Me and my DnD and tabletop friend group have been talking and returning back to our old Villain game we ran, and now have a google doc with a file named “Hero World Lore” which is about 3 pages long already as a group world building project and it is the most thrilling thing I’ve done in my free time the last three weeks.
Jewish, He Roe.
“anti death advocates”
White Lab Crimes
Lab, Lottery Lotus Flower
Location USA, war crimes
LOTUS FLOWER SACRED HEALTH
Locate, Locusts, Genocide Crimes
White Supremacy casting poltergeist’s
Dime Peach 🍑
Pull 25 Quarters
Illegal Genocide Quarantine Holding
Quarantine Reverse Hazmat Murders
Dime a peach dimensional ass :$)
“Dice” dice roll and slice
Paperwork Receipt 🧾 shop paper
genocide prescriptions, death on the DICE LIST,
Paper Hog Shop.
Paper Towel Heads.
Death Roll Shit Ship Polls,
RON POLE STEAL SKIN,
Stealth Panda Bear Pandemic
DEN LICKY LICKY
Dish Washer, Machine Paperwork
“white pod room pole”
“white global genocide casts”
“white supremacy lord hebrew, roman army titan gladiators, sex police.”
PINK CHEESE CHEETOS
Pinky Winky Pumpkin Eat HANKY PANKY
“white genocide radio”
Death TROY, Roman and Hebrew White Genocide Global Murder
Genocide “Hebrew” “Roman”
Sex brutality, dirty nation assaults
Mass Genocide America Story Book
Lab Work, Death
american dirty satellite, dishes salami, factory
blue star fishes, "star light"
White Global Genocide Mass Death Casting War Crimes.
White "history sniper"
White "stir eye bell balls"
White fart floots and sex kitten whiskers
Floot floot, fart tubes
Fart War Art.
Shopping Cart Shopping Genocide
Blood Skin, Red Skin.
Lord of Hebrew Jails
Lord of Roman Ships Sell Mall Shops
HOMO SEXUAL PSY
HOLD MY SEXUAL AIDE SIDE
Island Baseball Games
Sex Arcade Casino Sure Bets
Stir Sherbert Ice Cream
Flip Flops, Pancake Ducks
Murder MALLARD DUCKS GEESE
Genocide White Holocaust Casting Victim CUT CULTURE
CAN SIR CUM MAGIC WAR MAGNET DICKS
Genocide Global White Markets
Red Irish Vs White American Genocides
Everyone vs white casting genocide
Mass Home Psy
Mass Hold Psy
Mass Homicide Genocide Psy
Mass Homicide Genetic Bet Psy
White Hebrew casts genocides
White Romania casts genocides
TAN TIL REGISTER CASH
HIGH TAN REGISTER
Genocide Blood Baths.
Spa, Hot Springs Wooden Wine Lodge
Wine Forest Lodge
Death League Baseball,
atomic murder, numerology systems.
White genocide casting,
“elitists super me”
“super sea, white supreme pizza”
“white super sea”
Genocide Knee Caps.
Murder Sickness Cells
White Hebrew Casts
White Roman Casts
“TAN STYLE EYES.”
"Hot Sim, Die Sheet"
murder at high noon
murder at mid neo knight
Genocide White Wars
Me, having grown up in Wales, seeing the outrage over the supreme court ruling that teachers can lead students in prayer
Etymology of the Martell and Sand’s Names
Doran, Dorea: Doran is an Irish and Gaelic name that means "fist, stranger, exile." It could also be an invented masculine version of the name Dora, which derivated from the Greek word doron (gift, freely given, without cost). Dorea was probably named after him.
Mellario: her name is an actual Latin adjective derivated from the word mellarius (of honey, related to honey, beekeeper).
Arianne: a variation of Ariana, which itself is a latinized version of the Greek name Ariadne (most holy). In Greek mythology Ariadne was the granddaughter of the sun god Helios, helped Theseus escape the labyrinth by giving him thread and married Dionysus, the god of grape-harvest, winemaking, orchards and fruit, fertility and festivity.
Quentyn: misspelling of Quentin, a French name derivated from the Latin name Quintinus (the fifth).
Trystane: misspelling of Trystan, a Welsh name that derivated from the French word triste (sad, sorrowful).
Elia: probably after the sun god Helios in Greek mythology or a shortening of the Late Latin name Aeliāna, the feminine form of Aeliānus (of the sun). It could also be a shortening of the Hebrew name Eliana (my God answered me, God answered my prayer) or a misspelling of the Old German name Ellia (other, foreign).
Oberyn, Obara, Obella: Oberyn is probably a misspelling of Oberon, the fairy king from from A Midsummer Night's Dream by Shakespeare. The name Oberon is derived from the Old High German name Alberich, composed by the words alb (elf) and rih (ruler, king). Obara is probably named after him, unless she’s named after obara, the Slovene meat and vegetable stew that was usually prepared for celebrations. Same with Obella, unless her name is a misspelling of Abella, which comes from the Hebrew name Abel (breath, vapor).
Ellaria: could be a misspelling of the Hebrew name Elliora (God is my light) or the Old English name Ellerey or Elleree (alder tree).
Nymeria: probably an invented name compounded by the Greek word nymphe (young woman, bride, young wife) and the Greek name Maria, which derivated from the Roman surname Marius and could come from Mars the war god, maris (male) or mare (sea). Maria could also derivate from the Hebrew name Myriam (rebellious) which once was mistranslated to Latin as Maryam (drop of the sea). It could also be a misspelling of the Greek name Nereides (clear, unmistakable, true) which is also the patronymic of fifty sea nymphs that accompany Poseidon, god of the sea, and often help sailors in Greek mythology. It could also be delivered from the Arabic noun nimer (tiger) but I don't think it very likely.
Tyene: could be a misspelling of Tine or Tinah, both variations of Tina, which itself derivated from the shortened version of Latin female names like Bettina (diminutive of Elizabeth (God is my oath, God’s promise), Christina (follower of Christ), Constantina (constant, steadfast), Martina (follower of Mars) or Valentina (strong, healthy). It could also be a misspelling of thyme or of the Spanish verb tiene (he/she has).
Sarella: probably a misspelling of Sarah, an Hebrew name derived from the word sar (chief, ruler, prince), with the female suffix ella added at the end.
Loreza: either a misspelling of Lorenza or Lorena, both derivated from the Latin surname Laurentius which derivated from the noun laurus (laurel, laurel tree).
Breathe in... Breathe out...
Pairing: Implied Finan x F!Reader
Word Count: 1415
Summary: You face the danes at Tettanhall and this time it's different...
AUTHORS NOTE: I know this isn't something most people will be interested in reading from me. Most of my readers came from Teen Wolf and Supernatural but as many of you have seen I have not been able to get anything out for over a year now.. my writing has been incredibly silent and nothing feels enough but this... this popped into my head and I couldn't not write it... There was more that I wanted to add more that i saw playing out but when it came time to get to the next scene i found i had no idea how and so this is unbeta'd and rough from the depths of my broken muse but she is mine and i hope she make make you feel something.
Masterlist || Netflix|HBO Masterlist
Breathe in… breathe out…
Breathe in… breathe out….
You watched the horizon knowing that any moment now Cnut and his army would be making their way over the ridge and towards you and your friends.
You had to remind yourself to breathe so you did not fall into a panic.
For a moment you questioned yourself. Wondering if perhaps you were overreacting… after all you had seen many battles before.
A soft voice carried on the wind.
A prayer… in that heavy accent you had come to know.
Well if the Irishman was nervous then your own nerves felt a bit more justified.
You had stood side by side your brother, Uhtred, and his group of men time and time again and you knew that each and every one of them stood before battle time and again without fear gripping them.
This time though…
This time was different.
The Mercians only had the fyrds to defend them and the Welsh that Father Pyrlig had somehow managed to convince to join you.
Numbers that were still not enough for the Dane army marching your way.
Breathe in… Breathe out…
Breathe in… Breathe out…
You could swear that you felt the ground shaking beneath you before you heard the the sounds of the of the Danes moving towards you.
You hoped that the trick your brother had managed to set up would be enough.
It had to be…
You didn’t care for most of the Saxons or most of the Danes but the ones you did care about… they stood to either side of you… along the line - prepared.
The Irishman’s voice continued to carry through the winds… caressing your skin as he prayed to his God and you could feel a rock in your stomach.
He had to survive…
You would accept nothing less.
Breathe in… Breathe out…
The sound of Cnut and his mean screaming stilled your very being as your eyes watched a wall of Danes running straight for you.
Just a few more feet and you would know.
A moment later the Danes fell into your brothers trap and you felt the blood come to life again in your veins.
With a roar you charged into the battle with the others. A swing here a swipe there. Your sword and blades breaking through skin and warm blood sliding down your arm.
You are fighting your way through Dane after Dane… the Saxons and the Welsh around you. Each time someone falls to your blade you find yourself hoping the Valkyries will find the warrior suitable for Valhalla. You tell yourself that’s why your eyes are scanning around you… a hope to glimpse a Valkyrie but you know better.
Your eyes are searching for him — The Irishman.
You are desperate to make sure that he and the others make it through this. You trusted your brother to make it through, the gods would see to that. Sihtric and Osferth would keep each other safe..
Finan had a habit of getting lost in the battle.
You can hear the battle screams echo in the field around you.
Screams of men ready to die sound so incredibly different from screams of men afraid to die.
Dodging and weaving, stabbing and slashing you make your way through the men who are your enemies today. Before you had even realized it, you had lost sight of Finan.
After you had felled a particularly tall Dane, who had fought you like a crazed animal, you looked up trying to find his head of black hair but you didn’t see it. You didn’t panic immediately but the longer it took to find the man the louder the sounds of metal would become.
“Finan!” Your voice echoed around you as your feet moved other own accord.
You continued to call his name. Desperate to ensure for yourself that he was okay. That he had not abandoned you on this field.
You hadn’t even noticed the way that the battle around you was slowing down, coming to it’s very end after Edward and Æthelred’s men having turned the tide against the Danes.
Your eyes finally found him.. He was sat on the floor, back leaning against a large rock, his face to the sky and his breathing heavy even from where you stood.
Making your way over, you dropped down next to him, your hands immediately searching his body for wounds.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, “just got the wind knocked outta me.”
You couldn’t help but scoff slightly and raised an eyebrow at him, “You would not admit it if you were on deaths door Irishman.”
You return to checking him over. Ensuring that he’s fine and only when you’re sure do you fall on your own arse and take allow the breathing to even out.
“Did nah know you cared so much”
This time you do scoff, “Of course I care you bastard.”
You watch as the corners of his lips tilt up. A smile spreading across his face and you can’t help the way that your breath is stolen away.
Breathe in… Breathe out…
Breathe in… Breathe out…
Masterlist || Netflix|HBO Masterlist
Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective . Associated characters belong to Bernard Cornwell, Stephen Butchard, Nigel Marchant, Gareth NeameProducer, Ben Murphy and Netflix (i think) and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.
Posted 13 May 2023
Today we also celebrate the Righteous Melangell the Abbess of Wales. Saint Melangell was born of royal Welsh lineage and was thus expected to marry. Yearning for the life of prayer and solitude, Melangell renounced her royal status and fled for Ireland in around 590AD and settled in an isolated area where she would sleep on bare rock with a cave as her cell. She remained hidden her for almost fifteen years. One day, as the Welsh Prince Brochfael Ysgithrog was hunting in the area, his hounds found a hare which they pursued with the intent of killing it. The hare ran through a bush and the Prince followed it. He then unexpectedly found the Hermitess Melangell in such deep prayer that she remained undistracted by the commotion happening around her. The breathless hare had found refuge in the folds of Melangell’s garment. When the Prince’s ordered his hounds to snatch the hare, the hounds dared not approach the Saint. Now aware of what was happening, Melangell calmly, but boldly, drove the dogs back. The Prince had never seen such a thing before and was in utter amazement. He cautiously approached the hermitess and asked to hear her life story. Deeply moved by the Saint, the Prince marvelled at Melangell’s beauty, purity, and love for God. Nevertheless, he suggested that she leave her solitude and marry him. She gently but adamantly refused, and the Prince was so impressed with her sanctity and determination that he donated a parcel of land on which she would found her monastery. This monastery became a refuge not only for animals, but for all people who came to Melangell to be comforted by her words. Saint Melangell lived for almost forty years in her monastery guiding and counselling all who came to her. During her life, no animal was ever killed on her land, and for centuries after, those who live in the area do not dare to hurt any hares as they are regarded to be protected by the Saint. Saint Melangell is considered the Patron Saint of hares and other small animals and performs miralces for those who come to her with faith. May she intercede for us always + #saint #melangell #ireland #wales #hermitess #monastic #anchoress #God #love #prayer #orthodox (at Newcastle, Powys, United Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoDexdth4en/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
I'm still new to witchcraft and pagan religions, and know next to nothing about it outside my own personal views of magic and sacred. So my library right now is basically the result of me trying to learn about the different (and for now, more common) deities and paths I can take my craft and worship. I don't exactly know how good all those books are, but I'll read, learn and hopefully pave my own path on the way to explore the craft and my spirituality.
To Walk a Pagan Path: Practical Spirituality for Every Day - by Alaric Albertsson
The Poetic Edda: Stories of the Norse Gods and Heroes - Edited by Jackson Crawford
The Book of Hedge Druidry: A Complete Guide for the Solitary Seeker - by Joanna Van Der Hoeven
From the Cauldron Born: Exploring the Magic of Welsh Legend & Lore - by Kristoffer Hughes
The Book of Celtic Magic: Transformative Teachings from the Cauldron of Awen - by Kristoffer Hughes
The Path of Druidry: Walking the Ancient Green Way - by Penny Billington
Greek Mythology: A Concise Guide to Ancient Gods, Heroes, Beliefs and Myths of Greek Mythology - by Hourly History
Celtic Mythology: A Concise Guide to the Gods, Sagas and Beliefs - by Hourly History
Egyptian Mythology: A Concise Guide to the Ancient Gods and Beliefs of Egyptian Mythology - by Hourly History
Norse Mythology: A Concise Guide to Gods, Heroes, Sagas and Beliefs of Norse Mythology - by Hourly History
A Handbook of Saxon Sorcery & Magic: Wyrdworking, Rune Craft, Divination, and Wortcunning - by Alaric Albertsson
Collecting Rocks, Gems and Minerals: Identification, Values and Lapidary Uses - by Patti Polk
Traditional Witchcraft and the Pagan Revival: A Magical Anthropology - by Suzanne Ruthven
The Pagan Book of the Dead: Ancestral Visions of the Afterlife and Other Worlds - by Claude Lecouteux
The Big Book of Pagan Prayer and Ritual - by Ceisiwr Serith
A Pagan Ritual Prayer Book - by Ceisiwr Serith
Circle of the Sun: Rites and Celebrations for Egyptian Pagans and Kemetics - by Sharon LaBorde
The Witchcraft Collection Volume One: Dictionary of Satanism, Dictionary of Witchcraft, and Dictionary of Pagan Religions
Paganism: An Introduction to Earth-centered Religions - by Joyce Higginbotham and River Higginbotham
The Way of Fire and Ice: The Living Tradition of Norse Paganism - by Ryan Smith
Drawing Down the Moon - by Margot Adler
The Isles of the Many Gods: An A-Z of the Pagan Gods & Goddesses Worshipped in Ancient Britain During the First Millennium CE Through to the Middle Ages - by David Rankine and Sorita D'Este
The Herbal Alchemist's Handbook: A Complete Guide to Magickal Herbs and How to Use Them - by Karen Harrison
The Magick of Food: Rituals, Offerings & Why We Eat Together - by Gwion Raven
The Crooked Path: An Introduction to Traditional Witchcraft - by Kelden
The Element Encyclopedia of Witchcraft: The Complete A-Z for the Entire Magical World - by Judika Illes
The Witch's Book of Self-Care: Magical Ways to Pamper, Soothe, and Care for Your Body and Spirit - by Arin Murphy-Hiscock
Encyclopedia of Spirits: The Ultimate Guide to the Magic of Fairies, Genies, Demons, Ghosts, Gods & Goddesses - by Judika Illes
Sigil Witchery: A Witch's Guide to Crafting Magick Symbols - by Laura Tempest Zakroff
The Witch's Altar: The Craft, Lore & Magick of Sacred Space - by Jason Mankey and Laura Tempest Zakroff
The House Witch: Your Complete Guide to Creating a Magical Space with Rituals and Spells for Hearth and Home - by Arin Murphy-Hiscock
The Green Witch: Your Complete Guide to the Natural Magic of Herbs, Flowers, Essential Oils, and More - by Arin Murphy-Hiscock
Moon Spells: How to Use the Phases of the Moon to Get What You Want - by Diane Ahlquist
Llewellyn's Complete Book of Astrology: The Easy Way to Learn Astrology - by Kris Brandt Riske
Practical Candleburning Rituals - by Raymond Buckland
Encyclopedia of Ancient Deities - by Charles Russell Coulter
Osiris - by Bojana Mojsov
Magical Alphabets: The Secrets and Significance of Ancient Scripts Including Runes, Greek, Ogham, Hebrew and Alchemical Alphabets - by Nigel Pennick
Paganism Explained, Part I: Thrymskvida - by Marie Cachet and Varg Vikernes
Paganism Explained, Part II: Little Red Riding Hood & Jack and the Beanstalk - by Marie Cachet and Varg Vikernes
Paganism Explained, Part III: The Cult of Mithra & Hymiskvida - by Marie Cachet and Varg Vikernes
Paganism Explained, Part IV: Valholl & Odinn in Yggdrasill - by Marie Cachet and Varg Vikernes
Norse Magic and Asatru: An Essential Guide to Norse Divination, Elder Futhark Runes, Paganism, and Heathenry for Beginners -by Mari Silva
The Crystal Bible - by Judy Hall
(September 17, 2022)
Water Witchcraft: Magic and Lore from the Celtic Tradition - by Annwyn Avalon
The Spirit of the Celtic Gods and Goddesses: Their History, Magical Power, and Healing Energies - by Carl McColman
Fairies: A Guide to the Celtic Fair Folk - by Morgan Daimler
The Celtic Golden Dawn: An Original & Complete Curriculum of Druidical Study - by John Michael Greer
Wild Magic: Celtic Folk Traditions for the Solitary Practitioner - by Danu Forest
Mythology: A Captivating Guide to Greek Mythology, Egyptian Mythology and Norse Mythology - by Matt Clayton
The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends - by Peter Berresford Ellis
The Morrigan: Celtic Goddess of Magick and Might - by Courtney Weber
Celtic Tales: Fairy Tales and Stories of Enchantment from Ireland, Scotland, Brittany, and Wales - by Kate Forrester
Celtic Myths and Legends - by T. W. Rolleston
Anam Cara - by John O'Donohue
Celtic Tree Magic: Ogham Lore and Druid Mysteries - by Danu Forest
Celtic Tree Rituals: Ceremonies for the Thirteen Moon Months and a Day - by Sharlyn Hidalgo
A Celtic Miscellany - by Kenneth H. Jackson
Brigid: History, Mystery, and Magick of the Celtic Goddess - by Courtney Weber
Tending Brigid's Flame: Awaken to the Celtic Goddess of Hearth, Temple, and Forge - by Lunaea Weatherstone
Tarot 101: Mastering the Art of Reading the Cards - by Huggens Kim
365 Tarot Spreads: Revealing the Magic in Each Day - by Sasha Graham
Practical Sigil Magic: Creating Personal Symbols for Success - by Frater U. D.
I'm pretty sure Z Library has all those books for free in a variety of formats for easy access (to those like me, that prefer reading a book before buying them).
Five years ago, the Henry VII statue was unveiled in his birthplace of Pembroke Castle. The years of campaigning for Henry Tudor to take the English throne were a success. Becoming the first Welsh king of England, though he was living in France most of his adult life, Henry held himself high as a Welsh prince. Henry's prayers to God were answered after defeating Richard III at the Battle of Bosworth in 1485.
PAGAN REGULUS HCS:
-he is strictly hellenic but listens to Lily (Welsh and Kemetic) talk about her experiences too
- worships Lady Hekate and Queen Persephone (he's so me)
-ALWAYS has pears on hand for offerings
-hates that Sirius is a black dog because he goes around saying he's Hekate's favourite
-uses it as an excuse to wear black all the time
-best friends with Peter (Christian) which confuses everyone because they don't get that religion isn't always a huge barrier between people
-collects pendulums like a madman
-carries around owl bones like a creep
-makes flower crowns 'for his Goddesses' and forces James to wear them 'out of respect' (he just thinks it looks cute)
-has a few veils but only wears them when he's stressed despite everyone saying they're 'a woman thing'
-carries a small token for Lady Hekate with him everywhere because it gives him confidence, here's mine for reference
-doesn't drink alcohol so when he does a ritual involving sharing wine with the gods he gets James to do it for him
-black salt in a bag on his bedroom door
-knot magic obsessed, plaits prayers and manifestations into the underneath of his hair
-dog statue on the front porch to keep the dickheads away
-would rather die than miss a meditation session
Saw a post on the issues with translation of the official Welsh prayer for King Charles III and rather than derail that, thought I'd mention something else, because I've been fascinated by the Catholic Church's official prayer for the new King.
Given the frequently... "contentious" relationship between the Catholic Church and the British Monarch, head of the Anglican Church across the world, I was a bit surprised there was one at all.
I mean, up until 2013, a member of the Royal family marrying a Catholic would automatically remove them from the line of succession, so not a lot of love lost historically.
But apparently things have softened a little, but not TOO much as the official Prayer starts in a delightfully passive aggressive manner!
O God, to whom every human power is subject
grant to your servant our sovereign Charles
So we're not starting with a blessing or the like, but straight in with a "Reminding you to know your place Chuck. You might be King, but that's nowt to do with you" and stressing the "your servant" before "our sovereign"
This is doubled down on in the second part, which begins
Almighty God, we pray,
that your servant Charles, our King,
who, by your providence has received the governance of this realm
Lately, I've been drawn to both Celtic Paganism/Witchcraft (I try to follow more Scottish folk practices and faery lore, but there is some supplementing with Irish and Welsh here and there) and Catholicism. I know there's a large period of time when the Gaelic speaking lands transitioned from their pagan worship to an early western european brand of Christianity, and several fiction authors have touched on certain elements of this time period, namely Marion Zimmer Bradley in Mists of Avalon and Kate Horsley in Confessions of a Pagan Nun. But what I was wondering is if there's any good non-fiction out there about everyday practices that embrace these two disparate faiths. Kindling the Celtic Spirit by Mara Freeman includes prayer after prayer that mentions both the Virgin Mary as well as Brighid...though I'm unsure whether they mean Saint or Goddess, if the prayers are actually accurate to what was being chanted in Ireland and Scotland. A lot of them are noted as Hebridean prayers; the Hebrides having had a lot of Brighid worship, that would make sense. Though still interesting that a potentially pagan goddess would be invoked along with the Holy Mother. I don't know what I'm asking exactly, but is there any historical precedent for Christian Gaels still honoring their pagan practices? Thanks.
OH MY FRIEND
MAY I INTRODUCE YOU TO THE SCOTTISH SYNCRETIC PRAYER BOOK KNOWN AS THE CARMINA GADELICA ?!
But the thing to remember here is that it’s less “vestiges of pagan thought” and more “the church adapting to the pagan culture” in the Gaelic countries, the Gaelic Church had a really fascinating history that I’d highly recommend looking into for this!
There’s also a TON of evidence for folkloric spirits being invoked by Catholics in magical purposes! The Medieval English often invoked both Woden and the Christian God in the same spell! The folklore stayed, and folk practices stayed they just evolved to fit the worldview of the Gaelic church and to work well within the bounds of Catholicism.
If you dm me I can send you my entire Google drive folder of academic sources on syncretism!
What’s your least favorite myth? I don't really look at it that way. I'm certainly not fond of the ones involving consent violations.
What’s your favorite myth? Again, I don't really look at it that way. I suppose I like the ones that are just plain weird.
What pantheon(s) do you worship? I'm effectively an omnitheist. Depending on how one itemizes pantheons, I've had at least brief contact with more than I'd like to try to count. But the pantheons I relate to consistently enough to have permanent marks on my body for are: Vanir, Aesir, Orixa, Loa, Irish, Welsh, Hellenic, Kemetic, and an infinity symbol for the Whole That Is Divine. I'm also an animist.
Who is your least favorite ancient poet/philosopher/old guy who said “smart” things? Probably Thomas Aquinas. Not that he had much to say about my faith, really. But I had to read some of his work in my Religious Studies and Philosophy classes in university and am definitely not a fan.
What’s your favorite snack to share with the gods? (Curtesy of @luminarycanary) Honey is sacred to nearly all of them. I collect varietals.
Do you pray daily? If so, do you have a prayer schedule? I don't have a schedule. I have everyday prayers, but I say them as the impulse arises, not literally every day. They go well before a meal, and before undertaking ritual work. But they're specifically centered on the Vanir, who are Family/Home to me, so I have other set prayers/songs for other purposes, as well as whatever extemporaneous expression arises.
Do you do any rituals or celebrate any holidays/festivals? Yes. Many. MANY. I should make this its own post.
How often do you make offerings, and what is your most common offering to give? The most common offerings are a candle, a libation, or a song. Candles happen several times a week these days, if only for the Community Well Being Altar. Libations are less common. They used to be several times a month, but the reasons for that have fallen away over the last few years. Still, at least monthly. Songs are connected to specific prompts, which have also fallen away over the last couple years. Those, too, are closer to monthly right now.
How many altars do you currently have up, if any at all? Uhhhhhh *counts* 8-12, depending on how you count altars, I think? Some people distinguish between altars and shrines, at which point I'd have to say most of those are shrines. If I itemize the individual deities, I have easily dozens, but they’re mostly clumped together by pantheon or domain. I have one, maybe two working altars going most of the time lately.
Have you ever made a travel altar? In the sense of making a specific small portable altar/shrine thingy, no. In the sense of packing up a small box of whatever it seems like I might need for travel, many times. I’m not opposed - it sounds like a fun craft project. But what I need with me varies a little too much, beyond what I carry in my purse all the time anyway.
What deity do you think your taste in music best represents, regardless of who you worship? Probably Brighid. With a side of Ghede.
What has been your favorite interaction with a deity so far? I have absolutely no idea how to answer this.
What is your favorite devotional act? Singing!
Would you say there’s a certain “type” of deity you follow? Or are you more broad, without rhyme or reason? Most of the gods I work with at all frequently are on the Life/Death axis, or are Tricksters. But I will work with almost any deity who drops by, if there's a reason for it. Magic is also a pretty common domain around here.
Have you ever worked with a deity? As opposed to what? Well, regardless, by just about every definition that might have been meant by this, yes. Working with deities is pretty well my job. I'm ordained Vanatru clergy, a spirit worker, dreamworker, oracle, and witch.
Have you ever been to a religious site (for your deities)? Several. It seems like every time I get to go on vacation, the Powers find a way to turn it into a pilgrimage. Gamla Uppsala in particular was wonderful.
Do you have any UPGs? Quite a few. Mostly about the Vanir.
What is your favorite way to communicate with the gods? Possession trance is extremely helpful, but there's a lot of places to introduce error into the process, and it can be damaging to handle it poorly. Still, ecstatic trance states in general are a major focus of my practice, when possible.
Do you just worship deities, or do you worship heroes, spirits, etc. as well? My practices include animism and ancestor reverence. I tend to focus less on "heroes", and more on personal connections, and general interconnectedness.
What’s something new you want to try in your worship? Herbalism. Fragrance blending. The overlap between my list of craft interests and my list of worship interests is very high.
What would your ideal practice look like? I wish I knew! The last few years have changed a lot, and I'm frankly at a bit of a loss now. It's been exhausting. I can't keep up what I had to build during lockdown, and the extended community practices that supported me before don't work anymore. Figuring out what I and we need to do henceforth is a big, big task on my plate right now. More than I can really address, yet.
Have you ever received a dream/a big sign from a deity? I'm a dreamworker, so my sense of scale for this is probably skewed. But yes, several times.
Are there any new deities you want to contact? I already have more deities on my list than I know what to do with. I won't refuse newcomers, but I'm not seeking them out.
How do you define devotion vs worship? “Worship” is the expression of love for divinity. Forms of worship correspond to "love languages": praise, offerings, services, etc. “Devotion” is a deeply personal relationship with a specific entity. They’re different points on a continuum. Roughly the emotional difference between enjoying a party to honor a member of your community you think well of but don’t necessarily hang out with much personally, vs. paying personal attention to your best friend, lover, sibling, etc. Either way, the point is the relationship.
What is your favorite symbol of your deity(ies)? I am rather fond of the Vanatru Boar symbol.
🙏🏽 Power to Celtic Elf 🧝🏽♀️ Elves 🧝🏽♂️
All to Cells & Ourselves, WON ✨ another Yourselves & Ourselves
Elves 🧝🏽♀️ Whisper Wisp Wispy 🧚🏻 🧚🏿♂️
Lovely 💖 Honors 💪🏽 Fay Say May Sue
not bruality gangs “mace you” “race card you” dangerous white bullies!!
#irish #celtic #welsh #public
theres some tiny fizes fixes… pixie magikkkk haha.
okay anyways TOTALLY NEW SUBJECTS! prayers & best regards, no slander campaigns
summary: Eydís has long been the most loyal of Brida’s shieldmaidens. They have always been close, but Brida’s enslavement following their defeat at Tettenhall changes everything. For Eydís, it means reuniting with a boy - no, a man - she never once thought she would see again.
pairing: sigtryggr x oc
tagging: @levithestripper @morosemagick @timetravelingpenguin1066 @volvaaslaug (thank you for your help!!!) @treasures-of-jorvik @1blue-green1 @fallingintomagic
Many Danes lie dead on the battlefield at Tettenhall. Those that survive have no leader: Cnut’s body has been found in the woods, and Brida is missing. Eydís sits awake well into the night, for sleep does not have the decency to spare her from the memories of all that she has lost.
A rumour begins to swirl around their depleted camp that Brida has been enslaved by the Welsh, that Uhtred Ragnarson had been seen nearby, and suddenly Eydís feels a hot rush of anger towards the Dane-Slayer for letting it happen. She knows Brida will have wished for Valhalla, and he - despite all that he has suffered - did not fulfil that wish.
But there is little to be done. The Saxons have the victory, the numbers, and the Danes have neither. It is with a heavy heart that Eydís sends her prayers to the gods, even though she knows that recovering Brida will be close to impossible.
After months of bleak news, a report of Danes sighted in Wealas sends Eydís all but flying down to the kingdom with only a few men in tow. She doesn’t stop until she reaches Deheubarth, where she finally sees these Danes for herself.
The first to greet her is Brida, whose stomach is significantly rounder than when Eydís had seen her last. She is pathetically relieved to see that both Brida and her child appear to be as well as possible under the circumstances.
“I did not see you after the battle… I feared you hadn’t survived,” says Brida, drawing Eydís into a hug.
Eydís holds her tightly. “I was worried myself,” she weakly grins, although she sobers upon noticing the angry bruises marking Brida’s neck and wrists. “I hope you killed the bastards that did this to you.”
Brida smirks. “You arrived in time, then.”
Despite their warm reunion, guilt continues to eat away at Eydís. “I am sorry we didn’t come back for you. We wanted to, truly-”
“There was little you could have done,” Brida says. “I understand. Please don’t think that I’m angry with you, I could never be.”
Eydís knows she speaks the truth, but still tears well up in her eyes. “Forgive me-”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Brida assures her, embracing her regardless. “Now come,” she adds, wiping Eydís’ face with a smile.
She beckons Eydís into the great Welsh palace, although it has been all but desecrated. Several warriors sit idly chewing on the food scattered across tables, following them with her eyes. There is something strangely familiar about some of them, but Eydís cannot seem to put her finger on it.
“I came as soon as I heard talk of Danes here,” she admits, watching the men she brought sit alongside the others. Soon, they are talking and laughing as though they have known each other for longer than a few minutes, and the sight brings a smile to her face.
“Yes. They sailed over from Irland,” Brida says, giving her a knowing look, and at once Eydís’ head snaps up.
She had once counted herself as one of them, back before they moved across the sea. Her childhood spent in Irland is now little more than a memory, although one she often looks back on with a great deal of fondness.
To now be faced with it is something else entirely.
“Eydís,” a somewhat-familiar voice asks, “is that really you?”
His hair is longer, she thinks, and his voice has deepened. While such change is to be expected after a decade, it still manages to come as a shock to her.
“Indeed it is, Sigtryggr,” she answers finally. “You’ve grown.”
“While you have not,” he replies with a tinge of amusement, and she rolls her eyes.
“Rognvaldr is not with you?” she questions, looking around unsuccessfully for his brother.
Sigtryggr shakes his head, regret seeping into his features. “I had no time to go back for him, but… I have been told he is alive.”
“Did you hear where he could be?”
“Iceland,” he answers. “I understand he has joined the Danes there.”
Eydís sighs. She grew up with both brothers, and as idiotic as Rognvaldr was back then, she knows the love Sigtryggr has for him. Being separated like this must be a terrible burden to bear.
“You miss him,” she says finally. He nods. “Then, we can miss him together.”
The corners of Sigtryggr’s lips turn upward and Eydís returns his smile.
“When will we be leaving here, then?” she asks eventually.
Strangely, he frowns. “Leaving? To go where?”
“To Wessex or Mercia,” says Brida, chewing on a leg of chicken as she strolls over to them. “I'm tired of killing farmers and their wives.”
Her thoughts mirror Eydís’ own.
“My men have travelled from Irland after months of battle,” Sigtryggr points out. “They are tired. And where better to rest than here? We have food. We are safe. There's no reason to leave.”
Eydís wills herself to understand his perspective, but she simply cannot - the Sigtryggr she knew would have leapt at the chance to avenge them. “Edward and Uhtred slaughtered our kin. They must pay for that! Surely you-”
“And they will,” Sigtryggr says, calmly cutting across her.
Eydís does not know where this new attitude is coming from, but right now it is beyond infuriating.
“When?” Brida demands.
“When the time is right,” he replies simply.
Eydís rolls her eyes to the heavens. For once, can he not be so fucking serene?
“I did not keep myself alive in that hole in the ground to watch your men get fat here while the Saxons grow stronger,” Brida spits.
“They are weak now after Tettenhall,” Eydís adds. “They will not expect us to attack.” Although her words are reasonable, her tone is clipped.
“You have a warrior's spirit, and this is good,” he says. “But if I ask my men to fight, it must be for a reason I believe in. They will fight to protect their families, or for food, or for land. But vengeance for Tettenhall... it is not enough.”
Incredulously, Eydís stares at him. “So we will wait until the Saxons grow stronger and risk another Tettenhall, then.”
“What?” she snaps. “Is that not what will happen?”
“I will go to find our allies to the north,” Brida interjects before they can argue, although her own irritation is tangible. “They will fight the Saxons.”
Sigtryggr exhales and nods. “Then that is what you must do.”
“I will need ten men to escort me on my journey. You owe me that.”
“You can have five.”
Eydís glares at him, and storms off without a word.
Wandering the halls of the palace surprisingly helps to soothe her temper. The noise in the room she left fades with every step she takes, until soon she is embraced with silence. It gives her time to think.
Eydís simply cannot equate the reckless, ambitious boy she had grown up alongside with the cool, indifferent man she has just clashed with after ten years apart, no matter how hard she tries.
She takes a left and finds herself in the largest bedroom she has ever seen. It must have belonged to a princess or a queen, if the silk dresses scattered across the ornate furniture are anything to go by.
Eydís looks completely out of place in comparison. Her braid is messy, her armour worn, her eyes tired and sad. Sighing, she kicks her boots off and sits cross-legged on the bed, staring at the pendant of Thor’s hammer in her hands. It had belonged to a friend of hers, one who had died at Tettenhall. Eydís half-believed she would never stop mourning him.
It is Sigtryggr, awkwardly standing in the doorway as though he is unsure whether to enter or not. The uncharacteristic sight almost makes Eydís smile.
“Brida is going to kill her captor. Will you watch?”
Despite her happiness at being reunited with Brida, Eydís has no intention of doing so. “Do not delay her,” she says simply. “I’ll stay here.”
“As you wish,” Sigtryggr replies. “I will send for you when she leaves.”
Eydís nods. “Thank you,” she says curtly.
He gives her a crooked smile that she inexplicably returns before he turns to leave - and just for a moment, she sees the boy she had once adored.
It is not long before Sigtryggr returns, this time without a word that needs to be said. Eydís jumps up at once, secretly grateful for the distraction from her thoughts. Any longer and she feels she may go mad.
After a long embrace, Eydís sees Brida off. As her shieldmaiden, she offers to accompany her at first, but Brida quickly refuses, insisting that Eydís needs to remain behind and reacquaint herself with Sigtryggr… no matter how badly they have clashed at first.
“She will be safe,” Sigtryggr says, moving to stand beside her.
Eydís merely nods. She watches until they are out of sight, and wordlessly walks away to eat.
Eydís knows she has not been herself since Tettenhall, and nobody expects her to be. They all respect her reluctance to join in their conversation and her wish to be left alone. So it annoys her to no end when Sigtryggr catches up to her as she is about to return to her room.
“Can I speak with you?” he asks.
“About what?” But she already knows the answer.
His gaze is almost beseeching, willing her to shed her cold demeanour and allow him to explain himself. It is only, only because she had loved him once that she lets him in.
“Speak, then,” she says shortly. “Tell me why the loss of our people at Tettenhall is not a good enough reason to fight.”
“I am not minimising your loss,” sighed Sigtryggr. “But if I am to be a good leader to my men, I must be cautious.”
“My loss,” she scoffs.
The look he gives her hints at exasperation. “What use is an attempt at vengeance if it is not to our advantage?”
Eydís laughs derisively. “So you will content yourself with a Welsh fortress, then, and fight only to defend it against Hywel or invaders.”
“I have control here,” Sigtryggr counters her, “enough to create stability for the Danes that they will not find elsewhere.”
“And what about all those dreams you told me about?” Eydís says accusingly. “Time and time again! About how you would become a great warrior, how you would rule over your own kingdom! The Sigtryggr I knew would never settle for this, he would never miss an opportunity to avenge his fellow Danes!”
Sigtryggr exhales deeply. “That was the wishful thinking of a green boy,” he reasons after a moment. “Eydís, I understand your pain-”
“Do you?” Eydís shouts suddenly. “Do you really?”
His infuriatingly serene attitude towards her suffering thus far has not exactly proven that he has even a semblance of empathy.
“Yes,” he insists, “I do. More than you know.”
“No, you don’t,” Eydís hisses. “You have no idea. If you did, you would be angry. You would be raring to show the bastards exactly what happens to those who hurt us. You would feel the need to avenge those you lost, and instead-”
“I understand perfectly well,” Sigtryggr interjects, his voice a little louder than he perhaps intended it to be.
To Eydís, it finally sounds like his calm, collected mask is slipping.
“Where is your anger, then?” she asks. “Where is your willingness to fight? ”
His jaw clenches for a second. “I promise you, it is there. But we cannot blindly rush to our deaths as Cnut rushed to his!”
“We will not be blindly rushing to our deaths!” she snaps. “Did you not hear Brida’s words? Tettenhall has weakened them. If we do not strike now, then we give them enough time to prepare themselves. This is the best chance we have, Sigtryggr. Only a fool would give it up.”
She is met with silence, and realises at once the truth behind his reluctance.
Sigtryggr’s head snaps up at this, and he gives her a hard stare. “Of what?”
“You’re afraid of repeating Cnut’s mistakes,” she says.
“It is not fear that drives me to make my decisions,” Sigtryggr counters, but his voice has risen again.
Eydís merely shakes her head. “There’s no use in lying to me. This isn’t some tactical decision based purely on logic or strategy. No… you are afraid of repeating whatever took place in Irland, aren’t you?”
This mention of Irland is the final crack in Sigtryggr’s calm exterior.
“Then forgive me for not allowing myself to be ruled by my every whim!” he shouts. “Forgive me for not wanting to see my men share the same fate as your friends!”
His flippant language quickly reignites her anger. “My friends?”
“Yes, your friends!” he retorts. “I-”
“They were my family,” Eydís interrupts, her voice a guttural growl. “Don’t you dare speak of them when you cannot even find the courage to help us avenge them. Don’t you dare.”
He opens his mouth to speak, and she hopes his next words will be an apology, because if not-
“Why not? If I am the coward for keeping my men safe, then Cnut is the fool for allowing yours to be slaughtered.”
At this callous remark, Eydís finally loses all control. “Get the hell out of this room!” she screams. “I can’t even look at you right now!”
Her breathing is ragged with rage as he gives her one final unreadable look before leaving, perhaps accepting that he has gone a step too far.
She slams the door behind him as soon as he has passed through the doorway. Much of her heated fury falls away in that instant and is replaced with grief.
Eydís ignores the dirt on her boots soiling the fine linen sheets as she sits on the bed and cries for all that she has lost. Not just her friends, her family - but her friendship with Sigtryggr, too. She cannot help but recall the childhood she spent with him, questioning how something so happy and innocent can be destroyed so badly. Ten years spent apart has created distance between the two of them, and she wonders whether it can ever be closed.
As angry as she is with him, she misses him, too. Even when they quarrelled as children, the feeling it invoked has remained the same - it is unbearable.
After an indefinite amount of time, one of Sigtryggr’s men appears at her door.
“You are needed,” he says.
Eydís scowls. “What for?”
“Sigtryggr believes Hywel will return tonight to retake this place,” he answers, either indifferent or oblivious to her foul mood. “He is devising a plan as we speak.”
In truth, this is something she should have anticipated but, with the tumultuous events of the past few hours, their current situation has not crossed her mind even once.
Still, she reasons, this will be good. Battle will harden her weakened spirit.
Sigtryggr’s plan is simple: they will fire up arrows and rain them down upon the Welsh force - thereby setting the field ablaze and trapping them within the flames, leaving what remains of them for his men to swiftly finish off.
Despite the icy atmosphere between the two of them, they silently elect to remain beside each other throughout the fight, which occurs nearby in Dinefwr. As predicted, King Hywel and his men return under the cover of darkness, and are promptly surprised by the Danes.
Not being particularly proficient with a bow of any sort, Eydís waits with Sigtryggr until Hywel orders a retreat and is promptly thwarted by a second line of fire. She draws her sword and pushes her way through with the other men, hacking and slicing at what is left of Hywel’s men until there is no one left standing.
Breathing heavily with adrenaline, she lowers her sword and instinctively looks around until her eyes finally land on Sigtryggr. Her anger towards him is momentarily forgotten in favour of relief, although she always knew he would live today.
He, too, is surveying the smouldering battlefield, and she lets herself admire him for a moment - how far he has come. Where once was a budding fighter now stands a true warrior. Although it is a natural progression, Eydís only wishes she could have been there to witness it.
His head turns while her eyes are still on him and they inexplicably share a long gaze, trying desperately to read the other’s expression. Eydís wonders whether it is just weariness in his eyes, or perhaps a longing for the same things as her. The simple security of childhood, the fledgling affection between them that may well have grown into something more had she not left so suddenly.
The moment is quickly shattered when someone approaches Sigtryggr to speak, and both turn away from each other with the same churning feeling in their stomachs.
As Eydís approaches the door to her room that night, she finds Sigtryggr already waiting there for her. Rather than turning him away, she enters and wordlessly bids him to follow her in.
Sigtryggr begins to speak as soon as they are both seated at the foot of the bed.
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he says. Eydís breaks her gaze from the floor to look at him, her expression unreadable. “It was thoughtless and stupid of me.”
“I know,” she replies, inadvertently making him smile.
“I did not mean to hurt you,” he continues, “but I know my words did the opposite. I’m truly sorry, Eydís.”
She regards him for a moment; his guilt is palpable, the sincerity in his eyes clear, and her heart yearns to forgive him in an instant.
“I know,” she repeats. “It’s alright.”
A line appears between his brows. “You lost so many dear to you,” he says. “The last thing you needed was for me to-”
“Sigtryggr,” she says. “It is in the past now. What’s done is done.”
All she wants now is to forgive and forget, but before she can do the latter, there is something she needs to know.
“What happened in Irland?” she asks gently.
Sigtryggr swallows, and Eydís feels her stomach sink. Every warrior has experienced defeat in some form or another, but this feels much heavier than that.
“We were driven out of our settlements by the Irish,” he says eventually, staring at the floor. “What you see here is all that is left of us. Many were lost, they-”
He breaks off and puts his head in his hands. Eydís gently squeezes his shoulder until he can collect himself well enough to speak again.
“I dream about it sometimes,” he admits. “Everything that could go wrong, did. I am lucky that Rognvaldr survived, but everyone else, they…”
Eydís watches this brave, stoic warrior fall apart before her eyes, and she takes him in her arms without a second thought. Her heart breaks as she imagines the worst, and tears soon leave tracks in the soot on both their faces. His mother and father and little Ødger, who had been a second family to her during her time in Irland - they are no more.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t know.”
Sigtryggr sits back, but his hands linger on her forearms. “Exactly. Do not apologise, Eydís. You didn’t know.”
“Even so. I suppose we both feel like shit now.”
He smiles at that. “We don’t have to.”
In response, he receives a questioning look.
“At the very least, we have each other now, don’t we?” he says.
Eydís rolls her eyes at the sappy phrasing, but the corners of her lips turn upward slightly. He is right, they do - for better or for worse.
“I will not keep anything hidden from you any longer,” he promises. “We always used to quarrel as children because of that, and we have spent far too long apart to repeat that.”
Eydís grins - he never would have admitted this as a boy.
“While we have the time, I would like to get to know you again, Eydís.”
“Me too,” she says brightly. “What would you like to know first?”
Sigtryggr laughs. “Well, to begin with, how have you been?”
Eydís hums. “Lonely, mostly. I miss everyone.”
“I do, too,” he says softly. “So, we can miss them together.”
At the familiar phrasing, a smile tugs at Eydís’ features.
“I missed you,” she murmurs, resting her head on his chest. His arms wrap around her at once, as though they were always meant to be there. “You fought well today, you know. You’ve finally become quite the warrior.”
Sigtryggr presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I would hope so,” he grins. “Thank you, hjartað mitt. I missed you too… even your sharp tongue.”
Eydís snorts, but his words warm her cheeks.
“You’ve always been quite the warrior,” he continues with a smile.
“Well, that only took you over a decade to admit,” she laughs, and he laughs too.
Irland and Tettenhall may have changed the two of them in more ways than one, but not for the worse. Despite everything, the love they have for one another has survived - and no matter how stupidly sentimental that sounds to Eydís, she knows it is the truth.
hjartað mitt = my heart
Etymology of the Stark’s Names
Eddard, Ned: misspelling of Edward, a name of Anglo-Saxon origin composed by the words ēad (wealth, fortune, prosperous) and weard (guardian, protector). His name could be a reference to Edward the Confessor, patron saint of England, the monarchy of England and difficult marriages, or to Edward the Martyr.
Catelyn: a variation of the Irish name Caitlin, which derivates from Katherine and has long been associated with the Greek word katharos (pure, immaculate). Her name could be a reference to Saint Katherine, the patron saint of unmarried girls, maidens and spinsters, craftmen who work with wheels (potters, spinners, millers, knife sharpeners, mechanics), dying people and nurses, jurists and lawyers, educators in general (scholars, archivists, students and schoolchildren, philosophers, librarians and libraries), secretaries and preachers.
Robb: from Robert, a name of proto-Germanic origin composed by the words hroth (fame, glory, honour, praise, renown) and berth (bright, light, shining).
Jon: either a misspelling of John, which is the transliterated and contracted form of the Hebrew name Yehochanan (Yahweh is gracious, merciful) or a shortening of Jonathan (Yahweh has given). There are a lot of saints called John, but the most important is John the Apostle, patron of love, loyalty, friendship, writers in general (authors, scribes, editors, publishers), burn-victims, poison-victims, art-dealers, examinations, scholars and theologians. There's also a Saint Jonathan, whose attributes are bow and arrow and who represents friendship and honesty.
Sansa: most likely named after the stanza, a group of lines within a poem, usually set off from others by a blank line or indentation.
Arya: most likely named after the nymph Aria or Areia, which in Ancient Greek means "warlike." In music, an aria is a self-contained piece for one voice, with or without orchestral accompaniment. Given that all the metaphors for songs and dances being battles and wars in the series, her name could be foreshadowing some crucial role in the War for the Dawn 2.0.
Brandon, Bran: it could be a variation of the Irish name Breandán (prince, king, chieftain) or the Anglo-Saxon surname Brandon, composed by brōm (gorse shrub) and dūn (hill) or brant (deep, steep) and dūn (hill). I'm pretty sure there was a variety of gorse called the lupine, but don't quote me on that. In Old Welsh, the word Brân means "crow, little raven." It could also come from the surname Brand (sword) which derivated from the Old French word brandon (burning material to set fire).
Rickon, Rickard: Rickon is a surname which means “son of Richard.” Rickard is a variation of the name Richard, a name of proto-Germanic origin, composed by the words rīk (ruler, leader, king) and hardu (strong, brave, hardy). Maybe foreshadowing Rickon becoming King in the North? There's also a Saint Richard patron of Wessex.
Benjen: from Benjamin, an Hebrew name which means "son of the right (hand)" although it could also means "son of my days." Often used for the youngest son of a family, specially if the parents are unlikely to have more children.
Lyanna: most likely a misspelling of Eliana. In Hebrew, the name can be literally translated to “my God answered me” or “God answered my prayer.” Eliana could also come from the Late Latin name Aeliāna, the femenine form of Aeliānus (of the sun), or from the Greek name Helen or Helene. Lyanna's name was probably picked to parallel her to Elia, both victims of reproductive abuse at Rhaegar's hands, and as a reference to Helene's abduction.
Cash, stamps and flags: how royal symbols will now change
When George VI died in his sleep at Sandringham during the early hours of 6 February 1952, his eldest daughter, Princess Elizabeth, then visiting Kenya with her husband, immediately became Queen Elizabeth II.
“The same simultaneous process will occur at the death of Queen Elizabeth and assumption of the throne by King Charles III,” Robert Blackburn, a professor of constitutional law at King’s College London, has told parliament.
However, after the Queen’s record-breaking reign, unpicking her name, image and iconography from the fabric of national life in the UK and across the Commonwealth will take much longer. These are some of the things that will need to change.
From the flags that fly outside police stations across the UK to the standard used on a naval ship when a general is onboard, thousands of flags emblazoned with EIIR will need to be replaced. Military regiments fly “Queen’s colours”, many of which are studded with a golden embroidered EIIR; the fire service ensign includes her initials and countries where the Queen remains head of state, including Australia, Canada and New Zealand, have what flag experts call “E flags” – personal flags for the Queen that are used when she is visiting.
It is possible that the royal standard – the quartered flag that flies wherever the monarch is in residence – could also change. The version used by the Queen includes one quarter representing Scotland (a lion rampant), one for Ireland (a harp), and two representing England (three lions passant), but none for Wales. It has been in use since long before Wales had its own national flag, recognised in 1959. The next monarch could incorporate a Welsh element.
Bank notes and coins
There are 4.5bn sterling bank notes in circulation with the Queen’s face on them, worth a combined £80bn. Replacing them with alternatives featuring the head of the new monarch is likely to take at least two years. When the latest synthetic £50 notes were issued, the process of recall and replacement took the Bank of England 16 months. When the Queen acceded to the throne in 1952, the monarch was not featured on the banknotes. That changed in 1960 when the face of Elizabeth II began to appear on £1 notes in an image created by the banknote designer Robert Austin, which some criticised as too severe. An image of the new monarch would be agreed with Buckingham Palace. The Queen’s head also features on some $20 banknotes in Canada, on coins in New Zealand, and on all coins and notes issued by the Eastern Caribbean central bank, as well as other parts of the Commonwealth.
Coin designs may be changed more slowly if historical precedent is followed: it was common to have different monarchs in your wallet as the changeover in coins happened organically rather than through recall.
One of the most straightforward changes, in theory, will be switching the words of the national anthem from “God save our gracious Queen” to “God save our gracious King” – although it may take time before large crowds sing the new version with confidence. The anthem has been in use since 1745 when an early version ran: “God save great George our king, Long live our noble king, God save the king.”
The Queen was the “defender of the faith and supreme governor” of the Church of England, and there are prayers to her in the Book of Common Prayer, which dates from 1662. One asks God to “replenish her with the grace of thy Holy Spirit, that she may alway incline to thy will, and walk in thy way”. These are expected to be amended to become prayers for the new monarch. This must be done by legislation or a royal warrant and was last done after the Queen Mother died. Priests are also able to amend the prayer for temporary use, which means prayers to the monarch that are commonly said in Sunday services and evensong can quickly be adapted to the new defender of the faith.
In services of holy communion contained in the common worship, there is a “collect” for the sovereign that asks God to “rule the heart of thy chosen servant Elizabeth, our Queen and governor, that she may above all things seek thy honour and glory”. This can be changed by the General Synod.
The familiar royal arms, which feature a lion and a unicorn rampant against a shield, are used widely on government premises and stationery, and any change would be costly, but it may not be necessary. It would need to change if the new monarch decided to represent Wales on the shield in line with any change to the royal standard.
From the Angostura bitters company in Trinidad and Tobago to the Sussex farrier Zack Treliving, the Queen’s royal warrant currently applies to more than 600 businesses that have a history of supplying the royal household. Brands enjoying the use of the Queen’s arms on their marketing materials include Steinway pianos, Jordans cereals, Gordon’s gin and Swarovski jewellers, as well as plumbers, fence makers, sound engineers, hedge trimmers and flour millers. After the death of the Queen they stand to lose their status, unless they are granted a new warrant by her successor or another member of the royal family who becomes a grantor – potentially a new Prince of Wales. This may not happen quickly. When Prince Philip died, his royal warrant holders were given two years’ grace. A new monarch could decide to adjust the criteria to be met to become a royal warrant holder, for example by increasing the emphasis on sustainability.
Post boxes and stamps
Royal Mail postboxes bearing Queen Elizabeth’s royal cypher, ER, are unlikely to be removed. Some with King George VI’s GR cypher remain in use today, 70 years on. The Post Office, however, will change stamps, with a profile image of the new monarch being used.
Pledges of allegiance
MPs are not allowed to sit in the House of Commons, speak in debates, vote or receive a salary unless they pledge allegiance to the crown. Since 1952, the wording has been: “I (name of Member) swear by almighty God that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, her heirs and successors, according to law. So help me God.”
MPs and peers will have to swear a new oath to her successor. New British citizens are also asked to swear to “bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the second, her heirs and successors”, and the Home Office is likely to change that. Cubs and scouts promise to “do my duty to the Queen” while new members of the armed forces swear to “be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, her heirs and successors”.
The Queen’s death is a precarious moment for some of Britain’s wider Commonwealth realm, 14 countries of which recognise the monarch as their head of state. In many cases their constitutions state that the Queen, specifically, is the head of state. In these countries, constitutions will need to be amended to refer to her successor. In countries such as Jamaica, where there is a strong independence movement, and Belize, these constitutional changes will also require a referendum, according to Commonwealth experts. This is expected to bring about a moment of political peril for the new monarch, who, after Barbados became independent in 2021, could face the loss of another prominent part of the Caribbean Commonwealth.
Questions are also likely to arise in countries such as Papua New Guinea, Solomon Islands, Tuvalu, Antigua and Barbuda, the Bahamas, Grenada, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia and Saint Vincent and the Grenadines over whether the new monarch could lawfully appoint a governor general, if the relevant country’s constitution has not been changed to refer to the King, and continues to refer to the Queen as head of state.
The Queen’s name is also stitched into myriad other laws that will require redrafting, neither an easy nor a cheap process, especially for smaller countries that do not employ their own legislative drafters.
Among the constitutional monarchies, Australia, Canada and New Zealand have measures in place so the new monarch automatically becomes head of state.
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