#I actually am going through a phase where I find the twins very fascinating so expect more content on them lmao

[transboysokka]

It’s simple. Mako is hot. Wing is hot. Iroh II is hot.

Instant ships.

[mytherapistthinksimfunny]

The Endless Thirst of Grace Michaud

It’s almost 11 pm, and in the four hours that I have been home from work, I’ve been reading articles about Adam Driver. Alone in my apartment, I snort to myself as I read The Cut’s “I Want to Be Adam Driver’s Baby”  and “21 Things I Would Like to Do With Adam Driver” which I relate to a little too well. I, too, want to “peruse real-estate listings” with Adam Driver. 

In my nearly 26 years of living, Adam Driver is this month’s Grace Michaud’s “It Boy.” Last month it was Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Next month? Who knows, but Henry Cavill is looking mighty fine in The Witcher. 

For anyone who has ever known me, this causes little concern. To everyone joining the Grace Michaud journey: welcome. You are about to experience an everyday occurrence.

New friends, or people who only interact with me via social media: I suffer from being infinitely thirsty. My thirst can never be quenched. Usually the thirst comes at a normal level, like any thirst, and starts out as a simple tickle in the throat. If offered a drink I wouldn’t say no. But I don’t actively do anything about it. I could go for a drink, but I’m not about to get up and get one. Then the thought becomes nagging, that maybe I really should get up and get a drink right now. I’ll crave water, a simple free drink that comes from the tap. Soon my thirst becomes more distinct. I’m craving an Arnold Palmer and I need that Arnold Palmer now. I drink and drink and still I’m thirsty, drinking like I’m in the desert, about to die unless I drink the world’s entire water supply right now. 

I am, of course, not talking about liquids. I’m talking about men.

An attractive male on a film or show catches my eye, and I make note. Soon I’m watching every movie they’ve ever made until I’m in a downward spiral of interviews in the trenches of YouTube and Google. 

I’ve been attracted to the male species since before I could form a concrete memory. The evidence is in a video of my dad teasing me at three about a crush I have on a boy named Ricardo. Wracking my memory, the name sounds familiar, and I’m aware I had crushes when I was in preschool.

How in the world did my tiny brain comprehend the very idea of crushes? That one could feel something more than just friendship with someone? That I, a mere three-year-old just learning how to not urinate my pants, was able to identify that? I’ve dated 30-year-old men who are nowhere near that level of emotionally intelligent. 

Who were you, Ricardo? Why was I fascinated with you? Was I attracted to you? Do three-year- olds recognize attraction? Where are you now Ricardo? Have you met your metaphorical Lucy?

So we begin, reader, towards an agonizing life of never-ending attraction to men. Now, I am absolutely not going to go into my dating life. That is just one long humiliating and questionable series of life decisions that even I don’t want to get into. Let’s just say, at 11, there was an entire diary entry of pictures from my yearbook of a kid named Kyle who once took a pinecone out of my hair. I shudder at the thought. And don’t get me started about junior year of high school.                                                                      

I mention Ricardo to show you that my thirst for men was always there, whether I knew it or not. To me, it seems, it was just a normal feeling that was a part of me. Nothing unusual. My karate teacher was a hottie and probably why I loved going to karate. I loved men so much that I wanted to be them. I dressed in boy’s clothes, even boy’s underwear, and occasionally asked my parents to call me Michael. Now, you’re probably thinking: “Wow there is a lot to unpack here.” But this was 1997 and my parents just went along with it, not really caring as long as I went to bed when they told me to. While others may think something entirely different, I just chalk this up to being that boy crazy. I didn’t start wearing dresses until I hit puberty….but I’m already getting off topic and I don’t want this to turn into an episode of Big Mouth. Let’s try and remain focused here: I’m an obsessive person.

This is my Kindle library as of March 20, 2020:

There is a home movie of my two-year-old self pointing to my Tweedy Bird hat excitedly. “I have Tweedy Bird on my hat!” I repeat over and over with a lisp, clearly very excited I had something I loved on an item of clothing. Even then, when I loved something, I was all in. 

Combine my obsessive personality with my attraction to the male species? We descend into madness, my friends. From cartoon characters, to television shows, to actors, to rock stars, to actors again. I obsess most over men I don’t personally know. Think 25 years of pictures covering walls. Merchandise. Staying up till 3 am diving into the corners of the internet for every last drop of information I could get. 

And it all started with Bugs Bunny.

Bugs Bunny was my first foray into fangirl territory. It was that episode when Bugs Bunny dressed as a Viking woman that drew me into the Bugs Bunny portal of obsession. I wasn’t attracted to Bugs Bunny in drag, necessarily; I was more fascinated by the idea of Elmer Fudd falling in love with Bugs Bunny. That Bugs was a character that could be loved romantically. I know this sounds really bizarre and heavy, but I fully believe that I was fascinated by romantic love that early in my life. 

Soon I didn’t stop talking about Bugs Bunny. I had an entire Bugs Bunny tracksuit, slippers, and a doll. There’s a picture of me in my entire ensemble while holding the doll, ecstatic. For my fourth birthday my mom made me a homemade Bugs Bunny Halloween costume. Bugs Bunny was even my imaginary friend for a bit there. I must have worn out the Space Jam VHS tape.

Note the Bugs Bunny watch. 

That’s childhood obsession for you. When I loved Pokemon all I would do was talk about it and dream about it. 

Then it was Digimon. In twenty six years, it hasn’t stopped. Up until December of 2019, it’s been one TV show after the other, examples being Avatar the Last Airbender, Total Drama Island, The Office, The Vampire Diaries, Supernatural, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Sherlock, Game of Thrones, Mr. Robot, Fleabag, Frasier, and most recently, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Harry Potter has always been a love for me, and I’ve been obsessed with two different book series: the comic books The Umbrella Academy (the show is a DISASTER compared to how good the comics are), and The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod (a book series about a vampire; as a bonus, see how many vampires you can count). A common theme for all of these things was the fact that I was attracted to a singular male character and their relationship to others.

In preparing to write this I wrote about 6 pages worth of notes, all ranging in obsession. To completely write about every single one would take a novel with each of my multiple obsessions being individual chapters. For example, during the Total Drama Island years I was constantly up till 3 am on the weekends making YouTube videos for the show. If you can find them...I’d be impressed. (But actually, please don’t.) I’ll try to provide a list and a little comment, as I split my obsessions into various categories. 

At 11, I discovered the Sprouse twins and my object of desire went from cartoon characters to actors. I was known as “the Sprouse twins” girl, specifically Cole, during sixth grade. This was the first time I covered my room and locker in posters. 

A year later, we jumped dramatically and came to my obsessive emo phase. While I listened to a lot of bands, my attention was turned mostly to Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy and Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance. (The latter I would later meet after MCR broke up when I was about 20 years old after his solo show,  and it was just as awkward as I could imagine). That’s when my room was completely covered in Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance posters. I wore a lot of black and those years were honestly my cringiest moments. Hey, we were all 13. 

I started to shift more from short, skinny, guyliner-wearing men and noticing tall, muscular, and handsome ones. I can pinpoint when I started to first feel sexually attracted to a man (at an appropriate age! I was going through puberty!) when I saw the trailer for Fantastic Four, and Chris Evans came out shirtless in a towel. Oh GOD what an ICONIC moment. Goodbye Sprouse Twins, hello six packs.

The summer going into high school, I saw The Dark Knight 3 times because of Christian Bale as Batman. He walked in wearing that tight black shirt and my expectations for men from there on out would never match up to Batman. Gaston from Beauty and the Beast seemed hotter now (you all know what scene I’m talking about), That attraction became the strangest when I remarked to my friend that Ultron was pretty hot for a robot. 

Maybe that’s why I love Kylo Ren so much. He’s the combination of two of my great loves: a buff emo. 

The high school years followed a somewhat similar pattern, but mostly actors more so than musicians. To be fair, in high school Fall Out Boy broke up and didn’t get back together till I was in college, and My Chemical Romance only released one album in my four years. So during high school and college there weren't really any “emo” guys or musicians to lust over. 

Now in 2020 I live in Brooklyn where every man and their mother is a “musician” so the whole idea turns me off. It was fun while it lasted though, and I’ll always be an emo kid at heart. I’ve seen Fall Out Boy 7 times in the last 10 years, and I paid an insane amount of money for My Chemical Romance reunion tour tickets. 

High school was a time where everyone was entering a more mature phase of their puberty journey, and for me, that was lusting after men over the age of 30. I had a hella crush on Zachary Quinto (who I saw walk past me once in the Village and I almost pooped my pants) even though I knew he was gay. I went through a Freddie Mercury phase for a bit too, I mean, come on, that chest hair.

I had a few months lusting after Colin Farrell after seeing him in Fright Night (which I recently found out was written by my favorite Buffy writer! seventeen-year-old me foreshadowing the present). In The Phantom of the Opera I sided with the Phantom the entire time, wishing that I could be seduced through opera in a hidden Parisian cave. My mom introduced me to Ryan Gosling who became my dream man. While reading Great Gatsby I had a huge crush on Seth Meyers who I would imagine Nick Carraway as. He does sort of look like Toby McGuire? He was the first of many goofy men that would lead to John Mulaney, Rob Delaney, Nathan Fielder, Ben Wyatt, and Niles Crane. Chris Pratt still fits into that category, though he’s the perfect combination of goofy and buff. When The Avengers came out my senior year of high school, I saw it 4 times in the theater. 

The British invasion didn’t happen until my senior year and defined my college years, with posters of Tom Hiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hardy, Michael Fassbender, Eddie Redmayne, and James Norton. My feet ache thinking about the times I waited in line at a movie premiere or a film set to get a glimpse of any of these gents. When I saw Benedict Cumberbatch on set in Boston my knees gave out. Domhnall Gleeson is also in that group of fine British men despite being Irish. It’s why I always have a moral dilemma whenever General Hux comes on screen in Star Wars. Twice I had a hardcore crush on Seth MacFarlane, going to the Ted 2 set living in Boston, waving to him as he got into his car. I would meet him again 3 years later when I worked on Harry, looking like a total disaster. But he said “hi” to me which sent me to cloud 9. I once waited in a lobby of a show to meet Lee Pace even though I didn’t see the show. 

All of these men at one point adorned my room, desktop background, dorm room (which was covered in posters, no wonder I rarely ever had a boy in there), and phone background. Today my phone background is the throne room scene of Rey and Kylo in The Last Jedi. Why do you think I had Tweedy Bird on my hat? I need my obsession with me at all times and I want the world to see. 

(Thank God tattoos are expensive and I was too young to get them during my hardcore obsessions. Imagine if I had a giant Total Drama Island tattoo on my back? I shudder.) 

While a lot of the attraction for these men was based on personality, looks, and accents, I also have a tendency to become enamoured with villains and dark characters. In 1999 I was in the movie theater seeing The Phantom Menace. Up until that point, there were virtually no children featured in Star Wars films, so when a young Anakin Skywalker graced the screen, my five-year-old heart would not stop beating. I loved him so much, I carried a Pepsi bottle with his image on it everywhere I went. I slept with it. My comfort blanket was a Pepsi bottle with a picture of a nine-year-old boy. 

I had the famous Phantom Menace poster with young Anakin Skywalker with the shadow of Darth Vader behind him. I distinctly remember my dad telling me in the theater, “That’s Darth Vader as a little boy.” When I saw Return of the Jedi my favorite scene was when Luke took off Vader’s mask, because you got to see Vader’s real face for the first time. That Vader actually was a human and not a monster fascinated me to the point of obsession which, as you probably have figured out, still carries over to the sequel trilogy. 

Bugs Bunny established my fanaticism, but Anakin Skywalker determined my type: men presented as villains but actually are redeemed over time. Through the years I think I’ve enjoyed getting to figure out someone. Their character is presented as one dimensional, and then even the tiniest thing that strays from that is seen as fascinating. There’s a great quote from an Adam Driver profile in the New York Times that I think encapsulates it: 

“A manner so resolute that when some emotion does manage to escape - whether through a glint in his eyes or the unpredictable undulations of his voice - that transgression can’t help but take you by surprise.” 

Now my therapist says that probably comes with my need to help and fix the real boys in my life. We both joked that our favorite character in A Haunting of Hill House was the drug-addicted little brother. 

I think it is totally unfair, because I know that I can’t personally help them... though ok, she may be a little right.

While I enjoy “complicated” from afar, it does subconsciously fulfill the need for what I can’t do in reality, which is being someone’s reason to change. Mostly through love. Turns out, in real life, it is far less romantic to be dating someone with a lot of emotional issues! Who knew! 

You decide for yourself. Here are all the fictional characters I’ve obsessed over who fit this category: 

-Kylo Ren (I mean, duh)

-Prince Zuko (the original Kylo Ren)

-The Phantom of the Opera (Thank you, Leslie Knope)

-Damon from Vampire Diaries

-Hot Priest from Fleabag (ok not a villain but he’s supposed to be a holy man and you think aw he’s never gonna...AND THEN HE DOES!) 

-Mr. Darcy (again not a villain but he was to Elizabeth at first!!!!)

-Duncan from Total Drama Island

-Draco Malfoy (that bleached blonde hair attraction still hasn’t gone away, oops)

-Spock in JJ Abrams’s last good movie Star Trek

-Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (oh if my heart could beat it would break my chest, how many times have I cried over that sweet platinum blonde baby?) 

Look, I know this is all fictional and in no way real. None of these men exist and are all a fantasy. Hey, I watch You and am extremely creeped out by Joe! I don’t root for him! I also hope I don’t stay this way forever. I really don’t want to be a Twilight mom. I’ve calmed down in my old age, ok? I don’t wait in the cold for hours at a stage door anymore, and I go on real dates now. I’ve even had a few boyfriends in my days who were nothing like the men I lusted after nor did I even compare. 

I completely agree that all these men would be horrible to date! Draco Malfoy was totally a bigot and bully. Kylo Ren killed his dad, and I have a good relationship with my dad, so I can’t really relate. And yes, Spike before he got his soul is nothing to wish for in a boyfriend, even if it was fun to watch him. Kylo Ren and Spike have killed multiple people. I’m not down to date a murderer. 

One day I’ll be able to consume something I enjoy and move on after a week. Growing up, mundane suburban life was a little more interesting when you get lost in a fantasy for a while. To be focused on something other than school, work, or even your own anxieties. If anything, I think my obsessive personality towards men in particular just pushes me to look for more and to yearn for more instead of being depressed that I don’t get to live it. I don’t just settle for the first boy to like me back. I strive to one day not to marry a celebrity, a comedian, or an anthropomorphic cartoon character, but someone who makes me feel like I’m the heroine of my own show. 

For now, I’ll just wait for the Phantom to spring me into his underground lair. 

Taken 2 minutes before I published this. 

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 2

In which Egwene is excellent, understanding is reached, and laughter is achieved

Chapter 2: The Nature of Pain

Well that’s a promising start to a chapter.

Egwene! She only had one chapter last book but what a chapter it was, and I am loving her current arc so here’s to more of that, hopefully.

She smiled to her reflection, and her twin selves nodded to one another in satisfaction.

Speaking of reflections. It does seem to carry just a bit of double-meaning here (see what I did there?) if you want it to, what with her entire battle here to…maintain and also affirm her identity, and make those around her see her for who she truly is, and to be who she needs to be.

So she’s still spending quality time in the Mistress of Novice’s study every day. But she’s barely crying anymore. (Though, unlike a certain Dragon, she’s still capable of tears. Which is…good? I suppose? For a given definition of ‘good’, anyway).

The Aiel could laugh during the most cruel of tortures. Well, she could smile the moment she stood up.

I’m reminded, here, of the time when Rand forced himself to smile through the torture he was subjected to in the lead-up to Dumai’s Wells. Both Egwene and Rand have now been subjected to torture at the hands of the White Tower, and both have smiled in response, though the similarity pretty much ends there. I don’t really have a point to this comparison, because they’re very different situations and characters and contexts, but I like how something can be so superficially similar yet so different in every meaningful way.

(I would not be at all opposed to this arc culminating in a Dumai’s Wells level scene, though. I can’t see Egwene outright fighting the other Aes Sedai, but she did have that dream of the Seanchan attacking the Tower, and there’s also the issue of Mesaana…)

Give up? You’re asking Egwene when she plans to give up? Have you…met this girl? Ever? At any time across the last eleven books?

“Proper order, Silviana?” Egwene asked. “As it has been maintained elsewhere in the Tower?”

The score stands something like Egwene 2304913 – 0 Elaida. I’ve been keeping careful track.

Speaking of Elaida, Egwene gets to go serve her dinner. And, if we’re lucky, serve her in a more colloquial sense. (Does anyone even say that anymore? No? Nevermind then).

Silviana seems worried about Egwene’s wellbeing and Egwene doesn’t quite recognise it – in that, she and Rand have another thing in common, it would seem. The disconnect between them and those around them, when it comes to understanding that people are concerned for them, and even why those people might be concerned for them. Though again, while it’s a similarity on one level, it gets very different when looked at more closely.

She considered that last comment. Perhaps it hadn’t been surprise that Silviana had shown upon hearing of Egwene’s visit to Elaida. Perhaps it had been sympathy.

I’m momentarily amused at the memory of Egwene accusing Moiraine of not even recognising human emotion.

But Egwene’s role, as she sees and embodies it now, isn’t one she would think of as deserving sympathy. She’s not trying to get the other Aes Sedai to feel sorry for her. She’s trying to get them to follow her and recognise her as Amyrlin. More than that, she’s trying to repair the near-fatal damage that has already been done to the Tower and the Aes Sedai, and also prepare them for the end of the world, and at some point that starts demanding a force of nature more than a person.

Like so much else, the same could be said of Rand, to a degree. I say that a lot, I know, but what fascinates me about the parallels between Egwene and Rand are not the parallels themselves so much as the differences beneath them, which are highlighted by the surface-level similarities. And the more I think about it, the more I think it comes down to an issue of choice. Egwene chooses, where Rand was chosen.

I mean that not so much as a narrative truth but as a matter of perception, which in a way is what makes it so fascinating. This is a fantasy  world with prophecy and a Pattern and therefore a rather complicated notion of free will (or the lack thereof) that I would probably tie my brain into logical knots trying to untangle. So I’m not looking at how much choice or agency Rand and Egwene have relative to one another, but rather how much they perceive themselves to have. (Because perception and belief are the keys, aren’t they, to living freely a predestined life? But then, I’m an atheist; what would I know?)

Rand makes choices – he chooses to continue day after day, despite everything – but he does so with the increasing knowledge or certainty that his life does not belong to him but to the Pattern, to history, to the world itself. He chooses to do what must be done because it is his task and his duty and his destiny, and so is no choice at all. He is arguably the single most powerful individual in the world, but in many things he no longer perceives himself to have agency. He must do what he must. His choice is resignation. He is the chosen one; he does not get to choose.

(To go on a slight tangent from my tangent here, this relates back to what I was thinking about last chapter. That he has lost sight or sense of why he is fighting. He is using himself and everything around him, and destroying himself in the process, because it’s what he has to do, but it feels as if his aims are becoming increasingly…hollow. And with a fading sense of purpose beyond determined resignation, his ability to choose anything in a meaningful way fades as well, so he becomes little more than a weapon of fate, wielded by prophecy. Something is going to have to change that).

Egwene, though. Egwene actively chooses her path, and the steps she takes. Sure, she’s pushed and pulled by events around her, not to mention the part where she’s literally enslaved. Often, her choices are limited, and often she has to do things she would rather not, but the point is that she does not stop seeing them as choices. It is a matter of perception, and she believes herself to have agency. She leaves the Two Rivers because she wants something more. She goes to the Tower because she wants to learn. She goes to the Aiel because she wants to learn. She is summoned to become Amyrlin, but even then, she herself decides to truly be Amyrlin rather than a puppet. She makes that choice her own, rather than resigning herself to it. And now she is striving to save the Tower because she knows it needs saving. Egwene is not a prophecied hero; she is a hero because she chooses to be.

And I love that about her. I love that, if you try to map her story to the Hero’s Journey, she manufactures her own ‘call to adventure’ and then skips right past the ‘hero is reluctant’ step. I love that even when she is pushed a certain direction, she goes on her own terms. Becoming Amyrlin, being taken captive… when she surrenders, she does so in order to control. I love that instead of fighting a path she has been set on, she steps onto her own and dares the world to defy her.

It doesn’t make her storyline or character better or worse than Rand’s – at least, not the way I read it; they’re different characters and their different arcs are each lovely and effective in their own rights – but it enhances this effect of…contrasting parallels between them. For example, the way they deal with pain. Rand endures it because he must. Egwene embraces it because it is a victory. Both are determination and willpower, but one is resignation while the other is choice. It’s a bit like listening to the same piece of music played once in a major key and once in a minor key. The same, sort of, but also not the same at all.

Anyway.

Egwene treating Katerine as a servant amuses me far more than it should.

Egwene ignored the threat. What more could they do to her?

Not a question I would recommend asking, given that the answer is usually ‘challenge accepted’.

Egwene just gives them a lecture on precisely how fucked the Tower is right now, and how they should pull their heads out of their arses and do something about it.

More eloquently, of course. And very slightly more subtly.

Of course, this is no doubt lost on Katerine, given her actual Ajah. But Silviana seems to have been listening at the door…

I still rather like Silviana. I think Egwene kind of does as well. She certainly respects her, anyway.

No Alviarin? Where is she now? What is she up to? Trying to find a new concealer to cover the invisible mark Shaidar Haran left on her?

Yes, Egwene was winning. But she was beginning to lose the satisfaction she’d once felt at that victory. Who could take joy in seeing the Aes Sedai unravelling like aged canvas? Who could feel glad that Tar Valon, the grandest of all great cities, was piled with refuse? As much as Egwene might despise Elaida, she could not exult at seeing an Amyrlin Seat lead with such incompetence.

Time for Phase Two, perhaps? Whatever that might be, in this case?

I still just love the situation she’s in, because it’s so uniquely…odd. There’s an aspect of the classic ‘leading a rebellion from within the enemy’s camp’ element to it, of course, but the twist is that the Tower itself, and the other Aes Sedai, aren’t her enemies. She’s leading a rebellion, but one that seeks not to undermine or break the Tower, but rather to strengthen it. To take advangate of the cracks in the foundation, but at the same time to heal them. To gather support to her, but without ever letting the overall whole weaken.

Easy, right?

So now she has to figure out how to behave with Elaida. Punching her in the face, unfortunately, seems like it’s not an option.

Corridors are still shifting and also paintings are becoming significantly more creepy. Maybe Shai’tan once had ambitions of becoming an interior designer, and turned to evil when no one wanted to employ him.

Oh, there’s Alviarin.

This was the woman who had pulled down Siuan, the woman who had beaten Rand

So she knows about that now, it seems. Last book she was surprised to hear that Elaida had tried to have Rand kidnapped, but I guess she’s filled in the details.

And she thinks of him as Rand, here. It’s not ‘the woman who had beaten the Dragon Reborn’ and thus caused something of a diplomatic crisis. She doesn’t think of it here in terms of Elaida mishandling the Dragon Reborn, but of Elaida beating Rand. There is still love between them, even if it is strained almost to breaking and nearly overshadowed by everything else.

Elaida needed to know Egwene’s anger, she needed to be humiliated and made ashamed! She…

Egwene stopped in front of Elaida’s gilded door. No.

She could imagine the scene easily. Elaida enraged, Egwene banished to the dark cells beneath the Tower. What good would that do? She could not confront the woman, not yet. That would only lead to momentary satisfaction followed by a debilitating failure.

But Light, she couldn’t bow to Elaida either! The Amyrlin did no such thing!

Or…no. The Amyrlin did what was required of her. Which was more important? The White Tower, or Egwene’s pride? The only way to win this battle was to let Elaida think that she was winning. No…No, the only way to win was to let Elaida think there was no battle.

This is, I think, a very important moment in – or perhaps illustration of – Egwene’s character development. And it’s excellent.

We’ve already seen Egwene’s decision to accept pain, and her refusal to accept the role Elaida (and most of the Tower’s Aes Sedai) are trying to force her into. We’ve seen her determined and we’ve seen her defiant.

But this is different. Humility, I think we can agree, is not exactly one of Egwene’s main traits. That has often served her well – after all, arrogance, pride, and ambition are often separated from determination, confidence, and resolve by little more than context – but stubbornness even in the form of calm defiance isn’t the right tool, here.

The fact that she is able to recognise that, and not back away from it, is a real mark of strength and maturity in her. It reminds me of her conversation with Moiraine all the way back in TFoH, when Egwene asked why Moiraine had started doing what Rand told her. And Moiraine replied simply that she had remembered how to control saidar. It was a major moment in Moiraine’s own behaviour and approach, and Egwene is now facing something like that herself, and truly understanding it. Sometimes surrender, or the appearance of surrender, is necessary. Sometimes pride must be set aside.

This is about something far greater than her pride, and while that may seem a simple statement, it’s no easy thing to recognise and genuinely accept. Not just for Egwene – for anyone. But she accepts it here, and shows how far she has come, and how deserving of the Amyrlin Seat she is. She is not doing this for herself, but for the Tower. She will accept pain and sacrifice pride where necessary in order to heal and unite the Tower, will give of herself whatever is required, because it is about something greater than herself.

Moiraine would be proud. I’m proud. It’s such a strong moment, even though no one around her is able to notice anything of it.

Character development is one of those things that really benefits from a fourteen-book series, if you do it right.

Silence. That would be her weapon this evening.

Excellent. Silence is such an effective tool in so many circumstances, and it’s so often underestimated.

Ah, Meidani’s here. And not apparently happy about it. Poor Meidani; she’s caught in a pretty shit situation.

In stark contrast to Egwene’s understanding of when to set aside some measure of her own pride, Elaida’s sitting on basically a throne in an elaborately decorated room, smirking. Elaida wants power for power’s sake – she knows the world is going to need saving sometime in the near future, but while she is in her way trying to work towards that, it’s important to her that she be remembered as the one who saved it. That she be known as the greatest Amyrlin ever, etc. It’s not about the Tower and the World, it’s about Elaida. And she’s not effective enough to make that kind of arrogance work.

Though Egwene had not chosen an Ajah herself, she would have taken the Green.

This is one  thing I dislike about Egwene’s characterisation, actually. There’s such a good opportunity here for her to be truly of all Ajahs and of none. Not raised in the ordinary way, never given the choice of an Ajah, and therefore being in a position to understand and appreciate and identify somewhat with all of them. Especially because, while I can see why she might lean towards the Green, she does have elements of several of the others. There’s also the fact that she has brought a great deal of change already and means to bring more, so having her sort of…outside of the normal rigid structure of Ajahs, and instead as someone who genuinely stands getween and linked to and yet apart from all of them, could be a way to emphasise that. And it would underscore her suitability for the role of Amyrlin in general, because unlike every single other Aes Sedai, she actually isn’t of any Ajah, and never has been.

I just feel like it’s a bit of a wasted opportunity, and it always strikes me as slightly odd whenever it’s mentioned.

But Egwene held her tongue. This meeting was about survival. Egwene could bear straps of pain for the good of the Tower. Could she bear Elaida’s arrogance as well?

A less painful task, perhaps, but not necessarily a less difficult one.

Egwene broke her gaze away from Elaida’s. And – feeling the shame of it vibrate through her very bones – she bowed her head.

Elaida laughed, obviously taking the gesture the right way. “Honestly, I expected you to be more trouble. It appears that Silviana does know her duty.”

It seems like a small gesture to have to make, and her shame and anger could be read as slightly hyperbolic, but…it’s really hard to stay calm and let someone you absolutely hate take the upper hand, without making any move to show them how incompetent and mistaken they are, and that they’re only winning because you’re throwing the game.

Egwene hears Meidani’s name and knows she’s one of the spies, but doesn’t know the entirety of all the ways in which Meidani’s life sucks right now. Compelled by an oath she was forced to swear to spend time with Elaida, while knowing that Elaida knows she was sent by the rebels and terrified of what might happen if any of that goes wrong. Also the implication that their ‘pillow friendship’ has probably been renewed makes it even more unpleasant, given Meidani doesn’t really want anything to do with any of this.

“Ah, that is right,” Elaida said musingly. “It will be good to know how traitors have been treated in the past. Beheading seems too easy and simple a punishment to me. Those who split our Tower, those who flaunt their defection, a very special reward will be needed for them. well, continue your search then.”

How spectacularly cruel.

Egwene, meanwhile, is proving her ability to multitask: she can seethe and serve soup at the same time. Just about.

Elaida’s still being generally awful, asking Meidani for information about the rebels and insinuating that she could strip her of the shawl and then laughing about it. And Egwene continues to show admirable restraint by not punching her.

Light! What had happened to Elaida? Egwene had met this woman before, and Elaida had struck her as stern, but not tyrannical. Power changed people. It appeared that in Elaida’s case, holding the Amyrlin Seat had taken her sternness and solemnity and replaced them with a heady sense of entitlement and cruelty.

Well, and I think Fain might have had something to do with that, but otherwise Egwene is probably correct. Elaida craves power, but she clings to it too tightly. She’s not strong enough to feel secure in her position, so she tries to forcibly show herself to be even stronger, and instead ends up brittle.

At least some of the Aes Sedai are apparently nervous about the Seanchan, but Elaida dismisses that as well.

Egwene couldn’t speak. She could barely have sputtered. How would Elaida feel about these ‘exaggerated’ rumours if the Seanchan slapped a cold a’dam around her idiot neck? Egwene could sometimes feel that band on her own skin, itching, impossible to move.

…Yeah. It’s hard enough for her to keep silent and ignore Elaida tearing the Tower apart, and being wantonly cruel towards Meidani, and dismissive of a threat Egwene has seen. But the fact that the threat is the Seanchan makes it so much worse for her to be listening to this. She has suffered firsthand what Elaida scoffs at, and it’s no wonder she still feels echoes of it, and she can’t let herself show anything. So she’s stuck in a room with someone she hates, someone she thinks could bring down the Tower and possibly the world, and now she’s also stuck in here remembering enslavement and torture and generally one of the worst times of her life.

“No […] These Seanchan are not the problem. The real danger is the complete lack of obedience shown by the Aes Sedai.”

Holding onto power so hard that it shatters in her hands like porcelain. She is not strong enough to inspire respect, so instead she tries to beat everyone around her into submission. Which always ends well…

“Fortunately, I have an idea myself. Doesn’t it strike you as strange that the Three Oaths contain no mention of obedience to the White Tower? […] Why no oath to obey the Amyrlin? If that simple promise were part of all of us, how much pain and difficulty could we have avoided? Perhaps some revision is in order.”

Um…yikes. Double yikes because Meidani is listening to this and has already been forced into a fourth Oath of obedience.

Egwene is rather horrified at this notion; she has received oaths of fealty, but the first two were given voluntarily and the others were taken from those who tried to use her as a puppet, and none were sworn on the Oath Rod. There’s some grey morality there, but this is several steps further. Elaida wants to demand them of all Aes Sedai, for the sake of maintaining her own increasingly despotic power. Which is…understandably both terrifying and infuriating.

Egwene’s rage boiled within her, steaming like the soup in her hands. This woman, this…creature! She was the cause of the problems in the White Tower, she was the one who caused division between rebels and loyalists. She had taken Rand captive and beaten him.

Again with thinking of him as Rand here, and feeling angry at the fact that he was beaten, rather than at the fact that Elaida fucked things up with the Dragon Reborn. As for the rest…yeah, pretty much. The other Aes Sedai are not her enemies, and most want the Tower to be whole again, but Elaida stands in the way of that.

Egwene felt herself shaking. In another moment, she’d burst and let Elaida hear truth. It was boiling free from her, and she could barely contain it.

No! she thought. If I do that, my battle ends. I lose my war.

So Egwene did the only thing she could think of to stop herself. She dumped the soup on the floor.

Well, that’s…one way of handling things, I suppose. It’s certainly amusing, but again it’s actually not as excessive as it immediately appears, I don’t think. Given what Egwene has endured thus far, and everything that has happened as a result of Elaida, and even what she’s had to listen to in this scene alone, and the fact that she can’t let herself do or say anything and she has to act like she’s submissive and defeated…well, it’s not suprising that her self-control would waver slightly.

It is still amusing, though.

“I’m sorry,” Egwene said. “I wish that hadn’t happened.”

Ha. Well played.

And she has her composure back, so it seems to have worked.

Meidani gets the task of helping Egwene clean up the soup, so Egwene tries to tell Meidani to send for her. Of course, that just adds a third string to Meidani, pulling her in yet another direction, but Egwene doesn’t know that.

Egwene laid a hand on her shoulder. “Elaida can be unseated, Meidani. The Tower will be reunited. I will see it happen, but we must keep courage. Send for me.”

Meidani looked up, studying Egwene. “How…how do you do it? They say you are punished three and four times a day, that you need Healing between so that they can beat you further. How can you take it?”

“I take it because I must,” Egwene said, lowering her hand.

Leading by example. But she does win Meidani over very quickly here, by showing such determination and strength.

“I can help heal what has been broken, but I will need your help.”

I’m remembering way back in the beginning, when Nynaeve still thought of Egwene as her apprentice, and mentioned how ‘Egwene has the desire to heal, the need to’. And…in a way, she wasn’t wrong. Egwene hasn’t followed the same path of healing that Nynaeve has, but here she is trying to heal what is essentially the greatest wound to the Aes Sedai as a whole.

Elaida throws Egwene out, which is probably the best way this could have ended, all things considered.

Oh, except she wants Egwene to come back another day. Deep breaths, Egwene. You can do it.

“And if you so much as spill another drop, I will have you locked away in a cell with no windows or lights for a week.”

Elaida. Please. Can we stop with the locking people in boxes thing? That’s a parallel Rand and Egwene really don’t need to share.

Egwene left the room. Had this woman ever been a true Aes Sedai, in control of her emotions?

Yet Egwene herself had lost control of her emotions. She should never have let herself get to a point where she’d been forced to drop the soup. She had underestimated how infuriating Elaida could be, but that would not happen again. She calmed herself as she walked, breathing in and out. Rage did her no good.

Just like embracing pain, she has to learn how to do this, and it’s not exactly easy at first. But she knows where she went wrong, and is already making sure she will do better next time. And I like the recognition that rage does her no good, because it reminds me of her first meeting with Silviana, where Silviana asked why she was not hysterical and Egwene responded by saying she could not see how that would help.

Egwene ate contemplatively, listening to Laras and the scullions bang pots at washing up in the other room, surprised at how calm she felt.

She is learning true Aes Sedai serenity. Not the forced and brittle mask of it that so many seem to have used as a substitute, but the real thing. The ability to acknowledge emotion but dismiss it when it does not help her. Not forcing things like pain away, but accepting them as part of her. The ability to face anything, and withstand it in a state of calm.

She had changed; something was different about her. watching Elaida, finally confronting the woman who had been her rival all of these months, forced her to look at what she was doing in a new light.

She had imagined herself undermining Elaida and seizing control of the White Tower from within. Now she realised that she didn’t need to undermine Elaida. The woman was fully capable of doing that herself.

This is all excellent. She is steadfast and stubborn and determined, but she’s also able to recognise when she needs to shift her focus slightly, or reevaluate her exact goals and strategies. Because, again, it’s about something far greater than herself, and she knows it. And this is a lovely, subtle realisation.

Her role isn’t to undermine Elaida, but to be a source of strength in contrast to Elaida’s weakness, to be a centre around which the Tower can reform and rebuild and heal, even as Elaida shakes its foundations. She isn’t seizing control, because it isn’t about control, really. It’s about being there to support something that is crumbling, to show strength and sow unity amidst division and weakness.

It’s also a strong revelation because it means essentially relinquishing any sort of personal grudge against Elaida. It means making this, once again, not about her but about the Tower itself. Letting go of her own anger in order to focus on what is truly important.

Elaida would topple eventually, with or without Egwene’s help. Egwene’s duty, as Amyrlin, wasn’t to speed that fall – but to do whatever she could to hold the Tower and its occupants together. They couldn’t afford to fracture further. Her duty was to hold back the chaos and destruction that threatened them all, to reforge the Tower.

Yes, that, exactly. And holding the Amyrlin Seat, coming into power, may be a part of that, but this is the realisation that that part is…incidental, almost. That, again, it’s not about her at all. Nor is it about Elaida, even. It’s about doing whatever she can do to hold the Tower together and heal it.

And that’s what she’s been working towards this whole time, but this is just that…slight change in focus, and a much more subtle and nuanced understanding of her true purpose here, and what needs to be done.

She has come so far, to be able to see and understand and act upon this, and it’s beautiful to watch.

Time for another trip to Silviana, which will probably be edifying for anyone but Egwene. Because really, what can they do to her? And as Meidani showed –and as the reactions of some of the other Aes Sedai have shown – at some point it just makes the others respect her more, and thus serves her own purpose. She will not be broken so easily, and the others are coming to see that strength.

[Egwene] spoke calmly about the evening, omitting the fact that she’d dropped the bowl of soup on purpose. She did, however, say that she’d dropped it after Elaida had talked of revoking and changing the Three Oaths.

Silviana looked very thoughtful at that.

“Well,” the woman said, standing up and fetching her lash, “The Amyrlin has spoken.”

“Yes, I have,” Egwene said

Ha. It’s not quite on the level of “there’s no need to call me ‘sir’, professor” but that’s what I’m immediately reminded of, and it’s pretty excellent.

Oddly, Egwene felt no desire to cry out. It hurt, of course, but she just couldn’t scream. How ridiculous the punishment was!

It’s almost like the end of a training montage, except with…pain. She started off determined to embrace the pain, even though she wasn’t completely sure how, and did a decent job of it. But it still hurt, and she still screamed, and it took effort. Now…now, it just seems ridiculous.

She’s thinking of the far greater pain of seeing the division and hostility amongst the Ajahs, of hearing Elaida speak of an oath of obedience to the Amyrlin, of Meidani’s treatment.

Each of these things was a pain inside of Egwene, a knife to the chest, piercing the heart. As the beating continued, she realised that nothing they could do to her body would ever compare to the pain of soul she felt at seeing the White Tower suffer beneath Elaida’s hand. Compared with those internal agonies, the beating was ridiculous.

And so she began to laugh.

This is lovely. She thought, in the very beginning of her odd captivity, about how the Aiel could supposedly laugh through any torture. About how she could not see how she could manage that, but she could at least try to embrace the pain. And she had to remind herself of it at first, with something of a constant mantra, and over time it got easier, little by little. Easier still when she understood that every beating was a victory, a sign that she was winning.

And now…now she has realised something even greater than that: namely, that in the face of the wounds the Tower is facing, this pain is nothing. That in the face of a far greater task for a far greater purpose, this is a minor obstacle. A triviality. And that renders the pain…irrelevant, almost.

And so she laughs, finally succeeding at truly embracing pain and laughing in the face of it, without having to force it.

Laughter in the face of pain, serenity as she contemplates her true task – and the fact that it isn’t about undermining Elaida. These are major steps, and they show such incredible growth and understanding. Her way forward won’t be easy, but she understands what she has to do, and she’s strong enough to do it, and with that comes this sense of…lightness, almost.

The lashing stopped. Egwene turned. Surely that wasn’t all of it!

Silviana was regarding her with a concerned expression. “Child?” she asked. “Are you all right?”

Ha. Yeah, to anyone who is not Egwene (or Aiel, I suppose), that would look…rather worrying. It’s okay, Silviana, Egwene’s just badass and also a better Aes Sedai than most Aes Sedai.

“Can’t you see it?” Egwene asked. “Don’t you feel the pain? The agony of watching the Tower crumble around you? Could any beating compare to that?”

Silviana did not respond.

I understand, Egwene thought. I didn’t realise what the Aiel did. I assumed that I just had to be harder, and that was what would teach me to laugh at pain. But it’s not hardness at all. it’s not strength that makes me laugh. It’s understanding.

That is beautiful. And this is such a perfect chapter to follow the previous one, because the contrast is so clear. Rand hasn’t yet reached that understanding, not truly. He is lost and afraid and desperate and he doesn’t understand, not really, and he’s in so much pain that all he can think to do is become harder in order to prevent it from breaking him. So he has lost laughter, along with tears.

And the answer is understanding. Understanding what this is all for, as Egwene is finally understanding what her true focus is, what her battles and her war are all about. She was close, before, but now she understands it in full, and with that comes this sense of laughter and release and the true strength necessary to win, rather than the brittle hard strength of resistance and defiance.

So this is what Rand, too, will need to reach, in some form or another. An understanding of what it is he is doing, of why he is enduring all this pain, of what his task is and why it matters. He knows it, knows the prophecies and his role and knows he must win or the world dies, but it’s…like Egwene thinking that she has to beat Elaida and bring the Tower to herself. It’s very close to the right answer, but it lacks nuance, and the focus is ever so slightly off, but that small difference can mean everything.

“I will not make the same mistake [as Shemerin], Silviana. Elaida can say whatever she wants. But that doesn’t change who I am, or who any of us are. Even if she tries to change the Three Oaths, there will be those who resist, who hold to what is correct. And so, when you beat me, you beat the Amyrlin Seat. And that should be amusing enough to make us both laugh.” The punishment continued, and Egwene embraced the pain, took it into herself, and judged it insignificant, impatient for the punishment to cease. She had a lot of work to do.

What a fantastic chapter. So many great realisations, so much really wonderful character growth, and I am so very much looking forward to seeing how this arc plays out.

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