human good. 

The man could certainly be stubborn, and he sometimes let his passions get the better of him. I take note of this because I also struggle with those flaws, even as my own life is not nearly so grand in scale. I find that I learn best from those who have already faced the same sort of trials. 

I have now read through Plutarch's Life of Cato the Younger numerous times, and each occasion leads me down a different path, often leaving me with more questions than answers. I take a keen interest in Plutarch's writings, as all the entries in the Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans are focused on examining the development of character, and yet I don't have to worry about him trying to whitewash the Stoics, since he was often quite critical of their views. Like any good thinker, he praises what is good while also finding a lesson in what is bad. 

I am not fluent enough in the subtleties of Roman history to share my own notes on Cato's conflict with Julius Caesar and his eventual role in the civil war, so I tend to encourage people to read Plutarch's account free from any of my annoying commentary. All of Plutarch's Lives have left me a bit wiser than I was before, though the story of Cato is the one I return to most often and eagerly. 

The translation used here is by Bernadotte Perrin, from the Loeb Classical Library (1919), which is in the public domain. 

—4/2001 

* * * * * 

Cato's family got its first luster and fame from his great-grandfather Cato (a man whose virtue gained him the greatest reputation and influence among the Romans, as has been written in his Life), but the death of both parents left him an orphan, together with his brother Caepio and his sister Porcia. Cato had also a half-sister, Servilia, the daughter of his mother.​ All these children were brought up in the home of Livius Drusus, their uncle on the mother's side, who at that time was a leader in the conduct of public affairs; for he was a most power­ful speaker, in general a man of the greatest discretion, and yielded to no Roman in dignity of purpose. 

We are told that from his very childhood Cato displayed, in speech, countenance, and in his childish sports, a nature that was inflexible, imperturbable, and altogether steadfast. He set out to accomplish his purposes with a vigor beyond his years, and while he was harsh and repellent to those who would flatter him, he was still more master­ful towards those who tried to frighten him. It was altogether difficult to make him laugh, although once in a while he relaxed his features so far as to smile; and he was not quickly nor easily moved to anger, though once angered he was inexorable. When, accordingly, he came to study, he was sluggish of comprehension and slow, but what he comprehended he held fast in his memory. And this is generally the way of nature: those who are well endowed are more apt to recall things to mind, but those retain things in their memory who acquire them with toil and trouble;​ for everything they learn becomes branded, as it were, upon their minds. 

It would appear, too, that Cato's reluctance to be persuaded made his learning anything more laborious. For, to learn is simply to allow something to be done to you, and to be quickly persuaded is natural for those who are less able to offer resistance. Therefore young men are more easily persuaded than old men, and sick folk, than those who are well, and, in a word, where the power to raise objections is weakest, the act of submission is easiest. 

However, we are told that Cato was obedient to his tutor, and did everything that was enjoined upon him, although in each case he demanded the reason and wanted to know the why and wherefore. And, indeed, his tutor was a man of culture, and more ready to reason with a pupil than to thrash him. His name was Sarpedon. 

[dwellordream]

“...Seasonal patterns are typical of nomad life. The pastoralists of ancient Scythia migrated from high summer pastures to winter camps. Each spring, bands came together to bury their preserved dead in kurgan cemeteries. In spring they took purifying saunas; met with other tribes annually for trade fairs; and competed in riding and shooting contests. Warfare and raiding may have been seasonal too, with bands of mostly males away for much of a year, returning each summer to the women with small children. For the Greeks these unfamiliar patterns could have given rise to the idea that the men and women lived separately, coming together once a year to mate.

Another factor is that small, isolated, close-knit tribes can avoid incest and inbreeding by mating with outsiders. (Whether or not they had an embryonic grasp of the scientific rationale, these breeders of horses and other animals would have noticed inbreeding effects.) Exogamous sexual unions among culturally related groups may well have taken place at certain times of the year. It was common practice to forge alliances by intermarriage. In some nomad groups polyamory or “free love” practices—multiple sexual partners for males and females, and polyandry (many “husbands” or men) and polygamy (many “wives” or women)—were accepted. 

Xenophon, for example, remarked on the indiscriminate, public sexual intercourse of the tattooed Mossynoeci tribe of Pontus. Herodotus reported that the Agathyrsi, the nomadic Thracian-Scythian tribe, mated freely in order to “foster sibling-like relationships and to eliminate jealousy and hatred.” According to Strabo, among the Siginni of the northwest Caucasus the most accomplished women charioteers could “cohabit with whomever they chose.” Strabo also described the sexual mores of the mountain tribes of Media (northwestern Iran): the men have up to five women and “likewise the women believe it honorable to have as many men as possible and consider less than five a calamity.” Polyandry was practiced by the women of another nomad group near the Caspian Sea, the Tapyri, who had children by several men. 

The Massagetae, a Saka-Scythian tribe of Central Asia, formed companionate couples with an “open marriage” option, according to Herodotus and Strabo. The men and women were free to initiate discreet sexual relations with others. The sign for sex in progress was a quiver hung outside a woman’s wagon. (In the Caucasian Nart sagas, the signal that a woman had a sexual guest was his lance stuck in the ground outside her abode.) Ancient Chinese sources also described polyandry and polyamory among the nomad tribes of Inner Asia (chapter 25). Ancient notions of virginal Amazons seem to be at odds with reports of Amazons as sexually active; some scholars argue that Amazons were imaginary figures intended to represent Greek girls out of male control.

Yet many features of the seemingly contradictory Greek descriptions of legendary Amazons may reflect misunderstood nomad customs. Greek girls were usually married by age eighteen, when they passed from the guardianship of their male relatives into their husband’s household. Greek men controlled their wives’ and daughters’ sexual activities. In contrast, there was no set “marriageable” age for girls in Scythia. Herodotus and other writers said that Saka-Scytho-Sarmatian girls did not marry until they had fought and/or killed at least one enemy. In antiquity “virgin” and “maiden” were not always technical terms meaning “intact hymen” or “lacking sexual experience”; the words could mean a sexually active woman who was “unmarried/unattached” to one man. 

As noted in chapter 1, only three Amazons were renowned for their lifelong vows of virginity. In some nomad cultures, unattached young women enjoyed liberties shocking to Greeks. In Thrace, for example, where “to live by war and plunder is most glorious,” Herodotus marveled that “they keep no watch over maidens and leave them altogether free.” Girls and boys in nomadic societies were trained alike in the arts of war. In the steppe nomad context, it would be reasonable to expect youths of both sexes to prove their worth before marrying and/or having children. A ritualized duel with a suitor, often from another tribe, could be one way of proving one’s mettle. 

The natural historian Aelian described courtship and marriage among the Saka (Massagetae) as a mock battle for dominance. “If a man wants to marry a maiden, he must fight a duel with her. They fight to win but not to the death. If the girl wins, she carries him off as captive and has power and control over him, but if she is defeated then she is under his control.” Aelian may have exaggerated the actual outcome based on the Greco-Roman difficulty in imagining a relationship grounded in equality. Similarly, the notion that only one partner could be dominant led classical writers to insist that any man who loved an Amazon had to either assert his power or submit to hers (see chapter 10). 

And yet Aelian’s description turns out to have a basis in reality. Among the nomads of Central Asia, serious and mock duels between heroes and heroines in epic poems often end in love. The traditional courtship customs of nomadic Kyrgyz people and others of ancient Saka lands entail arduous physical contests, such as racing and wrestling, to win a maiden’s love. The contests are sometimes said to determine which marriage partner wins (symbolic) dominance in the relationship (chapters 22–24). 

As in Atalanta’s lusty relationship with Meleager, Amazons were enthusiastic lovers of men of their own choosing. Herodotus’s story of the Sarmatians (chapter 3) told how Amazons and young Scythian men had sex, fell in love, and eloped to create a new tribe. The strangers shared sexual attraction and took mutual pleasure in intercourse, repeated over time and, in this case, with the same partners. The couples bonded and decided as a group to spend their lifetimes together, promising to raise their children free of imposed gender roles. Random sex among multiple partners, agreed upon among equals, appears in Strabo’s description of the seasonal mating of Amazons with their neighbors, the Gargarians. 

It is not clear whether the Gargarians of the Caucasus were believed to be an all-male tribe. (Their name comes from gargar, ancient Georgian for apricot, native to Colchis.) In Strabo’s account, the Gargarians had originally “lived with” the Amazons in Pontus and migrated with them over the Caucasus Mountains to the northern Black Sea region. At some point, the Gargarians “revolted” and a war ensued. The Gargarians and Amazons finally made peace. They agreed to “a compact that they would live independently but still have dealings with each other in the matter of children.” The clear understanding is that each tribe would benefit from this arrangement. 

And so, continues Strabo, following this ancient compact, each summer the Gargarian men go up to a mountain on the border with the Amazon territory to meet Amazonian women. First the men and women offer sacrifices together, signifying the religious propriety of what was to follow. Then, for two months, the Amazons and the Gargarians enjoy casual sex after dark with whoever is handy. The men return to their land and many of the women go home pregnant. Strabo goes on to say that baby girls born of these unions are raised by the Amazons, but “they take the boys to the Gargarians, who adopt and raise them as their own sons, despite uncertain paternity.”

Strabo’s account was drawn from two ancient historians of the Amazons, Metrodorus and Hypsicrates, both of Pontus (their works are unfortunately lost). Might his description reflect a garbled ethnological history of divisions and alliances within a tribe or confederation of tribes in which women were fighters and leaders? Scythian bands continually waxed and waned, united and divided, fought and allied. Modern scholars assume that Strabo intended his story to portray Amazons mating like wild animals solely for reproduction. But his account is complex and may well contain incomplete information about genuine past practices. The treaty between Amazons and the Gargarian men who were once closely associated with the Amazons specified that they would come together each summer to worship and procreate.

Annual gatherings would have involved reunions of friends and relations from past years. Ritualized sacrifice and consensual sex with multiple partners within a sacred precinct is not implausible. Seasonal rendezvous customs fostered exogamy and provided other important social and economic opportunities for scattered nomad groups. One ancient Greek writer clearly associated Amazon sexual activity with nomadic trade fairs: “Whenever the Amazons need children they go to the marketplace on the River Halys (western Pontus) and have intercourse with men.” Strabo reported that as many as seventy tribes of Sarmatia and the Caucasus region came together each year at Dioscurias on the coast of Colchis to socialize and trade. 

It is interesting that many Central Asian epics tell of heroes who travel long distances to find brides, and many non-Greek Amazon tales feature marriage to husbands from other tribes, practices that avoid incest and seal alliances. In antiquity, Amazons were assumed to be strongly heterosexual. The women warriors were, as Plutarch put it, “natural lovers of men.” Indeed, some ancient beliefs about physiognomy maintained that it would be natural for “manly” Amazons to be especially attracted to “manly” men. According to this theory, it was overly feminine women who would be attracted to loving other women. Virile women, like Amazons—who could overcome the weak, “effeminate” traits in themselves—were assumed to desire virile men.

…In Greek mythology, confronting a beautiful, passionately resisting, powerful Amazon aroused the Greek heroes to dominate, harm, rape, humiliate, and/or murder such threatening women (chapters 15–18). Yet outside the world of myth, in the Amazonian sexual encounters described by ancient historians and other authors, a consistent theme emerges of mutual sexual attraction, pleasurable consensual sex— plenty of it—and a sense of equality with male lovers. Sexual relations between equal men and women developed into long-term relationships in Herodotus’s story of the Sarmatians, who decided that gender equality was “fair and honorable.” 

Herodotus also reported that among the “civilized and righteous Issedonians the women share power equally with their men”. Companionable relationships characterized by equality and a sense of interdependence, like those the Greeks reported among Scythians in antiquity, are traditional and practical ways of life in many nomadic and seminomadic cultures. The ancient Nart sagas of the Caucasus, for example, frequently allude to the shared authority, responsibility, interdependence, love, and affection of male and female “soul mates.” Mutual respect was seen as a necessary condition for a husband and wife. 

Early modern European travelers in the Caucasus remarked on the “great freedom and respect accorded to women” and the “humanity and affection” and friendship of husbands and wives. Klaproth remarked, for example, that in the Caucasus “the wife is the companion, and not the menial servant, of the husband.” “Easy camaraderie” and “blurred lines between sex roles” are phrases used to describe the egalitarian lifestyle of some nomads living today in Kazakhstan and other ancient Scythian lands. Among the polytheistic Kalash tribe of northwest Pakistan the women have a remarkable degree of sexual freedom (some Kalash claim descent from Alexander’s Greeks and local women). 

…Did the Greeks ever suspect what they might have been missing by suppressing women? Greeks also held a belief that sex between equals— especially gods and heroes but also mortals—could be exciting and fulfilling. That idea anticipates some modern scientific studies correlating gender equality with more frequent sex and happier coupling. Perhaps the popularity of Amazon stories among the Greeks served as a kind of “what if/if only” compensation. The Greek historian Xenophon wrote an oft-quoted dialogue in which a man instructs his young bride on the proper duties of an ideal Greek wife. Yet, like Herodotus, Xenophon also expressed admiration for other societies in which women, like men, were encouraged to engage in vigorous sports like “running and feats of strength” and outdoor activities. Xenophon remarked that “if both mothers and fathers were physically fit their children would be much stronger.”

A pair of lesser-known passages by Xenophon illustrate fascinating real-life situations suggesting that Greeks could enjoy envisioning men and women on more equal terms. In Xenophon’s Symposium (380 BC) we witness the growing excitement of Greek men at a banquet as they observe a steamy sexual encounter of two passionate, willing partners. A handsome young man and woman—noncitizen slaves of equal status—have already entertained the men with choreographed, sinuous gymnastics and a dangerous sword dance–duel. Now they act out a sex scene, taking the roles of the mythic lovers Dionysus and Ariadne. As the two kiss and caress one another, the men, says Xenophon, suddenly realize that the actors are not simply reciting a typical “burlesque” script. The two people are really in love and lust. 

Watching genuine lovers of equal status on the verge of satisfying their obvious mutual desire arouses the men to a high pitch, says Xenophon. As the pair discreetly withdraw from view, the bachelors in the audience vow to get married and the married men rush home to their wives, eager to replicate what they have just seen. Xenophon includes another remarkable account of gender equality in his historical memoir of leading his army of ten thousand Greek soldiers back to Greece after a failed campaign in Babylonia (400 BC). Their long march took them north from Persia through Armenia to Pontus, the fabled Amazon homeland on the Black Sea. 

Along the way, Xenophon says, the Greek soldiers took “some boys and many women captive, depending on their sexual preferences.” Like the boys, the “beautiful and tall” women and girls of local villages were at first exploited as sexual objects and made to perform daily chores for the men. But during the months of shared hardships and dangers crossing the Armenian mountains in winter, Xenophon explains that a new relationship began to develop between the individual men and the foreign women. They were gradually becoming trusted companions dependent on each other for survival. 

Several times the men risked their lives to save the women. The women took up the army’s war cry at crucial moments. Camping together in the cold, hostile land, fending off deadly attacks from natives, and learning each other’s languages and personalities, the Greek soldiers and the barbarian women forged bonds that made them essentially equals. Xenophon’s Greek army had taken on some of the attributes that made Scythian bands so formidable: everyone, male and female, was a potential fighter. Xenophon illustrates this new relationship in his account of the banquet that he, as general, gave for the local Paphlagonian chiefs, because his army needed safe passage through their territory west of Pontus. 

To entertain their guests, the Greek men performed their traditional pyrrhic war dances. The choreographed military moves in full armor with weapons and shields was also a not-so-subtle display of martial prowess. Then one of the foreign women at the banquet donned some Greek armor and took up a light shield to “perform a pyrrhic dance with grace.” The amazed Paphlagonian chieftains asked whether these women fought alongside the Greeks. The Greeks assured their guests, “These very women drove off the King of Persia!” In this extraordinary reply, the Greek soldiers were claiming—boasting!—that they had Amazons as their companions in love and war.”

- Adrienne Mayor, “Sex and Love.” in The Amazons: Lives and Legends of Warrior Women across the Ancient World

[mairalynnwrites]

The 5 Times Johanna Mason Thought She Met Her Soulmate and the 1 Time She Was Sure Of It

The first time Johanna Mason met her soulmate, she was being sent to her death. It was a glance as she walked to her place in line for interviews. A glance at an older mentor, a handsome man whom she recognized from the gossip she had heard about him from the moment she got on the train. Finnick Odair, walking sex on legs, according to the capital. She groaned a little in the back of her throat. Of course she would meet her damn soulmate just before she died. And of course he had to be the prostitute of the capital. What was odd was that she did not see the flashing colors her childhood friends had described to her, merely shades of brown. That meant that this could be some sort of mistake, right?

  Their eyes locked, and she noticed that she still couldn’t make out the color of his eyes. Odair’s back turned to her, saying a few words to his tributes before marching straight past her and out the door. Asshole. The second time Johanna Mason met her soulmate was after she had won her games, covered in the blood of more people than she wished to count. When she came back to after being healed in the hovercraft, he was sitting in the corner of the room.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked, standing and put his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“You’re not my mentor”

“Duly noted,” He smiled a wry grin before continuing. “I pulled a few strings with your mentor, she’s waiting for you on the ground, no worries.”

“Oh, so you slept with her?” Johanna raised her eyebrows, her lips pulling into a smirk.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business” He noted, making sure the door was closed. Her hackles rose, and she stiffened on the bed she was sitting in, survival instincts more present than ever. He put his hands up as if to placate her, saying “There’s no lock, if you want to leave, you will have no difficulties from me, I just thought you might prefer to have this discussion in private.”

“What, you think that since I’m your soulmate, I’m just going to jump your bones?” Her eyes searched the tables near her, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon by or against her. He said that he meant no harm, but so had a lot of people in her life, and that sentence never ended up being true.

Odair chuckled under his breath, moving to sit on the end of her bed, his hands still raised to the sides of his head. “No. As my soulmate, there’s some things you should know, before you accidentally say anything in front of the people.” He moved even closer to her, and motioned to a scalpel that had been accidentally left on the table beside her by the people who healed her. “Grab it. It will make you feel safe and we need to be as close and quiet as possible in order to not be overheard on cameras” He whispered, moving his upper body closer to her as she hurriedly grabbed the scalpel next to her, holding it against his throat in silent saying of ‘don’t get any closer’.

  He took a long breath, looking out the partially obscured window. “You can’t say anything about us being soulmates. You have to know, I’m not a capital prostitute by choice. You know better than anyone else that the capital is willing to do everything in their power to keep people controlled.”

She did know. She had just killed children, of course she knew. But there was something glinting in his eyes as he watched warily out the window, a bead of blood rising on his neck from where the scalpel was pressed to it. Oh. They had threatened him in some way. That’s what he meant. Then why did he say that- “You don’t mean that he’s going to want me to fuck half the Capitol.” She whispered to him, her eyes widening.

“You can’t tell anyone or they’ll kill us both. He sees the same thing in you he saw in me. Please.” His eyes looked back at hers, his voice dipping on the last word, ending in a silent plea.

“I just won these damn games and now you’re telling me I have no choice but to become a prostitute?” She glared at him, careful not to raise her voice as much as she wanted to.

“He’ll give you an ultimatum. Your life or your family’s. It’s just an illusion of a choice. But I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m here to tell you that you need to say that you need to say that you can’t see any color. You’ve never met your soulmate. I came here to talk to you about what is expected from you as a victor if anyone asks.”

“God, this is such bullshit” She whispered, a small tear slipping down her cheek. He reached up and wiped it with his thumb, the scalpel still against his throat. Though she had no intention of using it, it felt good to have a defense against the older man.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He put his forehead against hers, and for once in her life, she felt still.

The third time Johanna Mason met her soulmate, she was once again being sent to her death, but with a plan this time. Although technically her and Finnick had talked briefly over the years, they had never discussed their situation, never discussed the feeling in their chests the longer they were apart from each other. Johanna’s family was dead, and she wasn’t willing to let the Capitol kill her soulmate too. The first night at the tribute building was haunting. She took to the roof, the cold air waking her. For a moment she entertained the thought of jumping, but she knew the Capitol would never let a tribute kill themselves. Where was the entertainment in that?

She didn’t even hear the boots walk up behind her. Damn it, she was so distracted by her thoughts she completely missed Odair walking up beside her. “Before my games I almost tried to kill myself by jumping off this building.” He said, a lilt in his voice. “I suppose it’s good I didn’t in a way, I did get to meet my soulmate after all.” He said with a smile evident in his voice, nudging his shoulder against hers, sending shocks from where he touched her.

“Damn, Odair, I didn’t know we were that close” She snarked, but with a smile on her face. Somehow, even with the possibility that she could die in the next few days, it was hard to be upset around Finnick.

  “I’ve got a question for you, Mason.” He teased, leaning against the railing, facing her. “Did you really strip in the elevator in front of Haymitch, of all people?”

  “Did you see my dress? It was hideous. I simply couldn’t stand to be in it anymore.” Her eyebrows raised, a small chuckle easing past her lips. “I’m surprised that you didn’t do the same, that net sure didn’t look comfortable.”

Finnick groaned, “Don’t remind me.” She laughed, the first time in a long time that she actually meant it. “Wow, if I knew that my misery caused you to laugh like that, I should have made myself miserable earlier.”

“Are there cameras on the roof, Mr. Secrets?” Johanna asked, taking a step closer to him.

  “No. We aren’t supposed to be up here.” He replied, glancing around to make sure of his statement.

“Good.”

  Her lips were on his. She didn’t care that she could die in a few days. Didn’t care that she was risking her life for a whiny District 12 girl. She only felt.

The fourth time Johanna Mason met her soulmate, she had barely made it onto the hovercraft in time to be rescued. Finnick was waiting in the main room, and without even thinking about it, she started running. She had just seen him minutes ago, but she was so full of relief that he had made it, that he wasn’t dead or captured, that she kissed him. Right there in the middle of the hovercraft, not even caring that Plutarch and Katniss’ other boy toy were trying to have a conversation. She placed a hand on his cheek, smoothing her thumb over the scabbed up cut on his face. 

“We’re okay.” She whispered, for once allowing herself to be vulnerable.

“For now.” He whispered back, his own hands coming up to cradle her face.

“We can do this. She can do this.” Johanna whispered, saying what they both knew to be true.

The fifth time Johanna Mason met her soulmate was when they were gathering to leave for the capitol. She reached her hand out to his, grasping two of her fingers in her own. “If we both make it out of there in one piece, I’ll marry your sorry ass.” She said, trying to use sarcasm to cover her fear. It didn’t work.

“When we make it out of there, we will have the biggest wedding the world has ever seen.” He said, emphasizing the first word.

“I’ll make Annie my bridesmaid, I think.” She could barely say the words now. Her fear overtook her.

“She’d like that. You think Betee would mind being my groomsman?” He questioned, a smile in his voice.

She laughed sharply. “We really do love the crazies, don’t we?”

“Crazy attracts crazy, love.” He told her, taking her hands in his, noticing that they were both slightly shaking. “I love you. When we make it out of there, I promise I’ll never let anything get in our way again. We waited so long to have our share of happiness. We deserve a lifetime of peace.”

“Peace sounds nice.” She sniffed, trying and failing to stop her tears from falling. “And I love you too, I have for a while now.

“I know.”

The one time Johanna Mason was sure she had met her soulmate was in the capitol sewers, watching as her soulmate was being eaten alive by mutant beasts. “Katniss, you know what you need to do” She said, not being able to take her eyes off of Finnick's body. She listened to the quiet whispers of Nightlock and watched as her soulmate was granted a quick death, instead of a torturous death. 

Her colors faded.

The world was black and white again.

[ilguna]

Tacenda - Chapter Twenty Eight (f.o)

Summary: you’ll never truly be free from the Capitol.

Word Count; 4.2k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION, DEATH

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“You need to find some relatives, that's what you need to do.” you snap, Coin looks up, surprised.

She thought that the conversation was over after her statement of ‘put her out there with the other Capitol people’ as if a fucking five year-old would survive out there. Whether she wants to admit it or not, Capitol people don’t stick together because they’re Capitol people.

They have the same amount of human emotion that you guys do. No matter how altered their faces are, or how careless they feel about the districts. It doesn’t matter if they were for the games, if they sponsored tributes in hopes that they would be a reward when they win. 

They’re human. And so throwing the little blonde girl out there on the streets with the idea that some person will come along and take her, is ludicrous. And you can’t fucking believe that just came out of Coin’s mouth.

“Excuse me?” she stops gathering the papers on the table.

“You fucking heard me.” You place your hands palm-down onto the wooden table, leaning forward as if you’re getting in her face. But you’re feet away from her, “This is your fault.”

She laughs, looking at Plutarch from the corner of her eye nervously, before standing up straight.

“Don’t give me that fucking look.” you point at her, “It was your fucking soldiers from District Thirteen that shot those innocent Capitol people! It was your men who had gotten that girl’s mom killed, never mind all those bombs that had also gone off around them!”

“(Y/n)--” Haymitch begins.

“Stop.” Finnick tells him, “Let her speak.”

“When I got to that base where Paylor and Lyme were, I was told that the soldiers were ordered not to shoot at Capitol citizens because they would be anxious already. So what gave you, and all those other meat-headed morons the idea to set off bombs and shoot into a crowd of people?” she doesn’t say anything, “There were hundreds of fucking people there, with their own children. That girl I picked up is so incredibly lucky that she wasn’t trampled before I had gotten there.

“The fact that you’re going to be on the open ballot is almost appalling.” you spit, “You lack all the shreds of human decency, and you’re supposed to be a fucking leader! I would do better, and I don’t know a single fucking thing about leading people!”

She doesn’t have her smile anymore, she’s straight-faced. Clearly this wasn’t the type of reaction she was hoping to get out of you. As if you’d lack all sympathy for the people out there.

“These Capitol citizens don’t have a single idea of war.” you remind her, “They haven’t seen a day of something this horrid. Most of those people weren’t even alive when the first rebellion had happened. You’re blaming them for something their ancestors did--” you laugh, shaking your head at her, “--just like how we were being punished for something our ancestors did. You’re no better than Snow.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Coin says.

“Really?” Finnick laughs a little bit, “I would go that far.”

You push yourself off of the table, “Do better. You may have gotten us to this point, but that doesn’t make you a saint. Anyone with half a brain would know that the power is getting to you.”

You and Finnick go to leave the room, but he pauses for a moment, “The next time you call us for a meeting, make sure it’s important.”

The people guarding the door open it for you two to pass through, and shortly after they shut it too.

“Un-fucking-believable.” you roll your eyes.

“We should check up on the girl.” He tells you, “And get you checked out too. You haven’t gone to the ward yet.”

“I know.” you say, “Let’s go.”

The both of you walk through the mansion. You’ve been in here twice before, years ago. Your games, and then Annie’s games for the celebrations. Neither times felt good to be here. It felt dirty, because Finnick was swept away the first time, and Annie couldn’t stop crying the second time.

She didn’t want anything to do with this place. She wanted to go home to her family, and be done with all of this. By then you’d already told her that she wouldn’t be mentoring, not over your cold, dead body.

Snow might not be inside of the building right now, but that stupid cologne he sprays on his flowers lingers through the air anyway. It’s every room you go into, and the few times you’ve stepped outside, there’s a faint scent there too. No matter where you go, or what you do to try and get it away, it stays.

Finnick holds the door open for you when you guys get to it. The second that you step in, you’ve turned heads. One of them being a nurse, and the other being the little girl.

“Hey, sweetheart.” you give her a smile and a tiny little wave.

She hasn’t really talked to you guys just yet. She’ll let you know when she’s hungry and needs help using the bathroom, but it doesn’t go beyond that. She won’t tell you her name at all. It’s reasonable, since you guys are a pair of strangers to her, but you wish that she’d get over it already.

If you guys can relocate her, get her last name or her mom’s name or something, then you can try and send out a message to the Capitol citizens. Get someone to come forward and claim their granddaughter, niece or daughter or whatever she may be to that person.

The girl cracks a smile when she sees you two. She looks a lot like Finnick, with her blonde hair and green eyes. If there were any baby pictures of Finnick, she would have to be mistaken for a twin if you put her and his picture side-by-side. You didn’t really pay attention to it before, since you were so caught up in trying to keep her alive.

Which you later found out that Gale wasn’t too happy about it. The fact that you were trying to save the child of some refugee. He had the audacity to say it to your face, saying that you might as well be one of them. He must have been hurt in that moment, but either way, you reminded him that you won the fucking hunger games, and you have sympathy for those people. He’s just a radical rebel.

The fact that someone like you, someone who won the games, and has mentored others in an attempt to get them to win, has sympathy for those people and he doesn’t, is ridiculous. All he had to do for a year was go underground to mine coal, while you were sending children off to their deaths. 

You, someone who was put on display, sponsored by those same citizens with intentions of greed. Someone who had killed kids older than her in a savage game made for the entertainment of those citizens. Someone who had gone through years of nightmares, watching as they get better only for them to worsen at the mention of a second games.

You, someone who had helped set forth that fucking rebellion. You, a helper. You, a protector of their so precious mockingjay. You had ditched your family right when they had got back just so you could be even more help. And you saved their lives multiple fucking times on the way here. 

It was you who had saved Katniss from getting worse burns than she had when she was on fire. He has you, and Finnick, and Cressida, and Pollux and Peeta to thank for getting here. And everyone else who had died on the way. Yet, you don’t see him turning on them.

Psychotic and out of line. It’s hard to be a fan of someone with the brain the size of a peanut with only their agenda on the front lobe all hours of the day.

“How is she doing?” you ask the nurse.

She’s a nurse from thirteen, flown out to help the people that are brought in here. 

“Healthy, she’s got a few cuts here and there.” the nurse moves some of the curls out of the girl’s face, “Still not talking.”

“I can imagine.” you say, sitting on a clean bed across from her, “I’m here for a checkup of my own. Maybe even an ultrasound?”

Finnick perks up considerably, “Ultrasound?”

The nurse laughs, “Sure, I’ll be right back.”

She walks off, leaving you three together for a moment.

You look back at the little girl. She’s playing with a bracelet around her wrist, and she looks away from you guys, fixated on it, “I need your help, okay? Can you just nod and shake your head?”

She nods a little bit, and you and Finnick both let out a breath of relief.

“Okay,” Finnick shifts on his feet, “Do you have any brothers, sisters?”

The girl shakes her head.

“Do you have a dad?” again, she shakes her head, “What about a grandma or grandpa?”

“No.” her voice is quiet.

You nod, looking at Finnick. You mouth the words, “Orphan.”

“What’s your name, then?” Finnick asks softly, giving her the signature smile. He creeps towards her playfully, before sitting on the bed across from her, “You can’t tell me you don’t have a name.”

She frowns a little bit, and then her voice is really soft, quiet, “Caelina.”

“Hey, that’s a pretty name!” you tell her, “I like it a lot. Guess what? His name is Finnick, and mine is (Y/n).”

She nods, and you can see she’s relaxing.

The nurse comes back into the room, wheeling a portable ultrasound machine. She plugs it into the wall effortlessly, and gets the machine started up.

“Should be a little cold.” The nurse says, making you lay back and pull your shirt up.

Finnick gets up again, moving towards you to see. The nurse places the wand on your stomach, and you watch as she moves it around. It takes her a moment before she finally decides on where it needs to be.

“Ah!” She looks happy, looking over to you and Finnick, “Do you know their gender just yet?”

“We haven’t had an ultrasound just yet.” you say, “Too much havoc, I found out barely a week and a half ago.”

“Well, I can tell you now,” She smiles, looking back at the screen, “Congrats, it’s a boy.”

You laugh, looking at Finnick to see that he’s grinning from ear to ear. You can even see the tears in his eyes as he moves closer, “Can we get a picture?”

“Of course.”

“It’s a boy.” you breathe, reaching up to cup Finnick’s face, he leans down to kiss you.

“Delmore it is.”

Laughing again, Finnick presses a kiss to your forehead before moving to grab the picture from the nurse. The both of you look over it with care as if you didn’t just see it on the screen. Somehow it’s different, being able to carry it around.

“We need to tell someone.”

“Like who?”

“Katniss, Peeta, Johanna--”

“Johanna was the first to know!” You wipe down your stomach with the rag, and then set it off on the metal table.

“Speaking of which, how did she end up being the first?” he asks, helping you off of the bed.

You give him a cheeky smile, “Because she’s the one that told me I was pregnant before I had even taken the test.”

Finnick shakes his head, “Impossible.”

“She’s a fast thinker.” you tell him, and then look to Caelina, “Wanna go meet some of our friends?”

She nods, and Finnick moves forward to help her off the bed. Once she’s on her feet, she stretches and skips around the room, to the door.

“Please tell me you and Johanna are best friends now.”

You laugh, “Maybe a little. She doesn’t like me entirely just yet, but we’ll get there.”

It’s quiet for a few moments, before he laughs at himself, “We should make her the godmother.”

Thinking about it, you join in on his laughter, “She’d fucking hate that.”

“And it’s exactly why it’s so genius.”

--

Taking care of a child is a lot more difficult than you thought it would be. Of course, you know that they have human needs, and they’re going to be resistant, but you didn’t know how much. It’s making you rethink this whole baby thing.

It took about half an hour before Caelina stopped crying over her mom--which you’re not entirely mad about, she did just lose her and you and Finnick are still a bunch of strangers. It’s the fact that it was so blaringly loud that was the upsetting part. But you got her to calm down enough so you could hold her.

And for this past hour you’ve been rocking her in your arms, trying to get her down for a nap. There’s no much you can do in this mansion, but you’d like to sit down, yourself. Finnick has tried to offer to take Caelina from you a few times, then Caelina will start fussing and throwing a fit again. Pulling herself out of the doze she was just in.

“Could give her to the nurse.” Finnick says to you.

“She wouldn’t have the time to do this.” you tell him, brushing her curls back, “Plus I think she’s starting to get exhausted.”

Finnick is sitting in one of the arm chairs, a notepad in hand while he sketches. He’s shown you a few of them already, and all of them have to do with you holding onto the girl. 

“You’re going to be a good mom.” Finnick says, he tilts his head as he draws, “I just know it.”

“It’s because I have thirteen years of experience already.”

Finnick looks up, confused on how that would be possible, and then it dawns on him. That you had helped raise Alyssum. You’re basically a mother to her already, just like how your brothers are like her dad. The three of you are all protective over her.

“I can’t wait to see them again.” you say, looking down at the girl, “I’m starting to feel awful for leaving.”

“You did the right thing.” Finnick reassures you, “Had you not come, then we wouldn’t have had the extra pair of hands and eyes. You know your limits, and clearly I don’t.”

You laugh.

At the sound of knocking, Finnick looks up from the notepad. He takes it upon himself to set it all down to go answer the door. You trail behind him a little, still moving rhythmically to keep Caelina asleep.

Haymitch stands there, “We’ve got a meeting, it’s important. Both of you need to come.”

You adjust the girl in your arms carefully, moving forward, “I can’t put her down.”

“That’s fine.” Haymitch says.

You and Finnick leave the room with Haymitch, listening as he explains what’s about to happen. Coin is gathering a meeting of all the victors that are still alive. You, Finnick, Katniss and Peeta, Johanna and Annie, Haymitch and Enobaria, and finally, Beetee.

“Enobaria is still alive?”

“Loyalist.” Finnick mutters, Haymitch chuckles at it.

“She was let off the hook for trying to kill you guys in the arena.” Haymitch says, “She wasn’t in the alliance, and it was obvious.”

“Loyalist.” Finnick repeats.

The district people outside the doors open them for you guys. You enter the room first, taking in who’s already standing inside. Everyone but Katniss, it seems.

“(Y/n).” Johanna says, and then she stares at your arms, a little weirded out, “That was fast.”

“Not mine.” you tell her, giving a quick glare to Coin.

“Capitol baby.” Finnick says, the two of you head over to where Johanna and Annie are, “(Y/n) got her before she was shot. Unfortunately, her mom isn’t…”

Johanna nods, and you hold an arm out for a hug. She rolls her eyes, but accepts it. You move onto Annie quickly after, happy to see that she’s still doing alright. As for everyone else, you could care less about. You were just with Peeta for a couple of days, and Enobaria…

She’s District Two. You and her have a past. You can’t say you’re happy to see her, but you’re glad that she’s still alive. After Snow had basically killed every living victor in the districts just for being alive. He thought that they were getting an attitude, thinking that they were better than they were after Katniss and Peeta had won the games.

Obviously, some people had got a hall pass.

You and Finnick grab the two chairs between Johanna and Annie, with you sitting closest to Annie. You’re careful when it comes to not waking Caelina. Fortunately, she seems comfortable and asleep. You guys are going to be lucky when it comes to talking, because she’s a deep sleeper. You’ve experienced this already.

A couple minutes later, Katniss enters the room, “What’s this?”

“The remaining victors, won’t you join us?” Coin asks, motioning to the chairs in front of you guys.

Katniss looks apprehensive, but moves to take her seat next to Peeta.

“I have invited you all here for several reasons. But first, I have an announcement, I have taken the burden and the honor of declaring myself interim president of Panem.”

You can’t help the look that comes over your face at that.

Haymitch coughs, “Interim? Exactly, how long is that?”

“We have no way of knowing for certain. But it’s clear that the people are far too emotional right now to make a rational decision.”

“I think it’s a little unfair that you’re declaring yourself to be anything.” you mutter, fixing Caelina.

Katniss is glaring straight ahead at Coin, there’s clearly something she knows that you guys don’t. You should have paid her a visit a couple of days ago to see exactly what she’s aware of. So that you’re coming into this situation with every bit of knowledge you can spare.

“We’ll plan an election when the time is right.” Coin says, “But I have called you all here for a far more important vote, a symbolic vote. This afternoon we will execute Snow. Hundreds of his accomplices also await their deaths, Capitol officials, peacekeepers, torturers, gamemakers.”

The thing about peacekeepers, is that they’re taken from the career districts. District Two, if you’re remembering correctly. They were regular people like you once were, and they’re made to be the peacekeeper. What you’re saying is, it's not necessarily their fault. If Coin wants to execute all those peacekeepers, you’re thinking hundreds of people.

“But the danger is, once we begin the rebels won’t stop calling for retribution. Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. So, I offer an alternative plan. Majority for may approve it, no one may abstain.” She says carefully, “My proposal is this; in lieu of these barbaric executions, we hold a symbolic hunger games.”

Haymitch slowly lowers his cup, and you can almost see the blood drain from some of these people’s faces. You give a look to Finnick, unsure of how to react to a proposal like that. But it slowly sinks in, that you knew that this would happen. You clearly yelled at her a couple days ago for being as wretched as Snow, so this really isn’t a surprise.

Johanna starts laughing, “You want to have another hunger games with the Capitol’s children?”

Suddenly, you’re very aware of Caelina’s presence in your arms, and you can’t help but pull her a little closer. The idea of putting a kid like Caelina inside of an arena...

“You’re joking.” Peeta says.

Coin shakes her head, “Not in the slightest.”

Haymitch scoffs, “Is this Plutarch’s idea?”

“It was mine.” Coin says.

“Not a surprise there.” Finnick almost snaps.

“It balances the need for revenge,” Coin tries to justify it, “With the least loss of human life. You may cast your votes.”

“No.” Peeta’s answer is immediate, “No, obviously not, this is crazy.”

Johanna leans forward, “I think it’s more than fair. Snow’s got a granddaughter. I say yes.” She looks at Peeta.

“So do I.” Enobaria says, “Let them have a taste.”

“You guys, this way of thinking is what started the uprises.” Peeta says.

“I vote no, with Peeta.” Annie says.

“I vote no, too.” Finnick says, he’s shaking his head.

“After what they did to you?” Johanna asks, “After what Snow had done?”

Finnick gives her a glare, and you can feel your hands shaking.

“No. We need to stop viewing each other as enemies.” Beetee says.

What’s the benefit of another games? What would be the benefit of it? Watching another twenty-three kids die? But this time it’s hopeless Capitol children who don’t know the first thing about actually surviving?

The eyes turn to you, Katniss and Haymitch.

“I get to kill Snow.” Katniss says.

“I expected no less of you.” Coin says.

After a moment of silence, “Then I vote yes. For Prim.”

You can feel Annie and Finnick’s eyes boring into you as you swallow thickly. Katniss looks over to you, a dead expression. There has to be more behind this. Katniss is always up to something even when she isn’t.

“(Y/n)?” Finnick urges.

You sigh, shaking your head, “Yeah, send them in. Even out the playing field.”

Finnick opens his mouth to say something, but closes it.

“Haymitch?” Coin asks.

You and Katniss share a look one more time before she looks at him next. She’s definitely planning something, because there’s no way she’d say yes. After everything that had happened, she wouldn’t want to wish it upon anyone else. She’s too empathetic for it.

Haymitch takes his time to think before making his decision, “I’m with the mockingjay.”

“That carries the vote, excellent. We’ll announce the games tonight, after the execution.” Coin says.

--

It’s weird, you have to admit it. Standing out here, in front of every Capitol citizen that could afford to come. Having to walk past all those people from the districts, knowing you look like an ant from far away.

Finnick wasn’t too happy about your vote, thinking that it was incredibly stupid that you had said that in the first place. Especially since you had been holding a Capitol toddler in your hands at the time. Like that wasn’t some form of hypocrisy. And in return, you told him that Katniss said yes, and you were curious on why. 

You just had to follow.

Now, you all stand out here. Right where the tribute parade takes place. Where the horses normally pause for a few minutes to let Snow give his speech. You stand on the end, this time no Caelina in your arms. To your right is Finnick, then Annie, and then Beetee. There’s a gap in the middle, where Katniss is supposed to stand. On the other side is Beetee, Peeta, Haymitch and Johanna.

Where Snow normally gives his speech, is Coin. Standing proud in front of ‘her’ people. In front of you is Snow, strapped to a beige pole. You and him stare at each other, there’s a small smile on his face.

The people that were standing behind the drummers, slowly emerged between the cracks to follow Katniss out. She’s the one leading, and there’s about a hundred people behind her. The rebel soldiers that had originally stormed the Capitol. Some of those people are undoubtedly the same people who killed Caelina’s only family.

The people stop moving after a certain point, and Katniss goes as far as to pass you guys up, getting even closer to Snow.

“I hate this.” You tell Finnick, grabbing his hand. He squeezes it tightly, “This is wrong.”

“Gut feeling?” he asks.

“No,” you look behind you guys again, and Finnick follows, “It’s just off.”

Once Katniss stops walking, Coin starts, “Welcome, to the new Panem. Today, on the avenue of tributes all of Panem, a free Panem will watch more than a mere spectacle. We are gathered to witness a historic moment of justice. Today, the greatest friend to revolution will fire the shot to end all wars.

“May her arrow signify the end of tyranny., and the beginning of a new era. Mockingjay, may your aim be as true as your heart is pure.” Coin holds her arms out.

You press your lips together, you don’t like the energy that’s being given off here.

Katniss reaches for an arrow, pulling it out. She holds up her bow and aims it at Snow. It’s a long moment, where you’re all waiting for her to shoot Snow. But then she aims the arrow up swiftly, and let’s it free.

You don’t flinch once it hits Coin’s chest. She falls to her knees, and leans forward, making her fall down to the next level. There’s outraged yelling from the crowd of people behind you.

“We need to get out of the way.” Finnick says, grabbing a hold of Annie’s arm too as he begins to pull you away.

You can see Katniss reach for something in her arm, but Peeta gets to her. A couple seconds later, there’s a couple of people pulling her back. She’s going to be in such fucking trouble for this. 

You watch as people rush forward going to mob Snow.

[jeannereames]

Hi, Professor. Sorry to disturb you. I have several(may be lots of) questions to ask. 1. I noticed that Peter Green considered the information that Roxana had a miscarriage as unreliable, while believing that Alexander didn't have his first child until a few months before he died. He even seemed to suggest (if I understood him correctly) that Alexander might have intended to let Hephaisition take over his empire. Do you think such guess make sense? (At any rate, I wonder that had Alexander ever considered that if he died suddenly, the empire would fall into chaos without an heir?) 2. I noticed Diodorus made the following note: ‘Each of the generals and Friends tried to meet the king's desires and made likenesses of Hephaestion in ivory and gold and other materials which men hold in high regard.’ So were the likenesses eventually burned together in the cremation, if we speculate according to custom?  3. I notice you've been asked why Alexander tore down the battlements of nearby cities. I thought it was weird, too. As Diodorus recording that Alexander tore down the city walls of Babylon to build the square and the pyre (if I understood him correctly, I’m not sure), is it possible that he and Plutarch were writing about the same thing actually? (But the locations seemed to be different, so it’s just a wild guess) 4.Does Arrian's record mean that Alexander hadn't been on official business for two months or so because of his mourning? Was it also because of mourning that he didn't leave Ecbatana until the winter, or it's because he was resting his army? 5.(not question) I just want to say that I really love your Kampaspe and Kleopatra and really hope to see them more!!! They were both very attractive and, in my opinion, quite rational, unlike many of the stereotypes of women that still exist in literature today.THank you very much

Roxana's Miscarriage

There were several questions in one ask, so I’m dividing them up, but because of how Tumblr operates, only the first will look as if it’s from an ask. So, for future reference, if you’ve got two or more questions, especially if they don’t relate to each other, maybe submit each separately? If I answer them all in one post, it’ll (probably) be long even for me (which is saying something).

Now, as for Roxana’s miscarriage/short-lived son, Peter Green is right that it’s recorded in a late source of dubious merit (the Metz Epitome 70). That said, I’m inclined to believe it. The idea of a very young woman miscarrying while on a difficult trek in a foreign country with food she’s not used to eating and probable disease is perfectly reasonable, even if she’d have been far better taken care of than most of the soldiers. Nor is it a surprise the event was excluded from the main biographies. As I’ve noted before, children who died young, even of important individuals, are rarely mentioned in our records unless there’s a specific reason to do so—as with Philip’s last child Europa. We hear about her largely due to the ghastly way she died and how Alexander may or may not have been involved.

And yes, I do think ATG intended for Hephaistion to take over the administration of his eastern empire, from Babylon as the new capital. Alexander didn’t seem to have much taste for messy administration, so he left it to the man he thought best suited to the job. And who he trusted absolutely. Hephaistion.

As for his empire falling into chaos at his death with no heir—he’d seen that movie before. It was common in Macedon due to the way inheritance was handled. Even the transfer of power from as popular a king as Alexander I to his adult and capable son Perdikkas II (following the Persian Wars) didn’t go without challenge.

To fix the problem would have involved a lot more than just producing a viable male heir. Inheritance in Macedon was at once strictly limited, but also unusually open. One had to be an Argead, but if a son of the prior king was favored, primogeniture didn’t apply. Any male Argead could aspire to the kingship, including from collateral lines. If Beth Carney is right, there seems to have been a preference for the son of the highest-status mother—perhaps why Archelaos had to eliminate a half-sibling before taking the throne. Plato called his mother a slave, but she was simply of lower status, so he wasn’t crown prince. Similarly, Alexander was favored over Arrhidaios, whose mother was also called a “dancing girl” (e.g., a prostitute/slave). She wasn’t. She was probably a daughter from Jason’s family in Thessaly. But Olympias was the daughter and sister of kings, ergo, of higher status. Yet Archelaos is a perfect example of how the status of one’s mother didn’t guarantee who’d become (and stay) king.

Alexander I produced 5 sons, most of whom, in turn, had multiple sons. Ergo, we had a wealth of Argeads down, really, to the reign of Amyntas III, Philip’s dad. Both Philip’s older brothers reigned before him. Alexander II was murdered a year into his reign, then Perdikkas ruled for some years. When he died on a battlefield in Lynkestis, he left behind a male heir—but an infant. Philip stepped in to become king because he was much better positioned to lead the country in a crisis. Infant…adult…the Macedonians chose the adult.

Philip produced only two boys who survived to adulthood, and only one was viable. Arrhidaios became king only as the last male Argead standing. ATG had eliminated his cousin, Amyntas Perdikka, within a few months of Philip’s death. Typical for accession. Amyntas was his rival, with an almost-equal claim: both their fathers had been king. Neither could have let the other live. Arrhidaios wasn’t killed because he presented no threat. All the Argeads had pursued this tact: killing their rivals. Those who weren’t a threat got to live. But over time, that takes a toll.

So from the death of Alexander I down to Alexander’s (450ish-323BCE), the once wealth of Argeads diminished severely. Was Alexander aware of this? Yes, of course. But fixing the problem would’ve challenged something fundamental about Macedonian inheritance AND required him to forego the pursuit of kleos (fame) and timē (notoriety/honor), to at least some degree. While he could get married on the march (as he did) and get his wife pregnant (as he apparently did), to produce enough children, he’d have needed to stay put a little more often. Philip also pursued multiple campaigns, but typically made it back to Pella at least once a year. His longest campaign in Thrace (two+ years) was relatively close. For Alexander, dashing back from the border of Baktria to Babylon for a quick check-in was simply an impossible distance. (A point I’ve tried to impress on some filmmakers, but I’m not sure they’re paying attention.)

In any case, ATG simply wasn’t willing to curtail his campaigning to father some kids. Yet when he did come back to roost for a bit, in early 324, he got down to business pretty quick; by his death in Babylon just a year and a half later, he had two of his three wives pregnant.

I doubt he’d have made any significant changes to inheritance. If both Roxane and Statiera had produced boys, he’d have expected them to compete to prove themselves worthy. And if Herakles was really his son (I’m dubious), the boy would’ve had to do the same. In any case, a male child by Statiera would have been favored, but he’d still have to prove himself and survive. That’s why Roxana had Statiera killed after ATG’s death. (The fact she made no attempt on Herakles adds fuel to my conviction Herakles wasn’t ATG’s son.)

2. I noticed Diodorus made the following note: ‘Each of the generals and Friends tried to meet the king's desires and made likenesses of Hephaestion in ivory and gold and other materials which men hold in high regard.’ So were the likenesses eventually burned together in the cremation, if we speculate according to custom?  

No, these were dedicatory statues. They’d have been given either to a shrine or temple, or (more likely) to Alexander himself. It’s unlikely they’d have been burned in the cremation.

[dhess0523]

The Rise and Fall of Julius Caesar

I’m sure everyone reading has dealt with some form of treachery or betrayal in their lifetime, whether from a friend, family member, or that annoying jerk who cut you off during this morning’s commute. While a tragedy of these sorts is, well, tragic, I highly doubt it resulted in the death of someone who happens to be arguably the most important and powerful person on the planet. This is exactly what happened in the case of Julius Caesar, the Emperor of Rome.

Some background information is needed regarding Caesar. In 59 BC, he was elected consul, and proposed a bill that would grant land to veteran soldiers. This bill was not passed by the Senate, so Caesar went through the public assembly, which gained him support from the plebians. However, this public support came with disdain from the Senate, and created powerful enemies of Caesar. During the Punic Wars, Caesar was a Roman general with control of a massive army. According to my wonderful history professor’s lecture, he captured all of Gaul for Rome, and then built a bridge across the English Channel to capture Britain. While this was happening, Sulla and Pompey were in control of Rome, in what was referred to as a “Reign of Terror”.  The citizens of Rome were not pleased. 

Upon Caesar’s return, he refused to give up control of his army. He laid siege on Rome for 4 years, and eventually captured the city for himself. According to Velleius,  "Caesar, victorious over all his enemies, returned to Rome, and pardoned all who had borne arms against him, an act of generosity almost beyond belief. He entertained the city with the magnificent spectacle of a gladiatorial show, a sham battle of cavalry, infantry, and even mounted elephants." With massive support from the public, Caesar appointed himself “dictator for life” and began making every decision by himself.

(accurate visual representation of how Caesar answered to the Senate)

With his newfound power, Caesar began making radical reforms that ignored the interests of the elite class. He extended Roman citizenship to everyone in the Republic, redistributed wealth to the commoners, and began massive building projects throughout the territory. Because of his disregard for the elite, many powerful figures did not like Caesar, and he had many enemies. The public began to turn on him as well, as they felt he was becoming a King. Without public support, and with the elite class hating him, Caesar’s time was running short.

 According to Plutarch, Caesar’s passion to be King made him hated. He had immense power and refused to listen to the advice of others.  With public support in decline and the hatred of the elite imminent, the Senate decided to take action. On March 15th, a group of the elite, including Caesar’s friend Brutus, assassinated Caesar, thus ending his life and time as ruler. He was rumored to have said to Brutus “you too, my son”, as Brutus was rumored to be an illegitimate son of Caesar. Cicero said of Caesar’s death,  "Caesar subjected the Roman people to oppression... Is there anyone, except Antony who did not wish for his death or who disapproved of what was done?... Some didn't know of the plot, some lacked courage, others the opportunity. None lacked the will,” indicating the general consensus on Caesar at the time, and defending the actions of the assailants. 

(if you think about it, Caesar and Danaerys are actually quite similar)

Caesar’s story is that of someone who wished to do good, but ultimately fell victim to the evil that is wealth and power. Caesar’s rule showed the Romans what they did not what, and a long period of peace followed his death. The most famous of Roman rulers, Caesar left a lasting impression on the Republic.

Sources:

Cicero, part of a letter to his friend Cornelius Nepos (50 BC)

Plutarch, Julius Caesar (c. 110 AD)

Velleius, Compendium of Roman History (c. AD 20)

Lecture Notes, History 101 McMinn.

[clairen45]

Crait and Symbolism: blood, wounds, salt, foxes, the mother and the nest.

The imagery at the end of TLJ is obviously a study in scarlet and white, something so iconic that they even used it for all the official posters for the movie.

Besides the striking visual quality of the color pattern, it does not take much imagination to figure out that these red streaks on a pristine white surface come to represent a bleeding of sorts. I read some critiques that were pointing out that this was visually representing the bleeding of the Rebellion, on the verge of utter extinction, and sending its last fighters and pilots to martyrdom. There is nothing wrong with this reading, it is after all the most obvious. The last rebels standing are indeed laying out their lives for the cause, ready to sacrifice themselves.

But when it comes to blood, you are always dealing with ambivalent meanings, for blood means pain and death but it also means birth, life, and creation. So this bleeding of the Resistance is also truly, as Luke blatantly expresses, the rebirth of the Resistance. Besides the obvious “Luke said it” (the Rebellion is reborn today), two elements emphasize rebirth: the womb imagery that is prominent in the scene AND the vulptex. It is hard to miss the womb imagery: the entrance of the cave, the necessity to go through the inside of the cave before finally emerging into the light, but it is important to note that the ones who show the way out to the handful of rebels are the foxes.

As symbols, foxes usually stand in everyone’s mind for cleverness, but it is not their only function. They are considered as messengers, and more specifically they are psychopomp figures, which means that they are supposed to lead the souls of the dead through their journey to an afterlife or another life. And in TLJ, they conveniently do just that. By following the foxes, the bleeding and desperate Rebellion finds the way out of what was supposed to be their grave onto another life, so literally the tomb becomes a womb: they are reborn. These little foxes are not just there to look pretty (which they do, they are exquisite), they are there to highlight the concept of rebirth. And it doesn’t harm to know that foxes usually embody good parenting. So before anyone starts arguing that I am reading too much into that let’s pause and wonder why they had to be foxes then. Of the million other possibilities they had they went with this particular symbol, coincidence? I think not.

Of course Rey is there at the end of the tunnel, and she actively plays a part in this rebirth by letting the rebels out. She is the midwife and she is the mother, her warm, soft, welcoming face being what the rebels first see coming out.When Finn rushes to her to hug her, he is not just a friend rushing to the friend he has not seen in a while, he is also the child rushing to his mother’s embrace and comfort.

And what does she do next? She packs everyone in the MF, a place that Han Solo called a “home” in TFA, and has visually become a home and nest to the porgs, proving again that there is sometimes more to these little weird creatures that people the screen. Rey, “the girl” from TFA, longing for a family of her own, is playing mum. And it is fitting that it happens right after Leia, the symbolic queen mother of the ST, is seen stepping aside at the end of the movie. She has given up on being a mother when she tells Luke that her son is lost forever, and she is symbolically giving up on her role as leader/mum of the Rebellion by asking the Rebels to stop looking at her for guidance and to follow Poe.

Rey as the new figurative mother is actually carefully crafted throughout the whole movie. TLJ is heavily packed with yonic symbols and symbols of female sexuality which makes Rey’s time on the island an initiation of womanhood and her function as a mother, from letting herself fall into dangerously attractive slippery caves to the very awkward milking scene.

Rey confronts elements of womanhood and female sexuality that she finds repulsive or scary, before embracing it in the end in her new function of symbolic mum. So it is not incidental that this initiation is constantly bringing her forth in contact with Kylo/Ben. Just like she is first scared and grossed out by elements of womanhood, she is first repulsed by him, trying to kill him, verbally insulting him. But she is eventually accepting him, and learning more about him, and obviously accepting her attraction to him, just as she is accepting her inner self and womanhood.

At the end of TLJ, she may be embracing her new role as symbolic mum for the Rebellion, but the last moments show you something is amiss. She seems sad and curiously lonely for someone who has successfully brought all of her fledglings back into the safety of the nest. And what do we get to see? A look she has on Finn being sweet and tender with Rose, and another look on what she preciously cradles between her hands and on her lap: her lightsaber, and not just her lightsaber, but Kylo’s legacy lightsaber, the one from his family, that broke when they were unable to stay together.

So something is missing in her life. She is playing mum to the Resistance but the longing has not been filled. There is between her hands the ghost of what she really wanted. She left one of the fledgling behind, the one that would have allowed her not just to play mum but becoming a mum.

So back to Kylo and the visuals of red and white. It is easy to also read the surface of Crait as a metaphor for his soul. Red is HIS color after all, the color of his saber, the color fitting his bouts of wrath, his moments of violence.

This is a planet with its salty crust, that seems barren, exposed, laid bare, with speeders scarring the surface like so many wounds, just like his face and body have been covered with scars and gashes. If you think about it, it actually echoes the ending of TFA: Kylo’s blood on the snow, the glow of his lightsaber in the snowstorm, the blaring light of the explosion as contrasting with the snowy forest. The imagery was just more subtle and subdued but it was present. One of the girls from Star Wars Connections also highlighted the parallel between the planet and Kylo himself, the sun and the son fused in the same imagery, Snoke exploiting both the power of the sun (Starkiller base) and the son (Kylo Ren) as massive weapons of destruction. The planet’s explosion at the end of TFA echoes Kylo’s meltdown in a way, his splitting “to the bone”. So at the end of TLJ, we have yet another planet that can stand for Kylo himself: the litteral bleeding at the end of TFA has become a symbolic bleeding of massive proportion at the end of TLJ, because he has probably been cut deeper than he was at the end of TFA. This is not a flesh wound, this is his very core. And if you look at Rey flying her way through the tunnels deep inside the cave of Crait to finally emerge in an explosion at the surface of the planet, this is pretty much her working her ways through the arteries of Kylo’s heart and making him bleed when she ran away from him. She has pierced through his heart.

This planet which is visually just a massive open wound is covered with salt, so it emphasizes that the wound is probably hurting like hell. To add to Kylo’s injury, he has to confront his uncle, which is literally rubbing more salt into the wound. @sw-daydreamer did a very nice post on this confrontation and the idea of pain and salt. The moment when Kylo first steps in in front of Luke you can see how raw his pain is, not just through his sarcasms and body language or facial expressions, but visually on the ground with a giant wound on the ground. It looks as if they are standing in a pool of blood. It represents both the state of their strained relations (bad blood between them) and the state of Kylo’s emotions (he’s a mess!). Luke’s function here is not just to figuratively rub his wound with salt but on the contrary to help with the healing process. Salt is supposed to have purifying powers, it is also used to exorcise evil. And if you look carefully later at their confrontation, the massive wound on the ground has disappeared, covered with salt again.

It does not mean this has worked for now, but I think this is a good sign that the healing process has started, that the confrontation may help Kylo eventually.

Can he be reborn then? It is not just the Rebellion being reborn. Luke’s death is a rebirth in itself. When Rey says that he cut himself from the Force before, and she can’t see him, it means that in a way, he was pretty much dead before, the ghost of himself. But when he dies, he not only revives his legend but he also becomes one with the Force. He may be dead in real life but he is reborn again, as it is attested by the last image of him through a yonic opening.

Kylo’s move at the end is to go to the cave, which was the place where his mother was, so in a way he goes back to mother, except that he is not looking for his mother, it is Rey he finds there, through their Force bond. So Rey as healer and symbolic mother and provider for the reborn Rebellion is also what he needs for his own rebirth. Except that this is a tale about becoming an adult and a man (remember he was called “a child in a mask” at the very beginning). So it means not looking for a mother but a mother for his children (again, remember the speech on the seed of the Jedi, gee, Snoke was the best, see how much info he packed in that scene!).

Salt is also interesting that way, because it is often associated with sexuality. Aphrodite, goddess of love, was born out of salty foam. And since Plutarch and Aristotles, salt has always been believed to have something to do with sexual maturity, desire, copulation, and also gestation, something that is backed up by some scientific studies. So, heavy with the sexual imagery, the romantic imagery of the heart being pierced, and the need to look for some replacement for the mother, everything points again to Kylo finding a possible rebirth through his relationship with Rey. In a reverse Anidala touch, the visual of Kylo entering the cave followed by the storm troopers is reminiscent of Anakin entering the Jedi temple in ROTS in his first steps as Lord Vader.

What grandpa does there is emptying the nest, by killing the young Padawans. Kylo, in TLJ, finds an already empty nest, because the mother has already rescued the “children”, something Padme was unable to do. Instead of storming the nest, Kylo shows through his whole attitude his deep longing to be with Rey and become part of the nest. The contrast with their faces after the deed speaks volumes. Not even after killing his own father did Kylo ever get the evil eyes (true he is not a Sith, but still...).

I think this is again a very nice touch in the way the saga unfolds, and possibly precious clues about what might come next in episode ix.

To conclude, and with special thanks to @xxmasterandmargaritaxx who quoted this excerpt from Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson to me (so grateful!)

Imagine a Carthage sown with salt, and all the sowers gone, and the seeds lain however long in the earth, till there rose finally in vegetable profusion leaves and trees of rime and brine. What flowering would there be in such a garden? Light would force each salt calyx to open in prisms, and to fruit heavily with bright globes of water–-peaches and grapes are little more than that, and where the world was salt there would be greater need of slaking. For need can blossom into all the compensations it requires. To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? And here again is a foreshadowing–-the world will be made whole. For to wish for a hand on one’s hair is all but to feel it. So whatever we may lose, the very craving gives it back to us again