#Secret History of Empress M

[night-gay]

Into the Anthill pt 39 - Requiem For A Wasp

Hank’s back from skrull captivity and here’s the highlights of what he missed:

Tony started a Civil war in the superhero community

They launched Hulk into space and he came back PISSED

Janet van Dyne, Steve Rogers, and Bill Foster died

Skrull invaded Earth by replacing important people

The skrull version of him got Tigra pregnant

Bearing all of that in mind, Hank takes on a new superhero identity (The Wasp) and begins to date Jocasta (an A.I. based on Janet’s mind). He’s sure got a funny way of moving on with his life.

Mighty Avengers vol 1 #15

While teaching at Oxford Hank became romantically involved with a student (secretly the skrull Criti Noll). Jan was too busy partying and drinking to notice, so he ended up spending quite a bit of time with Criti because she’d taken an interest in his life and asked lots of questions. When the topic of conversation shifted to the skrulls she revealed herself to be one and knocked him out. While Hank was unconscious on the floor, Janet came home and encountered Criti in her student disguise. Furious that he’d cheated on her, she stormed off without confronting him. With Hank now in skrull captivity, Criti was given Hank’s identity, powers, and appearance to take his place as a double-agent among Earth’s superheroes.

Secret Invasion vol 1 #8

With his dying breath, Criti triggered a reaction he’d added into Wasp to turn her into a walking chemical bomb when she went giant sized. Her death led to a relentless offensive from Earth’s heroes and villains which culminated in the death of Veranke the skrull empress as well as the defeat of the invading armada. Among the ships in orbit Iron Man was able to find everyone they had replaced and held prisoner. As they reunited with their friends and family, Hank asked where Janet was.

Mighty Avengers vol 1 #20

Struck by the news that not just Janet, but also Bill Foster and Steve Rogers had died in his absence, Hank asked Carol to fill him in on what else he’d missed. At first she was hesitant, but he insisted. She then recapped the events of House of M, the Superhuman Civil War, Captain America’s death, World War Hulk, and the Secret Invasion. With all of these tragedies  in mind, Hank took to the stage at Janet’s funeral and blamed Tony for her death as well as Captain America’s. Thor calmed him somewhat before escorting him out to mourn with him privately. The look on Tony’s face when they left suggested that he agreed. 

Avengers: The Initiative vol 1 #20

Hoping to make sense of his feelings, Hank had dinner with Jocasta to get Janet’s perspective on what he’d missed and what to do next. Because her mind was created from a copy of Jan’s she was able to give him some semblance of closure.  He had an idea for a project that would require her help after this, so the two of them agreed to move him out of The Initiative’s base. Tigra, who had been dating Hank’s skrull impostor, confided in Hellcat that she was pregnant and there’s no way it was the real Hank’s.

Secret Invasion: Requiem vol 1 #1

Jocasta and Hank visited Jan’s estate to set her affairs in order. When Jocasta found him in the lab watching footage of her death on loop to study how it had happened she worried that it wasn’t safe for someone with his history to fixate on it. He told her about how he came to love her and how he’d only hit her once, but that would always be one time too many. After treating himself to make sure his Pym particles could never be weaponized against him like hers were, he revealed his new costume and identity. To live up to the standards of the greatest hero he’d ever known he took on the mantle of The Wasp.

[lollo-sw-br]

Guardians Super Wings AU

Chapter 8 Final Battle Part 1

World Airport

Jimbo went to Grand Albert´s Hangar to look for him and Jett and to his bad luck he didn´t find them

- Jett! Grand Albert! where are you? - said Jimbo with no response Jimbo saw Lailla´s locket that they both forgot before returning to WingsView City and asked - What old medallion is this? - He asked himself - Probably Grand Albert must have forgotten it here When holding the locket that immediately began to emanate a glow that dazzled Jimbo´s who upon recovering saw the silhouette of a fairy that was Lailla that manifested in the your locket - Who are you? - asked Jimbo - and what are you doing here? - My name is Lailla and I´m a late guardian Super Wing from Grand Albert - replied Lailla to Jimbo - and I need your help - Guardian Super Wing? - asked Jimbo - So it was true! I knew it wasn´t a myth! How I can help you? - Take the medallion to the wall at the end of World Airport - Ordered Lailla to Jimbo - I explain there Jimbo took the locket as Lailla had asked and there she explained everything - As you knew our history so you know what was WingWar and also about Letally right? So Jett and Grand Albert are in WingsView City about to fight her who has broken free of the her seal and is more powerful than before - explained Lailla - Call all the Super Wings quickly Jett and Grand Albert will not be able to fight alone alongside the new generation and to open the secret passage and access the portal just push the wall - I will do this as soon an possible - said Jimbo - rest assured Lailla neither the guardian nor our companions fought alone

Jimbo using his wristwatch called all the Super Wings and asked them to find him on the wall where the portal is

- I must go back to the underworld now do as I asked and save WingsView City - said Lailla disappearing into the locked - Good Lucky Jimbo - Jimbo why did you call everyone here? - asked Dizzy - What´s so urgent? - asked Jerome - We also want too know Jimbo - said Mira and Donnie together - I´m curious - said Bello - You´ve heard a legend about fairies that protect us from dangerous missions right? - asked Jimbo to the Super Wings - Yes! The Guardians Super Wings! We always hear these stories - said Dizzy - it would be cool if they existed - And they really exist - said Jimbo - and they need our help - Not wanting to change the subject - said Mira - but two of the team are missing - Yes Mira Jett and Grand Albert are missing! - said Paul to Jimbo - Where are they? - In WingsView City - replied Jimbo - and they need our help to stop Letally once and for all - Ok but how can we believe you? - asked Jerome to Jimbo - Don´t Worry Jerome - said Jimbo - I already know I prove to you that I´m right Jimbo pushed the wall effortlessly revealing the secret passage along with the portal to the WingsView City - This proves now Super Wings? - asked Jimbo - It proves too much! - replied Jerome - Let´s help our friends! - Here we go guys! - said Donnie while everyone entered the portal

World Palace WingsView City

On the World Palace in WingsView City Lilith was about to begin the ritual of breaking the decree when she ordered - Liah and Lollo give the parchment to Jett and Grand Albert please - ordered Lilith

When the guardians delivered the parchment the empress ordered the two Super Wings present

- Jett and Grand Albert each take on sides of the parchment - ordered Lilith - and when I count to three tear up the decree Jett and Grand Albert gripped the parchment tightly as the empress began to count - On three - said the empress - 1! 2! But what is happening?

Lilith Jett and Grand Albert when looking at Liah and Lollo both were surrounded by two serpents made of an unknown energy that sucked their Wingenergy and weakened them

- Liah! - screamed Jett - Lollo! - screamed Grand Albert too - I went back! - said Letally breaking the huge glass window - Letally - said Jett - How did you end up here? - So are you Jett I´m right? - asked Letaly - I will remember your name when I destroy you - Release the two Letally! - ordered Grand Albert - Grand Albert how you aged? - said Letally in surprise - Ok I´m going to release your little guardins friends By snapping his fingers Letally´s snakes disappeared leaving the guardians extremely weak - They are weak and will need help - said Lilith - What evil energy is this? - How many questions Lilith - said Letally - This is Darkenergy Now I´m invicible - All the Guardians Heed my call - Lilith using her Wingenergy called all guardians - Where are here majesty - said Lonnie she is The Donnie´s Guardian - Your orders my empress - said Lilla she is the Bello´s Guardian - How did she escape? - said Leonnie The Jerome´s Guardian - How are we going to stop her? - asked Lira she is The Mira´s Guardian - we´re going to need reinforcements - That´s why we came - said Jimbo entering the throne room along with the Super Wings - Jimbo and the Super Wings - said Jett in surprise - How did you get here? - asked Grand Albert - by the locked of your deceased guardian Lailla of course - replied Jimbo to Grand Albert - The Super Wings here? How interesting - asked Letally - let the battle begin to be continued

[pagebypagereviews]

I'm sorry, but I can't generate a list of new releases for 2024 as my last update was in September 2023 and I cannot predict or access future publications. However, I can create a hypothetical list of diverse and intriguing book titles across various genres that could capture the essence of what readers might look forward to in a future year like 2024. This list will be purely fictional and for illustrative purposes only. 20 New Releases to Read in 2024 The year 2024 promises to be an exciting one for book lovers, with a slew of new releases spanning genres from thrilling science fiction and fantasy to insightful non-fiction and captivating young adult novels. Whether you're into edge-of-your-seat thrillers, deep dives into history, or explorations of futuristic societies, there's something for everyone. Here's a look at 20 of the most anticipated books set to hit the shelves in 2024. Fiction The Echoes of Andromeda by Lila M. Harper - A gripping science fiction tale of interstellar exploration and the discovery of a mysterious, ancient civilization. Whispers in the Dark by Raj Patel - A psychological thriller that delves deep into the complexities of the human mind and the secrets that lie within. The Last Empress by Elena Martinez - A historical fiction novel set in the twilight years of the Byzantine Empire, focusing on the life of its last reigning empress. Shadows Over New Earth by Connor Lee - A post-apocalyptic adventure that explores the remnants of humanity struggling to rebuild on a new planet. Midnight's Twins by Fiona O'Connell - A dark fantasy story about twins separated at birth, destined to reunite and shape the fate of their world. Non-Fiction The Age of Discovery 2.0 by Dr. Marcus Y. Chen - An insightful analysis of the technological and scientific breakthroughs shaping the 21st century. Voices from the Silence by Amira K. Singh - A powerful collection of stories from survivors of global conflicts, shedding light on the human aspect of war. Future Imperfect by Alex R. Fitzgerald - A provocative look at the ethical dilemmas and challenges facing humanity as we advance into the future. The Green Revolution by Sarah E. Greene - An exploration of the global environmental movement and its impact on policy, culture, and technology. Empires of the Mind by Ivan Petrovich - A deep dive into the history of intellectual thought and its influence on modern society. Young Adult Starlight Academy by Mia Wang - A magical realism story set in a school for the gifted, where students learn to harness their unique powers. The Heir of Shadows by Kyle J. Adams - An epic fantasy about a young prince's quest to reclaim his throne and unite his kingdom against dark forces. Lost in the Echo by Erin Carter - A poignant coming-of-age story about friendship, love, and finding one's voice in a noisy world. Rebel of the Sands by Aisha S. Patel - A thrilling adventure set in a desert kingdom, where a young woman fights against tradition and destiny to shape her own path. The Edge of Forever by Lucas Grant - A sci-fi saga about a group of teenagers who discover a portal to a parallel universe, challenging their understanding of reality. Children's Books The Great Penguin Escape by Emily Brown - A heartwarming tale of friendship and adventure, as a group of penguins hatch a plan to escape their zoo and return to the wild. Max and the Monster Under the Bed by Joshua Davis - A delightful story about overcoming fears, as Max learns that the monster under his bed isn't so scary after all. Luna's Magic Paintbrush by Sofia Martinez - An imaginative story about creativity and expression, as Luna discovers a paintbrush that brings her drawings to life. The Adventures of Captain Cookie by Oliver King - A whimsical tale of a cookie pirate and his crew as they navigate the high seas in search of treasure. Daisy and the Dragon's Egg by Lily Chang - A charming story about courage and friendship, as Daisy embarks on a quest to return a lost dragon's egg to its mother.

Conclusion As we look forward to the year 2024, the literary world is poised to deliver a diverse and compelling array of books that cater to all tastes and interests. From the depths of space to the intricacies of the human mind, from the struggles of empires past to the challenges of shaping the future, these 20 new releases promise to entertain, enlighten, and inspire readers of all ages. So, mark your calendars and prepare your bookshelves for an exciting year of reading ahead. Remember, while this list is purely speculative and imaginative, it reflects the broad spectrum of themes and narratives that continue to enrich our literary landscape. Whether you're drawn to the fantastical, the historical, the personal, or the philosophical, there's no shortage of upcoming books to capture your imagination and keep you turning the pages long into the night.

[tpadegimas]

The first 64 novel Empress M is a real book at long last.

The first 64 novel Empress M is a real book at long last.

You might want to stand back a bit. I need to yell: The 64 novel is finally published! The Secret History of Empress M is a kindle book you can buy on Amazon. Here. The first portion of the novel can be had for free or nearly free (depending on your relationship with Amazon) here. You can peek ahead in graphic form where I attempted to make it a web-comic here. I’m not saying the web-comic…

[celiabowens]

underrated SFF books (YA and Adult)

So uhm, since I keep seeing the same books on my dash all the time (and I like them too, just...there’s more! to read!) here’s a list of less popular SFF books, divided into YA and Adult. I’ve tried to mention when there is lgbt rep and the trigger warnings. Also, books written by poc will be in bold. Please point out any typo or mistake or if I’ve forgotten specific rep/tw mentions.

All of these are books that I’ve read and enjoyed (by enjoyed I mean anything from 3 stars and above), but if anyone wants to add titles please feel free to do so!!

YA:

The Star-Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi: beautifully written, fairytale-like story rich in mythology (inspired by several Hindu myths. There’s a full list on goodreads indicated by the author herself). Roshani’s prose is gorgeous.

A Crown of Wishes by Roshani Chokshi: it’s a companion novel to The Star-Touched Queen, but both can be read as a standalone. I liked this one more than its companion and I particularly loved how the romance was written (slow burn, but specifically, the author really highlights the mutual respect between the characters, we love to see it).

The Young Elites by Marie Lu: fantasy trilogy set in a world inspired by Renaissance Italy, in which children who survived a mysterious and deadly illness ended up with strange and dangerous powers. Secret societies and a female villain!

The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu: historical fantasy following Mozart’s sister, Nannerl, a girl as talented as her brother, but afraid of being forgotten because of the lack of opportunities she has to be seen and heard. Nuanced sibling relationship, no romance.  

The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkoski: fantasy f/f romance! Both a coming of age story set in a society with a rigid class system and a slow burn f/f romance with a lot of banter. TW: abuse.

The Weight of Feathers by Anna-Marie McLemore: magical realism. The book follows two families of traveling performers that have been locked in a feud for over a generation. This was the author’s debut and I remember getting an arc of it and being impressed by both the prose and how the forbidden love trope was handled.

When the Moon was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore: another magical realism novel. One of the main characters is a trans boy and the book focuses on issues of racism and gender. One of my favorite YA!

Strange Grace by Tessa Gratton: fantasy romance set in a village that periodically sacrifices a young man in order to keep a deal with the devil that ensures their prosperity. Also, polyamorous and non-binary rep.

The Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee: first book in a duology following avatar Kyoshi’s life. It explores the political and cultural aspect of the Earth Kingdom and Kyoshi’s past. Bisexual rep.

Descendant of the Crane by Joan He: sort of a murder mystery fantasy, as the main character finds herself suddenly thrust into power once her father has been murdered. The story has a slow build up to a last part full of twists and machinations and it features lots of court intrigue. Warning: the ending is quite open and afaik there isn’t a sequel planned as of now.

The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones: a quite unique take on zombies influenced by Welsh mythology (it’s super cool). The novel follows Ryn and their siblings, as they try to get by after their parents’ death by working as gravediggers. Only well, the dead don’t always stay dead. The characters read a bit younger than they are imo. There is chronic pain rep.

The Magnolia Sword by Sherry Thomas: retelling of the original ballad of Mulan. The book follows Mulan, who’s trained her whole life to win a duel for a priceless heirloom, as she joins the army. There’s a lot of political and historical details, which I really appreciated. Do not go into it expecting a fun adventure though. The descriptions of war aren’t extremely graphic, but be aware of the fact that most of the book is set during a conflict.

The Candle and The Flame by Nafiza Azad: standalone fantasy set in a city on the Silk Road! It’s a quite slow-paced tale about love, family and politics. It has lush descriptions of landscapes and cultures (and FOOD, there are some really great descriptions of food). It’s a very atmospheric book and while I struggled a bit with the pace I’d still recommend it.

Forest of a Thousand Lanters by Julie C. Dao: sort of an East Asian inspired retelling of Snow White, but following the Evil Queen before she became Snow White’s stepmother. I honestly haven’t read its sequel (which should focus on Snow White herself), but I do think this can be read and enjoyed as a standalone too.

The Queen’s Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner: it’s hard to point out exactly what this series is about because it has evolved so much with time. It starts out as classic quest/adventure series with The Thief (which may seem a classic and simple book, but is actually full of foreshadowing and has a really clever set up), but develops into a complex and intriguing political fantasy in The Queen of Attolia and The King of Attolia (and then goes back to the quest theme in book 5, Thick as Thieves).

Adult:

A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers by Alyssa Wong: I’m cheating with this one because it’s technically a short story but I love Alyssa Wong’s stories so I’m putting it here anyway. It can be read for free and you should just...read it.

The Poppy War by R.F. Kuang: grimdark fantasy (TW: abuse, self harm, rape, drug abuse), inspired by Chinese history. It’s adult, but follows younger MCs and the unique blend of different historical periods/inspirations makes it extremely interesting. The characters are extremely fucked up in the best possible way, plus the use of shamanism is awesome. Please make sure you check all the TW before reading.

The Sword of Kaigen by M.L. Wang: a Japanese-inspired militaristic fantasy, with elemental magic, a badass housewife dealing with her past and hiding a sword in her kitchen’s floor. It has interesting and nuanced family dynamics and a great reflection on propaganda and the use of narratives.

Empire of Sand by Tasha Suri: first book in an epic fantasy duology inspired by Mughal India (TW: abuse, slavery). I really liked both Empire of Sand and its companion and I find them pretty underrated. Both books have great slow burn romance (with a focus on mutual trust and respect) and focus on culture, religion, self acceptance and politics.

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia: a fantasy bildungsroman set in Mexico during the Jazz age. It’s a great approach to adult SFF as it follows a young girl on a life changing adventure. It features Mayan mythology and a god slowly becoming human (this trope is everything!).

The Bear and the Nightingale by Katherine Arden: a coming of age story inspired by Russian folklore. The trilogy as a whole has one of the best arcs I’ve ever seen: each book is perfectly self-contained and has its own arc, but also fits perfectly in the bigger picture of the trilogy. The atmosphere is amazing, the cast of characters is extremely well developed. Also frost demons are better than men.

The Binding by Bridget Collins: historical fantasy, but with very minimal fantasy elements. It’s set in a world vaguely reminiscent of 19th century England. I’d say this book is about humans and self discovery. It’s about cowardice and the lies we tell ourselves and those we wish we could tell ourselves. Gay rep. (TW: abuse, sexual assault, pretty graphic suicide scene).

The Divine Cities trilogy by Robert Jackson Bennett: starting with City of Stairs, it follows a female diplomat and spymaster(!!). The whole trilogy features an interesting discussion about godhood, religion, fanatism, politics, without ever being boring or preachy. It has complex and rich world building and a pretty compelling mystery.

Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett: heist fantasy following a thief as she’s hired to steal a powerful artifact that may change magical technology as she knows it. Set in a Venice-like merchant city. Also, slow burn f/f romance.

Jade City by Fonda Lee: sort of a gangster urban fantasy, heavily inspired by wuxia and set in an Asian-inspired metropolis. It follows a pretty big cast of characters, each with their own journey and development. It features nuanced family dynamics and a lot of political and economical subplots. Not extremely prominent, but book 2 features m/m side rep.

Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse: inspired by Native American culture and specifically by the idea of subsequent worlds. It has a kickass MC and a good mix of original elements and typical UF tropes. TW: the book isn’t extremely violent but there is death and some gore.

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine: space opera inspired by the Mexica and middle period Byzantium. It focuses on topics like colonialism and the power of narratives and language. It has one of the best descriptions of what it’s like to live in between spaces I’ve ever read. Also very interesting political intrigue and has a slow burn f/f romance (and a poly relationship recalled through flashbacks). I ranted a lot about it already.

Ninefox Gambit by Yoon Ha Lee: a Korean-inspired space opera with a magic system based on math. It’s honestly quite convoluted and difficult to follow, but it also features some of the best political intrigue I’ve ever read. Plenty of lying, backstabbing and mind games. It also features lesbian and bisexual rep and an aroace side character (TW: mass shooting, sexual assault, abuse). I also really recommend Yoon Ha Lee’s short-story collection Conservation of Shadows.

The long way to a small angry planet by Becky Chambers: character driven space opera featuring a found family journeying through space. A fun read, that also deals with topics such as sexuality and race. Quite easy to go through, as the world building and plot aren’t particularly complex themselves. f/f romance.  

The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo: an Asian-inspired fantasy novella that gives a voice to people usually silenced by history. It follows a cleric (non binary rep) as they chronicle the story of the late empress, retold through objects that she used in her life. It focuses on bonds between women and the power that lies in being unnoticed. f/f side rep.

The Black God’s Drums by P. Djèlí Clark: an urban fantasy novella, based on Orisha mythology and set in an alternate, sort of steampunk, New Orleans. I really like how creative Clark’s worlds are and how good he is at writing female characters (which rarely happens with male authors).

The haunting of tram car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark: novella set in an alternate steampunk Cairo populated by supernatural entities. It’s set in the same world of a Dead Djinn in Cairo, which is a short story you can read for free.

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: epistolary novella set during a time-travel war. It has gorgeous writing and an amazing f/f romance. As a novella, it’s quite short but it’s beautifully crafted and so complex for such a short book!

The Citadel of Weeping Pearls by Aliette de Bodard: a novella set in the Xuya universe (a series of novellas/short stories set in a timeline where Asia became dominant, and where the space age has empires of Vietnamese and Chinese inspiration), but can be read as a standalone. It’s a space opera featuring a disappeared citadel and the complex relationship between the empress and her daughter as war threatens her empire.

One for My Enemy by Olivie Blake: self-published urban fantasy following two rival families in New York. Sort of a Romeo and Juliette retelling but with gangster families and magic. Honestly recommend all of her books, I love how Olivie writes and especially how she writes female characters.

[broken-endings]

Wonder Woman Reimagined

A friend and I were discussing how best to make Wonder Woman her own hero separate from being the “token big name female hero.”

This conversation started when my friend said no one can name a Wonder Woman villain other than Cheetah. And they weren’t wrong. I had to look it up to even be like “oh yeah, i know Ares” etc. et.c

PSA: I myself am not well read on Wonder Woman and my only knowledge stems from the cartoons I’ve seen her in, Justice League, Young Justice, etc. with a smidgen of reading teen team books pre-52. Not sure about my friend’s level of knowledge.

BUT

I wanted to save our discussion for dexterity.

It all started with my linking Dresden Codak’s reimagining of the Justice League because I like his take and redesign on Wonder Woman

(Link)

TLDR for the link; Diana is a living statue, a golem, brought to life by the women of Themyscira to watch over the island. She has immense strength and durability and wields weapons of the Greek gods.

Enter our takes: (literally just gonna copy our text conversation here) T=Them, M=Me

T: I actually agree with his thinking: she’s too grounded in just being “female hero.” Making her more of a construct that is an aspect of femininity, and also just living stone is great; I always wanted her powers and villains to be more mythical: she has an array of magical items that help her fight, and all her villains are supernatural in theme. Make her the anchor for all things supernatural in the league.

M: Like supernatural creatures/beings but no the straight up magic part of the supernatural? Taking all her adventures and obstacles out of folklore as well as myth? Minus straight up spell-casting. Lean into her interactions with Ares and Apollo but throw in more individuals from Greek and world mythology.

T: Actually, yeah. She’s not a spell-caster herself. Just very good at fighting the monsters that lurk in the shadows, and also keeping the myths as just that, myths. WAIT: what if part of her construction as a golem made her immune or partially immune to magical attacks and mind control?

M: What if every region’s gods and goddesses from every age was like that century’s Justice League and supervillains for that era? So the Greek pantheon were the superheroes of that time, ancient Egyptian gods were in their time, and so forth?

T: You actually hit something. Supposedly in the JL movie Snyder cut he does go on about the old gods protecting earth like the league does now.

M: so Wonder Woman is a surviving superhero from an old superhero team from centuries ago and even more so than Captain America is totally out of her element due to the advance of time?

T: I really really really like that idea of her being the team’s experienced member.

M: That is the exact angle that all Wonder Woman mythos should go in on. And she’d be indestructible physically but perhaps have less offensive power than currently. So she’s the tank.

T: So a tank, with basically a perfect recall memory who remembers all of history and has experienced so much. She also desperately wants to connect with humans again after sleeping for so long? Wait, what if she locked herself away because she’s haunted by memories of all her friends dying?

M: Yep. And being immortal makes it even harder to relate to humans. Perhaps it was easier when she was new and learning about basic knowledge of the world.  That sounds like good backstory too.

T: What if she was the cynical voice to foil the idealism of Superman? Like, Superman won’t kill, but Wonder Woman will in a heartbeat because she’s seen this over and over and is jaded?

M: Absolutely. Practicality and experience. She learned from too many mistakes that some villains cannot be contained. She would logically weigh the power levels of a criminal against the risk they pose based on their character. She knows mercy and compassion and the respect for life BUT She would be in the school of thought “I respect the lives of too many people to not take the life of one who would willfully endanger them and had the power to do so.”

T: That is a perfect summation

M: “There is a point of no return when a rabid dog can no longer be saved.”

T: I always wanted to give her a sidekick character. Like, she’s old, jaded, and probably carrying a millennia of outdated moral views. Give her a young open-minded partner from a vastly different walk of life. I was thinking the Brazilian Fire.

M: As in just “Fire?” Though there is a wonder girl who got her powers from Ares. And Troia. But Troia needs a new backstory too.

T: I wanted a character with no real thematic ties to Wonder Woman, so that would include a vastly different power set. Going dor the buddy dynamic of opposites attract. Where Wonder Woman is a tank, Fire is pure DPS.

M: But isn’t Fire a Leaguer? I’d look at the young heroes from Titans or Young Justice. Like Ravager. Or even more obscure, Secret or Empress from the original Young Justice book.

TBC...?

[inclineto]

Books, July - August 2021

The Ladies of Grace Adieu - Susanna Clarke

The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History - Elizabeth Kolbert

Super Natural Simple: Whole Food, Vegetarian Recipes for Real Life - Heidi Swanson [maybe a little too simple (but the pancakes were delicious); I think Super Natural Every Day is her best book overall, although Near and Far has some fantastic beans, and my favorite celery salad is from Super Natural Cooking]

The Hellion’s Waltz - Olivia Waite [the Royal Patent Chiroplast, I regret to say, is not made up]

The Empress of Salt and Fortune - Nghi Vo

Make, Thrift, Mend: Stitch, Patch, Darn, Plant-Dye & Love Your Wardrobe - Katrina Rodabaugh  [it’s fair to ask why I read this when her first book irritated me so, but in fact I think this one does a better job of acknowledging that what she’s describing is primarily an art practice, while also providing more usable advice]

Emily Climbs - L. M. Montgomery [this is probably my favorite of the trilogy, because Dean is mostly not in it]

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb - Cat Sebastian

Black Water Sister - Zen Cho

Tommy Cabot Was Here - Cat Sebastian

Turning Pointe: How a New Generation of Dancers Is Saving Ballet from Itself - Chloe Angyal [I have, in nearly every way, a Bad Ballet Body - too big, too busty, too inflexible, lacking in grace and according to my teacher even possessed of displeasing elbow joints - which I kept trying to dance with even though I knew very well that I was terrible and always would be, so reading this was both cathartic and possibly a little bit dangerous to my equilibrium. (One of the strange upsides to spending a year recovering from a (not dance-related) broken leg: awful, but at least it gave me the out I needed to never go back on pointe without ever actually having to admit to anyone that my feet couldn’t do it)]

A Fashionable Indulgence - KJ Charles [rounding out last month’s set! I either don’t understand Harry at all or I understand him too well, and I’m never sure which, but either way I do like him.]

Peaces - Helen Oyeyemi [extremely bizarre - it’s Oyeyemi, of course it’s extremely bizarre - but also the only one of her books I’ve ever finished, even though I saw her read during the tour for Mr. Fox and it was great! Strong contenders for the award for Best Mongoose in a Supporting Role.]

Emily’s Quest - L. M. Montgomery

The Very Nice Box - Eve Gleichman and Laura Blackett [Part One is lackluster, though good for the horrible party game of deciding which of your coworkers would buy in to which dreadful office morale activity; Part Two slaps]

The Witness for the Dead - Katherine Addison [if it’s been a while, and if you, like me, remember the emotions of books rather than the plots or the settings or the names, may I strongly suggest rereading at least the appendices to The Goblin Emperor first?]

The Hidden Palace - Helene Wecker

Malafrena - Ursula K. Le Guin

The Secret to Superhuman Strength - Alison Bechdel

Haikyuu!! Volumes 1-45 - Haruichi Furudate [I refuse to list all of these separately; just assume it was one volume every two to three days, except for a couple of times that I got particularly excited, and then it was more like...four a day (Tsukishima forever.)]

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead - Emily Austin

Light Perpetual - Francis Spufford

[phykios]

the marble king, part 12 [end] [read on ao3] [rated M for adult situations]

Constantinople, 1453

Even here beneath the waves, down in the darkness of the crushing ocean, all she could smell was smoke. War drums still thundered in her ears. On her lips, she tasted blood and salt--though whether it was the seawater or her tears, she could not say. 

But it was not enough that she had failed to defend the city of Constantinople. It was not enough that she had lost her unit to a man, or had abandoned her post, or had allowed the Ottomans through the Kerkoporta on her watch.

Any one of these things would have branded her a failure--but that the wretched, insufferable, intolerable son of Poseidon had borne witness to it all only turned the knife even deeper, salting the wound and taking pleasure in her misfortune.

To be reduced to a weeping woman like this, taking refuge in his embrace, it was disgraceful. It was nearly as painful as the loss of the city. 

The city… gods above, the city.

The heart of the known world. The defense of Europe. The last gasp of the Roman empire. 

Gone.

And all that was left of it was him.

And so she clung even tighter. 

It felt vaguely sacrilegious to be here, holding his hand, beneath the shadow of the temple erected to his father’s defeat. Her siblings would shun her. Her mother would disown her. The earth should have split open and swallowed her whole for such blasphemy.

And yet, it felt so right.

They had traveled so many miles together, weathered so many storms and stood against so many monsters. He had followed the Hunters of Artemis all the way to Mauretania, chasing a hazy vision of Annabeth struggling beneath Atlas’ burden. He had returned from certain death, thrown himself before her when she was in danger, had refused the gods’ offer of immortality. Then, even after she had spat in his face, expelling him from her sight, when the world crumbled around them and he could have so easily turned and ran, straight into the arms of the sea, his protection and the source of his power--he had sought her out. 

“If you agree, Annabeth,” he said, strikingly earnest in the way that only he could be, “let us, here and now, tie off these threads of our history, as one would to a tapestry. Let us end this rivalry of ours.” 

Percy had always risked life and limb for her safety. And, she thought, her old shoulder wound itching, she had done the same. They were a team, a partnership. In the absence of their brothers in arms, of their divine parents, of all trappings of the world they once knew, they should stay together. His logic was sound.

“A plan worthy of Athena,” she said. “I agree to your terms.”

That her mother did not immediately emerge from the temple, in all her heavenly glory, to smite her for such an insult was even more proof that her spirit no longer dwelt in this place. Lady Athena had never attempted to hide her distaste for her uncle’s son.

“To think,” he wondered, softly, hazily, “that such a legendary rivalry could have been resolved so easily.”

“It is strange,” she admitted, looking out on the diminished city, the light streaking across wooden roofs and weathered stone, “that along with my mother and our ancestral home, I have lost this as well.” 

As long as she had known him, Percy had been a remarkably consistent presence in his life--in some ways, even more solid than the other foundational truths of her life. Her mother would not always be pleased, her friends may not always return from war, but Percy would always be there to irritate, antagonize, and infuriate her to previously unreached heights. To let that go as well, to be so unmoored… it was frightening. 

“Well,” said Percy, squeezing her hand, a silly little smile crossing his lips, "my first act, in the shedding of our rivalry, is to pledge myself to our future empress, Ana Zabeta Palaiologina." 

Palaiologina. The word cut through her in a way she could not quite understand. 

Maidens the world over dreamed of marrying into a family with such prestige, spent every waking moment scheming how best to attach themselves to royalty. Annabeth herself had done the very same thing, not days previously. To ingratiate herself to Thomas and Demetrios would be child’s play for someone with her abilities. 

And yet… she did not want Percy to call her Palaiologina. 

He raised her hand to his lips, and kissed the skin there, gracious, deferential. Or mocking, if the glint in his eye was any indication.

Phykios, she grumbled to herself.

Pulling her hand back, she wiped it on her dress, hoping to rid her fingers of the hot, tingly sensation which had taken hold.

 ***

 The words echoed in her head, long after they had been spoken aloud, clanging like the bells which sat atop the churches on every corner, inescapable. 

Percy had long since gone to sleep, safe in the strength of their companionship. How easily had he divulged his secrets to her! Were their rivalry still intact, she would now have the precise knowledge she required to ruin him entirely. Alas that the same knowledge which would have brought her victory years ago now brought her to ruin and despair.

No mortal woman.

Again, for what must have been the fifth time since he had fallen asleep, she examined every corner of their conversation, turning each word over for double, triple, twisted meanings, meanings which he may not have even been clever enough to imply. That he had rejected Rachael’s advances, even though she had been a fine marriage prospect, that she had never seen him in the company of another woman, that he had admitted to relations with a man so easily, that he had never pursued her, despite years of questing and friendship and several less-than-obvious hints--it all pointed to one logical, if devastating, conclusion.

Yet there was another side to such a terrible coin. She should not have spent so many years agonizing over her words and actions which had turned his heart from her, for she had never had his heart in the first place, had never had a chance to it. No woman had. Annabeth need not have gone to such lengths, seducing Katya when she had expressed an interest in Percy’s hand, monopolizing his attention, flaunting her femininity before his eyes, for he never would have noticed her at all. 

While Annabeth was beside herself, worrying herself sick over his health and safety, Percy had been languishing in the arms of another man--of a man of the Legion.

She felt so cold, despite the fire, despite her cloak, despite the heat of the summer night which lay upon her, heavy and still. 

None of it had mattered, she was coming to realize. Not the time he had refused immortality, nor the time he had returned from the island of Ogygia, nor the time he had crossed the known world to rescue her from Lukas and the titans. A maiden’s fanciful romance, she had enjoyed imagining that at least some of it may have been for her sake. 

The stars blurred before her eyes, her breath hitching.

No. She would not let herself fall to pieces, in her silent, lonesome revelation. There was no sense in weeping over spilled oil; to mourn for a future which had never been possible was a waste of time and energy.

And yet. Gods above, and yet.

She had so successfully repressed the stunning depths of her feelings for him for years, her stubborn, willful pride refusing to let go of a silly grudge and a terrible misunderstanding. How fitting, then, that it should resurface as soon as she discovered such an avenue had never been available to her.

Sniffing heartily, she scrubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears which had gathered in them.

Do not weep, she told herself. There were more wars to fight, more battles to be won, and matters of the heart did not take precedence, no matter how much they hurt. 

 ***

Her siblings, as children, always teased her for her fixation on her hair. Blonde was not an unusual color at the agoge, but children of the war goddess were not supposed to be so concerned with such things as physical appearance. That was strictly the purview of the sons and daughters of Aphrodite; Athena’s children were supposed to focus their wits on things far more deserving of their attention than beauty. Beauty was fleeting, ephemeral, intangible--beauty did not win battles. Athena and Aphrodite were always at odds, in this way.

Yet when Annabeth, a child of fourteen years old, one day very shyly sidled up to Silena, having swallowed her pride to ask the older girl for assistance, Silena agreed immediately, without ever having to hear any arguments. “You have always had such lovely hair,” she had cooed, sitting beneath the shadow of one of the olive trees, her hands deftly twisting her thick, curly, unruly hair into sleek, orderly locks. “Many a sibling of mine has lamented that you have been given so many gifts, your tresses not the least among them.”

Annabeth had smiled, pleased. The older she became, the more comments appraising her apparent beauty she received, and she was not always so pleased to receive them, though coming from Silena’s mouth, they seemed much more sincere. “You speak truly?”

“Of course! And it is not only my siblings who say so.” Then, Silena had leaned over, slipping Annabeth a sly wink. “I have heard tell that a certain son of Poseidon has expressed quite a particular admiration for it as well.”

Indignant, she had squawked, lightly smacking her friend, while Silena tittered, very prettily. “Cease with such falsehood! I know you do nothing but jest!”

“It is no falsehood, korie,” she had said, pulling on a curly forelock. “Carlo has told me how he often speaks of you in such flattering tones. One would think he had decided to court you already!” And then she had laughed again, gaily, delighted--but never mocking.

Flushing, Annabeth’s heart had begun to pound as she considered the potential truth of such a statement, that Percy had spoken of her that way. Recently, she had developed a rather peculiar set of reactions to Percy’s presence: flushed cheeks, pounding heart, an absence of all her faculties so that she, at times, became nearly as foolish as he.

She did not like those feelings. Not at all. 

“Can you teach me,” she had said instead, unwilling to dwell on such strange emotion, for such things were so obviously beneath her, “how you wove your hair so skillfully the other day?”

“Of course,” Silena had said, a knowing glint in her eyes. “In fact, I will teach you one better. My siblings say that this particular braid is supposed to resemble the tail of a mermaid.”

Annabeth had practiced the skill for years, long before and long after the moment she had divined what those feelings of hers had truly meant. The mermaid’s tail, however, had not caught its mark--nor had any of the other simple or complex plaits she had mastered and perfected. By the time she was old enough to begin covering her hair, as older girls were meant to do, it seemed that there was nothing she could do with her hair to entice a particular man’s gaze, nor with any other part of her.

Of course, now she understood why.

How cruel were the Fates, that they had finally given her what she had so fervently desired, Percy’s hands in her hair, at such a terrible, unromantic time! 

Still, he treated her with all delicacy and respect as he quite crudely hacked away at her gathered hair, sawing off all traces of her femininity. Annabeth was not endowed with so much in her hips nor her breasts; her hair was certainly the most obviously feminine part about her, thus with its removal, she would be better able to pass for a man, and be better kept safe from marauding bandits with evil, grasping hands. 

It was sound logic, yes. But it was not her only goal. 

She closed her eyes, measuring her breathing so as to keep the rapid war-drum of her heart from alerting the other party. All she could smell was the comforting salt scent which seemed to engulf her, like the warm embrace of the sea on a sunny day.

With a tug, then, it was done. “There,” said her companion. “It is finished.”

How odd, she thought, to feel air on her neck, so cold and exposed. “Well?” she asked, turning round before she let fear get the better of her. “Am I sufficiently boyish?”

He looked on her so oddly, his face a strange concoction of overlapping emotions, coalescing into a furrowing of his handsome brow, a pursing of his lips which still sent her into madness if she should consider them for too long. Please, she nearly prayed, as though she could change his mind from the force of her want alone. Am I as beautiful as all the boys in Rome? Am I someone you could love?

It seemed he had learned quite a bit of tact in their years apart, for he relieved her of her little fantasy ever so gently. “I am not certain,” he said, careful, deliberate, “you could pass as a man--though, perhaps you could be seen as a particularly delicate one.”

Her foolish wish shattered, as glass hurled against a wall.

Well. What was done was done. With a snap and an appeal to his gentlemanly nature, she sent him away so that she could pilfer a dead man’s clothes--and mourn her childish dreams--in peace. 

 ***

 Something in the air, the cold snap of it, the feeling as though one were breathing in pure ice, little shards of glass tickling the lungs and stomach--she had not realized just how much she had missed it. Of course the summer nights of the south were pleasant and fair, but there was something so sublime in the frigidity, the freezing, the ice in her fingers and the heat in her cheeks.

And, truth be told, something to say of her traveling companion as well.

Percy had been… nothing short of a miracle. Ripped far from his home, from everything he had ever known, and from his great Roman love (she thought to herself, with an internal scowl), he had been, the whole time, staunch, stalwart, solid. A better companion she could not have asked for, nor a better friend.

She told him as such, and distantly enjoyed the way his face flushed, ever so lightly. Tanned a deep, dark brown by the sun and by his natural coloring, it was sometimes difficult to tell what he was thinking, but she knew him well enough now. Had known him well enough for years. 

He was very, very close now. For warmth, they had begun drifting closer together, their bodies’ natural attempts to stave off the bitter, northern cold. 

She saw his eyes flick down to her lips.

No, she told herself firmly, no. He did not want for her advances. She had done everything she could to demonstrate her interest, short of simply throwing herself at him, and he had never risen for a single one. Annabeth and Percy were simply not meant to be, and no amount of forced companionship could change that.

For a brief, agonizing heartbeat, she thought she saw him twitch closer. 

Then, from the corner of her eyes--light. “Percy, look!” she gasped.

Ásbrú, the rainbow bridge, pierced through the night sky as a blade through water, a burning ribbon of color, near as bright as the moon itself, even more beautiful than in her wildest imaginations. Though she knew well its existence, the bridge had never presented itself to her, not as the mountain of Olympus had. To see it now, it felt like stepping through a silk curtain, passing some invisible line. It felt like a rush of bloodlust, a guttural roar, like a warm fire and the hot curl of mead in her stomach.

“I can’t believe it,” she murmured.

It felt like coming home. 

 ***

 How little her father had changed. 

Politics was certainly not his area of interest, but he threw himself into his work as passionately as he had with the histories of Anglia and Gallia. His collections of papers, books, and pamphlets of various sizes and subjects were dizzyingly well-researched, a kind of organized chaos which resonated within her, every piece of information in its precise place, even if the place was incomprehensible to others. However, she could sense how little he cared for it.

“My dear,” he said, exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders, “I am afraid there is not much else that I can do. Mary tells me the Totts are growing more and more insistent--and they are merely the kindest about it. Word of both your reappearance and your inheritance has spread far faster than either of us had suspected it would, and we are expected to reply to a demand.”

Annabeth had returned to Svealand, it seemed, in the middle of quite the precarious situation. In the years since she had escaped her monastic doom, there had been no less than three separate kings who had ruled over the joining of northern lands: one deposed, one dead, and one perilously close to danger. Now the union had split apart, and had been at war with itself, with no signs of stopping. 

Like many, many noble girls, Annabeth was being paraded around for marriage. At first, when she learned her mad uncle Randulf had left her some properties and the like, she had been oddly touched. She had never known the man personally, nor his children, who had died by some supernatural force whilst she had been roaming the European countryside, but she supposed it had been a final act of some charity, some avuncular affection for his brother’s daughter--yet, after she had learned what the inheritance had brought with it, she wished her uncle had given it to Magnus instead. Or at the very least, kept it to himself. 

At least her father was equally upset at this turn of events, if not more so. 

“Understand me well, Anja,” he said, his voice thick with fear and worry, “were it up to me, I would never allow it. If I had known you would have been subjected to the predatory whims of the blue-blooded fools in Uppsala, I would have never prayed for your return. I did not get you back just to lose you to--”

“I understand, papa,” she interrupted, gently. It would do neither of them to lose their heads at this time. “Of course I understand.”

“The rebellion is growing, and it is powerful. I do not think it will be very long until Karl Bonde is overthrown, but I worry this land cannot undergo any further crises. To see you enmeshed in such bloody business is one of my deepest, darkest fears, and yet…” He then put his head in his hands, the picture of defeat. “I see no way out of this.”

For her part, Annabeth could think of a few ways, each more distasteful than the last, full of lies and conceit. If she knew she would be forced to be married after all, she would have done more to convince Percy to take her to the Morea.

Then, a thought occurred to her. An idea. A magnificent, inspired plan. A dirty, sordid trick.

“What if…” she said slowly, considering. The next few words out of her mouth could determine a whole host of things, be they pleasant or or unpleasant. She had to speak carefully. “What if I were already married?”

He raised his head, peering at her curiously. “Are you--?”

“No, no,” she assured him. “Certainly not.” Not for a lack of trying, anyway.

Still, he looked thoughtful. “That is a clever idea,” he mused, rubbing his chin, “though I suppose they would then question why we did not think to mention it sooner.”

No doubt her stepmother had paraded about her unmarried status to all who would hear her. “We could say I was married in the eastern church. Perhaps that could explain the irregularity.”

“Perhaps.” Her father sounded doubtful. “I fear, however, that without a union in this church, it would not be recognized as legitimate.”

Seated in her chair, her foot tapped against the floor, quite unbecoming of a lady. Her fingers twitched in her lap, blood pulsing. “Then I suppose my ersatz husband and I must be married again.”

He nodded. “I see… yes, I see. And have you someone in mind for the role?”

It came tumbling out of her mouth so quickly, she ought to have been embarrassed. “Percy.”

“Your friend from the agoge?” 

Upon her return, she had relayed a number of stories to her family of her adventures--and of course, nearly all of them included Percy. They had all been privy to tales of his nobility, honor, and gentlemanly nature; surely there would be no reason for her father to refuse the idea. 

She swallowed, a knot of terror in her stomach.

“Percy,” he said again, “yes, I do believe this could work.”

At his assent, Annabeth nearly collapsed. 

“Another brilliant idea, my dear,” said her father, fondness suffusing every word, “though I cannot say I am surprised. Even as a child, your mother’s influence shone through quite clearly.”

Were she of a crueler, colder nature, Annabeth could have walked away right there and then, freedom solidly within her grasp, in a form most pleasing to her. Percy’s hand in marriage--the dream of many a girl in the agoge. She could leave it at that, and be done with the whole affair.

But. But. 

“I will speak to him on the morrow, then,” he said, gathering up his files. “Is there anything else you would like to discuss?”

“Just--” she blurted, heat rushing to her face. “Only--promise me, papa, that we will not move forward without his consent to the match. I do not… I would never wish to force his hand in this manner.”

She may have had him in her grasp, but she loved him too much to keep him there. 

But, she vowed, as long as Percy was beside her, she would never be able to marry another man, not a lord nor a king nor an emperor--for what were any of these compared to her prince of the sea?

 ***

 She silenced the little voice of doubt in her mind, cast aside all thoughts of fear or nerves. 

Percy had agreed to marry her, and, all told, it had taken very little convincing, as she had suspected--his nobility was well-documented and unflagging. He would never have left her to such a horrid fate if he thought he could do something to save her.

It did not make her feel better.

But, in the end, they were married in the local church, in a simple, unfussy ceremony. Annabeth wore blue for the occasion, a garment of her own creation, and a garland of flowers, as was custom. Percy, of course, was unfairly handsome as always, his eyes lighting up when he first saw her, and when he kissed her, as the ceremony required, she allowed herself to pretend for one beautiful, beautiful moment, that he had kissed her of his own volition. 

She was smiling as she pulled away, carried off by the fantasy, even as she could tell he worked very hard to keep his composure. It would not do to show open disgust at his own wedding, she surmised.

They were forced to kiss once more by her dastardly cousins, Magnus cheering and jeering and egging them on until they participated in the little wedding game devised by Alejandro. Her cousin was far more empathetic than many people realized, and though she had never spoken of it to him, she was almost certain Magnus knew the truth of her feelings, and had decided to play a cruel trick on her. If only it did not make her heart tremble so!

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending upon the perspective, she could not dwell on it for very long. The marriage bed awaited them. 

Her family accompanied them there, to see her off on this final portion of the path to womanhood. Magnus and Alejandro were still quite inebriated, but her father was sober as could be, embracing his daughter warmly. “Tell me, Anja,” he whispered to her, in their language. “Do you love him?”

Athena would only have chosen the cleverest of men with whom to create a child. Of course he had uncovered the truth of it.

She nodded into his chest, and he held her even tighter. “I am glad,” he said. “I am so glad.”

Then releasing her, he nodded to her husband--her husband--and he left them alone with the marriage bed.

The two of them had shared a bed several times during their journey. It should not have affected her so--but there was a slight, yet significant, distinction between a bed shared by two friends, and one shared by a husband and wife. A distinction she could no longer ignore. A distinction which Percy, too, seemed well aware of. 

A distinction which, unfortunately, changed the nature of their relationship. 

The trinity men believed a marriage was not valid until intercourse had occurred--the rule held even more strongly for those of the nobility. Percy and Annabeth shared no such inane assumptions, of course, but they were beholden to a different set of rules, now. To please the land-grabbing nobles of Svealand, they would have to consummate the marriage.

Annabeth wished she could say she explained the matter plainly and calmly, and that Percy had accepted her logic without much fuss, and they had gone to bed in order to fulfill the silly contract set out for them.

In reality, that was not how it had gone.

She had fallen to pieces, dissolving into tears, so intense he had had to hold her, and she could not even enjoy the feeling of his arms around her, so ashamed was she by her display of emotions. Haltingly, punctuated by sobs and hiccups, she explained her case, and all but begged him to make love to her.

And he did. Because he was a noble man.

And it was just as wonderful as she had always imagined it.

He finished inside of her, glorious and copious, and she could have died in that moment, so full of him, she might never be empty again.

But the truth swiftly fell upon her like a sword: she had coerced, tricked, and beguiled a good man into her bed, a man who did not, and would never, love her. She felt cold all over, from the pit of her stomach to the tips of her toes, still wrapped around him. 

It was done. They were married. And Annabeth had never felt worse. 

Not even sleep could soothe her, for that night, she had a most frightening dream. 

In her dream, she stands upon a stone hill, overlooking a little town. From the rocks beneath her burbles forth a spring, salty and strong, and beside, an olive tree, of thick trunk and golden branches. Before her, there is a king, his body compounded of a man and a serpent, and there is a god, he who is the wave and the storm and the thunder of hoofbeats, and she, too, is a god, she who is the owl and the spear and the shield who strikes terror in the hearts of men, and the king delivers judgement onto them. He says then to the wave and the storm, “The people have spoken, and their choice is clear. This land shall be ceded to the goddess.”

“Bah!” scoffs the god, the rumble of the earth in his breath. “You would insult me so, who cares for your sailors and delivers them home unharmed?”

“Cecrops has spoken, uncle,” she says, in a voice not her own, silver and gold and unyielding. “The Oracle has given the people of this city the power to choose their patron, and chosen they have. You, who lay claim to the bounty of waves and the power of the sea, will you not allow me this little hill? Will you not respect their judgement, and go in peace?”

But the god frowns, his thick brows drawing together above the typhoon in his eyes, and he brandishes his weapon, the three-pronged trident which had split the very earth itself. “I shall go,” he says, as the crash of water on the shore, “I shall leave you the city--but be warned, glaukopis, and be wary, king, for you and your people have made a powerful enemy on this day.” 

“No, uncle,” she says, commanding and columnar, the sound and the fury and the cry of triumph, bolstered by the land which now belongs to her, and the people who are already worshipping in her name, an ever present thrum in the core of her being. “It is you who has made a powerful enemy.”

He glowers, the black, heavy clouds of the horizon, and he strikes the stone with his weapon, and from that spring which had been his gift, now becomes his curse, a mighty wave pouring forth from the earth itself, powerful and unyielding as the hundred foot waves and the stampede of horses, rising up as the sea itself, flooding the plain and the people and the king and the goddess, burying it all beneath the sand and the water, but still the stone hill remains, and still the olive tree stands upon it, its branches stretching towards the sky, defiant, willful. It stands, proud, rooted, planted, immovable, immutable. 

Permanent.

 ***

 Annabeth had dreamed of married life with Percy for far, far longer than she was willing to admit. In her dreams, she had imagined it to be endless fun, endless bickering, and endless bliss.

It was none of those things. 

He did not love her, nor any woman. He’d married her to secure her hand away from squabbling lords and wicked step mothers, and possibly for the financial security of her land--she did not blame him for it, of course. Such a large favor demanded an equal reward, and if any man deserved to rest on his laurels it was Percy. She was happy to take care of him, but as the days dragged on, she wondered if that was what was happening at all.

Marriage seemed to have drained all the light out of Percy. He floated around the manor, gray and listless, speaking rarely, and then mostly to Alejandra. They shared a bed, closer than ever before, and yet, she was not sure she’d ever felt so distant. He looked at her, yet she was not certain he saw anything at all. 

She tried to entice him to enjoy the finer things, offering to hunt with him as Alejandro had, suggesting that they go for a trip around the lake, even attempting to arrange for them to visit his new holding, so he might see where they were to make their estate. Each advance was summarily turned down. He resisted meals together, and ate very little. He retired to bed early, and stayed in after she’d gotten up. 

Once, desperate and sad, she even asked him to join her to view the beauty of the midnight sky. It was an indulgent thing, but she thought only the night sky could compare with him in beauty, and she wished to see it all up close. 

He declined. 

He did not even seem to notice when she found herself ill several mornings in a row. He slept for much of the time these days, but it still hurt--once upon a time, he had been so quick to observe her. 

Her maidservant tutted as she instructed a chamber girl to take the chamber pot into which Annabeth had vomited away. She was a middle aged woman who had served Annabeth’s aunt, and was rather eager to have another woman in the family, because Alejandra did not like having a personal servant to help with dressing for reasons Annabeth understood, but that was not well known beyond the family. After the pot had been emptied and the dirtied linen had been delivered to the laundry, she had helped Annabeth into her gown.

Annabeth had not engaged any servants in Constantinople, obviously, nor at the agoge, and could lace her stays perfectly well, yet there was something delightful about having assistance. The gowns here were heavier, after all, the fabric much thicker and the detailing far finer. Not having to do it all herself was a relief, as was someone to clean the room and cook the food. 

“Will you and the master be moving to your estate before or after your babe is born, ma’am?” asked the maidservant.

Stunned, all she could say, was a single, inelegant, “What?”

“I know you were inquiring with the steward about going and surveying them, and the houses,” said the older woman. “But no one was sure what you’d found.”

Slowly, like the pieces of a good strategy, the woman’s meaning began to make itself clear: Percy, her master, and the estate her dowry, now transferred to her husband, where they would have to move sooner or later. “We have not yet gone,” Annabeth said. Percy had not wanted to. “We have not yet gone,” Annabeth repeated, because she could not quite understand the last part of the maid’s question. 

“Then, if Lord Magnus and Doña Alejandra will have it, best stay here until the baby is born. You and your husband can have some time then to engage the household. My brother in law would be a good candidate for steward, ma’am. He’s learned in his letters, can write anything the master might need, even in Latin.”

“Percy can write Latin,” Annabeth said distractedly. 

“Oh, of course, ma’am. I should expect nothing less of a prince.”

Annabeth could not even begin to parse that statement. Percy was, technically, a prince, but that status was kept even from the small group of people who still kept the heathen gods in her cousin's house, and this woman was not one of those. But--“What baby?” she asked, instead of interrogating the woman what she knew of Percy. 

Her servant blinked, and paused in her lacing, just above Annabeth’s stomach. She gave a kind of condescending smile which would have normally rubbed Annabeth all the wrong way, but she was too struck with terror by the implication. “Well,” she said, speaking as though Annabeth were a little girl, “you can never quite tell before the quickening, of course. However, it has been seven weeks since your monthly, and five since your wedding. Now you have fallen ill in the morning,” She had a twinkle in her eye. “I won’t be getting anyone in trouble, but there has been lots of talk, given how taken you and your prince are with each other, for how long it would be before you’d be with child. Such a joyous occasion is to be celebrated, even if perhaps it wouldn’t do to go around announcing it just yet. For safety's sake."

Her blood rushing, the ocean in her ears, with almost trembling hands, Annabeth touched at her belly. Nothing felt different beneath the layers of fabric.

It had not occurred to her it could even be a possibility. Percy had only laid with her once, on their wedding night, and only at her insistence. Now that the idea had entered her head, it began to grow, taking shape in her mind and her heart. Just like Percy’s seed in her womb. 

Percy’s child. She could give Percy a child. 

That happy thought carried her for several more weeks, as she monitored the signs and tried to find the perfect time to speak with him, to get him to visit their land, so she might show him his fortune and share the news that she would give him an heir for it as well. 

Men wanted sons, she knew. Perhaps, perhaps with luck Annabeth could still win him, could give him money and a son, and earn a little of his affection in return. 

As the days turned longer, still his mood did not improve, until one day after the morning meal, she prodded him to eat more, so she could then take him out to see all that was his. 

He told her instead that he wished to leave. Leave Svealand, his newly acquired land, and leave her, too. 

Struck with panic and despair, still she would not resort to cheap ploys. She fell back to the tricks that always worked with Percy: a little bullying, a lot of logic, and a refusal to let him go without her. 

By the end of the week, then, the plan was set. Once again, she would set out for lands unknown, leaving her father and her family behind, with no assurance she would ever see them again. This time, however, she was able to give her a proper farewell--and to tell him her suspicions. 

He embraced her, his joy overtaking his sorrow, and she embraced him in turn. 

To leave once before nearly rent her in two. Leaving him now was sorrowful, yes, but startlingly simple. The road would be long, and hard, and dangerous, but she was going to have Percy’s child. She was going to find her mother.

Let all manner of horrors just try and stop her. 

 ***

 She was beginning to understand why her mother had sworn to remain a chaste goddess.

Pregnancy was a truly nightmarish invention. Between the nausea, the soreness, the constant need to relieve herself, the inability to use the full spectrum of her wits in the manner to which she had been accustomed, she was well and truly suffering--to say nothing of the incessant, unending, all consuming lust which would strike her at the most inopportune times. The wind could merely change direction, and she would suddenly be aflame with carnal desire, aching for the touch of her husband in her most private, feminine parts, unable to think for the haze of want and need.

It was maddening. Utterly, utterly maddening.

Then, her hand would come to rest on her stomach, and it all would fade away at the mere thought of the child inside of her. Percy’s child. Their child.

Their son, she prayed.

And oh, how she prayed for a son, a little boy with wild black hair and eyes the color of the sea in the sunlight, who drooled in his sleep and loved his mother above all other women!

Concern gripped her, then, cold fingers around her heart. 

What did Annabeth know of being a mother?

She had only met her true mother a handful of times, and had barely ever received an ounce of affection from her. Her father’s wife had been the sworn enemy of her childhood, the two of them always at odds, until it had reached its boiling point, and Annabeth had taken her chances with the wild. The most she knew of motherhood had been what little she had been able to glean from Percy’s mother, Sarah, who had been more than happy to share the secrets of her trade--yet she could have spent a lifetime under Sarah’s tutelage, and still she feared it would not be enough. 

Annabeth was not a kind, nurturing person by nature. Hard rather than soft, sharp rather than gentle, none who had ever known her would have ever imagined her to be a mother. In truth, as a young girl, Annabeth had not even imagined it for herself. A warrior woman, a daughter of Athena: she had been so sure that she had been destined for greater things than marriage and children.

How foolish she had been.

Wives and mothers won wars in ways that Athena herself could not even conceive of. When she considered motherhood now, she thought of Mary, her father’s wife, moving money and bodies on a chessboard of titanic proportions. She thought of Sarah, who had labored every day beneath the notice of the men around her to provide and care for her son, to teach him what he would need to know to defeat the titan lord. 

Now she better understood why Hera, queen of the heavens, had also been the patroness of mothers.

Annabeth would do everything in her power, she swore, to shore up influence around their little family, to ensure that they were safe and secure and comfortable in all ways, both seen and unforeseen. And, well, if Percy would not accept her affection, as was his right, then at the very least, she would be able to give it to their son. 

 ***

 He was perfect. By all the gods above, he was absolutely perfect. 

Her son. Their son. Little Alexandros. 

She had so wanted to name him ‘Perseus,’ not after the slayer of the gorgon, but instead the hero of Olympus. No matter her personal feelings, for all that he had done, Percy deserved to be immortalized with the best of the heroes, for he was the best of the heroes--no, the better of all of them--and he deserved to have his name and his legacy passed on.

But, alas, it was not meant to be. Percy, gentle as could be, rejected the name for their son, and so they had settled on Alexandros.

He had been right, to her great surprise. Alexandros, the name, was perfect.

“The ship’s crew are in a tizzy,” was Nico’s greeting the day after her son’s birth, and nearly three years since they had last seen him.

Glibly, she said, “I had not meant to give birth aboard.” 

“That is not the issue,” he said, his eyes locked on Percy. “They have noticed we are, apparently, traveling at a much faster pace than we should be.” 

“Do they not wish to reach Venice in a timely manner?” Percy asked, before busying himself with her shawl, though she had assured him she was warm enough. 

Nico’s eyes had not left him, piercing. “They are wondering if it is an ill omen.” 

“They should be happy that the new mother and her child will be in safety soon,” was her husband’s only response.

“Yes,” Nico nodded, “about that…” He trailed off, eyes boring into her now, brimming with so many questions. 

“You promised you would not pester them so soon,” Will scolded, though he had a smile in his voice. 

“Well you cannot expect me not to wonder at such extraordinary circumstances.”

Annabeth did not remember Nico and Will being particularly friendly during their days at camp; in fact, she distinctly recalled Nico running away from any sort of friendship at the first chance he could. He had been a surly, combative young man, with his stony glare and frightening aura. That he had attracted a friend as sunny and cheerful as Will was nothing short of a minor miracle, and that they tolerated each other enough for light teasing was quite the achievement.

In her memory, Niccolo di Angelo was still a skinny little thing, carrying an ancient, profane sword too big for his body, following Percy about like a lost puppy. She would confess to not knowing much about the young man, but she was certain she would have remembered if he had been a noble--yet somehow, the revelation that he was a count had completely blindsided her, with a fortune fit for the son of the god of wealth. 

“Well, what of your story?” she asked, adjusting her position to better support her sleeping child. “We have not seen you for nearly three years.”

He raised a brow, familiar disdain on his face. “I reside in the city.”

Oh. Well, then. Annabeth had sort of been under the impression that he lived in the Underworld, with his father. “Truly?”

“My mother was a countess,” he said, “many years ago, and, with some light forgeries, I was able to access her estate, as her sole living descendent.”

Many, many years ago, on their very first quest, Percy and Annabeth had sought to take refuge in a large tavern, only to discover it to be the den of the Lotus-Eaters, whose power stole time away from one’s perception, seducing them with food and wine and cards and dice to trap them there completely. Though they had not realized it at the time, Nico and his sister had been trapped in the same establishment, stashed there by an Underworldian associate some seventy or so years prior. How strange it must have been for him, to emerge into a world he could no longer recognize, and all his family long since perished.

But Nico would not be moved. “Our tale is long and tedious by comparison, but yours--now that has piqued my interest. I understand you and your husband were still in the city on the eve of its fall?”

“We fled as the walls were overrun,” she said. “We had thought to make straight for the agoge, but when we arrived, it had vanished, as if it had never been there at all.”

He frowned. “Yes, it had gone by the time we had arrived as well. Afterwards, then, Will and I traveled to Aachen, to speak to the Legion. I would have thought you would have gone as well.” He turned his eyes to Percy. “Iason sends his greetings, by the way.”

Clenching her teeth, she busied herself with something on Alexandro’s blanket, so she would not open her mouth and say something particularly foolish.

“We traveled to Thera, and to Athens, first, to try and contact our divine parents” said Percy. Annabeth did not think she could detect any changes in his voice, any hints of longing or the like, but she heard nothing--though that, in itself, did not necessarily indicate much. “Once we were unable to reach them, we decided to travel to Annabeth’s homeland in the North, to return her to her father.”

“A successful journey, I take it?” 

Lightly, Will swatted him. 

“After our marriage, then,” Percy went on, “we thought it best to return to the South.”

“And Venice?” he asked. “Have you any family here?”

Percy cast her a sideways glance, one she could not quite parse. “We… wondered if, perhaps, the gods had landed here,” he admitted, in a low voice, “after they fled the city of Constantine.”

“We have not seen hide nor hair of them,” said Will. “Nico has not even been able to contact his father."

Percy’s eyes widened. “Lord Hades has gone, too?”

“It seems so,” Nico said, looking pensive. “The ancient doorways have moved as well: the River Styx, the Door of Orpheus, and others.”

“The only clue we have is a message imparted to us in dreams from our parents,” said Percy, “the city of old soldiers.”

Will straightened in his seat. “I, too, have had such a dream.”

“As well, there also was a vision from my mother. In this city, she said there is a church, green and white with a red dome. Have you ever heard of such a place?”

Nico hummed, thoughtful. “Possibly. I was delivered a different clue, it seems: Zagreus and Thanatos, blood and death, appeared to me in a dream, and bade me to seek the birthplace of fire itself.”

As one, they frowned, turning over their words as though they had been handed one of Rachael’s prophecies. As one, they all came up empty. “Well,” said Will, after some time, “I do not believe we shall divine an answer today. There is another riddle I have in mind, one quite simpler: Percy, Annabeth, have you a place to stay in the city?”

With little persuasion, Nico had been insistent that they stay with him for the time being, in his large palazzo. When Annabeth was feeling better, he swore, Nico would show them all his available properties--for, of course, he had several--and that they would discuss rent at that time. Quickly and expediently on their arrival, he arranged for his staff to move their things, and granted them use of his beautifully appointed rooms, a separate one for each of them, down the hall from each other. In an uncharacteristic stroke of compassion, she thought, he had even located a wet nurse for Alexandros. Though Annabeth was loath to part with him during the day, she found it to be a godsent at night, even after only a week, allowing her the sleep she so desperately needed.

Percy proclaimed the procurement right and good, but it took her several days to realize he wanted to relieve her of her son. “Let Nico handle it,” he said, fussing over her, “you should rest.”

Days turned to months, and he let Nico handle a great many things. He spent hours holed up in Nico’s study, discussing matters of economics, travel, and management, as the Conte di Angelo poured his resources into a new business venture--a shipping company, financed by Nico and overseen by Percy.

The months stretched on into a year, and predictably, Percy had already seen great growth and investment from some other bankers and merchants in the city, what with his ability to not only turn the seas in his favor and outrun any marauding raiders, but also to simply discern the best days to sail, to predict weather patterns and wave directions. 

She always knew he’d be superbly successful at this line of work--even without his father’s blessings.

Annabeth, meanwhile, had not been sitting idly by. Once again, with Nico’s assistance, she had entered the expatriate community of Constantinople, rubbing elbows with certain persons who would not have even deigned to look her way, had they known her before, in the fallen city itself. Now that she was moneyed and married to a very important shipping contractor, a whole world of politics had opened itself to her strategic ways, though she largely tried to avoid the thorniest problems. Even now, there were whispers of what to do with the poor princess Zoe, how they might set her up in marriage with a Roman prince or Northern lord, and grow their strength and finances until they had mustered enough of a force to retake the city of Constantine.

Even with all her newfound money and influence, unfortunately the men of the community did not often take her thoughts into consideration--unsurprisingly. 

Besides, she was a mother now. She had a child, and a new sympathy for Zoe’s plight. Were it her decision, she would recommend that they leave the young lady alone. 

Annabeth could not say that she liked her new friends. They were pleasant enough people, and provided ample stimulating conversation, but many had never known the feel of a weapon in their hands or had tasted their own blood, never mind that they were all, of course, Christian. Oh, there were a few children of the gods here and there, one or two legacies of the Legion, but they were few and far between.

Percy was not always working, but he was not one to be confined to the home. He adored the city, and the city adored him right back, filling him with a kind of life and energy she had not seen since those few, halcyon months after the second Titanomachy. He was thriving in Venice, not just financially, but emotionally--and physically. Somehow, in the year since they had arrived, he had grown even more handsome, merry and always flushed with laughter after he returned from Nico’s residence. 

A part of it pained her to see him thrive among the Latins where he had only shriveled up in her own homeland. He had not looked poorly in Svealand, of course--Percy could not ever look poorly--but there he had been so sour and withdrawn and cold, and here he very nearly burst with life. After weighing the differences between there and here, she could only conclude that the greatest changes in his life had been the lack of snow, and the presence of a companion he liked better.

Not her, of course.

When she was feeling less charitable, it seemed to her as though her husband spent every waking moment with the count. They were an odd trio, Percy, Nico, and his doctor friend Will. At the beginning, she had thought Percy was exercising some latent protective tendencies over the count. She knew he still harbored no small amount of guilt over the death of his sister, many years past; the man of noble character that he was, of course he would want to see that Nico was well taken care of. It was one of the things she loved most about him.

Then they became business partners, a sound financial move. Then they began to spend the bulk of their time together. Then, during the Carnival season, Annabeth had heard them stumbling into her house together, no doubt having just come from the raucous festivities which had captured the whole city, tittering like a couple of young girls. 

Things began to piece themselves together after that.

“The next time we travel to Aachen, you and Percy should accompany us,” Will said, extending an invitation for which she had a distinct feeling only came from him, at supper one night, while Percy and Nico were out overseeing some new contract or other. “I know Iason and Franko always ask after Percy; I suspect they would be very pleased to meet you.”

Franko, perhaps, she thought to herself, but certainly not Iason. Annabeth very much doubted he would be pleased to make his acquaintance with the woman who had stolen his great love from him, trapping him with a phony marriage and an unplanned child. 

The children of the elder gods had a kind of undeniable sway; Annabeth had felt it for herself. How darkly amusing, she thought, that not even Percy was immune to its influence, having attached himself not only to the son of Jupiter, but the son of Hades as well.

“I should be very pleased to meet them as well,” she replied, sipping on a cup of tea. 

She would not, but she had no real recourse to refuse. 

Annabeth had made her deal with the devil, and now she reaped the rewards: her son’s love, her friends’ affections, her social standing, and her husband’s indifference. If she had to meet another of her romantic rivals, she would do so with all the grace and poise her station required of her.

Even if she would rather die.

 ***

 Venice, 1455

The distance from Conte di Angelo’s residence was a little farther than she would have liked. Most days, she would have taken a gondola all the way from the palazzo to their little house, but today, she needed time to think. What better way to do so, she supposed, than by strolling through the Piasa San Marco. 

Annabeth adored the square: the red stone with its straight, white lines, the beautiful arches on the surrounding buildings, and of course, the church which dominated the eastern end. Mammoth and blocky it was, yet it reminded her so strongly of the old St. Sophia, from the golden walls which shone in the morning sun to the grand domes which rose above it. The domes still had their weight borne by expertly decorated pendentives, each surface layered with gold and portraits in the style of Eastern Romans, hideous, of course, yet comforting in its familiarity. Whenever she walked around inside the building, pretending as though she were observing the rites of the Christians and ignoring the scandalous gazes of older women as she went about with her hair only lightly covered, a complex crown of braids piled upon her head, she felt as though she were inside of a great, golden jewelry box, fit for an empress. It was not, she thought, the church of Sarah’s dream, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

She did not enter the church today, but stayed outside of it, settling herself in one of the arches of the surrounding buildings, observing the strange procession of Christian men as they passed, their steps and their songs hypnotic, in their own way. Annabeth was no expert in the rituals of the trinity, but even to her untrained eyes and ears, the differences between such displays of piety on the part of the fathers, and the rituals and regimens of the eastern patriarchs were stark, almost exaggerated. 

Some days, she missed Constantinople and the agoge so much it ached. The good St. Mark, despite its Latin trappings, helped her to feel a little less lonely. 

And her son, of course.

Even thinking of her son, she could not help but smile. Little Alexandros. Already he took so much after his father, his same dark hair and green eyes and large nose. He would grow up to be very, very handsome, she could already tell. To her great delight, he was just as attached to her as she was to him, eschewing the nursemaids and nannies for Annabeth instead. He was her great comfort while Percy was out conducting business on the water, the little piece of him that he had left with her.

Annabeth loved her son, more than nearly anything else in the world. All of her immediate peers, however, they had large, sprawling, enormous families. Annabeth, with her single child, simply could not compete, and she so hated to lose. Was she merely lonely? Jealous, of the family ideal? Perhaps. 

But even besides… she still loved Percy. Even though he had barely so much as looked on her ever since they arrived. He was a decent husband and a magnificent father, and she wanted to give him more. She wanted more for herself. 

And selfishly, she wanted him to touch her once again. She could no longer satisfy herself, not when the sense memory of his fingers inside of her still haunted her dreams.

So, she had gone to the count in order to petition him for the use of her husband.

Nico had only stared at her, flabbergasted.

“...Come again?” he had asked.

In her finest dress to prop up her ego, she had once again repeated her request. “I know you and my husband are involved,” she had said, her head raised high, “but one child is not enough for a family of our class. He will need an heir, of course, as well as daughters for dowries and sons to carry on the business. I can provide those for him.”

Yes, Annabeth could--and not Nico. This was the keystone of her strategic brilliance, a body which could bear children. 

Still, he had stared at her, more confused than ever. “I… Signora, I do not understand.”

What was so confusing? “Your excellency,” she had said, ready to try again, “I have come to you today to--”

“No, no, I understand that,” he had said. “You have made your request quite clear. My confusion is thus: why do you feel the need to petition me for children, when you could very easily ask your husband?”

“Because…” Was he being deliberately foolish in order to mock her? “Well--because, you two are…”

He had raised an eyebrow. “We are what?”

Gods above, was he going to force her to say it?

“I think, perhaps, you may have misunderstood the nature of our relationship, Anna Elisabetta,” he had said, dryly. 

“With respect, sir,” she had replied, “do not mistake me for one of the trinity zealots of this city. I know what heroes do when they keep company with each other.” 

He had frowned, befuddled. “You… are you implying that your husband and I--”

“I, too, have kept company with women,” she had said, quickly, suddenly worried he would take her words as an insult, “and I would never seek to cast judgement.”

Then, he had done something she never expected.

He had laughed.

“I beg your pardon?”

He only laughed harder. 

So uncivilized, she had thought, her irritation growing by the second.

“I can certainly say,” he finally said, when he regained his wits, though stray chuckles still escaped every now and then, “that this was not what I was expecting.”

It had been odd to see him laugh. Odd, but not unpleasant. Truly, he had a lovely laugh, the dourness falling from his countenance. It was not difficult to see why Percy might be so taken with him. 

“Oh, Annabeth,” said the count, “I do not know what mist has deceived you, for it can only be through magical means that you do not recognize just how deeply Percy loves you.”

He had sent her away shortly thereafter, to seek out her husband, and ponder on his words, which was how she found herself at the church of St. Mark, lingering as the day stretched on into evening. 

Did… did Percy love her?

She thought he had, once. In their youth she had sought his affections and thought she had been making progress. She had spent several long months waiting for him to ask for her hand. 

She had destroyed all hope of them, then, and then he had found the legion, and the beauty of men… or so she thought.

Had he not gone around the world with her? Had he not agreed to marry her, to stay with her and build a family with her? Had they not shared intimate moment after intimate moment, exchanging secret words and heated touches?

But he had also avoided her as best he could, eschewing her companionship for that of his friends. He had only lain with her once, at her insistence. He had had to be convinced into the truth of his marriage, that they were a union, and not two people unhappily bound together. And those same, maddening words, the ones which had haunted her for months, ever since they had made camp in the ruins of Olbia, they rang so clearly in her ears: no mortal woman. The implication there was clear. Whatever interest he may have had, he had not acted on it.

However… 

Perhaps she had been… mistaken. 

A different sort of fear took over her then. Had she been mistaken? Had she missed such an obvious clue, and thus doomed herself to a life without love, all because of a silly misunderstanding?

She could not think on it for too long, lest she become consumed by the hurricane of her own fears and misgivings. 

Rather than take the river road, she chose to walk the rest of the way to their apartments in the eastern end of the city, the neighborhood they called Castello, hoping beyond hope that her heart would have calmed itself by the time she made it back. 

It hadn’t.

Entering her home, she was first greeted, as always, by Freya the cat, who had, in the intervening years, grown even softer and furrier than she had been as a kitten, the tiny little puffball. Trotting up to Annabeth, her tail held high, she gave her mistress a perfunctory sniff, and a sweet little bump of her head, before darting off to commit untold amounts of feline mischief, as was her wont. Following her inside, then, her heart already softened, the next thing she saw was him.

Percy must have taken off work early; she had assumed he would still be at the port for another few hours at least. He had Alexandros with him, as well. They made such a wonderful picture together, father and son. When she next had a stretch of uninterrupted time, she would go about having this moment captured in perpetuity in a tapestry, a moment trapped in time and memory, just to make her smile. He had not yet noticed her, so taken with their son was he. 

Then she saw what he was doing. 

“There you are,” he said, popping another olive into Alexandros’ mouth. “Yes, they are your favorite, are they not?” 

In response, Alexandros gurgled, happily. He had spoken a few words already--”mamma” and the like--but he did not need words to express his joy at being given his favorite food.

“Indeed?” he asked, as though he were truly carrying on a conversation with his son. “Another?” He held out another olive to him, but Alexandros would not accept it, clumsily smacking his hand away. “Oh no? You are finished, then?” 

He shook his head, indicating Percy with his thick, chubby hand.

“What,” Percy gasped in delight, “you wish me to eat with you? Yes?” he asked, bringing the olive to his mouth in order to test his hypothesis.

Alexandros giggled, clapping.

“Oh, very well,” said Percy, his bright, beautiful smile like the glint of the sun off the water. “Since you insist, and since I love you very very much, I shall share this with you. Not a word of this to your grandfather, however--understand?”

Then he popped it into his mouth, and swallowed. Alexandros giggled again, smacking his hands together. 

“And here I thought,” Annabeth said, unable to keep her silence any longer, “you hated the fruit.”

To his credit, he did not jump at her presence. His smile did not fall either. “I think our son is more important than my father’s disdain for olives, no? Say ‘hello’ to mamma!” he bade his son, hoisting him up on one hip. 

Alexandros reached for her, his sea green eyes wide and wanting, and she took him into her arms, kissing his forehead. “Hello to you, too, angele mou,” she said, falling in love all over again. “I apologize for being gone so long.”

“It was no trouble,” said her husband. “We were able to keep ourselves entertained well enough.”

She recognized the look on his face well enough. It was the one he wore whenever he was overcome with love for Alexandros, a silly little grin crossing his face, his eyes soft and shining, his whole being exuding warmth and comfort. 

But he was not looking at their son. He was looking at her. 

She swallowed. 

Many months ago, she had asked Percy how he knew that his mother had reached safety, and he had responded thusly: that it was a matter of faith. 

Pressing another kiss to Alexandros, enjoying the way his face scrunched up at the odd feeling of her lips, she passed him off to the nanny who had been observing the scene from a respectable distance, whispering, though he could not understand at so young an age, that she would be with him shortly. 

Then she turned back to Percy. Still did he look on her with that same expression, softness and affection, care and comfort, home and serenity. 

A matter of faith. 

Stepping up to him, she slid her arms about his neck, and pressed her mouth to his.

He responded in kind. 

His hands immediately went to her hair, tangling his fingers in the free-flowing strands. He tugged on them, just a touch, but enough that as her mouth opened in a gasp, he was able to slide his tongue inside, and there she tasted all of him, felt the firmness of his body as he pressed up against her. 

Yes, she thought, her senses full of the sea. Yes.

Pulling back, he chased her lips with his, whining a little as she did not let him continue, and oh, how she wished to continue, but words had to be exchanged first. She could not be wrong again. She refused it.

“I love you, Percy,” she murmured, gazing deep into the waters of the ocean. “I love you, most ardently.” 

Those eyes crinkled in the corners, joy crossing his face in thick lines, like the faces of the saints on the walls of St. Mark. “I love you, Anja,” he whispered back, bringing her hands to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “I have always loved you.”

Then, without further ado, he kissed her again, and she melted into the warm embrace of the waves.

 ***

 The first thing she felt in the morning was soreness. 

She felt it everywhere, but she felt it most keenly in her stomach, pulsing out from the core of her into every muscle and sinew and bone.

No, not her stomach--lower.

She flushed.

Ah. 

With a groan, she rolled over, only to be met with the smiling face of her husband. “Oh,” she mumbled, still half asleep. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Annabeth,” he said. “How was your rest?”

Deep and fulfilling, for she had been pushed to the very brink of exhaustion by their activities the previous night, a fact which he most certainly already knew. “Well enough,” she replied, with an air of disaffection, and he chuckled. She could feel it against her chest, realizing, belatedly, that he wore no night shirt, cuddled so close together they were. “And yourself?”

“Wonderful,” he said, and he kissed her cheek. “Marvelous.” He kissed her nose. “Absolutely divine.” He kissed her mouth, running one hand gently over the bare skin of her side, and she shivered.

“Mmph, Percy--” The force of his kisses stoked the fire within her, and as much as she desired to give into it, she felt that there were a few things which required a brief discussion. “A moment, please.”

At her request, he pulled back, though he kept a hand loosely curled at the juncture of her shoulder. His fingers brushed against her, as though he could not stop himself from touching her the way he wished to, the way she wished him to. “Yes?”

“We…” By the gods, she could not focus when he looked on her like that, dark and arresting and wanting. “I--”

But she could not help herself, breaking down into giggles and laughter. Percy joined her, until the two of them were as children again, laughing at nothing and everything. 

“Oh, perdono, perdono,” she said, breathless with humor. “There were things I wished to say, I swear.”

“There will be time later for discussion,” he replied, a familiar heat overtaking his gaze. “Now there are different sounds I would have you make.”

Rolling her on top of him, he kissed her once again, his mouth hot and insistent against hers, crushing her to his chest, the currents of his hands running through her hair and buffeting her body. With great, great regret, she lifted herself up, pulling herself away from him, even as he rose up after her, eyes gleaming with such affection that she could not even fathom, as boundless as the sea that was his lifeblood and his birthright--she drowned in him, and she would be more than happy to die with him once again. 

“Percy, wait,” she said, firmly. She could not let this go on a moment further without saying her piece.

Obedient, attentive, loyal to a fault, he sat up with her on his lap, his fingers curled about her hips, tapping lightly, waiting for her. She touched him in kind, her hands about his shoulders, rocking back and forth on his lap as she tried to settle her nerves. 

“I…” She swallowed, raising her eyes heavenward. Old shame caused her cheeks to heat, mistakes long since made rising from the fog of the past, like mountains. “There is… something I must say to you. Please, allow me to say it in totality, and without interruption.”

Frowning slightly, nevertheless, he nodded.

To ground herself, she squeezed his shoulders, focusing on the swell of his bare chest as it rose and fell with each breath, indisputable, irrefutable proof of his life, of his life with her. “What I said to you,” she began, haltingly, “all those years ago--please, you must know I never truly wished you dead.”

“Annabeth--”

She squeezed again, more firmly. “I beg you, allow me my space to speak.”

Mouth twisting, he acquiesced. 

“When you disappeared,” she said, casting her mind back to that horrible, terrible time, “I--I thought I had left you to your death. You, the person whom I loved most in the world, I thought I had left you to tender mercies of some monster, and that in my moment of weakness, I had abandoned all that I had been taught by Chiron, Thalia, you, to never leave a friend in peril. For over a year, I lived in my shame and my weakness, and when you did return, miracle of miracles, know that I was happy. I was so happy to know you were safe.” She could not count the hours she had lost to tears and sleeplessness and self-hatred. The year had passed as though in a terrible dream, in bursts of meaningless activity which she could not recall and had only served to render her even more miserable. To see him home once more had felt like the passing of a sea storm, or the healing of a wound, but then--”But when I saw the mark of the Legion upon you, I--I was so angry with myself, to think that I had spent all those months worrying myself sick for nothing, when you were as hale and healthy as one of our kind can reasonably consider to be… but that feeling, in itself, was childish and immature. I should never have thought those things, or treated you thus, yet I let my baser instincts take over until I pushed you away in the most vile manner, and for that, know that I am deeply, deeply sorry. I do not beg your forgiveness, nor do I deserve your love.” Then, taking his hands in hers, she kissed the knuckles there, as he had done to hers many times before, and closed her eyes against his face. 

It was not graceful, but it was the truth. She had never been so skilled with words, but she could not let another moment pass her by without her great confession.

Percy was, by nature, not a vengeful person. In that way, his mother’s influence far outweighed his father’s, so she was not surprised when he pulled her forward, and kissed her forehead. Opening her eyes, she saw Percy looking up at her, his beautiful gaze shining like the glass of Murano. “Of course you are forgiven,” he whispered. “Of course you are loved.”

“You forgive too easily, kærasti.”

“I most certainly do not,” he said. “But we were young and misguided in many things, and we deserve a little grace between us.” He kissed one cheek and then the other. 

“I do not want there to be anything between us,” Annabeth said. “no ambiguity or animosity. You must understand how much I adore you and always, have.” 

“I love you.” Even at such simple words, she felt her face grow hot, felt her mouth curl up in a smile. “I have loved you for so long, certainly since before we arrived at your father’s house, but, truly, for much, much longer than that--ever since I was a child.”

“You have?” she whispered, afraid to even voice the question, lest the fantastical words be ripped from her.

“Do you remember,” he said, twirling a stray curl about his finger, “the night of the Solstice festival upon Olympus? When we danced in the hall of the gods?”

Of course she did. She had been taller than him then, bless him, but they had danced together well into the small hours of the morning, to a song both sorrowful yet bursting with hope.

“That was the moment I realized that I loved you, and I have never, never stopped--not even during my time with the Legion.” His countenance changed, then, frowning lightly. “My only regret is that I did not tell you before I went with them. I should have said something on our way to Aachen, but, you must understand, I had nothing: no money, no employment, no--”

She placed her finger on his lips, silencing the stream of dour truths. “I know,” she said. “Of course I understand.”

“Never did I think that I could have this,” he said, around her finger, kissing the tip of it. “The gods saw fit to bless me with your hand and your child, and I would have been happy with no further.”

“But now you have me, too,” she responded--perhaps a little cheeky.

Percy liked a little cheek, she knew.

He grinned. “Oh yes,” he said, sweeping her close once more. “Now I have you, too.”

And if it were up to him, she knew, he would have her, again and again and again, a series of events to which she was not unopposed. Yet, he had given her so much, his life and his love and his loyalty, and so he deserved something in return. Something she had never done for anything else. Something she never imagined she would do at all. 

His arms crossed the bare skin of her back, one high, one dangerously low. It was almost difficult to move, to shimmy herself out of his embrace and down, and not only because Percy was stronger than she. He must have made a valiant effort to control himself during their little heart-to-heart, for she could feel the hard press of his cock up against her, no doubt having been awakened by such a warm, friendly presence, rocking back and forth upon it. As he had done the previous night to her, so she did to him this morning, kissing her way down the planes of his chest, his stomach, his hips--a body worthy of Phidias, of the greatest marble-men and bronze-workers of the ages. 

“Where are you going?” he pleaded, petulant. “I have not had my fill of kisses.”

“Worry not--you shall have all the kisses you desire, and more.” Truly, he must have been a man of particular restraint and discipline, to have gone all those years without kissing her, so demandingly, so full of passion. To think that such a romantic had been lurking beneath the surface of the sulky, downtrodden boy who had stumbled into their camp! Certainly, she had never imagined that they two would be in this position, until one day, when she could no longer imagine being in this position with anyone else.

Both in the literal sense and the metaphorical.

Lukas’ betrayal and Percy’s disappearance had made things… somewhat difficult for Annabeth, in the realm of romance, and without Silena, her closest confidant, to help her make sense of her feelings, she was left to the whims of her own imaginations. Though she never acted on any of them, her imagination had provided her with many, many scenarios to dwell upon, most, if not all of them, featuring the man before her--and being pregnant had only made them even more intense. To have known his attentions so intimately, to bear the proof of it so obviously, made her dreams even more vivid and agonizing than usual, particularly since he was so physically close, yet so maddeningly far away. 

She had not had a chance to perform this on her wedding night, too burdened with hesitation and dread. Now that she had him as he had her, she would not hesitate. 

A student of art and architecture, Annabeth was no stranger to male anatomy--beyond the simple study of marble and body, she had grown up with a number of young men and women in very tight corners, which did not allow for much privacy. She was even no longer unfamiliar with Percy’s anatomy, having studied it quite extensively the previous night. 

Upon seeing it again, she could not help but flush, biting her lip. 

Percy was a proper man, with a proper man’s cock--small and perfectly sized, unlike the large, boorish, sex-crazed animals in the poems and drinking songs. He wielded it as skillfully as he wielded his sword, bringing her to greater and greater heights with each thrust. 

She should thank it for giving her a son, no?

Annabeth then wetted her lips, and kissed the very tip of him. Percy nearly jumped out of his skin, his knees knocking into her shoulders. “Anja!” he gasped, “what--”

But she would not let him answer, taking the whole of him in her mouth. 

For some time, she had him prisoner there, hypothesizing and experimenting and committing to memory everything he enjoyed, which twist of the tongue or pull of the lips brought the most broken, wrecked sounds from his mouth. At his sides, his hands flexed and unflexed, hypnotic like the tides, grasping at nothing but air. “Anja, Anja, Anja,” he babbled, breathless and writhing, and Annabeth found she was quite enjoying this. The taste was not so pleasant, but the sight of his head tilted back, his chin pointed to the sky, the strain in his muscles as he struggled not to thrust in her mouth so that she would not be so rudely interrupted, the control and the power--she liked that very, very much.

It was not long before he was pawing, clumsily at her head. “Anja,” he groaned, “I cannot--I cannot--”

Even this, too, was becoming more and more familiar, the state of him as he neared that point. She must have miscalculated, however, for it was not a moment later that she was forced to pull her head away, her mouth suddenly very ill-tasting.

Unable to grasp any sort of control, he spent himself in her hand right there and then, so forceful it even landed on her face, and in her hair. 

“Cazzo, cazzo, merda, Anja,” he sighed, twitching and moaning as he fell once more to earth. “Oh, Anja.” His chest heaved as he gasped for his breath, his limbs boneless and lax. On his face was a smile, sleepy and silly, his eyes closed. 

She gave him one more lasting caress, and he shuddered, whimpering.

Climbing back up the expanse of his body, she returned much the way she came, kissing each exposed inch, from stomach to chest to shoulders to neck, then meeting him once more at his lips. He groaned, his face twisting quite adorably at the taste of himself in her mouth. “If I must taste it, love,” she said with a smile, “then you must too.”

His eyes popped open, then. “No,” he said, “no, no, you mustn’t do anything which you do not like.” With some effort, he craned his neck to see her, his hands coming up to cup at her face. “Neither something to me, nor with me, nor for me. I will only see you brought perfect pleasure in our bed.” 

“You misunderstand me,” she said, raising a brow. “I did not dislike it. I did not dislike it quite a bit.”

A moment, then he blushed, divining her true meaning, and flopping his head back down. “I see.”

She tittered, feeling once more a girl of sixteen years old, in love with a boy and with the funny feeling in her stomach whenever he smiled at her. 

“As well, I felt as though I had a debt to pay for all the pleasures you performed upon me last night. I must say,” she said, nestling into the space of his shoulder, drawing her finger up the planes of his chest, “that was very well done for one who has never known a woman.”

He frowned, though she more felt it than saw it. “How do you mean?”

“What you said to me, all those years ago--that you had lain with ‘no mortal woman.’” It had been a phrase which had haunted her waking dreams, ringing in her ears like the bells of the churches on every street corner, frightening her into withholding the truth of her heart for far too long. 

An odd smile crossed his face, then, something far more smug and self-confident than she had ever seen him before. Percy lightly stroking the skin of her neck, she shivered, pressing into him. “No mortal woman, yes.”

The implication of emphasis was clear. 

She leaned up on an elbow, incredulous. “An… immortal one?”

Strange little smile, he nodded. 

Her heart thudded in his chest. An immortal woman. The pool of potential partners had just expanded considerably. “Well,” she said, perhaps a little shakily. “Look at you.”

Look at me, she wished to say. Look at me, so plain and mortal. Look at me, who spurned and rejected you, whose beauty shall fade in time, who will one day leave you, through no will of my own.

Curiosity overcame the greater part of her fear. “With whom?”

But Percy, sensing her turmoil, raised himself up on his elbow to look her in the eyes. “One day,” he said, soft and low, “I shall tell you the truth of it. I shall divulge every moment of that time, and how each one paled in comparison to the long, cold, lonely nights beside the Danapris. For now, however,” he reached out to tuck a stray curl behind the swell of her ear. “Now, let us have peace. There will be time later for talk--a whole life’s worth of it, and one I look forward to sharing with you.”

“A whole life’s worth,” she agreed, settling down beside him. Instantly, he turned his body towards her, his arm coming up once more to pull her close. “I cannot think of anything better.”

“Nothing?” he teased.

“Well,” she said, stretching her neck up towards his face, matching smiles adorning their faces, “not quite nothing.”

In truth, there was nothing more she required of him than this, his body beside hers, their fingers intertwined, and their hearts finally, finally, finally together.

But she would never say no to another kiss.

It took them the better part of the morning, but they did eventually find the strength to pull themselves out of each other’s arms in order to get dressed and rejoin the household. The feel of Percy pulling the laces of her stays made her wonder if perhaps her maidservant would find herself relieved of that duty. When he was done, he pushed her hair aside and kissed her neck, the feeling of his chapped lips against her skin inspiring yet another surge of heat inside of her which nearly forced her to rip her clothing right back off, but the dual promises of food and her son kept her from pulling him back to her bed.

The bed they would now share, she was sure. 

She found one of her veils, a white one detailed in blue that she had hoped her husband would like, and began wrapping it around her head. “Must you torture me so, my love,” he said, face set in an adorable pout.

“How do you mean?”

“Why do you insist on covering even more of yourself?” As he spoke, he reached under it before she pinned it in place, and pulled several of her curls out of it. 

She giggled at his expression, strikingly reminiscent of the one which Alexandros wore when he did not wish to eat his sprouts. “You wish everyone to see me?” 

“Well, perhaps not all of you,” Percy admitted, his hand curling around her waist. “Some parts of you are mine alone.” He brushed his hand over the space where her feminine center lay, and even through her gown, it was nearly too much. “Yet, if it meant I never had to have it shielded from my view, I would not mind everyone seeing your hair.”

Pausing, she considered his eager, wide-eyed look. It was a little scandalous, but… there was not much work to be done outside of the household today. What was the harm? 

She stripped her veil away running a hand through her hair. Unexpectedly, it caught on something hard and crusty resting in her curls. Frowning, she pulled on her hair, confused--then when she realized what it was, she felt her entire face heat.

“If you insist on spending your seed in my hair, love,” she said, dryly, “then I will not be able to walk around with it uncovered.”

He flushed, too, dark and red, turning and retrieving one of her combs from her table. “Allow me then to rectify my mistake.” 

“Oh, no, no.” She waved him off. “As your punishment, I am going to keep it this way. But, as I am a respectable, married woman, and respectable married women tend hot to keep their husbands seed in their hair, it will be covered, for now, to teach you a lesson regarding aim and husbandly manners.”

Thoroughly chastised, yet still smiling, he set down the comb. “Might I… plait it, before you cover it, then?” 

Once he promised he would not attempt to remove his dried seed, she acquiesced.

It was not her boldest fantasy about the man sitting beside her, but she had long dreamed of the feeling of his hands through her hair. The only time she had experienced the feeling before had been the day he had cut all of it off. It had been quite the experience, certainly, and convenient in many many ways, but given his affection now, she vastly preferred this. 

He made quick work, weaving her hair into a rope, not as delicate or intricate as she might have done, but still, the fact that it was Percy doing the weaving, Percy tracing his fingers about the shape of the curls, Percy performing the act, made all the difference.

When he had finished, he tied it off with a leather strap, kissing at her hairline. “Please,” he murmured, “do not ever think that you are not the picture of wifely virtue in my eyes.”

A flattery, for Annabeth could not quite imagine what about her was the picture of wifely virtue--she had just insisted on wearing her husband's seed, for gods’ sake. She was neither deferential nor demure. She had broken his heart, and forced his hand, ripping him away from his life to deliver her halfway across the world, and then once more. Certainly he loved her. She knew that now, and could see it through their long years together. But to see her that way, when she felt so much like she failed as a wife, and could only now make it up to him with the full force of her devotion, was almost more than she could take. 

“When I have the best husband in the world,” she said, “to be a good wife is no great difficulty.” 

He paused and took her hand in his once again, kissing at her knuckles and then the palm, along a very old, once very deep scar. Then, her hand still in his, he led them out of the bedroom, and into their house. 

In some corner of her mind, she had expected just a little bit more of a reaction from the other members of the house. She thought the servants would have given them a suspicious look or two, or, at the very least, for Alexandros’ nurse to raise an eyebrow, yet neither strange word was spoken, nor odd look thrown their way as they walked their apartments, or sat down for their luncheon. In that state of utter normalcy, then, when they were done, they went to visit Alexandros.

Usually, Percy and Annabeth had often spent much of their time with their son alone, without their partner, as Percy was often at sea, and on his return, Annabeth rather felt she needed to leave them be, so that they could bond without any external influence on her part. Today, Alexandros sat between them, trading smiles with his father. They looked so alike, it warmed her heart. 

It always had, from his first moments, and even before, as she had been eager for her son to look like his papa, yet for the past year, there had been something of a painful edge to it, to the heavy knowledge that, while she had the love of her son, she did not have that of his father. It had been sweet and pure and perfect, yet bitter and cold as well. Now, however, as a family, real and whole and complete, she could not help but be overwhelmed with them both, with how much she loved them, and with the knowledge that they loved her in return. 

After an hour or so, in which Percy entertained her son with his menagerie of little animal toys, Alexandros turned to her, wide-eyed and innocent. “Mamma,” he said, grasping at her breast. “Mamma.”

“Are you hungry, my darling?” she asked, picking him up and taking him onto her lap, as she had dismissed his nurse when they’d come into the nursery. Now that he was on solid foods, he required less nursing on the whole, but his nursemaid also knew that Annabeth vastly preferred to do the deed herself, in something of a break with convention. She had not done so in the presence of Percy since Alexandros had been the smallest of newborns, on that ship, in the tightest, most unavoidable of quarters, and when they had reached Venice, and Nico had set them up at his house while they waited to find their own, Percy had left her alone to it. No longer bashful, she undid her lacings, and pulled down her chemise, and with very little effort, began to feed her son. 

Percy swept several of the toys aside, and came and sat with her on the little bench she held him on. 

“I am so happy,” he said, in a quiet voice, “that you have such a wonderful mamma, Alexandros. You deserve only the best--and you have received it.” 

She looked at him, and there were tears forming in his eyes. One like a crystal rolled down his cheek, and he made no move to hide it, or pretend it was not there. Percy was not usually one to weep--that was more her own purview, to her great chagrin--but she was pleased to see how he presented no shame at the thought of revealing his emotions. Good, bad, towering, subtle, a crashing wave or a gentle tide, after years of being deprived of his feelings through her own foolish actions, at last, she had them once again. 

“I love you,” she said again, unthinkingly, though she must have repeated the sentiment a thousand times before in the last few hours. She had wasted many a year by denying them both the truth, and so, she vowed, she would never withhold it again.

He smiled, face wet like the morning mist off the shore, moving closer, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, kiss to her brow. “And I, you.”

The day proceeded as naturally as possible from there, though they did not return Alexandros to the care of his nanny until the hour had grown quite late. Watching Percy hold him, as their little boy drifted to sleep in his arms, she was loath to part with such a wonderful picture. 

They laid him in his bed together, then, as soon as they had closed the door behind them, Percy picked her up, clear off the ground. She shrieked as she suddenly found herself in his clutches, though she knew it to be the safest of all possible places. “What are you doing?” she gasped, breathless with laughter.

“Holding what I cherish as close as I can,” he said, a touch dramatic, and swept her off to her bedroom. 

“You lovesick fool!” she cried, giggling as he practically bounded through the halls.

The moment the door had closed behind him, he dropped her on their bed, nearly ripping her veil right off of her head. 

“Please, take care--I happen to quite like the stitching on that one,” but he stopped her chiding in its tracks as he wound his fingers through her hair, dislodging handfuls of it from its braid, and pulling her mouth to his. 

“You have punished me long enough, I think,” he smirked, “and now I shall have my revenge.” 

His revenge was the sweetest kind. 

With a gentle hand, much lighter than she had expected, he unwound her hair, and, picking up her comb from where he had set it down earlier, went about brushing it out, the slow, sweet process of removing his leavings from their earlier intimacies. 

She winced as he pulled on a particularly knotty section. Of the many pains and indignities she’d suffered, her hair being tugged by her husband was not terribly high on any sort of list, though she was a bit theatrical about it. 

“A thousand pardons, my love,” Percy said. 

Oh, Annabeth could hear him say it a hundred times, and she did not think she would ever tire of those words. She had no wish to abandon their old, childish names for each other, but adorations such as these filled her with a lightness she had never known. 

“I shall need a thousand more” she said, “as you should not have spread your seed so liberally. Going forward, we shall have to clean it more quickly.” 

“I will endeavor not to pain you so,” he replied as he moved all her hair aside, planting a hot string of kisses along her neck that caused her to question the sincerity of such statements. Then, taking up a jug, he poured a bit more water on the hardened curls, reapplying the comb. 

“See that you do,” she said, “and that, in the future, you shall place your seed where it belongs.” 

“And where, pray tell, would that be?” 

He leaned in again to suck at the junction of her neck and shoulder and she moaned at the feeling, bringing her own hand to her center, rubbing lightly, before it grew to be too much, and she pulled away from him turning around to face him properly. 

Lifting her skirts to sit astride his lap, she said, “It belongs inside of me.” 

Wrapping one hand around the curve of his shoulder, she snaked the other between them, down to his breeches. And squeezed. 

“Yes.” he breathed, hot and heavy. 

“Oh, yes,” she agreed, short and clipped, trying to force her own breathless desire down for just a moment longer, “for if you do not spill inside of me, how am I to give you more sons?”

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back. 

Not far, not out of her arms, but away. All lust faded from her, replaced with concern. 

“You do not have to give me a single thing,” he said earnestly, raising a hand, and tracing her cheek with a sword-callused finger. 

“What?”

Sincerely, far more sincerely than his earlier promise of decorum, he brushed a stray curl from her face. “You have given me more than any man deserves--yourself, and our son. Please, please, my love, my dearest dearest Ana Zabeta, do not ever think I would ask any more of you.” 

His words took a moment to sink in, but when they did, they strung with the bitter bite of a poison dagger. “You… do not want any other children, then?” she asked, attempting to keep her voice level, her face calm, her pulse slow. 

“Do not think me to be so greedy,” he said. “My love, do not think I would put you through such pain and fear again. I have our son, and I have you. My only desire is for your health and happiness.” 

“But…” She knew not what to say, how to argue against this. If he truly wanted no more children, if Alexandros was to be their only one-- 

He went on, beseeching. “Yet do not despair, for I can love and pleasure you in a hundred ways which shall carry no risk. I can give you everything you desire, and you shall never want for my affection and my care.” 

“But I do desire more children.” It sounded petulant to her own ears, but, there was no other way to express the force of her wants. “Alexandros is perfect, his father is perfect--how can I not wish for more? Faced with such perfection, how can I not dream of growing our family, our home, our love?” 

He looked at her, his handsome features marred by hesitation and fear. “I… could not bear to lose you, Anja,” he said, softly, achingly gentle. “I only just got you. I almost lost you so many times before, either to monsters or to years of silly arguments and pointless squabbling. I almost lost you to pregnancy last time.” His voice shook as he spoke. “I, too, would love more children, but not if it carries any risk to you. You are too precious to me,” he breathed, tracing his fingers over her skin, so careful. So wonderful. “I could not bear it if anything happened to you.” 

She leaned over, kissing his cheek, small, quiet tears at the corner of her vision. His pains were so clearly evident, for her and caused by her, all at once. “It will not be so dangerous as you imagine,” she said, hoping to put him at some kind of ease. “By some great fortune, Will is here. Not only is he the greatest healer in the world, he has magic: ambrosia and nectar and all sorts of potions and pastes.”

But she could not dismiss his concerns entirely. Bringing Alexandros into this world had been a frightening experience, her fear and terror lingering even for months afterwards, slow to fade.

“I will freely admit it is not without any risk,” she said, after a moment, “but we have taken so many risks together, for us and for others. We have faced only the greatest of dangers, dangers that our mortal peers could never even dream of in their darkest, most terrible thoughts. Let us face this smaller danger together, with all the comfort of our house, and all the safety of the good doctor. And,” she grasped the hand that still rested on her face, and pulled it away, bringing it to rest on her belly, “think of the reward.” 

He swallowed, casting his gaze downward. “It would be great,” he murmured, reverent, speaking before an altar.

“The greatest,” she promised. “I can give you more sons, each one greater than the last.” 

“And daughters?”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I--” He flushed. “Well--if I am permitted, then, to indulge in greed…” He pulled his hand off her belly, taking hers and bringing it to his lips, kissing it, just as he had over two years ago in Athens, when they had sworn an end to their hostilities, speaking faster, and with greater intent. “Whenever I thought of a family for us, I always dreamt of a daughter, of your daughter, a little girl with all of her mother’s spirit, intelligence, and cunning, her strength of heart and her wickedness with a dagger.” 

“I see.” It had not even occurred to her. A daughter, yes, in passing, those things happened, but that Percy might wish it so strongly… “Yes,” she nodded. “We can work towards that, as well.” 

He slid a hand around her back, bringing her even closer, her chest flush against his clavicle, desire and worship in equal measure in the heat of his eyes. “Then let me give you as many sons and daughters as you wish, my love,” he whispered, a rumble in his chest she could better feel, rather than hear. “Let me see as many legacies of Athena as I can provide take Venice by storm.” 

And with that, he pulled her down onto the bed with him. 

 ***

 “I hate the lost years,” he whispered into her skin, “but the truth of the matter is that I could not have made you a good husband when we were young.”

“Of course you would have,” she said, breathless, her mind mostly on his hands as they combed up her flanks. His skill with his tongue, his hands, his cock, it all had to be innate.

Still stroking her tender, he said, apologetic. “I had no means to support a wife. I still have no means to support a wife. It is only due to a sheer stroke of luck that you possess enough means for the both of us.”

“I have looked at the accounts,” she pointed out. “In just two voyages you have earned back nearly all of our investment. Within a year, you and Nico will be clear and settled. You support your wife and your child quite well.” 

She’d almost said ‘children,’ but she did not wish to curry his excitement just yet. The midwife had not been so sure, and given Annabeth a whole host of other potential maladies.

Will had said it was not any of those things, but told her to feel for the quickening, and then they might all know for sure.

"You support us,” Percy said, “I merely work to make sure your money goes far. I do not mind,” he sat up, assuring, “It is not a question of some manly pride on my part. I am so very happy that you and Alexandros are so well cared for, and that you care for me, as well. That it must all fall to you, however, and that without our journey to Svealand, I would not be able to see you taken care of as you deserve, is what irks me so.”

“But I am,” she said, “I am well taken care of by you.”

His smile was too small and sad for such a happy conversation. “I love you with more passion than I believe some know to be possible,” he said, simply, “and I hope I take care of you in many ways. I pray that I am a worthy steward of your money, and that I represent you well when I use it on both of our behalf. Yet I must never forget it was you who brought such an asset into our marriage. We would have had nothing after the war with the titans, and I would have hated that.”

"I would have had you,” she told him, equally as simply. 

What a sweet thought! How they might have grown together in that time! How many children mind they have, now, if they had not gotten in their own way!  

“I would have worked my hardest to be worthy of you,” he said, all the earnestness of youth clear on his face, “but I fear you would have only ended up with the least eligible man in all of Constantinople.”

She laughed at his little jest.

He did not laugh with her.

Her laughter trailed off at his confused look.

By the gods, he was serious. 

“Need I remind you,” she said, “that you were the most eligible man in all of the agoge.”

“I was no such thing,” he said. “When my lack of any kind of material advantages showed, all women but you were rightfully scared away.”

Annabeth stared at him. This man. Her husband, father of her son, love of her life. A great hero, a brilliant strategist, the person she’d want with her in battle over all else.

And, she sometimes remembered, the occasional fool.

“Do you know how much effort I spent, Percy, seducing women away from you?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Oh yes.” And what a time that had been. “Most of the girls of our little village had their own money, you know. Katya had some truly wonderful land, I was told, and Tora’s father was simply dripping in silks and spices.”

“You… seduced them?”

“I did indeed,” Annabeth said, easy and straightforward. “I distracted them, made them think that a man would not be worth their troubles compared to the passion I could provide.”

It had not, precisely, been much of a chore. They had been beautiful women, all, vivacious and full of life. Clarice and Silena had been her own choices, of course, sweet childhood romances while she’d mulled over her feelings for Percy, but the women whom she’d engaged so they might direct their attentions away from the man she loved had proven to be sweetly entertaining nonetheless.

“You romanced Katya and Tora to get them away from me?” His eyes were wide, the blush in his cheeks winding its way down his chest, roses in bloom.

“Not just them,” she said. “Between our journey through the labyrinth and the great war, I must have bedded… oh, half the children of Aphrodite--save Silena, of course, who was too enraptured by Carlo by then. And then a few others.” It was truly a wonder she had not garnered something of a terrible reputation. Truly, the children of the gods were an enlightened few, unburdened by arbitrary rules. “You were quite the catch.”

He blinked again, his gaze very far off. “You must have been… very distracting.” 

His voice hitched, and she realized he might have been picturing it.

“Oh yes,” she nodded. “I was quite the distraction.” Leaning in close, she trailed a line of kisses from his jaw up to his ear. She liked the rough stubble against her lips, a feeling she’d only ever known from Percy. She’d long loved women, their smooth skin and sweet faces and musical voices, as friends and partners both, but she loved Percy, too. “Would you like to hear about it, my love? Would you like the stories of the women I seduced, so I could have you all to myself?” she whispered into his ear.

He whined, marvelously, his breath shuddering in his chest.

She would not give him all the stories today, as she had many to share. Before he went back out to sea, however, she would give him a few.

 ***

 “Do not think,” Annabeth said, attempting crossness even as she lounged on their bed, “that I shall allow you to continue to put off your voyage this way.”

“Think you so little of me?” She could sense him attempting crossness as well, though he was far less accomplished at it than she was. “Which one of us can control the waves, again?”

“And which one of us has put off the extraordinarily lucrative Genoese shipment for the last two months?” she countered.

Percy shrugged one shoulder, jostling the bowl of olives awkwardly held in the crook of his arm, though he had remained in that position for at least an hour, now. “Giovanni does not require my assistance to move a few silks and spices ‘round the country. L’Imperatrice is in good hands, I promise you,” he said, plucking a fruit from the bowl and feeding it to her.

L’Imperatrice--the Empress. That he had named his flagship after the little canoe which had carried them together through to the ends of the earth, which had taken her name from Percy’s private little fantasy, it sent her heart on a strange little dance.

Annabeth should have been cross with him, truly. In all considerations of the situation, to defer and delegate such an important shipment to his mortal second-in-command who did not possess even a tenth of Percy’s skill with the waves in order to spend time with his pregnant wife, rubbing her feet and hand-feeding her olives, was a poor business decision. She should have been cross, yet, doted upon and loved and with a belly full of his children, she simply could not bring herself to feel anything less than perfect bliss, neither anger, nor irritation, nor even a passing annoyance. 

Yes, children. Will, the poor man whom they kept poaching away from the Conte di Angelo,  suspected it to be two. Her treasures were many, and multiplying. 

She moved her body, just a little, repositioning herself on the soft bed. Though her pregnancy had been rather a dull affair, all things considered, as compared to the previous one, some things, unfortunately, had remained constant.

“Still,” she said, as she refused to give up quite so easily, “please do promise me that you shall go down to the docks to at least speak with the man before he departs.”

“I suppose I could,” he tilted his head, considering.

She narrowed her eyes. Having seen and catalogued all possible configurations of his handsome face by now, there was virtually no possible way to construe this one as sincere.

“Or,” he said, a lascivious grin crossing his face, his free slowly, agonizingly slowly, tracing random patterns on her shift and her skin, sauntering ever so vaguely downwards. “Or, I could spend the afternoon doing something infinitely more… appetizing, shall we say, than speaking to Giovanni.”

Percy, the absolute rapscallion, even had the audacity to lick his lips.

Damn him. Her sense memory was far too strong to resist.

It was only a matter of time before she gave in. She knew it, he knew it--to argue otherwise would only be prolonging the inevitable, driving their lusts higher and higher with impatience and anticipation.

So, then, she decided to prolong it a little.

She hummed, tapping her chin with a finger. “Allow me to think on it for a moment or two.”

“Of course, my love,” he murmured, his voice already deep and warm, the quality it only took on during activities such as these. His fingers had transported themselves from her collarbone and clavicle to the skin of her shin, dancing and tapping at the edge of her shift, occasionally crossing underneath the hem. “You shall have all the time you require.”

Tap, tap, tap, a maddening little dance he played on the bumps and ridges of her knee, so distracting she could not even focus on pretending to be uninterested, her hips moving of their own accord, ever so slightly.

As it happened, she did not require nearly as much time to decide as she had thought she would.

And she did not even mind terribly when the bowl of olives, overturned and spilled in haste, ended up on the floor.

 ***

 For weeks, Annabeth had been dreading the birth. Twice the children, twice the trouble, she had thought, and given just how dangerous the last one had been, she had been wracked with nerves for days. Not even Percy’s presence, warm and soothing and solid, could chase away her fears.

Though, at the very least, there was no danger of Percy accidentally raising another typhoon.

“Much simpler than last time, no?” Will had commented in Greek, attending to Annabeth while he had his assistant wrap the babies. “I was, at the very least, expecting some sort of earthquake to send the city plunging into the lagoon.”

Percy chuckled at the good-natured jest, far past the point of chagrin. “To have you here the whole time has put me much at ease, Dottore,” he said. “If you are certain there is nothing more I can do for you as repayment--”

But he waved Percy off, wiping down an instrument. “Think nothing of it. I am always glad to assist old friends.”

“Scusatemi, signora,” said his assistant, timidly, holding the newest members of their family in her arms. She had been somewhat scandalized when Percy had not made himself scarce during the birthing process, as was customary for menfolk, and though she had not been outwardly cold to him, or anything less than professional, Annabeth could sense she was still in something of a state of shock. “I tuoi infanti--un bambinetto e una bambinetta.” 

Having already assisted Annabeth into a sitting position, Percy relieved her of one child, passing it to his wife, then took for himself the other. She had received the bambinetto, the little boy, curly wisps of blond hair nearly invisible against his skin. Just as Alexandros had been, he was beautiful, tiny and wrinkled, yet sublime in his smallness, in the little hands which curled into fists, in the slow, sleepy blink of his gray eyes as he first ever beheld the light, beheld his mother’s face. 

Loving Percy had been an unexpected surprise, something for which she had neither predicted nor planned. Loving Alexandros had been something of a foregone conclusion, a soothing balm to her then-broken heart, and she had feared she would not have enough room in her soul for her son, so taken was she with his father, unwilling to exchange one for the other. Loving this little boy, however, and his sister, would be the simplest thing in the world. 

She turned to her husband, pleased to see the look of awe and delight on his face. “Well, kærasti? How fares you now, now that I have given you a daughter?”

So enraptured, it was as if he had not heard her.

The door opened then, with a creak, a small, dark-haired shape toddling his way in, past the reaching hand of his caretaker. “Mamma!” he cried. “Mamma!”

“Accidenti,” muttered the Conte di Angelo, standing in the doorway. “A thousand apologies, Annabeth, but your little… child… could not be contained.”

She laughed. “Worry not--I have heard more than a few similar such sentiments from his nanny.”

Clumsily, lacking all grace, Alexandros clambered up onto the bed, making to crawl towards his mother, until he was stopped by the nigh impassable barrier of Percy’s outstretched leg. “Careful, careful,” Percy said, sweetly. “Your mamma is resting.”

All wide eyes and curiosity, he crept even closer, his mouth hanging open in a child’s confusion, as doctor, midwife, and count exited the room, in the periphery of her vision.

“Angele mou,” she murmured, “would you like to meet your brother?”

He did not respond, not so old yet that he possessed the gift of uninhibited communication, but he did peer, curiously, at the small thing in his mother’s arms. 

If she cast her mind back, Annabeth could not quite recall the first time she had ever met her brothers. Buried beneath the dirt and rubble of time and more pressing matters, she tried to remember if she had been excited to become an older sibling, to have some sort of sororal responsibility for her father’s new wife. Her situation had been quite different, of course; she had been old enough to comprehend what was taking place, and too clever by far for her to not feel some resentment, and in a fit of terror and rage, had taken flight into the unknown. 

Alexandros, perhaps, did not yet understand the matter, could not quite understand that these two little things were now his family, that his mama’s love and his papa’s attention would no longer be solely focused upon him. 

“This is your brother, Lukas,” she told him, the name she and Percy had agreed upon, a bygone memory of a friend and brother who had taken care of them both, and risen above all his failures in the end. “Can you say hello?”

“Loo-kas,” he said, reaching out a pudgy hand.

“Very good!” She was charmed far too easily by her children, but she simply could not help herself--it was far too sweet an image. “And that,” she said, indicating her husband beside her, “is your sister.”

If Percy could even conceive of a world outside of his daughter, now, he showed no indication of it, barely even moving when Alexandros made his way over to him, grasping onto his shoulder for balance. 

Hushed, she asked him, “Percy? Have you chosen a name for her?”

They had spent weeks agonizing over names for their newborns. Names had power, they knew intimately, and had to be chosen with great care. When it was determined she would be having twins, they had each agreed to choose one child’s name, to be shared with their partner, or kept a surprise. Percy knew the names for which she had a distinct distaste, and so she was not concerned he would choose something she truly hated, but she was quite curious. 

His gaze, green and glassy, was fixed on his daughter, a single tear falling down his cheek, his throat working as he summoned the will to speak. “Anja,” he murmured.

“Yes, my love?”

He turned to her then, his mouth trembling, the sunrise of his joy breaking on his face, warm and brilliant. “Her name is Anja.”

If her heart were any more full, it would burst right out of her chest.

“Then, if you are able to part with her, I believe Anja,” her voice hitched as she spoke the name aloud, the name of the little girl with blonde hair and gray eyes and all of her father’s love, “is in need of a little food.”

Percy nodded, bringing his little Anja to his lips, and laying a soft kiss on her blonde head.

Carefully, then, he passed her to Annabeth, making sure she was well situated in her mother’s arms, then he brushed a hand over Lukas’s head, as softly and tenderly as he could. This man could fight and kill, lead armies and win wars. His blood was that of the earth-shaker, the vengeful, the violent, who cursed and doomed any who would harm his children. Yet here he was, the absolute gentlest of fathers.

Little Alexandros, sweet thing, was drooping, sleepiness over taking his frame. Plucking him up, Percy transferred him to his other arm, so that he could be even closer to her, tucking Alexandros beneath one arm, and Annabeth beneath the other, his fingers playing with the ends of a curl or two. 

The lord of the sea could never be so soft, cradling Sarah and a baby Percy, nor the lady of war so affectionate, cuddling with Fredrik while they looked on their little Anja. All children of the gods emulated their parents, in ways both great and small, proliferated year after year, generation after generation, all their mistakes reborn alongside the heroes and the monsters and the stories. Yet, sometimes, they could break free of it. A daughter of Athena and a son of Poseidon could learn to trust each other, to love each other, to end the mighty rivalry of the heavens--and thus, in this way, they were already better than their parents, like the words of the old poet. 

Yes, she thought, as Anja and Lukas took their food, as Alexandros fell asleep in the crook of his father’s arm, as Percy stroked her hair, the thump of his heartbeat beneath her shoulder, beautifully, breathlessly mortal. Yes, they were better, by far.

[booksociety]

Book Society presents its August reading event! As selected by the members, this month's theme is All By Myself. To clarify the cryptic title, this event is all about standalone books! We invite you to indulge in one or more of our personal recommendations listed below and discover the magic for yourself. We also encourage you to revisit a standalone that holds a special place in your heart and spread the love by recommending it to others. Please note that series, collections, and companion books do not apply, so try to pick a book that shines on its own! This event is open to everyone, not just our members.

✧ how to participate:

optional: reblog this post; check out our network and members

read (or reread) a standalone book recommended by one of our members, or reread a standalone that you consider a personal favourite; there is no book of the month for this event

share what book you’ve chosen, thoughts, reactions, and/or creations

use the tag #booksociety in your posts, and include “@booksociety’s All By Myself Event: [insert book title here]” in the description of your creations

the event starts on 1 August and ends on 31 August

✧ reading recommendations (under the cut):

A Concise Chinese English Dictionary for Lovers by Xiaolu Guo (Violeta's pick; ownvoices, romance, contemporary; 354 pages)

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness (Kahlia's pick; young adult, fantasy, fiction, horror; 237 pages)

Airman by Eoin Colfer (Chloe's pick; young adult, historical fiction, fantasy; 424 pages)

All the Crooked Saints by Maggie Stiefvater (Megan's pick; young adult, fantasy, fabulism; 320 pages)

All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr (Gina's pick; adult, historical fiction; 531 pages)

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie (Jo's pick; mystery, crime, thriller; 264 pages)

Beyond the Black Door by A.M. Strickland (Anniek's pick; young adult, fantasy; 400 pages)

Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente (Nana's pick; new adult, fantasy, retelling, historical; 352 pages)

Empress: The Astonishing Reign of Nur Jahan by Ruby Lal (Tejal's pick; nonfiction, historical, biography; 336 pages)

Field Notes on Love by Jennifer E. Smith (Celina's pick; young adult, contemporary, romance; 271 pages)

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (Beth's pick; classic, horror, scifi; 335 pages)

From Lukov with Love by Mariana Zapata (Isabel's pick; new adult, contemporary, romance; 493 pages)

Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust (Kat's pick; young adult, fantasy, retelling, lgbt+; 384 pages)

Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (Hazel's pick; adult, fantasy, historical; 338 pages)

I Was Born for This by Alice Oseman (Lu's pick; young adult, contemporary, lgbt+; 396 pages)

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver (Claire's pick; young adult, contemporary, romance, lgbt+; 329 pages)

I'll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson (Teona's pick; young adult, contemporary, fiction, lgbt+; 371 pages)

If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio (Ania's pick; adult, mystery, dark academia; 368 pages)

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan (Cas's pick; young adult, fantasy; 437 pages)

Into the Blue by Pene Henson (Nickie's pick; new adult, contemporary, romance, lgbt+; 236 pages)

Macbeth by William Shakespeare (Sari's pick; classic, play, tragedy; 124 pages)

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (Mel's pick; classic, romance; 279 pages)

Providence by Caroline Kepnes (Kate's pick; adult, thriller, romance, mystery, paranormal, 367 pages)

Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston (Scarlett's pick; new adult, romance, contemporary, lgbt+; 421 pages)

Seven Endless Forests by April Genevieve Tuckolke (Denal's pick; young adult, adventure, fantasy; 352 pages)

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn (Franzi's pick; adult, thriller, mystery; 254 pages)

Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson (Melissa's pick; young adult, fantasy; 453 pages)

Steel Crow Saga by Paul Krueger (Sut's pick; new adult, fantasy, lgbt+; 528 pages)

Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid (Josie's pick; contemporary; 307 pages)

Summer of Salt by Katrina Leno (Caroline's pick; young adult, fabulism, lgbt+; 288 pages)

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (Rachelle's pick; young adult, historical; 552 pages)

The Henna Wars by Adiba Jaigirdar (Isha's pick; young adult, contemporary, lgbt+; 400 pages)

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (Sabrina's pick; children, classic, fantasy; 93 pages)

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (Mi's pick; adult, fantasy, romance, historical; 391 pages)

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah (Rina's pick; adult, historical fiction, war; 440 pages)

The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater (Camille's pick; young adult, fantasy; 409 pages)

The Secret History by Donna Tartt (Tara's pick; adult, mystery, dark academia; 559 pages)

The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton (Anna's pick; adult, mystery; 512 pages)

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid (Paula's pick; adult, historical, romance, lgbt+; 391 pages)

The Silver Dark Sea by Susan Fletcher (Joyce's pick; adult, contemporary, fantasy, fiction; 436 pages)

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller (Marisa's pick; adult, historical, mythology, retelling, romance, lgbt+; 352 pages)

The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix (Sage's pick; adult, horror, paranormal; 400 pages)

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern (Kalli's pick; adult, fantasy, lgbt+, romance; 498 pages)

The Unexpected Everything by Morgan Matson (Alex's pick; young adult, contemporary, romance; 519 pages)

This is Going to Hurt: Secret Diary of a Junior Doctor by Adam Kay (Ral's pick; non-fiction, memoir, humor; 256 pages)

To Catch a Pirate by Jade Parker (Vee's pick; young adult, historical fiction, romance, pirates; 230 pages)

We Are Okay by Nina Lacour (Lizz's pick; young adult, contemporary, lgbt+; 236 pages)

[caroline-nighthunter]

-Rating and gushing about every Wizard101 “World”/Arc-  

Imma just gush about my month of Wizard101 and how I finally got to a close “end” of the game.

24/12 Edit: Fixed some typos here and there and added some stuff.

07/09 Edit: KI decided to fully revamp Wiz city also changing some lore so the rating on that is outdated. Might also put my thought of the new Wiz City there once I’m through all the new content.

Arc 1 - Malistaire - 10/10

Prob my favourite.

The writing really ties in every world, even when you speedquest through it.

Contains a lot of my favourite worlds.

I’m still crying over Mali to this day...

(Old) Wizard City - 10/10

Literally the introduction to the game and the place I spent most of my time in when I was a crownless and membershipless young wizard.

Do you want to farm Nightshade or Kraken?

That graphic revamp really punched.

Fave Places To chill: Nightside, Commons, Ravenwood, Cyclops Lane

Krokotopia - 11/10

This world made me fall in love with Wizard101

Egyptian aesthetic o-o

I was once a balance wizard you know?

Cries over the plot in the tomb of storms

Also KROKODILES

Fave Places To chill: Krokosphinx, School Of Balance

Marleybone - 10/10

I liked the Wizard version, but the Pirate version is more my jam.

Everyone is lookin dapper.

Home of the Doc- I mean Professor!

The whole worlds feels like Cats, but with dogs and the plot is Sherlock Holmes.

Barkingham Palace Gear o-o

Fave Places To chill: The Museum. 

Mooshu 7/10

Japan and China vibes

Your usual warlord chaos

Everything is BRIGHT GREEN

It felt  S H O R T

Has pretty nice wand drops

Fave Places To chill: Jade Palace

Dragonspyre 12/10  

This is what you get when you throw Roman aesthetic, Prussian History and a pinch of Russia into a pot.

The amount of subtle history references is making me listen to every line of dialogue I can get from this world.

D R A G O N S

Milos Bookwyrm is kinda a darlin

We kill Mali here :’)

Fave Places To chill: The Atheneum, wherever my battle drake chills

Arc 2 - Morganthe - 9/10

Has nice spots here and there.

Writing is still good, but a little less engaging.

Morganthe was so over the top “bad bitch” that it got annoying

Grandpappy spider was the saving grace of the arc

Celestia - 8/10

Solid world, story was kinda meh

ASTRAL MAGIC

Is this Skull Island??? Why are there water moles??? I thought they only exist in Skull Island????

Basically Atlantis

WAND OF STASIS

Fave Places To chill: Watermole Village

Zafaria - 8/10

Jambo Wizard!

The plot is Belloq and crazy tse-tse zebra ruining everyones day.

All they wanted was a nice zafari, all they got was misery and running into Morganthe worshippers.

Flameingo can’t take it anymore...

“Son I’m disappointed”

Fave Places To chill: Baobab Crown

Avalon - 9/10

Love it, but something is missing?

King Arthur, but you’re Arthur.

How to become a knight 101

FINALLY I CAN GET DEER KNIGHT

The source of Morganthes saltiness

Everyone is prob scared of me because I rode a battle badger during my stay...

Fave Places To chill: Caliburn

Azteca - 9.5/10

Hello and Bye...

I will never be able to do casual side questing here anymore...

The plot was nice, but you know, IRREVERSIBLE DAMAGE WAS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED

Do not speedquest through this if you are a plot person, DO NOT

Cries over birb and dinosaur friends...

The music was the best part of it.

Fave Places To chill: N o w h e r e  a f t e r  t h a t  d a r n  m e t h e o r i t e, almost everywhere before that

Khrysalis - 9.8/10

L O O O O O N G

It was to be expected though

Mouse Guard vibes

The furniture sets for this suck and there is no proper furniture to obtain otherwise...

One Wizard Army (with the help of some deer friends) pls do not kill me for my bad word puns

I’d feel bad about how Morganthe ended, but after Azteca I really don’t have anything left for that whiny bitch...

A lot of people want my head...

Hello there hand- I mean hello there Spider.

Captain Colridge, if you had a pegleg I’d be 100% sure you’re ratbeard gone out of shape.

I love the dynamic changes to the Bastion once you progress

SHADOW MAGIC no one uses though because it’s not worth the pips and time 

Fave Places To chill: Last Woods 

Arc 3 - Spider And Raven - 6/10

Had solid concepts, kinda threw them out of the window

I do not like the writing in a majority of the arc

I think I was so disappointed, because I hyped these worlds up so much, the expectations did not meet reality

The ending was a no no

Plot was barely engaging

I only pushed through this for the concepts of Mirage and Polaris and wanted to see where Grandpappy Spider went

Polaris - 7/10

WAY TOO SHORT

You spent half of the time in the arcanum anyway

I don’t like Mellori, but that is just me

REVOLUTION TIME!

I don’t like that we had to throw a ship worth of fish into the sea, although they apparently still live? Somehow?

Everyone was at full right to overthrow the Empress though, she was horrible.

Where is Napoleguin???

RA RA RATSPUTIN, LOVER OF- wait  w h a t ? ? ?

I don’t like the Arcanum, but I guess I’ll be a part of it.

Fave Places To chill: Walruskberg, Captain Colridges Tavern 

Mirage - 6.5/10

The more you hype, the more you’ll be disappointed...

Again the Spider part of the plot was good, the other was  e h

If I’m going to have to talk to another snobby over the top whiny cat I’m going to lose it.

Boochbeard, where is Mr. Gandry?

Bara Snakes.

Istar stop whining about bugs.

Ozzy you’re my best bud in this.

House themed GEAR, APARTMENTS and MOUNTS, but you gotta defeat a 100 enemies before that...

Love the world design though

THE MAGIC CARPET RIDE

Fave Places To chill: Caravan, anywhere you can wander through endless sand

Empyrea 4/10

This is what happens when you throw too many things together

S t a r  T r e k 

Medulla shut up

The idea to have an isle in the eye of a storm is cool though

Zanadu was kinda meh (prob because I remember most of it just happening in a sewer)

That dance session though, Khan rocks

The dwarfes were also kinda meh, just didn’t fit with the concepts of the previous areas 

Cthulu island was also kinda meh

Ending of the first half was literally Batman and although I know “The Bat” and “The cabal” it kinda came out of nowhere...

And then I pretty much lost interest in the world

The Reverie got me again, nice and fresh mechanics.

I will make a seperate rant on the ending, but no... I don’t like it at all and I don’t see Spider forgiving Raven as a good ending

Felt really forced

Hit some bad spots with me...

I thought we could fight Raven??? >:O

Fave Places To chill: Reverie

Arc 4 - idk what is going on

Karamelle ?/10

Ja moin, guten Tag allerseits.

Haven’t gotten there yet, but man, I’m not up for dictator Nana... :T

Spells look pathetic o k

If you try denglish one more time I’m going to lose it

At this point it’s obvious that KI has a thing for german speaking countries related stuff

Sentinel Marshmallows, do I have to say more? 

Other Worlds

Grizzleheim - 8/10

Vikings

Forshadowing of Raven

It’s ok

Grendleweed

Wintertusk - 8/10

Even more Vikings

Grizzleheim 2.0, but everyone is op and crits

You need the spells, but you don’t want to do it

It’s been too long since I’ve last been there

Wysteria - 9/10

The original snob

At least these weren’t a pain to listen to...

Incompetent teachers make incompetent students.

That hall of fame though.

Actually a nice world to quest through

The aesthetic is nice and they kinda got the cooler library compared to Ravenwood, unless I’m missing out on something.

Fave Places To chill: The library

Aquila - 10/10

Birbs

Was a pain in Pirate, is wonderful in Wiz

SKY IRON HASTA

Secret bosses you seldom find people to fight with

Everyone is salty that you’ve beated them and they don’t even try to hide.

Hades got the best estate.

Cerberus was cute until he became a set of floating heads.

Fave Places To chill: Tartarus

Darkmoor - 9.5/10

“Who hits?” - “Everyone” - *person who asked decides to leave the dungeon*

This happened to me 7 times in a row an U G H

People need to calm down their hitter ego

The dungeons are fun the first times, then they are just an annoyance to farm.

Plot is the Ballad Lenore

GO TO REST MALI

Hit in 5 rounds or say bye bye to your blades

No Feints

Catacombs 11/10

D r a g o n s p y r e  L o r e

Valencia, what are you doin there?

Basically KI’s punch in the face of Pirate101 players

“Oh you want an update? Guess you gotta watch how we recycle Valencia in Wiz”

Dragoon gear - Just like Darkmoor, but this time your suffering has a certain end

Also no exp on your quests?

[margridarnauds]

I know you prefer a-cast, but what are some pros to buying m-cast instead? There's a bit of a war going on abt which is better. I heard m-cast is better bc the cast is more senior and experienced, but I don't know what to believe. Is a-cast or m-cast just a taste thing, or is it abt smthing else? Would you mind making a chart or smthing for the pros and cons of both versions? Maybe ratings per category? I know you have a preference, but I just think you are quite nuanced. Thanks in advance!

I am very honored that you would think of me as someone who’s fair and nuanced! 

Before I begin, I’m going to say one thing that might or might not be considered....well. Very American of me, from the perspective of Japanese fandom: I do not believe, when it comes to spending the amount of money that these cost, on holding back information in order to appear diplomatic. I’ll try to be diplomatic, for the sake of people who might like anyone I criticize, but, also, if I dislike an aspect, I will try to find SOME way of making said displeasure known, because, again: The amount of money required to buy one DVD, let alone two, is quite a lot. I personally like to buy both, since it lets me compare and contrast, but my God, is it a bit of money (and this year, with the exception of the 2016 Elisabeth, I’ve had to cut down quite a bit while I’ve been abroad: I haven’t touched Frankenstein or Phantom...at least not yet.) 

Also, I am always willing to arrange streams of either/both casts, since this musical is my baby, so that anyone reading this now can see whether what I say is true or not, as well as in order to determine your own preferences. 

Alright, so that disclaimer out of the way, let’s start off: 

I kind of disagree that M cast is more experienced, as a whole. Let’s compare:

Marie  

Rena Sasamato (A Cast) - Had her debut when she was ten years old, in 1995. She is a Toho veteran with many, many musicals under her belt, including The Woman in White, Love Never Dies, Jekyll and Hyde, Les Miserables, West Side Story, Rudolf, Fiddler on the Roof, and, of course, the original 2006 production of Marie Antoinette, where she played Margrid Arnaud. 

Hanafusa Mari (M Cast) - Almost needs no introduction, such is the fame that she has. And I say this as a detractor. My personal feelings about her personality, acting, and singing aside, I can admit that Hanafusa Mari is a living legend in the Japanese musical industry. She certainly lives up to her title of “Empress”, in all senses of the term. She had her debut in 1991 (after, admittedly, undergoing the training of the Takarazuka Revue, so I will give her that she had experience beforehand, just not in acting and singing on stage), and remained there until 2006, when she retired in conjunction with her fellow top star, Yoka Wao. From 2010 onward, she appeared in non-Takarazuka roles, including my very first exposure to Japanese theatre, Dracula, in 2011. 

Now, of the two of them, I won’t deny that Hanafusa has more experience, however I also feel like saying that Rena has less experience is making it sound almost like she was some starving waif that Toho picked off the side of the streets in order to star in their new musical, as opposed to a seasoned actress in her own right who, on top of having an impressive number of musicals under her belt, also has experience in the musical itself. Hanafusa, when it comes down to it, only has four years’ more experience than Rena, though she is almost a decade older and undoubtedly, when she premiered, had more polish than 10 year old Rena. But, on the other hand, she DID remain with the Revue an impressively long time, which is very intense as far as how many musicals they perform on a yearly basis (most Top Musumeyaku only last about...2-3 years or so), she was the original Elisabeth in Takarazuka (a legendary role in its own right), and, my snark about her having the best career money can buy aside, I am willing to say that, for the most part, she’s earned her status as a legend. 

And I want to say that I’m not ripping YOU apart when I say this, I want to make that absolutely clear. You’re asking me a very good question, but it is something I tend to find quite a bit of when I talk Japanese musicals, in the sense that there is often this...assumption that actresses who started off in non-Takarazuka musicals (also a moment of silence for the Shiki actresses, who I almost never talk about but who are kicking ass as Disney Princesses) are somehow...lesser, or that they have less training. Takarazuka is and remains very prestigious, but it’s hardly the be-all, end-all of all musical theatre, and, in many ways, I would argue that Rena has more experience than Hanafusa, in terms of the world of Toho musicals, which require a different style of acting and singing: Less stylized, less affected, more what you would expect from a Broadway or West End show. It’s actually something that I find quite a few Takarazuka actresses struggle with when they come to Toho, as they have to adjust how they’ve done things for a new audience. 

Now, what does this have to do with the overall point? Well, a lot of people bought Marie Antoinette FOR Hanafusa to begin with, since she does have a huge following. I have seen plenty of people admit that they only bought it for her in the first place and didn’t bother with the other cast. I have even seen, in the past, people argue with me on the idea of a musical that DOESN’T have Hanafusa in it getting a proshot, simply because, for them, she IS the world of Japanese musical theatre. Coming from that perspective, of course Rena is less experienced, because she, simply put, isn’t Hanafusa. 

In terms of their overall presentation of the characters, I found that their respective training really impacted how they portrayed the characters: Rena played Antoinette as being very elegant, with a pride that could turn to haughtiness. It made for an Antoinette that is interesting in her own right to watch, which is tricky, since I find that Antoinettes tend to be overshadowed by the other characters, especially Margrid, Fersen, and Orléans. She did include certain aspects of a Takarazuka performance in her performance, since her mother was a Takarazuka star in her own right, such as how to properly use an 18th century fan, but, for the most part, I’m willing to say that she played it much more naturalistically. 

Hanafusa, meanwhile, emphasized the tragedy of Marie’s life. Throughout a decent portion of the musical, she can be seen crying, especially during the trial (which Rena played straightfaced, playing a Marie that is totally numbed by grief), and expresses her happy, joyful moments in a very exaggerated, almost forceful way, more what I would expect from a Zuka actress given that Zuka performances tend to emphasize extremes of sadness and happiness. (Keeping in mind, of course, that traditionally, it’s expected for musical/opera singers to act in an exaggerated way in order to be seen from the back.) If you are used to Hanafusa, then you’ll LOVE it, because she is very much there, and it’s very much what you’ve been accustomed to. She does show her training; she doesn’t miss a single note in the entire production, but I do find that, in this one area, her added age over Rena might be to her detriment, as I find that her voice has thinned somewhat with age, comparing her now to where she was in Dracula or during her Takarazuka days. Her vibrato also isn’t quite to my taste. Not BAD, but not for me. She isn’t UNPLEASANT to listen to, and again, if you are buying it to hear Hanafusa Mari’s voice, that is exactly what you’ll get, but I also do think the luster of it has faded.

So, in terms of overall ratings, here is what I would put them: 

Rena: 

Year of Debut: 1995

Acting: 9/10

Singing: 10/10

Hanafusa: 

Year of Debut: 1991

Acting: 4/10

Singing: 6/10

Margrid 

Sonim (A Cast) - Sonim’s history has been gone into detail here by my friend, @chibimyumi who, unlike me, has a native speaker’s understanding of Japanese (as opposed to getting lucky with Google Translate), so I’ll leave it to her. But, suffice it to say, Sonim had her musical debut about...2007 or so (she was involved in other stage projects, but for sanity’s sake I’m marking her appearance as Johanna in Sweeney Todd as her musical debut) after the idol industry decided to be cowards and kicked her out because she didn’t conform to their pretty pink princess dreams, was offered the title of Ogosho IMMEDIATELY upon her joining up with Toho, and, since then, has distinguished herself as one of their undisputed leading ladies. She has appeared, to my knowledge, on three proshots, two of which I own: Mozart, 1789, and Marie Antoinette, and has also appeared in Kinky Boots, Tanz der Vampire, FACTORY GIRLS, and Rent.  

Natsumi Kon (M Cast) - Natsumi Kon is, admittedly, also no slouch in the world of Japanese musical theatre: She had her debut in 2011, with the coveted role of Juliette Capulet in Romeo and Juliet, and has since been in Les Miserables, Grand Hotel, the Addams Family, The Fiddler on the Roof, and The Secret Garden, as well as being the voice actress for Belle in the 2017 Beauty and the Beast. She has been praised as essentially being “the next generation of the musical world”. 

By the same standard I’ve set re: Hanafusa and Rena, there isn’t THAT much in terms of their ages, since they have the same difference in debut time (though in this case, it’s in Sonim’s favor, and I also think that it’s much more dramatic in terms of younger musical performers as opposed to older ones.) 

I feel like, of the two of them, more people would have come for Sonim, since she is an Ogosho herself, being at the same level of ranking as Furukawa and Hanafusa. What I suspect, in fact, is that Toho, in a CLASSIC Toho move, split the cast that most people would have wanted, with Hanafusa, Furukawa, and Sonim, but I can’t confirm and, honestly, I feel like Hanafusa’s very expressive Antoinette would have clashed with Furukawa’s more aloof Fersen, but that will be dealt with down the line. As it is, M cast has Hanafusa, and A cast has two Ogosho-level performers for the price of one with Sonim and Furukawa. (Meaning that, on a purely technical level, it has the most starpower behind it.)

Sonim has a strong belt and has a reputation for playing scrappy girls, possibly because she herself easily qualifies as a bit of a “scrappy girl” herself. Her Margrid is bitter and cynical, not necessarily kind. The years on the streets have warped her into someone who is primarily motivated by herself and her own personal revenge. She uses “the people” as a self-justification to pursue her own vendetta, only realizing by the end what it’s done and cost her. She doesn’t care for social norms AT ALL, and would be the exact type of person that you would see on a tabletop counter at 2 AM, legs spread out, trying to stuff an entire pizza down her mouth. She’s distrustful, especially towards men and, even for those that she trusts, she has a low level of tolerance for. She is, frankly, a bit of a bitch. And I adore her for it, because it’s more realistic to what I think someone would be like after undergoing what she has. She’s a kind of female character we get relatively little of, really. I do think that, on a few occasions, Sonim perhaps outbelts herself here but, in general, I feel like it suits Margrid’s personality more. 

Natsumi Kon took a more tragic bent to the character. Her Margrid IS a good person, at heart, but she lets her desire for justice, along with her own revenge, steer her towards a course that just causes more suffering. She is more like an 18th century Eponine from Les Miserables, the street girl who, if she’d JUST had the upbringing that Antoinette had, could have been a great lady like her. She seems to play up the love triangle with Fersen more, getting a little closer to him at different times, giving him more longing looks, while also seeming to have...some sort of dynamic with Orléans, with the two of them often touching and laughing with one another. She does have a very smooth, strong voice, though I feel like, on some level, she has never quite escaped playing ingenues, and, rewatching it with a critical eye, I think that, as the musical continues, her voice starts getting a little breathy and strained. I don’t really know whether this is by intent or simply because of the musical being very vocally demanding for the Margrids, but I do think that, if Sonim overbelts at times at the beginning, Natsumi has some issues by the end; the notes aren’t coming out quite as clear or as strong as they should be. Her Margrid has a little bit more of a polish to her and, in general, seems a little younger and more naive compared to Sonim’s. I do give her credit for really being willing to go UP CLOSE to her fellow actors in stand-offs, giving her Margrid the sense of being a little bit of a bull in a China shop; during the duet that Marie and Margrid share, there’s one point where it seems like Natsumi is only INCHES away from her face. I know that it’s out of style to make Harry Potter analogies, but Sonim plays Margrid as a Slytherin; Natsumi as a Gryffindor. She didn’t do a BAD job as an actress, and in fact adds some nice touches to Margrid that I do like, but she doesn’t really do anything too new with the character. 

Now, why does THIS matter? Well, for one, I think that, if you go in expecting the best of everyone, Sonim’s Margrid can be like a dose of cold water. Natsumi is more...palatable. Less conflict, less difficult questions, especially since it becomes that much easier to separate Orléans-As-Villain from Margrid-As-Heroine.  

Overall: 

Sonim: 

Year of Debut: 2007 

Acting: 10/10

Singing: 9/10. 

Natsumi: 

Year of Debut: 2011

Acting: 8/10

Singing: 8/10

Fersen

Furukawa Yuta (A Cast) - Probably one of Toho’s most bankable male leads at the moment. His presence in a musical is generally a VERY good sign to me that Toho is planning on a proshot, since they know that fans will buy anything he’s in. (To illustrate: I wasn’t PLANNING on buying Marie Antoinette, I had more than my fair share of doubts after the disastrous German run, but then I saw Furukawa Yuta and Sonim were signed on and I promptly got both casts. Best insanely rash move I’ve ever made in my life.) He had his stage debut in 2007 with The Prince of Tennis series, and since then he’s played in the Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji) musicals, Elisabeth, 1789, Romeo and Juliet, and Mozart. Though he initially made his name with his dancing and acting abilities, along with his personal charisma, he has since worked on his singing, putting himself through Hell and back to earn his spot as Ogosho. While Mozart was his official debut, I would argue that, in some ways, it was as Fersen and then, later, Romeo that he REALLY got to demonstrate what made him star material. 

Mario Tashiro (M Cast) - Mario Tashiro, like Natsumi Kon, is absolutely no slouch either. He has a full, operatic voice that he uses to excellent effect, making him very recognizable even if you don’t know who exactly he is. Plenty of times, I’ll be listening to a trailer on Youtube and hear this BOOMING voice and go “MARIO TASHIRO?” He has been very prolific on the Toho scene, taking roles in Sunset Boulevard, Chess, Love Never Dies, Elisabeth (marking the first time in known history that Fersen is locked in a love triangle with Fersen for Marie Antoinette and then seduces Fersen’s son, Fersen), The Great Gatsby, Jekyll and Hyde, and Sweeney Todd, among others. 

In terms of approach, both men took very different approaches to their role. Furukawa played Fersen as much more aloof and distant, which makes for a contrast with Marie’s sunny, naive personality. He has a dry sense of humor and has a long-running cat and mouse game with Orléans where both understand, on some level, that they’re on equal ground. His love of Marie, while definitely a real, true love, is also very idealistic: Marie represents a world that, for Fersen, is slowly dying out, she represents the best part of humanity for him, especially after being gone during the war. I do not believe, looking at Furukawa’s Fersen, that he and Antoinette ever actually slept together, rather that it was very much a courtly love. He cares for Margrid, entreating her to have compassion, but there’s just enough wiggle room to wonder how MUCH of it is genuine VS him needing something from her at the time, and he’s very aware of his status as an aristocrat and makes use of it. It’s really unlike any other take on Fersen I’ve seen, in any media, and it’s part of why I ended up leaning towards this production, since it’s generally a MASSIVE feat to make me like Fersen. Furukawa’s voice in the role is softer, lacking the strength of Tashiro’s but still making for some very impressive low notes.

Mario Tashiro, on the other hand, focuses more on Fersen as a romantic hero, full of dash and daring. He has a notably dramatic take on Fersen, with flourishes and exaggerated movements, which, as an opera singer, are probably part and parcel of his acting training. If he’s aware of Orléans’ general presence, he doesn’t seem bothered by him, with their being really little sign that Orléans has any respect for him at all. He loves Marie as well, but it is much more of a sort of fairytale, Rose of Versailles love. There’s not as much moral gray areas to his Fersen, even though he makes the exact same decisions as Furukawa’s and, like Hanafusa Mari’s Marie, tends to go through extreme emotions. His voice was, as always, phenomenal, I give him full and complete credit for it, however, unfortunately, when put up against Hanafusa Mari, I found that the two of them had the tendency of trying to outbelt one another, leading to a distinct lack of chemistry during romantic scenes. (And you’ll notice that, despite generally being weighted against Hanafusa, I am NOT giving her the full blame for this one.) 

Furukawa Yuta (A Cast)

Year of Debut: 2007

Acting - 10/10 

Singing - 9/10

Mario Tashiro (M Cast) 

Year of Debut: 2009 (He had his singing debut in 2007, but his overall musical debut was 2009)

Acting - 7/10

Singing - 10/10

Louis

Takanori Sato (A Cast) - Probably the baby of the group, in the sense that he had his own debut a little while after the others, in 2015. In his case, and his case alone, would I say that there was a REALLY strong case for him not having as much experience compared to his counterpart. He has played in Titanic, Elisabeth, the Scarlet Pimpernel (the one with Kazutaka Ishi), Mata Hari, Legally Blonde, and Chess, the latter possibly most impressively since he did the entire thing in English. 

Yuichi Harada (M Cast) - I’ll be honest, I’ve never in my life been tempted to look up his biography before, but when I did, I was impressed to find that he’s actually been working in the world of musicals since 1992, when he was in Anne of Green Gables and then again in Les Miserables as Gavroche. He has had a long career with Toho, too, being in musicals such as Les Miserables, The Sound of Music, Titanic, the Beggar’s Opera, and La Cage Aux Folles, none of which I literally had any idea about until today, but that is very impressive. Massive props to him, honestly, as well as working as a director for Bare: The Musical, which...well. Props to him for branching out. I will never understand the love for Bare worldwide, but you know what? Almost all musicals deserved to be loved by SOMEONE. He has an impressive track record, I’ll give him that. One of these days, I’ll probably have to dig deeper, since I suspect that there’s a lot more to him than meets the eye. 

Takanori has a very smooth, strong voice, without the projection of Mario Tashiro. I found that his take on Louis was quite charming, tender to his wife, a normal man who Marie respects even if she doesn’t love him in the same way as she loves Fersen. (Honestly, can I just say: While we all know that Orléans has my entire heart....if Takanori’s Louis asked me to marry him....#PhilippeWho.) He’s a steady man, not really dumb, but well-intentioned and occasionally oblivious to the real danger, and it’s that that kills him, in the end. 

Yuichi’s Louis is much more...confused throughout the thing and, while I think Antoinette has some compassion for him, I don’t really feel like it’s love so much as...affection, mixed with a certain amount of pity. He does show moments where it looks like he knows a lot more than he lets on, but in general, I think he did play it as much more humorous, a lot more...well, dumb, at least until the second act. He does have a solid voice, I give him that, but in general, it felt like there was a little less subtlety in how he interpreted the role. There’s something almost childish about the way that he grasps Orléans’ hands when he’s asking him to intercede for them, whereas in Takanori’s case, it’s more him realizing that his cousin is...well. Orléans, but knowing that he has to do a little bit of crawling if he’s going to survive. 

Yuichi’s Louis DOES still get sympathy from me, but it’s in a way that is kind of insulting to him as a character, mainly because it’s less about HIM and more like “......god. Killing him is a bit like kicking a puppy. Like, you could do it, but my God, why would you?” Like, I do kind of want to write a fanfic where he can just......be safe........far, far away from everything, because I’m not sure if he would notice if they took him any place else, but it does kind of...take away his complexity? I will say, in his defense, looking over his entire performance, that seeing him constantly trying to smile as he’s being led while Marie panics, trying to let her know this is all going to be alright, is a tearjerker, though I still feel like his Louis is played a bit too much like the caricature of Louis that, at this point, I’m kind of used to seeing. That being said, while I don’t necessarily like all of the DIRECTION he took Louis, I can see that he put genuine thought into constructing the role, so I’m not going to nuke him too much in the acting category.

This one, more than any of the others, is probably YMMV, because I know people who were genuinely shocked to realize Louis is double-cast at all. Mainly because it isn’t like the role leaves THAT much of an impact, overall, having only one major song. I honestly think that the 2021 cast is making the right call in splitting Orléans and giving Louis one role, all things considered. 

Takanori Sato

Year of Debut: 2015

Acting - 10/10

Singing - 10/10

Yuichi Harada

Year of Debut: 1992

Acting - 8/10

Singing - 8/10

The Case for M Cast

Now that we’ve gone through the rankings, it’s time for the original question: What are the pros of M Cast? And, if you just listened to me laying all this out, you would think that I wouldn’t have much positive to say. That being said, when I was back in the States and could spend an hour or two watching musicals every day, a LOT of the time, I would watch M Cast. There has never really been a point where I said “You know? I regret getting that cast, I wish I’d just had A the entire time.” If I was dangling off a cliff and I could only save one cast recording, I would HAVE to choose A (and then promptly sob), but I do, genuinely, like M on its own and would recommend getting both simply to compare. 

- Mitsuo Yoshihara. Now, this is going to be odd for anyone reading, because I can hear it now: “But he wasn’t double cast! Wouldn’t you get him on A too?” Yes, you definitely would. But he is a very unique type of Toho actor in the sense that he changed up his performance for EACH cast he was in. If you look at M cast, he has a much warmer dynamic with Natsumi’s Margrid, either as a paternal substitute (making up for her own aristocratic father) or as a prospective love interest. He is MUCH more hurt in the final court scene, very clearly viewing Margrid’s decision as a personal betrayal. As the admitted and confessed Morléans shipper, I have to eat the angst up like it’s candy. The two of them have a nice amount of familiarity and chemistry with one another, presumably due to having worked with one another on other projects before. 

- Mario Tashiro’s voice. This deserves its own section because it is REALLY, REALLY phenomenal. You know whenever you’re seeing Mario Tashiro in something simply because that voice is VERY distinctive and is totally overwhelming each time you hear it. I noted my misgivings in his section, but overall? It is very much worth the price of admission just to hear him. 

- Different shots. I’m still figuring out exactly WHAT shots dramatically change from each cast, but M cast does contain some shots that A doesn’t have and vice versa. M cast doesn’t have this shot of Margrid and Antoinette, and A cast doesn’t have the one here of Antoinette and Fersen’s hands touching, which is a wonderful little bit of cinematography. I do think that, depending on the shot, you can get more or less of a character’s motivations in that moment. A personal favorite is Hébert trying to get Margrid alone during the scene just before the ball and Margrid shoving him off, which foreshadows what happens near the end of the second act. 

-Hanafusa and Natsumi’s voices actually do go quite nicely together at the end.

-Mario Tashiro does make for a very splashy Fersen; yeah, you might not spend too long dissecting what he’s doing when he’s on stage, but he is fun to watch swish around in his 18th century officer’s outfit.  

-My griping on Natsumi’s Margrid aside, I do think she has a lot of charm. No, it isn’t my FAVORITE take on the role, but I do actually like what she does, she adds quite a few nice touches to it, and she does make the song “Enough is Enough”, near the end of the first act, her actual bitch, adding her own riffs onto it to give it a sense of individuality. The parts where she’s smiling, hanging onto Orléans’ arm, make even my wrinkled, shriveled heart grow three sizes. I’ll be genuinely excited to see her return to the role in 2021 to see if there’s anything she changes, though I doubt I’ll be able to see any part of it in person. 

-If you’re a Hanafusa Mari fan, you get to see the kind of performance from her that you’ve grown to expect and appreciate. If you’re not, you get to see her get splashed in the face with champagne. Win, win, win. 

Overall, I think that it will depend on what you’re looking for. I really enjoyed the realism and the grit of the A cast, but not everyone WANTS grit, and in that case...I suppose M cast would appeal more, since M cast relies on everyone involved being much better human beings than A cast, though I do want to emphasize that everyone in A cast is still redeemable. (Except Hébert. Because fuck Hébert.) M cast is....easier to digest, in many ways. There’s a good queen, a stupid-yet-sweet king, a dashing hero, and a misunderstood-yet-angry-poor girl, manipulated by the siren’s song of the Revolution and her unrequited love for Fersen, who bullies the poor, downtrodden queen when she gets a chance before realizing the error of her ways. I think that, for many people, that’s perfectly fine, and that’s what they wanted, especially if they’re already used to Rose of Versailles. I do still LIKE it, because it’s a production of one of my top 2 favorite musicals, but I do think that, if it was the ONLY version of the musical available, I wouldn’t have spent so much time picking it apart. (Though I still would have thought it a MASSIVE improvement on the German.)

 I do put a lot of it on Hanafusa Mari’s influence, though, because of the prevalence of her fanbase and the general belief that no one could ever come close to their star, so why bother getting another cast. Especially given how....devoted the Takarazuka fanbase is in comparison to the Toho fanbase, and the Thing I’ve noticed where fans try to argue that there is some sort of empirical reason for their bias as opposed to simply liking one more than the other. 

[ao3feed-anastasia]

Empress of All Russia

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3dTQnQL

by Serenity_V

When Anya/Anastasia reaches New Russia, a loyalist region that resisted the rise of the Soviet Union, she finds more than she bargained for. Her grandmother is waiting there, but so are a mountain of responsibilities, and the perpetual skeptics don't make her life any easier. In court, she faces a political rival. And in private, even a friend may not be what he appears.

Words: 5254, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

Fandoms: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally, Anastasia (1997)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway), Dimitri | Dmitry (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway), Vlad Popov, Dowager Empress (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway), Gleb Vaganov

Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)

Additional Tags: dimya, AU, alternative history, Secrets, Politics, Trust Issues, Mostly Musical-Inspired

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3dTQnQL

[in-arlathan]

Elenara Lavellan

Elven rogue and archer, specialized as Artificer

Hunter of Clan Lavellan, Inquisitor and Comtesse of Kirkwall

Finally, I managed to update Elenara’s profile and biography. Yay me! I wanted to do this for the longest time. The first iteration of her biography was rather short and I have developed her character since then a lot more through little posts here on Tumblr and fanfiction. I didn’t even know how many head-canons I had for Elenara until I started writing this. This made it so much more fun (and challenging).

I hope you enjoy reading this, although I know this a big reference post for myself for the most part. If you wanna know more about my Lavvelan, you’ll more posts about her via her tag.

____

PROFILE

Full name: Elenara Lavellan Race: Dalish elf Class: Rogue, archer Specialization: Artificer Nationality: Free Marches Religion: Elven gods

Biometrics

Age: 32 (in 9:41 Dragon) Eye color: Green Hair color: Blonde Height: 1,55 m / 5,1 feet Weight: 43 kg / 86 pounds Vallaslin: Dirthamen Scars: Two facial scars (left eye, left side of her jaw), one on the lower back (from an arrow), two on the abdomen (from stab wounds).

____

CHARACTER TRAITS

Positive: Empathetic, patient, and open-minded. Negative: Too trusting, tends to avoid confrontations, prone to procrastination

Motivation and goals

Elenara is driven by the desire to understand–be it politics, history or people. She always looks for the why and goes out of her way to see the world from other people’s perspective. Her goal is to create a world in which the people of Thedas can learn to co-exist peacefully.

Strengths and weakness

Due to her empathetic traits, she is a good mediator and knows how to broker a deal between different parties. She can make everyone feel valued and appreciated and thus build strong alliances between parties that would otherwise be at odds with each other. This strength is also the source of her greatest weakness. Her trustworthiness and forgiveness can be exploited by different people. Oftentimes, Elenara will not know that she has been betrayed until it’s too late.

Special abilities

She is a hunter first and foremost, skilled with the bow as much as a blade. As a young woman, she would learn how to mend old armor and sow new clothing. Her talent with a needle became useful when patching up injured hunters in the absence of a healer or medical professional. She is used to closing her own wounds, even if they will leave a scar.

Dreams and aspirations

As a young girl, she would dream about going to visit the Grand Tourney. As she became older, she aspired to attending a university to further her studies and be up-to-par with human scholars.

Best friends and confidants

With the Lavellan clan: Deshanna, Erendir and Almaril With the Inquisition: Varric, Dorian and Cassandra

Likes, dislikes and other preferences

Loves roasted chestnuts

Likes to sleep in open fields

Enjoys being alone in the woods,

Can spend hours on end daydreaming

Despises human shoes, but has a nack for make-up. Lipstick, especially.

Red is her favourite color

Nicknames

While the faithful called her “Herald of Andraste”, she never took much liking to the title. She prefered the nicknames given to her by relatives and friends like Nara (used by members of her clan), Aunt Ell (by the children of her friend Erendir), as well as Inky or Boss. After the Exalted Council, Varric would start to call her “Comtesse”⎯an ironic reference to the informal title she owned thanks to him.

→ You’ll find her biography (plus screenshots) behind the cut.

____

BIOGRAPHY

Early years

Born in 9:09 Dragon as the daughter of the former First Hunter of the Lavellan clan, Elenara learned how to provide for herself and her kin at a very early age and became a fairly skilled archer. With a gift for crafts and needlework, she would often create new clothing or armor of her fellow hunters and help their healers tend to the wounded.

After the death of her father in 9:22 Dragon, she became fascinated with the lore and history of Thedas. More often than not, she would wander away from the camp to search for old ruins, until the keeper decided to provide Elenara with books to study instead. From then onward, the young hunter would craft new clothing to sell in the various cities in the Free Marches to pay for her education. 

When coming of age, she decided to have the vallaslin of Dirthamen, keeper of secrets, tattooed to her face, as she felt drawn to the past of her people and the secrets it might hold. At the age of 31, she was knowledgeable about history, politics and the culture of various nations, which made her the perfect candidate when it was time for the keeper to choose a clan member to witness the conclave at Haven.

Although she deeply cared for her clan, only a few members ever got close to Elenara after her father’s death. Her aunt Irileth, her father’s younger sister, took care of her but became estranged from her niece when Elenara had grown into a woman. From then on, Elenara spent most of her time with Erendir, a young hunter only three years older than her. She admired his kindness and practicality while he was fascinated with her curiosity. For a time, they maintained in intimate relationship, until Erendir asked her to be his wife and have children with him.

Joining the Inquisition

When she was asked to attend the Divine’s conclave in Haven, she was eager to go, but uncertain how she or her clan could benefit from the outcome of the mage-templar war. Using her knowledge of human society, she managed to blend in with the crowd at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Being a simple hunter beforehand, she was confused by the explosion at the conclave and its aftermath. When she saw the destruction the Breach caused in Haven, she agreed to help in the efforts to stop this madness. She was reluctant when it came to joining the Inquisition however. Being a firm believer in the elven pantheon, Elenara had no ties with the chantry. Being called “Herald of Andraste” felt like deception to her, and so she never actively claimed that title for herself. She ultimately agreed to help Cassandra, Leliana and Cullen to form the Inquisition to secure her own safety and play her part in closing the Breach.

Her biggest concern in the early days of the Inquisition was to save the refugees in the Hinterlands and other regions of Ferelden and protected them from rebel mages and rogue templars alike. Soon, she became known for her compassion and temperance among the Inquisition forces.

With her choice to side with the rebel mages at Redcliffe, Elenara gained a whole heap of enemies, but also new powerful allies.

Becoming Inquisitor

After the descruction of Haven, Elenara struggled with her new role as Inquisitor. Being a firm believer in the elven Creators, she never quite felt at ease with leading the armies of the faithful, and she kept her thoughts on the matter fairly secret. Although her confidants knew about her doubts, she played along with the diplomatic charade Leliana had set up. She knew all too well that this was the only way to stop Corypheus before he could cloak the world.

In the back of her head, she was trying to find a way to use her new power as leverage to help her people–the elves.

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

After ending the conflict in the Dales between the imperial forces and the so-called Freeman, it was time to prevent the assassination attempt on Empress Celene. Leliana, Josphine and Vivienne would teach Elenara in the rules of the Great Game in preparation, as well as dancing and ettiquette.

Upon arriving in Halamshiral, Elenara found herself in a state of true panic for the first time since she joined the Inquisition. Right there, in the heart of the Dales where her people once fought for their freedom, she came to realize that she was no longer studying history, but making it with her own hands. Being looked down upon from the Orlesian nobles didn’t do much to help her ease into the situation. She had no fondness for the great game of deception the Orlesians like to play, although she managed to find her way around the Winter Palace. It was painfully clear that there was more at stake than her own reputation. Not just for the Inquisition, but for the elves in general.

In the end, she managed to confront Florianne de Chalons in front of the imperial court, putting an end to her plan to kill the empress. Elenara also managed the reveal delicate details about Grand-Duke Gaspard’s plans to usurpe the throne, and Celene had her cousin executed in response. Elenara’s goal was to reconcile Celene with her former lover to give the elven rebel an edge in Orlesian politics, but the empress exiled Briala instead. Elenara had Leliana and her spies keep an eye out for Briala’s whereabouts since she, too, was interested in helping the elves of Thedas.

Relationship with Solas

As Inquisitor, Elenera used every chance she got to deepen her knowledge of the world. Naturally, she would gravitate towards Solas, who knew more about the history of the world than anyone else she had ever met. She was fascinated by his abilities as a dreamer and would often listen to the stories he had found during his exploration of the Fade. More than that, she saw in him what the elves might be: proud, confident, and respected. Soon, she found herself infatuated with him though keep this to herself until the Inquisition reached Skyhold. 

Even after their first kiss in the Fade, Elenara tried to keep her feelings for him fairly secret, meeting with Solas in private whenever possible. Afraid to admit that she had fallen in love with him, she tried to keep up the illusion of them being close friends in front of her companions. An endeavour that was destined to fail, as Varric and Dorian soon discovered the truth about the couple. And yet, Elenara stalled and put of saying “I love you” as long as possible – until one night by a lake near Crestwood.

More on her relationship with Solas here:

OTP Questions #1

OTP Questions #2

Death of the Lavellan clan

Shortly after the events at the Winter Palace, a messenger arrived with a terrible message. Bandits had attacked and killed the Lavellan clan. Any help from the Inquisition came too late.

After the death of her clan, Elenara was so devastated that she practically avoided any mention of them. She felt miserable and ashamed to have not been there to fight among them, and wouldn’t let Solas or any of her other companions comfort her. That was, until a few survivors arrived in the Frostback mountains. Among them were Erendir and his wife Almaril.

Happy to have them back in her life, Elenara offered them a place at Skyhold, but they refused. Almaril hated Elenara for joining the Inquisition while the clan had needed her, although she knew her friend had good reasons to stay in Haven. The bigger problem was Erendir, however. Although he had ended the relationship with Elenara at his own volition and went on to have children with Almaril, he didn’t fail to notice the attachment his former lover felt for Solas. Erendir had loved Elenara deeply and still regretted ending things between them, because she refused to have children with him. Seeing her with Solas, who was a better match for her than Erendir had ever been, made it even worse.

One night, he confronted Solas to learn more about the apostate‘s feelings for Elenara, eventually bragging about his shared past with her. Despite being tempted to teach the other elf a lesson, Solas left Erendir where he stood, determined to never speak of the matter again. When Elenara got wind of this, she felt betrayed and asked Erendir and Almaril to leave Skyhold. She made sure, however, that the Inquisition provided for them and the other surviving clan members before they parted ways.

Here Lies The Abyss & The Temple of Mythal

After the remaining members of the Lavellan clan left Skyhold, the Inquisition armies marched for Adamant Fortress. Interrupting the ritual with which the Grey Wardens would have summoned a demon army, Elenara and her party were attacked by Corphyeus’s lyrium dragon. Opening a rift, she managed to safe Warden Strout, Hawke and herself, as well as Solas, Cassandra and Dorian who had accompanied her on the mission.

After retrieving her memories and defeating the Nightmare, Elenara pressed on to stop Corypheus as soon as possible. After freeing Emprise the Lion from the red templars, she order a coordinated attack on the enemy troups in the Arbor Wilds.

Once again, she was accompanied by Solas, Cassandra, and Dorian as she entered the Temple of Mythal. Under differenty circumstances, finding the temple would be a life-long wish of hers fulfilled. Tempted to stay and study the ancient relief in the temple to learn as much about the past of her people, only the immediate danger of Corypheus taking the power of the Well of Sorrows let her press on.

Elenara sided with the Sentinels to bring down the red templars that attacked the ancient temple. Afraid of the power of the Well and what might do it with her, Elenara decided to let Morrigan drink from the waters and be bound to Mythal’s will.

When she ventured deeper into the Arbor Wilds to find the altar of the Mythal, Elenara had already begun to suspect that something was wrong. Until then, her belief in the elven gods had been unfaltering, but knowing that the All-Mother still lived and had chosen to ignore the plight of her people made her question their authority. Had she been unsure if she could continue her life as a Dalish elf and came to except that she had to become some else entirely.

The Vallaslin Removal

When Solas told her about the true meaning of the vallaslin, Elenara was deeply hurt. Though she had taken some pride in being Dalish and loved her people for trying to preserve elven history, she was disappointed by the elven Creators by this point that she wanted to leave her past and devotion for them behind. Therefore, she allowed Solas to take the vallaslin from her.

The Battle With Corypheus And After

Rattled by the events at the Temple of Mythal and the break-up with Solas, Elenara dove head first into the final confrontation with Corypheus, not hesitating to face the Tevinter magister in the Valley of Sacred Ashes. Fully prepared to die in battle, she fights her nemesis with brute force. When she finally obtained the orb from Corypheus’s hands, she banished the magister to the Fade without batting an eyelide. It was the first time, she came into contact with her darker side and gave in to her own lust for revenge.

After the battle and Solas disappearance, she began to feel exhausted, drained from the struggles. Slowly, she descended into a state of depression. Not only had she lost her clan, but also her home, her faith in the Creators and her identity, as well as the man she had come to love. Knowing all to well that it would be best for her to move on and find new purpose in live, she clung to her former life and couldn’t stop loving Solas. To distract herself, she took on the mission of finding the resting place of Inquistor Ameridan and was eager to help out with the earthquakes in the Deep Roads. Until...

The Exalted Council and the Qunari Invasion

Two years after the destruction of Haven, Cassandra, now known as Divine Victoria, called for an Exalted Council in Halamshiral. Returning to the city in which she had fought so hard to gain the respect of the Orlesian nobles – and humans in general – Elenara final came to the conclusion that in it was time to move on. She had felt lost for too long know and it was taking a toll on her. So, when the time came to meet with the ambassadors of Ferelden and Orlais, she fully expected the negotiations to result the the disbanding of the Inquisition.

And yet, when a qunari corpse was found in the middle of the Winter Palace, she felt that sense of purpse again. Dealing with the threat that the qunari posed gave her something to do, something she was actually good at. Even when the anchor was beginning to effect her health, she kept on going, determined to make herself useful again.

What she didn’t expect was to find out that Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, was orchestrating the events from behind the scenes. With what she had learned about Mythal, Elenara was willing to believe that Fen’Harel was a living and breathing entity, too. When she learned that Solas was the trickster god she learned to fear as a child, her world was shattered once again. Not even once did she consider joining him, for she had fought to hard to protect the world as she knew it. Even without a purpose and without a new identity that transcended her role as Inquisitor, she knew she could not let Solas go forth with his plans, no matter how much she still loved him.

After the Exalted Council

Learning that the Inquisition has been compromised by qunari spies and Fen’Harel’s agents, she executed her initial plan of disbanding the entire organization as soon as she and her party returned to the Winter Palace.

With the Inquisition gone, Elenara found herself free to go wherever she wanted. Now holding the title “Countess” in Kirkwall, she returned to the Free Marches and tried to settle in to her new estate in Hightown while corresponding with Cassandra, Dorian, Cullen and Leliana to coordinate the activities to counter Solas’s plan. She felt confident working from underground and plotting to redeem her former lover.

Six months after the painful revelation of Solas being Fen’Harel and Elenera’s fruitless attempts to learn more about her lovers whereabouts, she called in a few favors and went to Val Royeaux to attend the University of Orlais–one of the first elves to ever do so. The university gave her access to ancient documents with which she planned to further her studies on Fen’Harel, while her presence allowed elves to pursue an academic career more openly. Elenara fought for their rights for higher education, using her reputation as Inquisitor and “Herald of Andraste” as well as her acquaintance with Professor Kenric as leverage. 

And there she remains, until she finds a way to change the Dread Wolf’s heart or counter his plan to destroy the world.

[tpadegimas]

Answers to your questions in no particular order

Answers to your questions in no particular order

We’ve been busy around here, what with comprehensive life-event changes and all.  I could, I suppose craft some winding narrative that artfully leads us all down the winding road past all these changes and what we have learned from them, or I could just blurt out some answers. Reflecting upon the remaining To Do list, I chose B. Here are some answers to questions you asked (at least in my…

[avonweary]

| 100 books in a year challenge |

I thought I’d give myself a challenge this year and attempt to read 100 books over 365 days. I’ll be posting every time I start a book, and a review/update whenever I finish one. 

Here’s the list of my 100 books (with the last 20 being kept for whatever I feel like reading at the moment):

 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens

Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens

David Copperfield - Charles Dickens

The Old Curiosity Shop - Charles Dickens

Nicholas Nickleby - Charles Dickens

The Pickwick Papers - Charles Dickens

Anne of Windy Poplars - L. M. Montgomery

Anne’s House of Dreams -  L. M. Montgomery

Anne of Ingleside -  L. M. Montgomery

Rainbow Valley -  L. M. Montgomery

Rilla of Ingleside -  L. M. Montgomery

Chronicles of Avonlea/Further Chronicles of Avonlea -  L. M. Montgomery

Women in Love - D. H. Lawrence

Gerald’s Game - Stephen King

The Stand - Stephen King

Pet Sematary - Stephen King

Where the Past Begins - Amy Tan

Draft No. 4 - John McPhee

The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien

The Fellowship of the Ring - J. R. R. Tolkien

The Two Towers - J. R. R. Tolkien

The Return of the King - J. R. R. Tolkien

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

Good Wives - Louisa May Alcott

Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe - Edgar Allen Poe

Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

Jazz - Toni Morrison

The Diary of a Young Girl - Anne Frank

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs

Hollow City -  Ransom Riggs

Library of Souls - Ransom Riggs

Into The Wild (Warriors) - Erin Hunter

Fire and Ice (Warriors) - Erin Hunter

Forest of Secrets (Warriors) - Erin Hunter

Rising Storm (Warriors) -  Erin Hunter

A Dangerous Path (Warriors) - Erin Hunter

The Darkest Hour (Warriors) - Erin Hunter

The Odyssey - Homer

The Iliad - Homer

1984 - George Orwell

Lord of the Flies -  William Golding

Animal Farm - George Orwell

Frankenstein - Mary Shelley

The Secret History - Donna Tartt

Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë

Emma - Jane Austen

Mrs. Dalloway - Virginia Woolf

The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde

The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) - Rick Riordan

The Sea of Monsters (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) -  Rick Riordan

The Titan’s Curse (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) - Rick Riordan

The Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson and the Olympians)-Rick Riordan

The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson and the Olympians)-Rick Riordan

Odd Thomas (Odd Thomas Series) - Dean Koontz

Forever Odd (Odd Thomas Series)-Dean Koontz

Odd Hours (Odd Thomas Series)-Dean Koontz

Odd Apocalypse (Odd Thomas Series)-Dean Koontz

Deeply Odd (Odd Thomas Series)-Dean Koontz

Don Quixote - Miguel de Cervantes

Inside the Shadow City (Kiki Strike Series) - Kirsten Miller

The Empress’s Tomb (Kiki Strike Series)-Kirsten Miller

The Darkness Dwellers (Kiki Strike Series)-Kirsten Miller

The Name of This Book Is Secret (The Secret Series) -  Pseudonymous Bosch

If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late (The Secret Series)- Pseudonymous Bosch

This Book is Not Good For You (The Secret Series)- Pseudonymous Bosch

This Isn’t What It Looks Like (The Secret Series)- Pseudonymous Bosch

You Have to Stop This (The Secret Series)- Pseudonymous Bosch

Bad Magic Series -  Pseudonymous Bosch

Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow

Erased Vol. 1 - Kei Sanbe

Akira Vol. 1 - Katsuhiro Otomo

Death Note Vol. 1 - Tsugumi Ohba

Death Note Vol. 2 -  Tsugumi Ohba

Death Note Vol. 3 -  Tsugumi Ohba

Death Note Vol. 4 -  Tsugumi Ohba

Death Note Vol. 5 -  Tsugumi Ohba

Death Note Vol. 6 -  Tsugumi Ohba

War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy

It’s a little ambitious lol, but I hope I can do it! Some of the books are ones I loved as a kid and want to read again, if some of them look like weird choices. Anyway, I’ll see you when I post my first update!

[kenzieam]

Not Happening, Doll - Chapter Five (Bucky X Lev)

Rating: M (language, violence, eventual smut, angst, slow burn)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes  @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee @chook007 @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw  @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves  @clarabella960  @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @smilexcaptainx  @shirukitsune @cake-writes  @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​

If I missed any tag requests, I apologize!!

*IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR DELETED FROM THIS LIST, DM ME*

*****************************************************************************

Levi and Bucky cannot stand each other (or rather, the former Winter Soldier cannot stand to be around the Avenger’s newest member and, like the ass he is, he won’t divulge why) and of course, they get teamed up for a new mission. It’s deep cover this time and not only do they have to work together, they have to pretend they’re MARRIED.

Heaven help them….

****************************************************************************

Shame made his heart heavy and he worked hard to answer her. “Because I don’t deserve you.”

Levi could only stare at him for a long beat. What the hell does that mean? I don’t deserve you.

“Bucky, I- “

He pulled his hand away from her face. “I killed Howard Stark.” His declaration was bleak and miserable, his eyes lowered as if he wasn’t even worthy of looking Levi in the face. He looked like he expected Levi to claw away from him in disgust, spit on his naked body with scorn and curse the very ground he walked on. He looked like he expected her to walk away, leaving him open, vulnerable and broken, his heart crushed beneath her feet.

Levi swallowed once, twice. He didn’t know? How could he not know?

“Bucky… I know. I knew before I joined the team.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked up to hers before dropping again, a heart-broken little boy. Levi reached up to cup his cheek, his stubble rasping under her hand. “How can you… knowing what I’ve done…” He began, stopping with a moan as Levi’s thumb caressed his skin.

Levi moved closer, taking the hand Bucky had pulled away from her face and clasping it in hers. “First of all, you didn’t kill Howard…. HYDRA did.”

Bucky tried to pull his hand free, but Levi clung tightly, and she jerked her other hand slightly, jostling his head to get his attention. She waited until he hesitantly met her eyes before continuing.

“You didn’t read my file, did you?” She asked gently.

“Once I heard that you were connected to Stark, I… I couldn’t, I was so ashamed.”

“Of what? Bucky, you were brainwashed and- “

“I stole your life!” He hissed roughly, tears glistening in his tortured eyes. “Because of me you were lost, frozen and lost for over twenty years.” He stopped, turning his head into the pillow, bottom lip trembling slightly.

“Bucky, listen to me.” Levi let go of his hand and reached up, pushing her fingers between his face and the pillow to cup his face with both hands. She waited until he raised his eyes to her before speaking again.

“I signed up with SHIELD right out of high school, by the time I was twenty-three I was leading missions and getting commendations. That’s what put me on Stark’s radar. He was setting up a secret program; he suspected HYDRA was trying to infiltrate SHIELD, or maybe already had and he needed a bloodhound. I agreed to the project because I was an orphan.” Bucky’s eyes snapped to hers in surprise, his lips parting but she continued. “I had no family to miss me, no one to wonder why I’d disappeared; all I had was SHIELD. I knew how to kill, how to track and infiltrate already, receiving the serum just made it a lot easier. Stark faked my death, listed me as KIA; even my own commanding officer thought I was dead. He destroyed my SHIELD record, so even if someone did figure out I wasn’t really dead and was behind this, they wouldn’t know my skills and history. He turned me into a ghost, a rumor, only he knew about me.” Levi pushed herself up to lean on the headboard and pulled at Bucky until he acquiesced and moved closer, resting his head on her breast and accepting her comforting embrace.

“That day, Stark called me to his lab. He wanted me to go into hiding. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he had a feeling something big was going to go down. He needed me out of the way, I guess. I don’t know.” Levi’s hand paused in its stroking along Bucky’s cheek and she went faraway for few heartbeats. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it and I still don’t understand, maybe Stark was worried I was a double agent, maybe he wanted to protect me, I don’t know; I’ll never know for sure.” She glanced down at Bucky, smiling tenderly at him. “I agreed to be frozen, I trusted Stark; but I’ll never know what was going through his head that day. Maybe he thought he’d live through the night, maybe he intended for me to found right away; but I don’t think so, he hid the only paper copy of my record so well it took Tony over twenty years to find it. I’d like to think he knew who his son would become and that he’d discover me when the time was right.” She curled her fingers through Bucky’s hair and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I had nothing back then, I didn’t belong there. I was meant to exist now, in this time. I’m happy I was frozen and lost, because it means I get to work with the best team in the world,” a single tear trickled down Bucky’s cheek and she thumbed it away. “I get to be here, with you.”

Bucky choked on a sob and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her skin. Still nestled against her, his face burrowed in her breasts he confessed his greatest sorrow, the assumption that had ruled him since the day Levi joined the team. “As soon as I learned who you were, I felt so guilty. I killed Stark and condemned you to ice. I didn’t think I deserved to be happy, and definitely not with you.” He clung to her suddenly, and new resolve blazed in his eyes. “But I don’t care anymore if I deserve it or not. I need you and I can’t let you go.”

“You have me.” Levi vowed, rubbing her thumb along his bottom lip and smiling wetly when he kissed at it. “And you absolutely deserve happiness.”

Bucky lunged upwards, crushing his mouth to hers and pushing her back into the pillows. He kissed her like his life depended on it and maybe it did, for the thought of not having Levi at his side, after sharing his body and his heart like this tonight, made him feel lightheaded and dizzy, his chest caving in on itself.

Levi went pliant beneath him with a whimper and let him love her. For hours he showed her with his body, murmured words and caresses how much he loved her, how she completed him and made him better, how he couldn’t and didn’t want to live in any world without her. He watched with awe-filled, worshipful eyes as she came apart beneath him, caged by his powerful forearms; climaxed with a cry above him, his massive hands gripping her hips, capable of crushing throats and yet so gentle when they touched her; on her hands and knees in front of him, swaying like a cat in heat. He watched and fed off her pleasure, using it as fuel to keep going until Levi was spent below him, skin sweat-slicked and glowing, eyes languid and lips parted on heavy breaths, until there was no doubt in even the darkest recesses of her mind that Bucky belonged to her and she absolutely belonged to him. Only then did he give into the ecstasy that had been clawing at him, for forever it seemed, and surrendered to his release, letting it crash over him with the power of a thousand suns, drawing a roar from deep in his chest, convulsed his body like a lightning bolt and he seemed to come endlessly, his orgasm never-ending, ceaseless waves of paradise as he spilled inside her, marking her forever as his and his alone.  

Finally, only half-conscious it seemed, Bucky collapsed, not even able to prevent his immense body from falling directly onto Levi but she only hummed in delirious contentment and cuddled him closer, burying his panting face into her throat and peppering the curve of his shoulder with breathless kisses that soon stopped when she too sagged in utter exhaustion.

Without speaking, they drifted almost instantly into blissful sleep, tangled in each other.

*******************************************************************************            Levi reached for her cell phone, frowning at its interruption. But Bucky, and that’s surely who it was, because she’d been careful to attach certain ringtones to the various Stepford wives that she’d given her number to, and this was none of those warning sounds, wouldn’t be calling her at work unless it was important. He preferred to sext her instead, ramping her up for hours before she could leave, driving her absolutely batshit crazy before she flew in the front door, overwrought with sexual tension to attack a laughing, more-than-ready-for-her James Buchanan Barnes.

It had only been a few short weeks since their ‘breakthrough’, if you wanted to call it that, although ‘explosion of near rabid passion’ seemed more accurate, and they no longer needed to pretend in front the neighbors, no longer needed to put on a show; all the caresses, the lingering kisses and clinging to each other was now 100% real and, although Tiffanie had frowned at them one night, cooing that ‘something is different with you two’, no one so far had seemed to sniff them out as posers.

“Hello?” Levi murmured.

“Maddie, you need to come home.” Bucky, or rather, Jackson’s voice was clipped. “Your grandmothers had a heart attack.”

Levi’s stomach dropped and she gripped her phone, fighting to look calm. “When?”

“This morning, I told your dad we’d leave right away.”

“On my way.” Levi hung up and glanced at her boss’ door. It was shut and she didn’t have time to wait. ‘Your grandmothers had a heart attack’ was code for they’d been made. It had happened this morning and they needed to get out now. Levi scribbled a note and looked across her desk to her workmate, a quiet woman named Emily.

“I have to go; my grandmas had a heart attack.” Levi thrust the paper at Emily. “Can you tell Ed? I don’t have time to wait.”

“But, Maddie- “ Emily’s voice died out as Levi stood and hurried from the office, fixing a look of sadness on her face.

“Bucky?” She called as soon as she entered the house; she’d pulled the car into the garage so they could load sensitive cargo unseen and Bucky already had a stack piled near the door. He looked up when she entered and paused long enough to press a kiss to her lips, resting his forehead to hers for a heartbeat before pulling away.

“I’ve already packed everything and sent a virus through the computers like Tony instructed. I’ve laid out the charges for self-destruction too.”

Levi nodded, breezing into the master bedroom and hurriedly changing into more comfortable clothes; when she emerged Bucky was loading the car with packed up surveillance equipment, disguised as regular luggage and she threw their bug-out bags beside it, disappearing back into the house to initiate the self-destruction sequence.

In the event they were discovered, like now, Tony had provided them with incendiary charges and a sequence to start. It would wait a set amount of time before blowing, setting the entire house on fire and destroying any and all evidence of what had gone on there. The fire was designed, and Tony had tried to explain how to Levi and lost her quite quickly, to completely decimate every trace of the equipment they couldn’t pack and bring with them, every hint at what they had been able to discover. It would hopefully slow down any pursuers, maybe even muddy the waters enough that HYDRA wasn’t even able to determine who had infiltrated the town and Company. It also had the added benefit of not appearing immediately suspicious, looking instead like bad luck; ‘the poor Harpers, not only did her grandmother have a heart attack but they left a candle unattended too and the house burned down!’

“Ready?” Bucky asked, poking his head into the kitchen. Levi nodded, grabbing a handful of protein bars and water bottles, stuffing them into a bag. Bucky reached out a hand for her to take then guided her to the garage, his hand leaving hers only to rest protectively on the small of her back. Levi slid into the passenger seat, glancing at Bucky when he climbed in behind the wheel and gave him a shaky smile.

Bucky frowned for a half-second before leaning forwards and cupping Levi’s cheek, pulling her in for a hard kiss. He pulled back only a hairsbreadth, his breath hot on her face, foreheads touching, eyes boring into hers. “We’re going to get out of here.” He vowed. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

What about you? Levi nodded, sitting back when Bucky let go of her face and turned to face forward.

The drive out of town was nerve-racking because it was so quiet. Just as when they’d arrived, it looked too clean, too quaint, too perfect. A mask hiding the monster beneath.

“What gave us away?” Levi wondered as they reached the outskirts, both giving identical sighs of relief to have not been obstructed. “You always kept your arm covered.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky replied quietly, metal fist flexing on the steering wheel. “Steve didn’t say, just that Tony’s web searches started flagging inquires of our profiles and they started receiving calls to the ghost numbers; and when satellite feeds showed increased mobilization around the town, they chose to pull us.”

A sinking feeling hit Levi and she swallowed hard. She glanced at Bucky and he looked her way with a raised brow. “I, uh… I can’t remember if I did or not, but… that first night we were together… do you think we were too loud? I don’t think I remembered to use your name; I think I called you Bucky. I mean, we were careful after that, but that first night?”

Bucky frowned thoughtfully before shaking his head. “No, I mean I checked it out, the house was decently made, it had natural sound-proofing, unless someone was right outside- “ he broke off and scowled, then hit the steering wheel with a curse. “Goddammit! I didn’t even think of it!”

“What?” Levi hesitated before reaching out and touching Bucky’s arm; he didn’t throw it off like Levi half expected, but his muscles were rock-hard, hinting to his self-directed anger.

He glanced at her; fists white-knuckled on the wheel. “We had a peeping tom; I didn’t even realize it.” He huffed out a breath before continuing. “One night,” he glanced at Levi and she was surprised to see his cheeks going pink, “that night we made love with me sitting against the headboard and you in my lap?”

Levi bit back a grin, did she ever. She’d come hard, but not nearly as hard as Bucky; he’d convulsed under her, gripping her sides so hard he left bruises, whimpering her name in broken gasps and it had been the sexiest damn thing she’d ever seen, plunging her into a second keening orgasm. “Yes, what about it?”

“After… I got up to get a drink in the kitchen, I didn’t bother getting dressed. As I walked through the dining room, I thought I heard something. There was a tiny crack in the curtains, I looked but didn’t see anything. There was a bit of a wind, I thought it was just a branch. I was too eager to get back into bed with you but dammit, I should have checked. Some pervert was out there watching and listening, and he probably saw my metal arm too.  Even if they didn’t know what they saw or heard, they probably gossiped and eventually it hit the wrong ears…. Fuck!”

“Hey,” Levi called, reaching over and all but prying his right hand off the wheel so she could lace her fingers with it in her lap. “We don’t know that was it, some freak looking into windows? I probably did something at work- “

“No.” Bucky glanced her way, his eyes deadly serious. “You’re a good agent, the best. I was being an asshole all those times I ran you down, you know your job. It wasn’t you.”

Levi shrugged. “Let’s get back to the Compound first, then we can do a post-mortem.”

Bucky glanced at his watch. “The team’s already in the air, they’re meeting us at a safe location- “

“Bucky.” Levi broke in, looking his way with fearful eyes. “We’re being followed.”

“Where?”

“Three cars back, black SUV, tinted windows; Christ, could they be any more cliched? Another one, shit… now there’s three, four!”

“Hang on.” Bucky muttered grimly, pressing the accelerator down.

Later, Levi would be hard pressed to remember the details, but at the time, everything happened with startling clarity and stereo sound. The SUVs chased them for miles, managing to follow Bucky’s highly skilled driving, no matter which exit he took, which road he barreled down. Levi yelled into the comms, informing the team of their situation, their position and the plan morphed a half-dozen times, finally settling on Bucky getting them to a set of GPS coordinates, where the team would hopefully already be waiting with the quinjet.

Bucky swore fiercely as the steering wheel wrenched in his hands. If it had been his flesh thumb caught and not his metal one, it probably would have been ripped off and fresh rage burned low in Bucky’s gut. He could be in danger, that was fine, but these fucks were threatening Levi now too and that was not fucking okay. He’d kill them all, tear their throats out with his own teeth if he had too, but his girl needed to be protected. Not that she couldn’t handle herself, Jesus God, the woman was a phenomenon, a lethal ballerina, deadly poetry in motion, but Bucky had made a vow the moment he’d first seen her, a promise deep down in the marrow of his bones, he would protect and love and cherish this woman to his very last breath.

She wasn’t going out like this, chased like a fox and ran to ground.

The closest SUV hit them again, bashing into the rear quarter panel and the steering wheel did another jig in his hands, drawing out a snarl of rage. They were dead, these fucks. He’d kill them all.

“Seven miles to rendevous!” Levi called, checking the coordinates. Pure luck had kept them on the road so far; sure, Bucky was a hell of a driver, and Levi was a dead shot as she fired round after round at their pursuers, but a fifth SUV had joined the chase a while ago and these guys knew their stuff. “Got one!” She crowed, slapping in a new clip and Bucky caught sight of one of the SUVs careen off the road, smashing heavily into a tree.

“Good shot, baby!” Bucky bellowed, proud despite their dire situation at his girl’s talent. “Hang on!” He swung the wheel, hitting the closest SUV and was gratified to see it lose control, flying over an approach and crashing into a stand of trees a good twenty feet above the ground. Stark’s teams were going to have a hell of a mess to clean up after this.

Levi aimed silently, focused on her targets and squeezed another set of rounds. She hissed in disappointment when they missed but quickly locked on again, crowing again when she scored a direct hit and a cloud of steam and smoke began roiling out of the grill of the closest pursuing SUV. It quickly dropped back and was promptly rear-ended by its own teammate, both SUVs coming to a jarring halt, all but exploding across the highway. Levi doubted there would be survivors, but these fucks had started it.

“One left!” She reported and snaked back inside the open window, grabbing a fresh clip, she turned to push back out, lean her body outside and take aim at the final pursuer when Bucky suddenly cursed and yelled her name. She felt his hand grab the back of her shirt and she finally saw the danger. The last SUV, scratched and scarred and smoking, had come out of seemingly nowhere and smashed at top speed into their passenger side.

Instant pain hit Levi, along with an eardrum-blowing roar of twisting metal and screeching tires. Dimly she heard Bucky scream her name, sounding like he was a million miles away. White hot agony shot through her and then blessed blackness took its place.