#(altho this is before he's a duke...obviously

[fideidefenswhore]

[In an] undated engimatic letter from the period which has survived [...] [the King instructed Wolsey to][...] 'make good watch on the Duke of Suffolk, the Duke of Buckingham, on my lord of Northumberland, on my lord of Derby, on my lord of Wiltshire and on others which you think suspect to see what they do with this news. No more to you at this time but these few discreet words.' It is unlikley that this referred to anything of the nature of a nascent plot, but it does indicate that Henry and his chancellor were both aware of ill-feeling among the leading nobles and that the King was fully behind Wolsey in his determination to keep an eye on them. Buckingham was especially a marked man and he would eventually be destroyed by his own intemperance or Wolsey's malice or a combination of the two. But he was no faction leader. He was [not][...] adept at intrigue and Wolsey was far from being the only man he had turned into an enemy. Among others with whom he was on bad terms was his son-in-law, the Earl of Surrey.

Wilson, Derek. In the Lion’s Court : Power, Ambition, and Sudden Death in the Reign of Henry VIII.

[bethialyn]

Can we js appreciate the fact that Braun and kse are literally the two sides of a magnet that repel eachother, yet a part of them wants to be together???

Anyway, let's start w Braun, the reason Braun is like let off w all the crazy things he did to kse C119-127.

Oh no! This very alpha and way bigger guy is obviously manupilating their smaller partner or Twink idk to do everything they want and they're very possessive and obsessive and they want their partner to not have their own life and for their partners life to only surround them! Red flag!!! Author what are you doing!?

So why doesnt Braun get this treatment exactly? (Well aside from the fact kse was also manupilating him—)

Because he's not human

To top it all off he's a ghost entity

from the VERYY begginning of the story, it was showed how ruthless and cold blooded these ghost enitites are and braun was of no exception, Braun is not expected to genuinely nurture, to love, to care or to have companionship.

These toxic yaoi bls are hated bcs they are expected of that, bcs no matter ur position is, whether u had a very traumatic childhood, or ur the cold duke of the north who kills people everyday without remorse, these are STILL HUMAN. they are capable of love and affection with the right circumstances. While ghost entities are literally the exact opposite of that, no matter how much affection you show them, no matter the circumstances, they are still those ruthless killers because that's just how they are wired(altho it does depend on their ghost story), so if a ghost story is wired to kill 1 human atleast every 5 minutes, that's what will happen(remember the saekyung js incident where when kse transformed into one of the entities, he felt the same urge and the same force to kill, and was only able to fight it off bcs he still had a bit of humanity left?) and well what will ghost stories never be? They will never be human. They may be sentient, but never human(which is also why the part where Braun tries to kill kse after disrupting the show makes so much sense despite the author showing that he was somewhat distressed after seeing the kse get ripped up)

Because it's their nature.

The reason it's SOO good is bcs Braun fights off this nature, though not perfectly

Let's remember his ghost story. Anyone who disrupts OR CHANGES the flow of his show will literally get incinerated, that's what was written in the manual

Braun HATES change

It literally took him 100 takes before he would change up the way his TV show flows hello???

To be more exact—it took him Kim Soleum to change(another throwback bcs remember when KSE tried to convince Braun during the intervals to make a different approach in the shows flow)

That was the beggining of it honestly.

And ykw? Braun actually took it to mind, that maybe hey maybe his(KSE) advice isn't so bad yeah?

And what hammers the final nail down is when he chooses to be trapped in the good friend doll. Which was the major decision of their relationship together. Maybe it was out of curiosity —maybe I'm js trying to romanticize them but it is a fact that Braun chose to get out of his usual tasks, usual routine. HIS LITERAL IDENTITY AS AS A TV HOST TO BE WITH SOLEUM.

CAN YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND THE DEPTH OF THAT!?!?

A host was what Braun is wired to be, what his ghost story is, that's his literal identity(and I've already emphasized that no matter what convincing you do, you can't change a ghost story), and perhaps it was because Braun was sentient or he's some idk we don't know how full identity yet, but just try to understand that y'all.

And then they grow and form a bond, and this is where I'm gonna start mentioning c119-127 so spoilers ahead.

Brauns curiosity(or whatever deranged reason he had to chose to be with soleum) got the hold of him, now he cares. Now he feels, now—for the first time in history, he had someone he had something truly real with. And what does Braun detest again? He hates change. His thought process went from "Let's just see how this goes" to "Holy shit I'm too deep into this." And perhaps he already knew that from the very beginning but js didn't have a chance to do anything about it.yet now he does, now he's out of his restraints. Braun acknowledges the importance kse has to him but he also took tied to his identity as a TV host ghost entity. Now there was a choice, to take the bullet and change everything to stay w kse or to go back to how things usually is, alone. Braun being braun—"I'll do both"

The entire arc was basically js Braun having an identity crisis honestly.

I'm gonna headcanon Braun as a lonely bastard because why are you that attached to one person if you had other playthings? The only explaination is that he didn't. And now he didn't want to lose that, he didn't want to lose Kim Soleum.

Kse acknowledgedes this, he understands everything to a human extent, but he knew things couldn't go this way, it was wrong and unfair for him (altho he did the same to Braun I see the redness KSE👀) but ig it was also an eye opener to kse that he needed to change something Abt the way he treated Braun. Altho he ACCEPTS the reason for all of these, he CANNOT ACCEPT the outcome.

Anyway getting to c127(peak of peak)

Kse offers change, once again, he is change in human form in the life of Braun. He faces bruan eye to eye, bravely putting out how this wasn't okay, how he feels about being in the talk show, and again the author mentions how for the first time they have a real conversation. Braun doesn't only hate change, he is scared of it because it meant LOSING HIS ONLY COMPANION. HIS ONLY FRIEND. Losing Kim soleum.

But what Kim soleum offers is this, you don't have to lose me.

You can still be you, and I can still be me, and we can still be different, but that doesn't mean we have lose eachother because of that difference.

(remember the detail where Braun manupilates kse to referring to him as Mr.Host, rather than Braun? It's bcs he wants him and kse to be more alike, to be less different. Because he thought, thats the only way they would work out)

Braun acted on his own accord.

I don't have the exact line but that's basically what KSE said, that real friends accept eachothers difference.

Acceptance.

Change.

The very thing Braun hates, the very thing he is scared of, the very thing he is wired to get away from.

He is obsessed with perfection, But real things are FLAWED. and that's what makes them beautiful.

Kim soleum offers this to him.

A small nudge—not a forceful punch.

"up to you."

Kim soleum- known to face his fears, to get back up again despite his knees trembling, is now offering the same courage to Braun, who is the opposite, who doesn't want to face his fears, and tries to find every way to walk around it.

"I know you are afraid, but I will be with you all throughout"

Braun accepts it.

Braun, finally, he accepts change and imperfection. Why? WHY??? BECAUSE IT WAS FROM KIM SOLEUMS MOUTH, IT WAS FROM HIS HAND, IT WAS HIM THAT PROMISED.

can I get back to Brauns identity once again.

Getting back to KSE—

This scary, S class ghost story he is now confronting. Do y'all think he wasn't scared as shit talking to Braun? But that scary monster was also his friend. So he did it anyway, he had a chance to run, yk, to Speedrun and get away from a ghost story as much like what he usually does, yet he forced himself to face this very entity because as painful as the truth is, he loved his friend. whether romantically or platonically. With the chance of being obliterated on the spot, he accepts this risk that he always tried to avoid? For what? For what???? So that he can fix this very broken relationship of theirs, so that he can have his friend back. So that he won't lose BRAUN.

On the other hand, Braun, who's very being, WHAT HE IS MADE TO BE LIKE, —CONTRADICTS LOVE. HIS BLOOD, SOUL, MIND CONTRADICTS THE VERY CAPSULE OF LOVE. Braun, Accepts everything that contradicts he himself, why? For love, because he also loved his friend. You can't expect a being without a heart to love. So Braun, knowing that, forces himself to have a heartbeat, he forces himself to feel all these things so that he can keep Kim soleum. He forces himself to have heart so that he can LOVE.

Kim soleum, who's biggest fear was Ghosts.

Braun, who's biggest fear was change.

They were eachothers absolute opposites.

"I'll face my biggest fears for you."

Love is sacrifice.

This was their sacrifice.

follow up to this post i am wearing holes into the carpet.

this current arc on the TL FASCINATES ME because it just taps so much into what The Process is for Kim Soleum and what he loves about horror. Because yknow in that previous post I talked at length about how he loves to Figure Out And Understand The Monster.

so like. yeah. yeah of course he loves Braun's Late-Night Talk Show.

He gets to choose which guest appears, i.e. he gets to pick his favorite stories. And, as part of the crew, he gets to pick them apart and just hear them talk from a safe distance. Just the goddamn horror monster on a talk show talking about itself to the delight of the audience, and also to the delight of himself. This is The Perfect Fanservice for him.

It's like, yknow, a creator confirming all your theories about their work on a podcast. It's getting a good grade in media analysis.

And i'm also thinking about how he actually befriended Braun by appealing to Braun as a creator.

Because where Kim Soleum loves to read and understand stories, Braun loves to create stories. But Braun was trapped in that cycle of attention. He loved his Quiz Show format, but it was getting stale. The views were dropping, and that was depressing him. So he brings on a big flashy guest he doesn't even really like to keep the audience engaged.

And there's like, meta to that as well. Because the new format was just Horror and Gore up the wazoo, people getting killed left and right. There weren't rules on how to survive, you were just dead from the start. It was cheaper horror.

Cuz the knowledge that everyone dies in the end kneecaps tension just as much as knowing that everyone's gonna survive. Hell, knowing everyone dies has less tension than everyone living, because survival at least means excitement about what they might lose along the way.

So, Braun, as a down in the dumps creator, went with cheap thrills for audience engagement at the cost of his integrity. But Kim Soleum reminded him of why he loves to create shows in the first place. Braun wants thrill and laughter and showmanship. And, Braun wants his shows to be his.

The talk show format is a fascinating evolution of that, because talk shows are also about guests. But unlike the choir before it, a talk show lives and dies by its host. Instead of being superceded by his guest, Braun is collaborating with them.

In that sense, it's incredibly sweet that Braun wants to share this with Kim Soleum. Bringing back my old (2 days old) point about how our dear Roe also likes to write, writing as a form of understanding, as a form of analysis and respect, it's self-evident how Braun might consider him a kindred spirit! Wanting to share the joy of creating something fulfilling, from the heart!

where am I going with this. Right. There's still a lot of absurdity to Braun's existence, of course. What TV channel is this even running on? Who are the higher ups, where are the ratings coming from? But it's abundantly clear that all a lot of the horror monsters are sentient.

They have their own values and their own logic. And this logic is alien to humans, but it can be understood. And Soleum does a great job of that. Like bartering in an otherworldy botique to avoid paying with human lives.

And. paces in a circle. Braun did the inverse? Because, when Braun convinces Kim Soleum to go on the talk show, it is made explicitly clear that it is not coercion, or hypnosis, or brainwashing, or any sort of mental contamination. It's all arguments tailored to Kim Soleum. It's all information Braun only knows from spending so much time with and trying to understand his friend.

(...Jury is still entirely out on how much that Silver Ring is actually good for and there was at least some mind-reading involved. Doesn't change that the argumentation was sound and grounded, though.)

It's pretty wild to me, that this all started with the Smiley Stickers and the Good Friend, but when all that's gone, Braun still adores Soleum. Still calls himself friend.

Like all that just gave him a nudge in trying to Get It. By tagging along all this time, Braun's been getting the front row seat to the intricacies of human office drama, to trouble with roommates, to beefing with your superiors. Mundane drama that is either utterly alien to him or all too relatable.

I love the miscommunication of, Kim Soleum thought that the Good Friend was like, just a sliver of the original. But it was Braun, entirely, choosing to answer that call and stick around. Because he must've also been curious, about that strange human that changed him so.

I just. Love how much this flips the tables. From Kim Soleum as the one trying to understand to the one terrified to be understood so thoroughly, mortified that he's actually shared so much of himself with another person. That someone just fully gets his fears and his desires. And how it's not truly about going home, it's about getting out of here.

This relationship isn't going to end well. But it is deeply compelling.

[duketectivecomics]

Okay. I just got into Duke's comics and I am really interested in his powers. Like how do they work? Like can he just make light/shadows swarm? Because I am just imagining one of his siblings/Bruce just looking at him very hard and he's like fine, I'll make you a dramatic entrance you dramatic bastard. But I have no idea if that is supported by his current power level (I asked this to another blog and they said to ask you)

Hey anon! I'm currently still working on my own comprehensive meta on Duke's powers (which is taking awhile for both various fandom-related and irl reasons, but rest assured that i WILL be giving y’all my In-Depth Thoughts™ eventually)

For now I'll direct you to the meta tag on my blog as there's a few posts in it right now from others who have broken down/interpreted Duke's powers! There’s lots of great ideas floating there so I hope they’ll be helpful to you

But to answer ur Qs As Is without going TOO far in-depth:

1) “How” always feels like a loaded question when it comes to explaining Comics Science™ but... They Work because Duke has a metagene (which was activated rather overtly during Dark Days: The Forge/The Casting, altho one could argue that it was also being showcased during All-Star Batman, but again.... something to get Into in my meta post). The ‘science’ of the metagene in DC comics is that its a part of a character’s genetic code that allows them to manifest powers of varying degrees. To use a parallel, Metas are the DC equivilant of Marvel Mutants, but usually without as many overt social inequality metaphors (there was actually a point where people were lining up to Become metas in the 52 comic, but that’s neither here nor there lmao). The science explanation beyond “its in their DNA” is going to be a little lacking bc comics don’t care abt strict scientific explanations.

tl;dr - its comics. don’t over think the How and worry more about the What & what these powers mean for the narrative

2) Light not so much (he’s made quick flashes of light to distract enemies in Batman & the Signal iirc) but he’s definitely been shown using his shadow powers to surround people in Batman & the Outsiders (its a minor arc for him where he and Cass experiment with that ability with varying degrees of success too, and its brought up again in the Dark Nights: Death Metal ‘Robin King’ back-up, but hasn’t been used again in canon just yet, as far as I’m aware) Given that his shadow powers are still so new, and given that he’s so open as a character to experimenting with his powers, it’s not outside the realm of possibility!

3) i know its not strictly a Q, but with those two points in mind now: Duke already has given his family some Dramatic Entrances (again, see Batman & Outsiders and Robin King), so if anything by this point, it’s kinda old hat to him :D

I’d be a little careful in ur line of thinking there, though...

Granted, I don’t know what you have in mind beyond what you’ve sent here obviously (whether it be you’re gathering research for a fic or wanted to check in before making a comic or maybe even just want to justify a headcanon but), just be mindful that duke’s not solely here to prop up his family members! Duke’s a successful combatant on his own and he IS supposed to be a daytime vigilante, not a nighttime one, afterall! And mayhaps he wants to give HIMSELF a dramatic entrance eh? Ever thought abt THAT lmao

In all seriousness though, hope this helps, hopes the meta tag helps you, and cant wait to see what you do with Duke! :D

[irene-sadler]

Sir Reynard and the Red Knight

(aka 'The Tournament')

special notes:

the vibe i chose for this imaginary fair/holiday is a mashup of pieces from medieval christmas and new year's eve celebrations. ofc as I mentioned before most of those were Christianity-based, but some of them had a distintly pre-Christian Anglo-Saxon pagan flavor. now my source material here is from 1827, but the author makes sure to let us know which traditions (he thinks) are older than Christianity. the book (books actually, there's 3 of them total) itself is also kind of a fun read, it's sort of a combo of an almanac/calendar/reference guide/gossip column.

a n y w a y, so, specifically i want to mention (b/c i stole them for this story and i don't want to do that without letting ppl know these are or were real traditions that real people observed) serving a boars' head on christmas day (Essex, England, observed "from time immemorial"), the wassail bowl/toast (a new year custom very definitely from before Christianity and apparently present in various parts of Europe altho I don't have the specific expertise to explain why), and an interesting/weird/gruesome Christmas parade (Kent) which the book describes: "A party of young people procure the head of a dead horse, which is affixed to a pole about four feet in length, a string is tied to the lower jaw, a horse cloth is then attached to the whole, under which one of the party gets, and by frequently pulling the string keeps up a loud snapping noise." This is called a Hodening and whether or not ppl still do it I don't know but, uh, i hope so b/c awesome.

also theres only 1 chapter left if u stuck with it this whole time or, idk, it's 2024 and u read the whole thing at once thanks for bothering love u

----

9.

     “Yes, hello,” Gascon said, pretending not to notice Meve’s displeasure. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he added, as the Baroness and Giselle turned to look curiously down at where he stood in the shadows. The Baroness frowned and pursed her lips judiciously; Giselle considered him and glanced uncertainly at the older women.

    “Anyway,” he continued, an edge of urgency buried in his easy tone, “Do you have a minute to spare?”

    “No,” the Queen said stiffly, turning back toward the empty lists. “I’m busy; whatever it is will have to wait until later.”

    “Oh,” he replied, growing very faintly annoyed, “Because it’s about that thing you wanted last night; just thought you’d be interested t’ know I’ve done it.”

    She hesitated, ignoring the Baroness’s raised eyebrow and Giselle’s uncomfortable confusion, struggled momentarily between curiosity and base pettiness, and finally said, “Yes, fine; I have a few minutes, I suppose.”

    “Fifteen minutes,” the Baroness said, pointedly.

    “No time to waste, then,” said Gascon; he winked at Giselle, who took her cue from the Baroness and frowned disapprovingly back at him, and they hurried off.

    “So, what is it, then?” Meve asked bluntly, as they turned into the town’s streets at a rapid stroll. “I assume you’ve caught the saboteur, else you wouldn’t have bothered me.”

    “Well, I caught Gaheris; he may be the saboteur, or may not,” Gascon said, disregarding her tone. “Gaspar thinks he is, though, and he’s th’ only one who saw th’ intruder close up last night, so odds are good he’s your man.”

    “Really?” She abandoned her moodiness in favor of mild surprise, and then asked, “When did this happen?”

    “Oh, only about an hour ago. Less, even. Seemed like there was no real need for a public scene, so I just had him snatched off the street and, you know - stashed somewhere convenient,” Gascon explained, leading the way down an alley and into a butcher. The owner nodded and smiled to him as he passed through the door and headed toward the back, spotted the Queen, and instantly looked away at nothing in particular. Pug and Gaspar waited in the yard behind the shop, standing guard over a man with a bag on his head and a bandage around his left ankle. Gascon nodded at Pug and she yanked the bag away; Gaheris squinted in the light and surveyed his surroundings - two large, brightly interested pigs in a pen, his sinister pair of captors, and, finally, Meve and Gascon. He sighed.

    “Got ‘im in one piece, as you wanted,” Pug announced in her gruff voice; a dubious claim, as Gaheris had a black eye and a split lip, but Gascon nodded approvingly and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, toward the shop.

    “Wait inside for a bit,” he said; Pug and Gaspar departed, leaving their captive to his deserved fate.

    “Now, sir,” Meve said briskly to Gaheris; if she had any doubts about his culpability, she kept them firmly to herself. “Let’s not waste time with falsehoods or denials.”        

    “No,” he said, resignedly, “Doesn’t seem to be much point in trying.”

    “Quite. So, explain what it is you’ve been up to, then.”

    “Start with last night,” Gascon added, as the squire took a few too many seconds to think it over. “Hurry up.”

    “Ah, well. I was trying to get hold of a piece of equipment I knew was among Sir Odo’s things in the barn,” he said. “The girth from a saddle.”

    “Continue,” the Queen said, as he paused, clearly thinking the question answered.

    “Well, obviously I didn’t get it, since that - that thug sliced my ankle t’ the bone when I tried. Seems the girth held up, though, regardless, through today; probably because Sir Odo don’t take many hits, luckily for him.”

    “No, it’s because I found it last night and changed it out for a new one,” Gascon said, angrily. “You’re the one who cut it, are you?”

    Gaheris nodded.

    “I knew it,” the Duke muttered; Meve waved his self-congratulatory comment away, scowling.

    “When did you do it?”

    “Oh, a month ago, or more,” he said. “Just before the duel against Sir Holt.”

    “Why?”

    He blinked at the question and said, as if it was obvious, “Because Sir Holt told me to, in hopes he’d win.”

    “You did a bad job, then,” Gascon snapped; Gaheris looked mildly offended.

    “No,” he said. “No, I didn’t. The girth held, did it not? Sir Odo won - or, well he could have, if he’d wanted to.”

    He looked at his interrogators’ baffled stares, and then explained, patiently, “Look - I cut through the leather, left just enough to hold a strain for a good while, glued it so it’d look like nothing, and told Holt I’d done what he wanted. Simple. I just didn’t have the chance to get it back, after the fight; too many people hanging around who might’ve seen me. If I had done, nobody would have been the wiser.”

    Meve stared at him, torn between confusion and anger, opened her mouth, and closed it again as an echo of distant horns bounced off the buildings.

    “Damn,” she said. “I have to go. Gascon, find Sir Holt.”

    “What should I do with him?” he asked, as she turned to leave; she hesitated, considered her options, and came to a hasty decision.

    “Just keep tabs on him, don’t let him leave town, and - and we’ll sort this mess out, later.”

    “You’ll find him in the tavern, no doubt,” Gaheris said wearily to Gascon, as she quickly departed.

      She nearly ran back through the streets, but she was still late; she returned to the lists to find the Baroness had started the final round without her. However, she she was in time to see Nolda avoid an immediate defeat by the same method she had used on Sir Eres, but Reynard survived her trick, when his fellow knight hadn’t. She nodded in satisfaction at the display.

    “Your man is a quick study, as he’s always been,” said the Baroness, as if Meve had never been away. The next pass involved no deceptions from either side, nor any displays of brilliance; Nolda blocked an ordinary sort of attack on her shield, and never touched Sir Odo.

    “He’s testing the waters,” Meve said, slightly bored with her favorite’s typically cautious tactics. “How long have they been at it?”

    “You only missed one pass; the foreigner’s better at this than I expected.”

    “She’s tricky,” Giselle noted, appreciatively. “What’s the Count doing, there?”

    There was a short pause; Meve glanced downfield and answered, “Oh, he wants a different lance, I imagine.”

    The delay took a full half minute, due to some confusion on Ethan’s part; the Baroness mumbled a displeased remark about the squire’s ineptitude, and then the combat began again.

    “He wants to make up for Nolda’s left-handedness,” the Baroness explained, louder, “That’s what the long spear is for. Most people don’t learn to fight the way she does -”

    She broke off; Reynard’s change of weapon had answered, and he had dealt a strike that had nearly unseated his opponent; she managed to stay in the saddle by luck or skill and they lined up again.

    “He has her figured out; this’ll be th’ end of it,” said Meve. The Baroness nodded agreement. Giselle looked unconvinced, but, in the end, Reynard landed a direct attack to his opponent’s helm and Nolda crashed to earth at long last.

    “A devilishly difficult play,” the Baroness said, in the silence that followed. “Dangerous, too.”

    Reynard had turned to look behind himself, before his horse had even reached the end of the barricade; Nolda lay still on the ground for a few moments, and then, as her husband vaulted the fence and came running toward her, stirred and sat up. She waved an irritated hand at Bohault and Reynard, who had trotted back and dropped from his horse as soon as he was rid of his lance, but neither paid attention to her gestures or her repeated insistence that she was perfectly fine. The crowd’s general din returned, drowning out their conversation; Meve breathed a relieved sigh and reluctantly turned her thoughts back to Gaheris and Sir Holt, and then - she frowned slightly - Gascon’s mysterious absence during the day.

    “Pity you can’t make her a knight,” Giselle said, of Nolda, interrupting her consideration; Meve’s frown grew thoughtful.

    “A knight,” she repeated to herself, under her breath, watching the muddle on the field break up - Reynard back to his horse, Bohault and Nolda to hers - a vague connection, or suspicion, growing in the back of her mind. She turned abruptly to the Baroness, interrupted an ongoing reminisce on the handful of times she’d seen another knight employ a tactic similar to Reynard’s winning strike, and said, “Listen, Hilde - the black knight; do you know who he is?”

    The Baroness hesitated, slightly confused, and replied, choosing her words carefully, “I believe so, but - wasn’t that what you and the Duke spoke about?”

    “No,” the Queen said, disgruntled. “No, it wasn’t.”      

    “Ah,” she said, looking away toward the approaching victors, “Well, perhaps you should. Count Odo, congratulations on another victory; well fought, Nolda. My lord, you’ve won quite a fine horse, I believe, and you, madam, a sword. They’ll be bringing them along shortly.”

      Any personal urgency she felt to finally sort out her ongoing affairs was wasted; the prizes took very little time to hand out, but a number of unrelated problems were brought to her individual attention as soon as the victors rode away. She sent Giselle back to her tavern with genuine gratitude for her service, dealt out various solutions, and then at last she and the Baroness set off toward the castle. The streets of the city were packed, twilight was setting in, and there was no way to hurry their progress no matter how their guard tried. A wagon that had lost a wheel blocked the way, first, and then a succession of other disruptions: a traveling comedic play about a sorcerer and some maidens, some cows wandering loose in the street, a troupe of drunken minstrels playing festive tunes, a strange procession led by a solemn youth holding a freshly cut horse’s head mounted on a pole as a banner, a group of offended clerics in its wake, handcarts selling buns and ale, and, finally, on the bridge over the castle moat, an armored knight still on his charger, who would not be shifted by man or beast until Meve stepped out of the torchlit crowd and threatened to remove him herself.

    Then there was yet another feast, this time held in the hall and attended by more of the usual crowd - but, of course, with the horde of knights and sundry that had participated in the jousts, somewhat more of them than normal. There were the typical, expected customs - a boar’s head served, bowls of spiced ale passed around, a number of favors and pardons bestowed, gifts received (and given; Count Odo, for one, courteously gave the warhorse he’d won earlier in the day to Nolda, who accepted it in a fiercely embarrassed but otherwise gracious fashion) - and various other ancient rituals observed.

    “I would’ve asked if you thought giving her the horse was a good idea,” Reynard said privately to the Queen, during the Mayor’s inevitable remarks, “But I didn’t catch you in time. If I’m honest it’s less a gift and more a bribe, of a sort; Ethan’s left-handed, same as her, and I thought it might make it easier to convince her to teach him.”

    “There were some delays getting back,” she replied, also in an undertone, her eyes resolutely fixed on the speaker as he recited a hopeful list of future developments for the upcoming year. “This whole afternoon’s been nothing but delays, in fact.”

    “I’ll tell you about it later,” she added, quickly, as the speech ended, aimed a quick but pointed glance at the distant Gascon, who immediately slipped out a side door, and then dismissed the court in the exact words she’d recited for ten years, and, before her, her late husband, and his father, and their distant grandfathers, for all of remembered history.

      Finally getting rid of her guests took much longer than the traditional close to the winter solstice did. As a result, it was past midnight before she made the solitary climb up the stairs to her office, looking forward to finally having a quiet minute to think. However, Reynard and Gascon - and Gaheris - were within, despite the late hour; the squire stopped in the middle of a sentence and all three men automatically turned her way when she stepped through the door. She waved an impatient hand at him to continue and leaned against her own desk, hiding her weariness behind a cold stare. Gaheris returned to repeating his confession; Reynard listened in silence, his expression drifting subtly between offense and genuine confusion. At the end, he frowned and asked, “You - pretended to sabotage my equipment? Why? Why not do it properly, I mean?”

    The squire shrugged.

    “It’s - listen; before I go on, you should know Holt’s an ass, and a stubborn one at that. Yes, I see you’ve all noticed. Well, I couldn’t dissuade him when th’ idea came into his fool head, but I’d no wish t’ see him win a fight by such a trick, against such an obviously superior opponent. It’s not right, and, also, would be easily seen through. What I did seemed the simplest solution.”

    “You could have refused,” Reynard pointed out; Gaheris smiled pityingly at him and shook his head. His response drew an exasperated comment from Meve.

    “You could have done nothing at all, and told him otherwise.”

    He frowned, again mildly offended.

    “I’m no liar,” he said. “If I can find any other solution, I mean. They say a half-truth’s better than a lie, don’t they?”

     Reynard blinked, considered, and then shook his head. Gascon shrugged his shoulders, grudgingly.

    “You’re clearly a capable man,” Meve said. “Why do you serve someone you know isn’t?”

    Gaheris shook his head again, helplessly.

    “Holt’s always been like this,” he explained, “Ever since he was a boy. He’s a decent fighter, but he’s too competitive for his own good, and he’s still not learned t’ pick his battles. However, he is my little brother - well, half-brother; my mother married Sir Ulrich after my father died. He was a stonemason,” he explained, seeing the Queen raise a questioning eyebrow, a gleam of challenge in his dark eyes. “His name was Gors.”

    When she failed to react to his admission, he continued:

    “Anyway, she wanted me t’ look after Holt, best I can. He isn’t a bad person, really, he just -”

    He shrugged.

    “He can’t help how he is, when he’s in a mood, and when he isn’t he’s not the worst of men, or the worst of nobles, for that matter. He’s never struck a knight who’s yielded, for one, and he’s not one to steal or run villainous among th’ yeomen. And, he’s all the family I got left,” he finally finished. Meve nodded and said nothing for a long moment; she noticed that he couldn’t have been any older than herself, but he briefly appeared gray and worn down. She was, to her mild irritation, somewhat sympathetic to his troubles. Gascon glanced from her icy frown to Gaheris’s tired stare, curiously. Reynard watched her carefully.

    “Keep him under guard,” she said to Gascon. “I’m not sure what to do with him or his brother, just yet. Wait - leave him on the landing; the guards there will look after him for the moment. I’ve another matter to discuss, before you go.”

      “He’s the black knight,” she said to Reynard, as Gascon stepped back in without his captive. “Did you know?”

    “No, of course not,” the Count said, frowning slightly. “Although, in truth, th’ idea has crossed my mind, but I found it - unlikely.”

    Gascon hesitated, then shrugged, grinned broadly, and said, “You caught me at last, m’lady; how’d you figure it?”

    “The Baroness it was that discovered you, not me,” Meve said, crossing her arms stubbornly; she attempted to appear angry, but in the end managed only mild, slightly amused, annoyance. “Also, she appears to have found me out, as well, incidentally. In fact, there seems to be very little she doesn’t know.”

    “She’s uncommonly sharp, no doubt about it,” Gascon agreed, readily.

    “So,” she continued, “Is there anything at all to be gained by asking you what you were doing, today?”

    “Won’t tell you unless you first promise not t’ bite my head off,” he said promptly.

    “Yes, very well, as it’s the solstice, but don’t expect any more favors from me before the summer, at earliest. I mean it, Gascon.”

    Reynard sat down, shaking his head at them; Gascon nodded and said, “Fair’s fair. Well, then, it’s a short tale: I won that fight against Sir Holt, then I saw Gaheris come limping ‘round to scrape him up off the turf, and it all came together clear as mud, so I decided it was time t’ stop playing at knights for the day and do some real work.”

    “You could have appeared in the joust as yourself,” Reynard remarked, almost idly, “And not as -”

    “As me,” Meve interrupted, a hint of her previous ire returning.

    “Yes, well - the black knight’s more interesting than I am,” he explained, with a broad shrug. “People have heard of his prowess, or what have you; the dangerous reputation’s an advantage, of sorts.”

    “Yes, we’ve heard, in fact,” Meve said, coldly. “Slew a werewolf, did you?”

    “Sure did,” Gascon replied. “Or, I helped, anyhow. There was a witcher involved. Like Gaheris said: half a truth’s better than a lie, so I let the former take precedence.”

    “That’s not the saying, as you know perfectly well. It’s worse,” Reynard said, rolling his eyes. “Half a truth is worse than a lie.”

    Gascon shrugged at him, grinning slightly. Meve interrupted their tangent, impatiently.

    “And you killed a dragon, they say?”

    “Not I,” the Duke said, quickly, eyeing the Queen’s scowl. “Th’ only dragonslayer here is yourself - although, I did kill a pretty big snake in a roadside inn. The landlady was most impressed. So was some minstrel who happened t’ be around, it appears; he has, uh, embellished th’ incident, somewhat.”

    “Yes, that much is obvious,” Reynard noted, “But how’d he know it was the black knight who did the deed and not merely one Gascon Brossard?”

    At last, Gascon turned uncomfortably self-conscious and clammed up; Meve watched him squirm for a long moment and decided, after a glance at the amused gleam in Reynard’s eye, to not to press the issue further.

    “And you gave poor Sir Orlac a dunking,” she remarked, finally; Gascon looked relieved and seized on the change in subject.

    “Yes, that story’s true,” he admitted. “He’s not a bad fighter, at all, thought he don’t seem to enjoy it much. It took some convincing t’ even get him to go against me, actually, but it was worth the time, in th’ end, to get th’ extra practice.”

    “You have improved, somewhat,” Reynard observed, casually. He shot a quick look at Meve; she spotted it and broke off her intended response, frowning. Gascon either missed or ignored their exchange and said, brightly, “Why thank you, sir.”

    “Although,” the knight continued, “It remains to be seen if you can beat me just yet; Meve, of course, has already unhorsed you once, so no there’s burning question to be answered on that account.”

    “By a trick,” Gascon said, and then, as Reynard shrugged unconcernedly, added, “Look, I only really wanted t’ fight Sir Holt and beat him, again, to prove I could, like. I had no notion of much else.”

    “Yes, very likely,” Meve muttered, rolling her eyes; Reynard continued, despite her:

    “Not afraid to lose, are you?”

    “Of course not; it happens all the time,” Gascon said, mildly indignant.

    “Well, then, tomorrow, if you’ve no other plans, let’s see how good you’ve really become, shall we? Without your intimidating disguise, I mean.”

    “Well, all right,” the Duke said, doubtfully, clearly wary about what exactly he was agreeing to. “I suppose I’m not busy, but - “

    “Good. I’ll see you first thing in the morning, then,” Reynard said, a suggestion of finality in his voice; Gascon still looked uncertain, but nodded and then made a tactical retreat to “see to those other matters.”

    “What the devil are you at, Reynard?” Meve asked, the instant he was gone. He stood up, strode across the room with a self-satisfied smile, and wrapped his arms around her.

    “You’ve had a long day,” he said, “Let me worry about it.”

    “Ugh. Fine, then; do what you want,” she said, ingraciously, leaned her forehead against his chest, and continued with a muffled sigh, “What do you think I should do with Holt? I can’t very well banish him for trying to cheat in a duel, much as I’d like to - he is the sole legal heir to Sir Ulrich, who has been a relatively loyal supporter of the crown - nor can I demote him, since he isn’t one of my own knights.”

    “Just ban him from your tournaments, and the rest of the realm will follow,” he said, as if it was obvious, “It’s the worst thing that could happen to a young knight.”

    “You’d know better than I,” she remarked, unfolded her arms, slid them around his waist, and added, “What about Gaheris?”

    “I don’t know,” Reynard said, “He’s not so easy to deal with.”

    “The trouble is,” Meve said, darkly, “- the trouble is that, in his circumstances, he’s done nothing worse than you or I have in the past, which makes me feel something of a hypocrite if I consider having him arrested for treason - as I certainly could, given your indispensable position and high rank.”

    “Yes, a - a similar thought crossed my own mind, to be honest.”

    “Well, it’s true,” she said, raising her head and frowning up at him. “Isn’t it? Reginald -”

    “He wasn’t quite so bad as Holt.”

    “Because he was older, and the King, and no other reason. Well, and he had you around to clean up after his worst decisions. And, his sons - my sons - are the same, or worse, than Sir Holt. Or were, I mean. Anseis certainly is, in any case.”

    “Perhaps,” Reynard said, thoughtfully, “There’s no need to do anything to Gaheris, at all.”

    “As you’re th’ one he wronged, in th’ end I think what happens to him should really be your decision,” Meve said, shrugging.

    “Well, then, speaking from experience, the man’s trials in keeping control of his brother are worse than anything you might think up.”

    “Yes, I know what you mean. I’ve no wish to see him hang or rot in prison, but banishment would be no curse to him, and we’d have to contend with Holt still, regardless, but without a convenient manager. What a waste; were he noble-born, I’d have some use for a man of his talents, and I could more easily secure his future loyalty. A shame, to have Holt be th’ one who inherits old Ulrich’s lands and titles, and Gaheris remain a squire still.”

    “I agree,” Reynard said. “However, that problem only you can solve.”

    She looked into his eyes, thoughtfully, and nodded.