#Bells of abhorsen

[awoodenpen]

This is wonderfully niche and we need more necromancers on this platform.

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Text: Our village worships the Bells. There are ten of them, each with a name, each paired with a saint and a philosopher. I will never admit I am only pretending to hear them.

[kbrechtel]

fuck it, we bell

(Bright, an old DnD character. I miss him.)

[displayheartcode]

not to be that person, but the water is fine by chloe ament is such a great song to listen to when you’re rereading the old kingdom books

[gretchensinister]

I want Abhorsen representation on those posts that have the supernatural car and the Mystery Machine and the Ghostbusters car parked all together some random place

[syoddeye]

useless

Part one of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. Part one uses two:

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

~2k words, Price x f!Reader. Some liberties were taken with canon, obvs. Please enjoy!

You meet John Price when you're fifteen years old. 

Being the new kid is never easy, but you have some practice. This is the fifth time your family has moved since you were born. Such is life when your mother's an ambassador. However, it is your first time attending an actual school, and it's miserable. It doesn't matter who your mother is when your peers are the children of millionaires, celebrities, and executives. Compared to them, you're a nobody, just easy pickings.

But compared to John, you might as well be a princess. 

The son of your mother's assistant, you see John almost every day. You do not attend the same school, of course. Despite the awfulness of its students, your school has standards, after all, but every day after the last bell, you and your security detail fetch John to rendezvous at your family's sprawling home. Since both sets of your parents work long and odd hours, you spend a great deal of time together. Usually, you study, eat dinner, maybe read or watch television, but you do not necessarily talk. He's as surly as an old man, unpleasant on good days and unbearable on bad ones.

You don't look at John when he slides into the car anymore. You're enthralled in Sabriel, too busy to acknowledge him, that is until you feel his eyes on you. 

"What?"

"Didn't say anything."

"You're staring," You huff, lowering the book, only to almost drop it. "What happened to your face?!"

A purpling, inky black bruise covers John's swollen left eye. It's nasty, but he looks bored by the question.

"Scrapped. Some idiot ran his mouth."

"So you hit him? Then he hit you?"

"That's generally how it works," He says dismissively, crossing his arms and leaning into the seat to stare out the window.

You roll your eyes and return to the Abhorsen. "Your mom's gonna kill you."

He doesn't have a comeback for that. 

Predictably, his mom loses it when she arrives to pick him up. Throws a fit, her anger evenly split between John and his school. You watch from the top of the stairs as your mother consoles her friend and offers advice before they leave. John scowls, the expression deepening when he catches you listening in. You give a shit-eating grin before retreating to your room. Serves him right for fighting. Boys.

Of course, though, in a rotten turn of events, his mother leverages her position, and John enrolls in your school. Due to your relationship, you're naturally coupled together both in and outside of the classroom. It isn't for lack of trying on your peers' parts. You can grudgingly admit John's a good-looking boy. He has all the makings of a popular kid. Athletic, intelligent, and withdrawn, just enough to make people wonder in a good way. He's regularly asked out, the invitations often extended in your company. You don't miss how other girls look at him or glare at you.

Jokes on them, he's easily the most unpleasant person you've ever had the displeasure to know.

"What are you putting down on the careers interest form?" You ask one afternoon, sprawled on the couch while John sits with his back to it, reading.

"SAS. Enlisting next year."

"Military? How noble." You muse. "Your dad's not–"

"No," His head turns a fraction. "But my grandfather served. North Africa."

It's the first you've heard of it. John doesn't talk much about his family, nor do you make a habit of asking. You don't pay close attention to the adults' conversations either. "Well, you're pretty strong and clever, I guess," you temper the compliments, uneasy about doling them out to him. So you'll fair well, I bet."

He doesn't respond for a minute before a quiet "Thank you," ekes out. 

For whatever reason, your face heats. How embarrassing. You tap your pen against your blank form, grateful he faces away. Yet as a silence follows and stretches, irritation sidles alongside discomfiture. Honestly, this is what you'd like to show the girls at school. Prove that John's actually quite annoying. 

"Now's about the time another person would ask what I'm putting down."

John doesn't look up from his book. "I know what you're going to write."

You bristle. "Oh, do you? Enlighten me."

"Artist. Writer. Actress. Something useless."

In one fluid movement, you sit up and strike him across the crown with your notebook. "You're such an asshole!" You quickly create distance between his stupid, stunned face and yourself, stomping all the way to the stairs. Halfway up the steps, you crouch, pressing your face between the balusters. "You're not going to amount to anything!"

You don't speak to him after that—not entirely, of course. Your families are too intertwined to avoid him completely, but the incident strains your already tenuous relationship. It's awkward and tense, though neither of your families notices the shift. You sit in silence at joint dinners. You leave him alone in the den after school. You latch on to other singletons in class, avoiding him in the halls.

Months pass, and as John declared, he enlists the moment the school term ends. Freshly sixteen, and scheduled to ship out to basic. 

The morning he leaves, your mother drags you to his house. You stand speechless on the walk outside when he marches out with his rucksack. His head's shaved. He grew an inch and filled out some in the last few weeks when you weren't paying attention. Still a boy, but clearly on his way to becoming a man.

His mother all but shoves him at you to say goodbye. He stares down at you now, the twit. 

"Good luck." It's the nicest thing you can manage.

"Break a leg," He responds, hauling his bag over his shoulder. "Don't be useless."

You're too busy noticing how his eyes are the same color as the sky to feel even a twinge of irritation.

When he files into the waiting taxi, his mother bursts out into sobs. You watch the car until it disappears down the next street, trying to understand why your chest is so tight.

It’s a decade before you see him again.

~~

"I told the Prices you'd pop by."

You nearly fumble your card, phone cradled between your shoulder and ear, and clumsily tap it against the scanner. Mouthing an apology to the disinterested cashier, you take your bag and find your words.

"Why would you do that?" You ask, unable to completely mask your disdain. "I told you I have plans for New Years." 

Your mother tsks. "Surely you can pencil in some of our oldest friends for an hour tomorrow."

The automatic doors open, and the wintry air envelops you instantly. The plastic bag taut in the crook of your arm, you flip the collar of your coat and start the return trek to your flatshare. "I haven't seen them since graduation, since we moved back to Virginia."

"And you moved back to London, what, eight months ago?" Her end muffles a moment while she says something to her aide. Her voice is sterner when she speaks again. "They've been asking about your job, how acting's going…" Her voice trails, leaving the works or not going unspoken.

You swallow, tucking your chin into your scarf to consider the remainder of the conversation. "Fine. I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon. But I'm not staying late. I have plans." You don't. You did have an invite to a party a week ago, but that was before Jeff decided Jane from work was 'more his speed'. More 'conventional'. Though you'd seen the breakup coming for weeks and the relationship only a measly six months old, it still stung. Since coming back to London, you've had more than enough rejection.

Dozens of auditions. Dozens more interviews. Zip, zilch, zero. No callbacks, no non-speaking roles. And while you are the favorite stage manager for several small local theaters and Yes Woman, you weren't any closer to the stage. Something your mother loves to remind you of. Between her rapid ascent up the career ladder and your decision to study theater, an uncrossable gulf cropped up between you. It grew with each passing day. Moreso, when you reject every offer of financial support or connection. Her support means control. Ownership. You won't have it.

The conversation drifts to other topics—Dad, mostly. He's still putting around after her, content in his retirement. They'll spend New Year's at the White House, of course. You're pushing through the door to your place when she drops the bomb.

"John'll be there, too."

This time, you drop your keys.

~~

There is no excuse you can make to back out now. You wait on the top step of the Price's home. It's smaller than you remember. You hear people inside, music, and laughter. You hesitate. Given what you told your mother, they probably expected you far earlier than nine, but you barely mustered the courage to leave your room. You practically blacked out on the tube, leaving the station in a daze with your cheap bubbles. Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door. No time for stage fright.

The foyer is a time capsule, aside from the dozens of coats hanging on hooks and a coat rack. Framed photos of the Prices throughout the years line the short corridor leading further into the home. John's center stage for most of them. You hang your coat and slowly edge down memory lane, pausing when you see your own face looking back at you. Aged fifteen, the first day of school. You and John in different uniforms, sulking for different reasons. It was the last time you were the same height.

There are a lot of photographs of you in the hallway gallery. Ones you didn't know existed. You get stuck on a still of you and John from behind. It's from the London Zoo, from some ridiculous event your mother's work mandated you attend. The photo is simple, accidentally composed almost professionally. You and John lean against the rail overlooking the lion exhibit. You excitedly point at the pair lazing about in the shade, and John…John's focus is on you.

The sound of your name rips you away from the moment, and Mrs. Price beckons from the doorway to the living area.

The reunion between yourself and Prices is sweeter than you thought it would be. It's odd to see them older. As jarring as it is when you see your own parents, as sparingly as those visits are. Wrinkles, spots, graying hairs…But unlike your parents, none of the familiar warmth is missing from the Prices. They fuss, complimenting your secondhand dress and gushing over the bottom shelf champagne. They awkwardly introduce you to the closest guests, some claiming to have met you as a teenager. But you feel Mrs. Price's hand on your back, gently ushering and ushering, until you arrive at the threshold of the kitchen.

He's taller, tanner, and a hell of a lot broader than you remember him.

"John? Look who's here!"

You step into the kitchen with a gentle nudge from Mrs. Price, and the figure from many memories and more than a handful of confusing and mortifying dreams turns to face you.

Your name slips from his mouth in an arrogant purr, and the little tug of his lip into a smirk instantly pokes at your patience. He's literally only said your name, and already he's resurrected the same shade of vexation you felt ten years ago.

You're going to need something stronger than champagne.

[nirelaz]

Inktober Day 21: Chains

Sabriel lay on the bricks and smiled up at the cat, blinking back tears. The cat twitched and turned its head ever so slightly to look at her, revealing bright, green eyes. "Hello, puss," croaked Sabriel, coughing as she staggered once more to her feet and walked forward, groaning and creaking with every step. She reached down to pat the cat, and froze--for as the cat thrust its head up, she saw the collar around its neck and the tiny bell that hung there. The collar was only red leather, but the Charter-spell on it was the strongest, most enduring, binding that Sabriel had ever seen or felt--and the bell was a miniature Saraneth. The cat was no cat, but a Free Magic creature of ancient power. "Abhorsen," mewed the cat, its little pink tongue darting. "About time you got here." Sabriel stared at it for a moment, gave a little sort of moan and fell forward in a faint of exhaustion and dismay. -Sabriel, by Garth Nix

We're not at the 21st day prompt yet but I got inspiration out of order!

[tanoraqui]

Old Kingdom au!Fëanor wants to he Abhorsen like his father before him so bad that it makes him look stupid. He wants to be Abhorsen like his father before him so bad that he makes an entirely new set of Charter-infused necromantic bells just to prove that he can wield such powerful, important, approximately sacred tools. He manages this because he is, of course, a Wallmaker, not an Abhorsen. They do become the Abhorsen’s main set henceforth, after the originals are destroyed when Fingolfin tries to 1v1 Orannis.

Hm, actually, the relationship between divinities and people is all but inverted between these two media. I need to think about this some more.

[haroldjaffe]

Meanwhile...

Gideon: Get comfy, this could take a while.

Touchstone:

Gideon:

Touchstone:

Gideon:

Touchstone: ...wanna spar?

Gideon: DO I!

[Image description: black-and-white drawing of Harrowhark Nonagesimus from Tamsyn Muir’s Locked Tomb series and Sabriel from Garth Nix’s Old Kingdom/Abhorsen series. Harrow is holding up Sabriel’s bandolier of bells, studying them intently. Sabriel, mildly bemused, stands at her side with arms crossed. Harrow: “FASCINATING!! So each bell contains a different necromantic theorem that manifests only when it’s rung?” Sabriel: “I... suppose?”]

[capriccio-ffxiv]

I am obsessed with how your WoLs voidsent avatar is 7 sisters who ate each other. What an interesting detail :D

Yes! There's more actually; they were all gifted singers, and even went by the nicknames Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, and Ti. During the Contramemoria, they slowly turned into Sirens, and used their voices to lure others to their doom; after the Flood of Darkness, that was how they continued to survive and grow strong.

During the Allagan Empire, Amon captured them and turned them into something he called the Voidsent Pipe-Organ, which I based on the myth of the Cat Organ (CONTENT WARNING: ANIMAL CRUELTY; thankfully hypothetical).

They remained trapped there for millennia after the Crystal Tower sank. At that time, they were still separate, because the ambient aether of the Source was enough to sustain them.

Turns out in the Black Rose timeline, the Sisters had *still* been in the Tower when Garlond Ironworks began their work, and remained there when it was transported to the First; they'd been mostly ignored because they were a) still trapped in the damn pipe organ and b) not very dangerous anyway. Unfortunately, the Light aether of the First was painful for them and threatened to be overwhelming, so they began to devour each other to protect themselves, renaming themselves Astarael.

When Ryuu was trapped on the First at the same time as Thancred (she got Isekai'd; she's co-WoLs with Kian, who was the one that the Exarch was trying to reach), she sought the power of Darkness in order to protect herself. She found Astarael and made a pact with her. When she returned to the Source, the original Astarael came with her, and her equivalents on the Source chose to merge with her to get out of the tower.

I named Astarael after the seventh bell/Bright Shiner from the Abhorsen series by Garth Nix. In game, I use the wind-up Succubus to represent her; I'd rather use a Siren but there isn't a Siren mini :(

[fictional-character-fight-poll]

Legolas Greenleaf vs. Lirael Abhorsen

Propaganda under the cut:

Legolas Greenleaf:

He's an elf, the original elf really. He's super cool and seems almost perfect to mortals but he's kinda really weird by elf standards, and he's funny, he worked his way through a good few millennia of bad blood and befriended (and/or fell in love with, depending on your point of view) a dwarf. He ran for three days straight in an effort to save some hobbits, he learned to deal with mortal grief. He grew and learned and fought and did everything to save middle earth, even when he was overcome with sea longing, he fought and stayed until at last everyone in the fellowship save Gimli had died, and then he brought Gimli with him across the sea to the undying lands where no dwarf have ever been permitted to go before. He loved middle earth and its forests and plains and trees with his whole heart and would not condem them to darkness, even though he had the choice and chance to leave at any moment.

Lirael Abhorsen:

She knows a lot of things because she grew up in a magic library!! She has a lot of experience in fighting monsters bc the library is full of barely constrained magic that can be very dangerous and she spent her life protecting other librarians from it!! Shes a necromancer and can walk into the Death Dimension! She has magic bells to command the dead and the living and a mirror she can use to look in the past and find out valuable info to like blackmail her opponent or something! Her best friend is an extremely powerful free magic entity that might come to help her if it came to it

Reasons as to why one or the other would win are encouraged in the notes. Send in additional propaganda and I'll add it to the post!

[raggedlyshorn]

just doodling

[I.D. a page full of ink doodles of the character Lirael from the old kingdom series. She has long dark hair, wears armor and has her abhorsen bells. End I.D.]

[shadowkupkake]

The Abhorsen family tree(as close as I can make it) SPOILERS BELOW, this is a long one

As disjointed as it is, The Abhorsens are highlighted in green, with their known place in the timeline. There are so many i couldn't connect, and only some are named. Blue are members of the Clayr Bloodline present in the tree, and orange are members of the Royal Bloodline. Un-highlighted means they are either related by marriage/partnership or did not obtain the Abhorsen title. This is a link to the wiki where i was able to piece together some of them.https://oldkingdomwiki.fandom.com/wiki/Abhorsen , There are some i don't mention that have a concrete placement.

The clearest concrete Abhorsen however (Other than their namesake) is Kalliel, who is number 12, while 13 is her unnamed grandson. Even Clariel/Chlorr is a part of the family(Her grandfather-Tyriel) at roughly 600 years before Sabriel/Lirael.

There are 16 more named, but out of order Abhorsens. I have done my best to put them in order(I just don't know their official position)

Soraniel (m)

Feriniel (f)

Madarael (f)

Kariniel (f)

Tyriel, Teriel(A-I-W, before death) and Yannael(A-I-W, before Belatiel)

Belatiel

Jaramiel

Jerizael

Alleil

Herraniel/Tizaniel (siblings, but unknown order)

Then of course, there are named ones who I dont even have a hint for:

Cassiel (Lirael wields their bells)

Yezael

Ulamiel

Bannatiel

Keramitiel

Anyway, I hope this is remotely correct and that you enjoyed

EDIT: Looking at this, it looks like Elinor and Terciel are distant cousins? Since the family tree is funky, but the wiki says Elinor is "Of the line of Tizanael", she's also descended from an Abhorsen

(G-G-Grandparent Jeremiel) herself.

EDIT 2: Added names i forgot that have rough placement

[shrikeseams]

Don't hmmmm silmarillion/abhorsen crossover at me and leave it there! You've created that idea, you have to feed it now

Okay, with the caveat that I've only read the original abhorsen trilogy--

The wind flutes and related musical elements feel like the obvious connection point. Except in Middle Earth, magical music has much wider application than just necromancy. So, wind flutes to deter Morgoth's forces-- possibly Maglor invents them, but very likely Daeron and Melian create something similar to enhance doriath's borders. Probably done roughly in parallel, realistically, with differing goals and uses.

Daeron's version works more along the lines of promoting peace, and the vibes run along the lines of Manwe's wind rushing through the treetops of Doriath, and Melian's birdsong.

Maglor's version--let's say they were made in consult with Celegorm, and invoke the voices of Noldor forces raised in song, accompanied by the ringing of Orome's horn and the baying of his hounds. Less about suppression, more about lifting the spirits of defiant elves (and later men) and striking terror into the hearts of the enemy. (If the art didn't die with the first age, they would have been useful against the witch king in the third age.)

And let's be honest, with necromancer!Sauron on the loose, it just makes sense for elves to develop abhorsen-adjacent professions and/or task forces! I'd have them use song instead of bells, though. (Oh, but there's a possibility for the bells on glorfindel's horse tack! I think they'd be viewed as a less precision option than elvish vocals, but a nice layer of extra security in situations with lots of undead about, or for people who can't pull off the really precise songs that shuffle the undead off to Mandos.)

There's def more space, of course. The founders and the charter could easily meld with the valar concept, and if you like a redeemed Sauron, he'd make a solid Mogget.

[nimuetheseawitch]

The Disreputable Dog says, "Time and Death sleep side by side," and that both are Astarael's domain, so now I'm thinking that if there was a way to prevent being swept into Death (and through the Ninth Gate), you could time travel with Astarael! Maybe like the Remembrancer skill but more. What if a Wallmaker melted down bell metal from Astarael and created something that wouldn't make a sound, or if you combined it with another bell? I'm betting no Abhorsen ever experimented with Astarael and other bells.

[princess-ibri]

I'd like to know; how do you think Don Bluth's Beauty and the Beast would have turned out? I wish everyone would have been able to watch it. Just what would have been though I am not really into this Beast's design maybe the Baboon design that Disney turned down?

Hey! Thank you for your patience I wanted to have time to give this ask a proper reply, with some pictures. Overall I think it would have done well in the way of becoming a cult classic, full of beautiful images and plenty of nightmare fuel but rather cluttered in the way that most Don Bluth films tend to be, something that definitely adds to their charm but keeps them from becoming as popular as the more streamlined Disney Renaissance movies they were competing with at the time.

In terms of plot I feel like it would have taken a lot of influence from the 1946 Jean Cocteau BatB movie, as well as some influences from the original Gabrielle-Suzanne de Villeneuve version, along with some of The Grimm Brothers and Abhorsen and Moe’s “The Singing Springing Lark/Lily and the Lion/East of the Sun West of the Moon” bits, as I will explain below.

I think the Cocteau influences would have been seen most in the primary look/atmosphere of the film, we can see a lot of his dark dreamlike Romantic influences in the clothing and set design of this poster in particular. The Beast and Belle’s clothes could have come straight out of the 1946 film.

This dark dreamlike atmosphere of that film would have worked quite well with Bluth’s style of filmography which tended towards that sort of Fever Dream Unreality in many ways. But of course we also have the abundance of side characters with their own small arcs (and animal sidekicks inexplicably wearing clothes) in the mix as well. We get most of our information about them and the themes of the film from this page:

From this we gain the main theme of the film ‘a thing must be loved before it is loveable’, and several names of our animal/fairy sidekicks. Below we can see Beauty with Nan the clairvoyant dog, with Otto the escape artist lizard on top of Nan. The bird on her finger could be Max the bird detective in a more realistic design then the one with him in the large hat, or possibly just a random bird to go with the random squirrels. Wether these characters would have been true animals with quirky traits or people transformed like the Beast I don’t know, though with Bluth’s other films to go off of I tend to believe they were likely just funky animals who would have used their skills to try and help Beauty unravel the mystery of the Beast and his cursed castle.

Try as I might I couldn’t find any depictions of the King Bats that were mentioned (fairly sure I have Queen Livia and the Wee Beasties though, we’ll get to that in a moment) so I wonder if they were later replaced with these wolves? They sound like they would have e been aligned with the villain in any case.

Here’s where we get to the ‘Singing Springing Lark/Lily and the Lion/East of the Sun West of the Moon’ influences I think would have been in the film. As we can see in the picture below we have Beauty and a very much human prince fleeing from the wolves on Pegusus back— in these versions of the BatB story the heroine is forced to go on a journey to rescue the prince from an evil princess, after his Beast initial curse is broken. She is usually aided by the Wind, riding its back to go and find him, and in the Grimm version the pair escape via Gryphon. It’s not to hard to imagine Don Bluth deciding to swap out a Gryphon for a more majestic and recognizable looking Pegasus for his lovers to escape on once they’ve been reunited.

And of course we have the villain of our story, who I’m pretty sure is meant to be this Queen Livia. I mean look at this lady, all deathly pale and decked out in villainous green, pretty sure that a crown on her head as well. In the original Villeneuve version the Prince is cursed into a Beast by a wicked fairy after he refuses to marry her, I could totally see this woman cursing people left and right. Add that to how the Prince in the sketch version below seems to be facing off against this sinister looking woman’s head and I think it’s a good guess to say that Bluth’s BatB would have had a similar premise.

I’ve also pulled out charters I’m very sure are meant to be Beauty’s father and sisters (the smaller head by the Father possibly being a sketch of their mother?) once more pointing to following the old traditional tale where Beauty is faced with opposition from her sisters as well.

We’ve also got a lot of sketches of what I’m assuming are the Wee Beasties, who are 1000% precursors to the Jitterbugs we later see in Thumbelina, along with some more butterfly like fairies, who could possibly be grouped in as a prettier type of Wee Beastie or just be fairies.

So yeah, I think it overall would have followed the tone of the Cocteau film, with some added animal and fairy sidekick shenanigans as Beauty tries to discover the secret of the Beast, eventually culminating in her discovering he’s been cursed by the evil Queen Livia who seeks to marry him. The climax would be that after Beauty has broken the Beat spell by professing her love he’s whisked away by Livia to her wolf guarded home base, and Beauty and her friends have to rescue him and defeat the evil Queen once and for all, with her and the Prince escaping via Pegasus to ride off into their happily ever after (oh and with his mask I’m thinking maybe Livia gives a masked ball or something to celebrate her wedding with the Prince and Beauty crashes it).

Per the Beasts design I dont really. Ind it so much. It is a bit close to the Disney one but honestly I still preorder a composite Beast over one based solely in one animal sorry 😅 But I did find some alternatives designs for him for you!

Some of these are straight up goblin-y I love it 😆