#annotated compendium

[rlinwriteslu]

Those familiar with the Annotated Compendium are probably aware of how interpreting who is saying literally any of the dialogue is entirely dependent on the text color. Now, if the next thing you think of is "wait, doesn't that make it unreadable for colorblind people and for people with screen readers," you're asking the right questions.

That's why I'm happy to announce that I have gone through it and added dialogue tags that go before each line that should be readable by screen readers, and they should also show if the work skin is disabled (manually or by downloading it).

Happy reading!

[soupdrinkinglincoln]

Sure it’s been pointed out here but can we talk about the bookshelf in the background of Caine’s office?

Can’t make them all out but

-Four compendiums on Gloinks, including a ‘comprehensive history volume 1’. One of the Gloinks books is annotated, instead of with typical Gloink shapes, with what I think are hamburgers, going back to what Caine referred to the team of humans as on their return in the second episode (?) (or alternatively the theme of this episode as a whole)

-Egg

-Mindfreak

-Matpat Theory. Can’t quire tell what the volume is but it looks to me almost like volume 37?

-XC, which happens to be 90 in Roman Numerals if that means anything

-Frank

-Recurrence of the number 57 on the blocks

-‘Massacre Droids’

-XDCC, which is similar to the name almost given to Pomni, XDDCC, but which is also apparently a method of file sharing that can be used for piracy?

-The teapot is also once again there

[the---hermit]

April 2025 reading wrap up

The two main themes of this last month of reading were audiobooks (again), and the hunger games. Believe it or not I had never read the original trilogy. I was a teen in the hight of success of the books, I remember everyone around me reading them, but I was not a big reader back in the day. I actually didn't love reading at all. I was only reading graphic novel, and that's it. I think it's more or less in that period of time I started to very very slowly get into reading in my free time, but they journey was long and slow. In the past couple of years I had the idea of actually reading the hunger games trilogy, since I have fallen in love with the dystopic genre, and many have started to consider these books modern classics. The main thing that held me back is the fact that they are ya, and from experience I always struggle with books classified as ya. Then some beloved friends finally conviced me to give them a try and during the past month I listened to the audiobooks, fell in love with them, bought physical copies and then also read the two prequels, and loved them even more. So much so that I am already looking forward to rereading all five books to heavily annotate them like all of my beloved dystopic novels. I am still thinking about them, and I think I will be for a while.

Books I finished:

Emily Wilde's Map Of Otherlands by Heather Fawcett (I had a great time with the second book in the series, I feel like this was a great sequel to the first book, but I am sadly not having a good time with the thrid and final book of the series)

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

Re:Carmilla (I have read the original novella a few times and always loved it, but this audio adaptation was so good. I listened to it as it was coming out, but I plan on relistening to it in the future with no pauses between the various chapters. The performances of the VAs was incredible, they gave so much life to a story I already loved, and I know it's kind of unrelated but this hyped me so much for my yearly reread of Dracula following the Re:Dracula adaptation)

The Handmaid's Tale - graphic novel adaptation

The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes by Suzanne Collins

Sunrise On The Reaping by Suzanne Collins

Books I am currently reading:

Emily Wilde's Compendium Of Lost Tales by Heather Fawcett (ngl this book is holding me back a little bit I am super stuck with it, I kinda want to dnf it, but at the same time I'd like to finish the trilogy, so I have no idea what to do. I read a little of 100 pages and nothing has happened, and I just do not reach for it?)

The Secret Life of Trees - graphic novel adaptation (I am now realizing that one of the themes of my year of reading so far has been graphic novel adaptation of books, and I am having a great time with them)

Magellano: Il Primo Viaggio Intorno Al Mondo by David Salomoni (this is the book I am studying for one of my exams and so far it's really interesting and well written, I have high hopes for this one)

[reductionisms]

gintama mathematics compendium

recent developments in the world of gtama mathematics have convinced me to put together a rough handbook, if you will, of its various disciplines and applications.

the culmination of my gtama-math thinking is a (subjective) understanding that any gtama math is necessarily derivative. gtama mathematicians take gintama's initial unintelligible representation and extract meanings from it into relations we can better understand; in other words, we are looking at the representation of something undescribable and attempting to describe it further. if you like Euclid, this is going from R^n to R^n-1.

the scope of this list is narrow simply because my memory sucks and my knowledge of gtama-math bloggers is small. please send me addendums and updates so i can incorporate them.

My qualifications for this project are that I'm bad at math.

Philosophical Basis

on gintama as a mathematical system (yamameta, 2024)

Set Theory (groups and their relations)

gintoki equivalence class (ibid, 2023)

yorozuya&shinsengumi equivalence class (kraniumet, 2022)

joui 3 set theory (ibid, 2022)

ft. ygh set theory (ibid, 2022)

shoukason equivalence classes (joelletwo, 2023)

Analysis (limits, continuity, sequences, etc)

limit theory (kraniumet, 2023)

zura is schrodinger's wall (ibid, 2022) *geometric analysis

Algebra (concepts and their operations)

shouyou transitive property (yamameta, 2023)

shogun assassination equivalence poem (kraniumet, 2022)

takasugi&gin (me, 2024)

eye equivalence (kraniumet, 2024)

fs castle (ibid, with tags from transjjester, 2023)

cliff (agroupofcrows, 2022)

poles (ibid, 2023)

Euclidean Geometry (parallel lines exist)

types of symmetry (yamameta, 2024)

angle relations (ibid, 2023)

foils/parallels (ibid, 2022)

utsuro samsara geometry (agroupofcrows, 2023)

spiderweb cycles (ibid, 2022)

illustration of the final (ibid, 2023)

cinematic angles (kraniumet, 2022)

shoukason geometry (suchira with regnigt, 2024)

comedy orientations (regnigt, 2023)

Topology (beyond the parallel)

ouroboros framework (yamameta, 2023) *including sequel (application), original poem and its annotation

spheres (ibid, 2023)

spiderweb cycles #2 (agroupofcrows, 2023) *c.f. path connectedness in toplogy

joui 3 homeomorphism (kraniumet, 2022)

joui 4 topology one (ibid, 2024), two (ibid, with my tags, 2024)

Logic (applications)

time math (ibid, 2023)

takasugi math (ibid, 2022)

final triangle math (joelletwo, 2024)

shogun assassination equivalence (triangles) (joelletwo as joelleity, with kraniumet tags, 2023) *tags belong to analysis

shogun assassination equivalence (relational) (agroupofcrows, my tags, 2023)

shouyoutsuro reproductive strategies (joelletwo, 2023)

sakagin existence theory proof (yamameta, 2024)

sacchan/mutsu existence theory proof (ibid, 2024)

Conclusions:

I think gtma math works best when it refuses to describe with generative structures. that is, rather than generating an unrelated, outside structure and forcing gintama into it, we look at gintama and derive structures from it in cooperation with other knowledge. obviously the entire concept of gtama math already seems generative (who in gintama is actually doing math, anyways?), but i think this actually comes down to axioms and proofs, basis and spaces. gintama is already some unknown space; we first acquaint ourselves with the space, consider its pre-existent properties, and then we incorporate outside knowledge-as-description to reduce it into something knowable. this takes a lot of creativity, and is quite literally the procedure of math.

every single person who engages with any text ever is actually doing this in their own heads. we can never know anything, and yet, when we are related to by something from outside ourselves, we are called to incorporate its shadow into who we are. mistakes come when we generate ideas of what outside things should be and force whatever approaches us to fit those ideals (e.g., never-ending complaints about fanon). in a certain sense, though, it's impossible not to do this, which is why the modern mathematical system exists. logic is about appropriate direction; rather than idea in my head->put thing outside me into my idea->this is what the Thing is, math wants to go in the reverse: I can't know the thing outside me->it enters into me nonetheless->from studying it and relating it to other things, i generate ideas. hence axioms, which put the Thing inside your mind while also telling you, what we're talking about, you can never know, it is and isn't real, but you still have to deal with it.

everyone derives, or, in its proper sense, generates, their own frameworks about everything they come into contact with, whether or not they're aware of it. and yet, it takes a shit ton of thought and creativity to shape the framework taking form in your head into something actually expressible in words. the gtama mathematicians cited here are therefore brave warriors of mathematics, literary analysis, philosophy, and general living. pythagoreas has nothing on any of you.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Books that I own that I should get to this year if possible:

Alternative Alcott and Work by Louisa May Alcott

Various books by Margery Allingham

Shirley by Charlotte Bronte (have owned this for over a decade but been too daunted by its length to tackle it)

More Annotated Alice

Various books by Agatha Christie

Man and Wife by Wilkie Collins

Martin Chuzzlewit by Charles Dickens (another scary brick)

Various Dostoevsky books

The Last Courts of Europe: Royal Family Album 1860-1914 by Jeffery Finestone

Cousin Phillis and Other Tales and Ruth by Elizabeth Gaskell

Between Walls and Between Cases by W. R. Gingell

The Child from the Sea by Elizabeth Goudge

Various works by Nathaniel Hawthorne (I got interested in trying to read his works while I visited MA. I had to read The Scarlet Letter in high school, which was unpleasant thanks to our curriculum's pharisaic approach to literature, but I want to revisit it and encounter others as an adult and draw my own conclusions)

Various books by nineteenth-century author Mary J. Holmes (picked up at an antique store including Millbank, which is referred to in the Little House books)

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Other Tales by Washington Irving

The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson (gift from a friend)

Year of the Griffin by Diana Wynne Jones

The Last Empress by Greg King

The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi (a secret pal gift from someone who read my remark on the form that I found it hard to describe my taste in books succinctly, got hung up on the puzzling word "succinct," and scoured the internet for Succinct Books, bless her heart)

Moby-Dick by Herman Melville

Bloody Jack by L. A. Meyer

Voices in the Night by Stephen Millhauser

His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik

The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents by Terry Pratchett (picked up in a shop because I thought the title was funny; I am not planning to dive into the associated series)

The Mysteries of Udolpho by Ann Radcliffe

Robin: Tim Drake Compendium One (or, as I call it, The Tim Tome)

Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Splendors and Glooms by Laura Amy Schlitz

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot (picked this up at a booksale because my sister had had to read it for multiple college classes and I was curious)

The Secret Diary of Lizzie Bennet by Bernie Su (picked up at a booksale forever ago)

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles

The Innocents Abroad by Mark Twain

Various Jules Verne books

The Friendly Persuasion by Jessamyn West

Doomsday Book and Blackout (and All Clear and Cross Talk if I can acquire them) by Connie Willis

The Sinclair's Mysteries series by Katherine Woodfine

Zero Hour: Part One (and Part Two if I can snag it when it's released later this year)

[windsofcourage]

TAP . TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP . TAP TAP .

LINK RAISED HIS HAND to his lips , skimming the pad of his thumb along the ridges of his teeth . for all of his research , link's efforts to get to the bottom of the temple's mystery hadn't proved especially fruitful yet . the earthquake had dumb a number on the already unstable ruins grounds . STILL — LINK COULD REMEMBER what he had been here for , before , even if the memories of his cursed life were embers flickering at the back of his mind .

HE WAS TRYING NOT TO DWELL ON IT TOO MUCH .

. . . it was uncanny .

HE LIFTED THE SHEIKAH SLATE . the shutter clicked and snapped , freezing an image of the temple's front gate . then another , zoomed into the weathered aether symbols on its face . a third , of the grate at his feet — miraculously intact since a week ago . squinting at the last photo , link chewed on the ridge of his thumb again in thought . he wasn't a scholar the way zelda was . far from it . but every ounce of information counted for something . or , that was what the princess would say , certainly .

TAP . TAP TAP . he typed out a small annotation next to the image . a reminder for later . 「 damage has been repaired to the aether temple . some kind of magic maybe ? 」and clicked .

「 SAVE TO COMPENDIUM? > Y N 」

@mischiefmodig / starter call !

[finleyforevermore]

Curious because i was unaware of the existance of a CCCC fandom, any entry level info and suggestions :::?

Hi Cass! I could give you some entry level info sure! :)

CCCC is an acronym for Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium, which is an album by Chonny Jash (yes you're reading that right).

The album is made up of rewritten and recontextualized versions of songs by a currently "on hiatus" band called Tally Hall, along with the band members' own side projects/personal projects, such as Joe Hawley's group Miracle Musical.

I'll try not to give away too much, but the story is about a person referred to as The Whole, who metaphorically splits into 3 different individuals, the purple and blind Heart, the blue and logical Mind, and the red and powerful Soul. Soul, Heart, and Mind (ESPECIALLY Heart and Mind) have got to figure out how to make things work between each other so that Whole can remain...well, Whole!

I do suggest giving the album a listen (if you wanna watch the music videos that go with songs, use this playlist!), and if you want/need to, use excellent artist @/cinnamonsly's annotations of the album! It's an excellent and easy to understand analysis of the album!! :)

There's also W3tBl@nk3t's awesome in-depth song-by-song analysis of the album! You can't really go wrong since they're both really great analyses!!

Oh, and speaking of artists like @/cinnamonsly, if you take a look at the "#cccc" tag on Tumblr, you'll find some awesome art of the characters! The characters technically don't have set in stone appearances so you can imagine em however you want!

There's a discord server for fans of Chonny's music and it's full of lovely people! Would highly recommend joining it! (if you descend far enough down the rabbit hole-)

I think that's all the entry-level stuff you need to know! Hope you have fun dipping your toes into the world of Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium! 💜💙❤️

[invinciblerodent]

Modern AU- what’s the best Christmas/Holiday gift for your Veilguard blorbos?

Ooh, fun!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Let's see....

I think Ver, despite her deep aversion to dealing with- and talking about her emotions, would most likely want something sentimental... but wouldn't ask for it, and would probably lightly make fun of the person gifting it, before displaying it as one of her most prized possessions.

As she lost her family and her home when she was very young, Ver doesn't have many physical reminders of her childhood: not many toys or trinkets (I think the Mercars thought her a bit too old to get her any), and no family heirlooms, so I think there is a part of her that always seeks that sort of meaning.

Which is why her apartment in Minrathous is quite messy and cluttered with all sorts of things that she didn't have the heart to toss littering most surfaces.

So, I think what she'd value very much would be things that are symbolic of the relationship she and the gifter share.... and is preferably either handmade, or refers back to an inside joke or something. (Oh, she'd go WILD for a homemade gag gift. ....And maybe crack a joke about the person being just obsessed with her in a voice that sounds like her throat is closing up with emotion.)

In her playthrough, I kept a large nug statuette displayed in her room, and headcanoned that she jokingly commented on it as Davrin was working on it (something like "Wow, what a wild, vicious beast- I'm sure that one was a hell of a challenging hunt!"), so once it was done, he just sort of left it on the console in her room without a word, and it became her favorite thing in the world very, very quickly.

I think that's rather in-character for them, and very sweet, too. ❤️ (She named it Piglet. It also ended up in a prized spot in the home they eventually started sharing. Soon there was a huge cabinet full of his creations, but Piglet will always be the most special to her.)

I wanna say that Marcus is not much for murkier symbols, and prefers words over other items.

As someone on the Mourn Watch, who's been studying and working with death and grief most of his life, he's seen a fair number of people crumble under the weight of words unsaid or misunderstood, so he doesn't really want to leave room for that in his own life. (Consequently, if he had his way, he'd probably like to live in a box of bookshelves with just a hole cut in one wall for a door.)

I think a perfect gift for him would be a copy of a book the gifter likes (doesn't matter what genre or topic) with bonus points for annotations, or a piece of poetry written in the person's own hand- though not necessarily by them.

I think this meshes really nicely with both his relationship with Varric, AND Bellara- like I quite like to headcanon that once, rather early on, she left a book (something like, idk, Compendium of the Marauding Magus - Studies on Artifacts of the Ancient Elvhen across the Fair'st Lands of Thedas and Their Contemp'rary Applications, by Sister Gaelya of Cumberland) with an excited note about something interesting on page 257 on the cover, and his first thought was "weird way to propose, but I accept".

As for Tristan, I don't think many people in his life have thought to give him more than like, buying him a pint in the nearest dive, so I'm not sure if even he knows what he'd like.

My thought right now is that as someone who is used to traveling around (and lived with very little prior to that), he doesn't really like a lot of clutter. When left to his own devices, he's pretty austere, doesn't care a lot about things lacking purpose, and is not super into the idea of being given things he'll then have to lug around or find a place to keep- but he has a quite deep, if hidden appreciation for beauty, and ephemerality (though he wouldn't use that word probably).

I think he'd like.... consumables, for the most part. Things that are special in their way, but finite. A box of sweets tied up with a little bow. A nicer loose-leaf tea in a satchel. Something that just smells nice, like a piece of soap or a candle. A moment of indulgence.

Hell, wine and dine him, or buy that man flowers. He'll probably scoff and tell you he's not some dithering maiden who needs wooed, but his ears would flush a little, and I'm sure he'd be thinking about it for years to come. (Which is partly why he and Emmrich are going to work so well, imo.)

... I also had this silly little idea that he and Harding would be fast friends- she'll be the first to see the kindness beneath his terseness, and he'll soon grow to think of her as, like, a niece or something. Which makes them sharing embroidery as a hobby really cute, since Tristan doesn't keep his pieces afterwards (because they amount to basically just hand-exercises to him).

When she finds out that after working however many hours on a piece, he just sort of gets rid of them, she'll be utterly scandalized, and forbid him from ever throwing them away again, and I think he'll secretly really enjoy seeing her cherish something so silly so much. (I also like to think that he'll keep a handkerchief with a wonky griffon crest on it in his breast pocket for many, many years.)

+Ray; honestly? A day off and a blowjob.

I don't yet have a shot of him in Veilguard that I like, but god he's so fucking tired, what he deserves is rest and many an orgasm and nothing less

[xenopoem]

"What the fuck is this? What is this? I don't know. Maybe that is okay, not knowing, and maybe it isn't. These words, these phrases, these assaulting passages that strike like a tsunami are shattering the windowpanes of pure consciousness and disturbing the foundations of what has been whispered into our ear, by a robotic earworm, lodged in there. This creature has been there, as early as our conception on this wet planet, a metaphysical and physical thing that destroys all forms of continuity, rational thought, and reality, spreading the seeds of this elusive thing that has been drilled and planted into us, under the guise of fiction/literature, this thing called... art. This isn't a book. This isn't literature. This isn't normal. This will test you. And, the further you go, the more you realise, there is no goalpost, there are no markers to pinpoint and to use to map your way through it. It is this fusion of confusion and submerged identities and manifestos that screams for attention. It provokes you into skipping, forcing your way through the molasse of information and detail, and creating your own narrative from a cargo hold's worth of words, letters, and protein grain ruining your vision. You end up flipping through it and hitting pause on your meat machine, exacting a robotic process, selecting a phrase, a passage, a page, scrolling through the digital device, the paperback, breaking conformity and poisoning the expectation-devil sitting on your shoulder, the little bastard. This book can be read. This piece of art can be used as a physical weapon. This isn't the future. This isn't the present. This is definitely not the past. It is the in-between stages of corruption and renewal. In the blink of an eye, what was once a familiar word or letter transforms into something altogether ultra. Vasicek and Siratori have created a massive nuclear bomb of a "book." Augenblick is something altogether neu and alt. It is fucking impressive." Zak Ferguson (Author of My Body Meat & The System Compendium)

[ryin-silverfish]

Chapter 13: Of Tigers and Ghosts

"When the mind is active, all kinds of mara come into existence; when the mind is extinguished, all kinds of mara would be extinguished."

-This quote from Tripataka was an altered version of Chan Master Huineng's last words, only that the novel replaced 法(law/phenomenon) with 魔(mara/demon)——sidenote, JTTW really likes referencing stories about Huineng's life and deeds.

-Now, mara doesn't always equal to literal demons; rather, it can be anything that obstruct a practitioner from reaching enlightenment, inside or outside. Since it is through the unquiet mind/heart that stray thoughts and wicked desires and distractions arise, the only way to eliminate such obstructions is by understanding and mastering one's own heart/mind.

-About 10-12 days outta Chang'an, we have our first demon encounter. General Yin(寅将军) the tiger, Steer Hermit(特处士) the bull, and the Bear Mountain Lord(熊山君)…

-Hmm, why do these names sound familiar? Ah, it turns out two of them are from this one's favorite pass-time classics, Taiping Guangji(太平广记)! Compiled at the beginning of the Song dynasty, it was half-encyclopedia, half folk tales compendium, and the tale these two demon NPCs came out of could be found in Vol. 434.

-Unlike their later versions, the General Yin and Steer Hermit of Taiping Guangji were pretty cultured, peaceful demons, playing chess and sharing a drink with the scholar who ran into them. Though their drunken discussion did get a little heated later and the two demons angrily walked out(leaving behind paw + hoof prints that clued the scholar to their true identity), they were not man-eaters.

-Continuing from last week's readings, what Tripataka did to pacify the ghost of Boqin's dad was pretty much what a Yogacara monk of the Ming dynasty would do while on the job.

-First, chanting of mantras to clear away bad karma, then, scriptures that offer deliverance for the dead. After that is done, a prayer was written on paper for later use, followed by more scripture-chanting——Guanyin Sutra, Amita Sutra, Lotus Sutra, Mahamayuri Sutra, etc.

-Finally, incenses and food are offered, and the earlier prayer slip + "paper horses" are burnt away. My annotated Chinese edition presented two definitions for "paper horse": 1) horse drawings used in rituals (as mounts for the gods), 2) drawings of guardian gods themselves.

@journeythroughjourneytothewest

[dontlookforme00]

You’ve converted me… 😞

gimme a guide on what order to listen to the cj songs pls 💫

....holy shit. Another one bites the dust. I'm so good at recruiting people

OKAY so, if you're looking for the cccc (Heart, mind, and soul) storyline, ya gotta go to cccc. Shockingly, i know. Its full name is Chonnys Charming Chaos Compendium. It's a 'cover' of Tally Halls, Martins Marvel Mechanical Museum.

You can actually listen to the songs in order, they're pretty chronological!!! I'd recommend listening to them all, if you've got time ofc. If you don't, start off with The Heart Acoustic, then The Mind Electric, then The Soul Eclectic.

But it's pretty important you listen to the whole album eventually

You might not understand it. I sure as hell didn't. Side note, heart=moon, mind= sun. Buuut, after you've listened, and if you like the songs, then I can show you a video analysis on the album. It explains the story and some of the symbolism, and definitely helped clear things up for me!! It's right here, if ya need it.

Those are all the hms songs (for now.) !! But he has other albums, too.

Most notably, Gothic Whore, or the Novel Lyric Hunt. It's a whole bunch of songs about various gothic stories, including but not limited to, Carmilla, Dracula, Adam (frankensteins monster) and Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. I don't actually have that much for this album, other than, it's very nice! Very cool.

The lyrics are pretty easy to interpret, especially if you know the stories. If not, there's always the genius lyrics annotations lmao. No joke that's how I did it.

Ofc, you don't have to read into the lyrics or anything, but if you wanna have all the subtext for the fandom, it sure fucking helps. I also find it pretty fun.

You can ignore all this and do as you please!!! Just have fun, his music is fucking great

Other great albums include, covered in discontent, That Handsome Devil Power Hour, the before, and The Tim Minchin Power Hour. Cya!!

[wolfislost]

Fantasizing about having the time and resources to obsessively research my kintype.

Think about it-

A huge vintage style world map covered in writing marking the locations of various werewolf myths, tracking the spread of stories about our kind as they travel by word of mouth. Various pins and coloured string connecting places and events with common elements.

Newspaper clippings and print outs of books no longer available, lost to the passage of time. Each one furiously annotated, underlined in some places and highlighted in others.

Dozens of mythology books and compendiums of legends from across the world, with pages of interest marked in bold colours- references marked for further research.

[xtruss]

Mappa Mundi: The Greatest Medieval Map In The World

— By Anna Bressanin | Wednesday February 14, 2024

Credit: CalimaX/Alamy

From a small island in the Venetian lagoon, a 15th-Century monk somehow designed an astonishingly accurate planisphere of the world.

On the second floor of the Library of Saint Mark in Venice, a map of the world occupies an entire room – and rightfully so, considering its historical significance and imposing size (2.4m x 2.4m, bigger than a king size bed). Completed in 1459, the Mappa Mundi is the compendium of all the geographical knowledge of the time and is arguably the greatest medieval map of the world.

Almost twice as large as the famous English Hereford Mappa Mundi (ca 1300), this exquisitely decorated planisphere showcasing Europe, Africa and Asia was the masterpiece of Fra Mauro, a monk of the Camaldolese order who lived on the small Venetian island of San Michele.

Although the monk never set foot outside Venice, his Mappa Mundi is amazingly accurate in its depiction of cities, provinces, continents, rivers and mountains. America isn't on the map, since Christopher Columbus would take his trip across the ocean 33 years later; and nor is Australia. But Japan (or in Fra Mauro's words, "Cipango") is there, making its first appearance on a Western chart. Even more surprisingly, Africa is correctly drawn as circumnavigable, long before the Portuguese rounded the Cape of Good Hope in 1488.

"It's the oldest surviving medieval map," said Meredith Francesca Small, author of the book Here Begins the Dark Sea, also describing it as the most complete medieval map to survive into modernity. "It's the first map to be based on science more than religion. The Hereford map is all propaganda, religious propaganda."

While the Hereford map depicted Heaven and Hell and was designed to serve as a compendium of the world's knowledge from a spiritual perspective, Fra Mauro took a scientific approach to his cartography. He declared in his inscriptions that he would "verify the text by practical experience, investigating for many years and frequenting personas worthy of faith who have seen with their own eyes what I faithfully report here".

There's more than scientific and historical relevance to it, though. The most striking aspect of the map, which immediately catches your eye after ascending the white marble stairs of the Library of Saint Mark, where some of the world's most precious and ancient manuscripts are kept, is its sheer splendour.

"It's huge, beautiful, fantastically crafted," said historian Pieralvise Zorzi. Beyond the outlines of countries and continents, Fra Mauro's Mappa Mundi is a magnificent golden and blue painting composed of minute drawings of gorgeous palaces, bridges, sailing ships, rolling blue waves and outsized sea creatures, plus a total of 3,000 cartigli – red and blue annotations written in ancient Venetian that tell stories, anecdotes and legends.

In Norway, for instance, a cartiglio indicates the location where the Venetian merchant Pietro Querini came ashore after a shipwreck. As the tale goes, he not only survived the accident, but he brought stockfish back home, thus starting the Venetian passion for baccalà (the creamy fish spread you can find in every osteria).

The Exquisitely Decorated Mappa Mundi measures an impressive 2.4m x 2.4m. Credit: Bildagentur-online/Getty Images

Another cartiglioindicates Tharse, the "kingdom where the Magi came from", then thought to be located somewhere between China and Mongolia.

All these annotations are legible on the map, and are relatively easy to decipher for Venetian speakers since the current dialect is not dramatically different from the idiom of the 15th Century. However, the inscriptions are also translated into English on an interactive map created by the Galileo Institute and Museum in Florence. Displayed on a flat screen in the same exhibition space as the Mappa Mundi, it provides the somewhat peculiar experience of entering the mind of a savant monk and reading the world through his medieval eyes.

It was not a small world. Although Fra Mauro lived his entire life in his island monastery in the lagoon backwaters, he tapped into the knowledge of travellers and merchants who crossed paths in the flourishing trading city of Venice that was "the capital of cartography at the time", explained Saint Marks librarian Margherita Venturelli.

“Maps Were Fundamental For Trade Because If You Have A Good Map, You Can Go Everywhere”

"Maps were fundamental for trade because if you have a good map, you can go everywhere," added Zorzi. "Every innovation in terms of cartography was welcome in Venice, and well-paid."

The Library of Saint Mark is home to one of the world's most significant collections of classical texts. Credit: Mo Peerbacus/Alamy

Fra Mauro's main source for Asia was merchant and fellow Venetian Marco Polo, who had published his travel accounts more than 150 years earlier. On the map, 150 locations are directly traceable to Marco Polo's Travels; for instance, the Mount of Adam was placed in the island of Ceylon (today's Sri Lanka), where, according to legends recounted by Polo, the first man's body was believed to be buried, together with his teeth and even his bowl, which was supposed to have the magical property of multiplying food.

Besides Polo, Fra Mauro had numerous sources around the globe. The fact that the chart looks upside down to contemporary Western eyes, with the south on top, might indicate that he was inspired by Arab cartography, like a 12th-Century map by North African geographer Muhammad al-Idrisi. The numbers that Fra Mauro lists as "the Distance of Heavens" are from mathematician and astronomer Campanus de Novara. "From the centre of the world to the surface of the Earth there are 3,245 miles. From the centre of the world to the lower surface of the heavens of the Moon there are 107,936 miles," and so on, he writes in the top left corner of the Mappa Mundi.

Fra Mauro also displayed a healthy scepticism and wasn't shy of criticising – as well as sometimes using –the revered Ptolemy's Geography, a treaty written in Alexandria, Egypt, by Claudius Ptolemy in 150 CE and lost for centuries to the Western world until it was rediscovered and translated in Latin again in the 1400s.

Fra Mauro's main source for Asia was merchant and fellow Venetian Marco Polo. Credit: The History Collection/Alamy

This Renaissance rationalist attitude also showed in the way he placed Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden outside of the planisphere, making it clear that Heaven is not a place on Earth; a statement that separated religion and geography and was forward thinking for any medieval man, let alone a monk.

These novelties, and the fact that the map was completed few decades before Christopher Columbus sailed to America, contribute to Fra Mauro's Mappa Mundi being considered the geographical link between the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. To contemporary visitors, his map is a reminder of the fact that maps were once not only practical tools, but also a matter of beauty – and a way to tell the most extraordinary stories.

[fashionbooksmilano]

Jan Christian Sepp The Book of Marble

A representation of Marble Types 1776

Directed and produced by Benedikt Taschen

Geert-Jan Koot

Taschen , Cologne 2023, 312 pages, 32 26 cm, Hardcover in slipcase, 100 richly hand-coloured plates, ISBN 978-3836594349

euro 100,00

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Famous First Edition: First printing of 10,000 numbered copies

An exhaustive compendium of marble, Afbeelding der Marmor Soorten (A Representation of Marble Types) depicted 570 samples across 100 colour plates, accompanied by texts in five languages. Published in 1776 at the peak of the Enlightenment, it is regarded, rightly, as one of the finest illustrated scientific books of the era.Over the course of the 18th century, beautiful books that categorised, annotated, and illuminated the Enlightenment pursuit of learning across Europe had become increasingly popular. Knowledge was everything and everywhere, and these books provided it for those not wealthy enough to build their own personal collections of rare and exotic objects. Marmor Soorten, one such edition, took the standards of both aesthetics and categorisation to a whole new level.Jan Christiaan Sepp and his father Christian – himself a respected collector – had already earned a reputation for luxury publications on scientific themes, starting with Christian’s own Nederlandsche Insecten (Insects of the Netherlands). But it was his son who created the visual masterpiece Marmor Soorten, revising an existing German publication from 1775 by Adam Ludwig Wirsing. The result – published in 11 instalments to a print run of around 100 – was among the finest examples of its kind.Featuring new photography to depict the intricate details of the marble samples, this edition brings an unknown treasure back to relevance. The plates, each meticulously hand-coloured and arranged with painstaking precision, have an abstract-art feel that gives this volume an almost modern slant.This edition reproduces the pages from two copies of Marmor Soorten held at the State and University Library in Dresden and the Getty Research Institute in Los Angeles. Reprinting the work in full for the first time, The Book of Marble brings that rare blend of beauty and encyclopedic knowledge to a wider audience.

04/06/23

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[mandosaur]

Dance of the Mythosaur and Dragon (1/?)

Fandom: The Mandalorian, House of the Dragon

Pairing: Din Djarin / OC

Chapter: I (Daenys)

Warning: Allusions to incest, mentions of blood and injuries.

Word Count: 4,791 Words

Estimated Reading Time: 17:25

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Aemond’s injury is a gruesome sight to see. Daenys fights to hold in her horror as she takes a seat next to her younger brother. He blinks a lavender eye wearily at her from his place in his bed while the other rests under heaps of bandages.

“Does it hurt today?” She asks the question softly as she eyes the milk of the poppy on the bedside table.

Aemond has drunk it all already. The maesters have already warned him against consuming more than what he is able to. The pain will only get worse if he teaches himself to become reliant on their concoctions to hold it at bay.

Aemond, to his credit, presents a brave face. He sits up in his bed although it pains him and looks away. His fists clench around the fabric of his sheets in an attempt to fight off the yelp of pain he surely wants to release.

“It will heal soon enough,” he repeats the words he has heard the maesters utter so often, “The swelling has gone down.”

Daenys presses her lips together and softly brushes some hair out of his forehead.

If she closes her eyes, she can still remember that horrid day. She had been sleeping when the sound of screams had woken her up. She had dressed herself in a hurry only to stumble into the throne room to find Aemond in a chair covered in blood and her nephews shouting over each other. From what she had gathered among the arguments, there had been a terrible fight. Her nephew, Lucerys, had taken her brother’s eye with a knife.

The nightmares from that scene have yet to leave her.

“Do you want me to read to you?” She tries to make her voice sound upbeat, normal. Aemond has had enough people fretting over his form and weeping at his bedside. He needs someone who can feign a sense of normalcy just to give him a sense of hope.

On his bedside table rests an old tome of dragons. She recognizes the worn leather cover from the many times she has read it to him before. It is a compendium of all the Targaryen dragons that have passed through their family as well as those still in the wilderness.

Aemond has always enjoyed the book. Like Daenys, his dragon egg had turned to stone in his cradle. He had been tormented by their family for not being a dragon rider like them, and the book had given him a sense of fascination. He loved to hear of all the different dragons he could one day tame.

Of course, now he had Vhaegar. Vhaegar was smaller than her Cannibal, but it was a fearsome beast that towered over buildings and had once flown with Visenya. A hardened war soldier if there ever was one.

She flips the book to Vhaegar’s section.

“If you hurry up and heal, you and I can finally ride our dragons together. I can teach you how to soar across the skies and touch the tips of clouds. We can race to see who has the fastest mount,” Daenys teases.

Even amidst his pain, a tiny corner of his lips quirks up in a smile. Aemond rests his head across his pillow and his fingers go to the edge of his bandage. He winces when his fingertips brush across a particularly tender spot.

“I would win,” he challenges, “Vhaegar Can outfly your cannibal. Speed over size.”

Daenys hums as she finds Vhaegar’s section. It details every battle the dragon has fought in under Visenya and a few other additions from Laena’s time riding it. Some day, the tome will be updated to annotate Aemond’s claim. She hopes the historians will at least note that her brother has declared the loss of his eye an even exchange and not a horrific tragedy. Wings for an eye make him seem braver and less of a victim.

“I doubt that which is why you should hurry up and heal,” Daenys remarks, “So we can put it to the test. Now Aegon won’t have anything to torment you with.”

She flips the tome again. This time, the image of the Cannibal spreads out across the pages. The book describes it as a fearsome beast in the wild unclaimed that devours its own kind. A lone addition at the bottom of the page bears her name and the year when she claimed it. The first Targaryen to ever tame it.

“Can I go see her?” Aemond asks suddenly. His eye drifts outside to the fields.

Somewhere past the palace walls, Vhaegar is being corralled in by the dragon keepers. She had been brought back to the Red Keep following Laena’s funeral, but Aemond had been ordered to stay in his room as his eye healed.

“Your mother asked me to keep you here,” Daenys answers quietly.

Aemond huffs in exasperation. He knows his mother, Queen Alicent, means well, but he is full of conflict. The pain in his eye rages daily, he is tired of staring up at the same four walls for days on end, and he is still resentful of his father, King Viserys, for not aiding him.

Viserys had not stopped by to see his son since the night he had been brought to his bed by the Maesters. Daenys believed he felt sick by the sight of his son so horridly injured, but Aemond believed he was unbothered. Even the night Aemond had been brought to him covered in blood and missing an eye, Viserys had shown more concern towards his grandsons than his own blood.

“How about this? How about I promise to race you on the Cannibal when you recover? We’ll race until we’re tired,” Daenys offered.

Aemond thinks on the offer then gives a quiet nod. His fingers drift to the bandage. A thin line of blood has bloomed on the white fabric indicating it is due for another change.

Daenys gets up.

“Sit up,” she orders.

She has seen the Maesters change the bandages enough times to know how to do it herself. She’s not afraid of blood or infection having also been present each time Alicent gave birth. She can do the changes herself if Aemond allows it.

Aemond’s lone eye stares at her wearily before complying. He winces as she undoes the bandage.

The eye looks worse underneath the layers of fabric. A long jagged scar etches past raw, red flesh. The Maesters had done all they could that night, but there was no saving his eye. Lucerys had completely destroyed it in his clumsy swipe of a knife.

Daenys keeps her expression neutral. She is aware of her little brother watching her intently trying to gauge her reaction. He has already seen Alicent nearly faint when she first saw the injury and the Maesters pull faces. She will not give him another insult by reacting.

“I can’t give you more milk of the poppy. You’ll have to be brave for the pain. A dragon rider sustains a great many injuries in the battlefield. Your scar will just be another story you can tell over cups of ale one day,” she gets to work quickly. The Maesters have thankfully left some extra bandages to the side of his bed.

Aemond grits his teeth.

“I’m disfigured. No one will want me now. Someday I’ll take Lucerys’ eye-“

Daenys winces. She fears the rage and hatred she can hear in his voice. It pains her to think of her family so terribly fractured. She loves both sides of her family equally.

Rhaenyra, Daemon, her nephews, nieces, and Viserys are her family. She has grown up with them, watched them grow up, and loves them all. Rhaenyra is her full blooded sister. She is the blood of the dragon that rages inside their veins and the best parts of Viserys and Daemon combined. Her nephews she’s held in her arms and seen them be brought to this world as she held her sister’s hand through child birth. Daemon is the uncle that carried her as a child and gave her a Valyrian steel dagger for her birthday to protect herself with. Viserys is the loving father who doted on her once her mother had passed and often told her that she was the spirit of Aemma reincarnated.

But Alicent, Aemond, Helaena, Daeron, and Aegon are also her family. Alicent is the mother who watched her grow up into an adult and loved her as her own. Aemond, Helaena, Daeron, and Aegon are her siblings too who she held as infants and watched grow up. They are extensions of her, a family that has loved her from the beginning, and she holds no ill will towards them unlike Rhaenyra and Daemon.

To have two sides of her family in conflict with one another makes her sick to her stomach. She fears the resentment in Aemond’s voice. He is so young and already so poised to strike like a dragon lying in wait…

Aemond senses her discomfort and changes the subject. He is incredibly perceptive. A lifetime of managing his siblings and soothing his mother’s worries has taught him to read the emotions of others.

“The Maesters say I’ll have to wear an eye patch. They’re designing one meant to hide my eye,” he remarks.

Daenys finishes securing the bandages around his eye.

“You don’t want to wear it out? Show the castle what a fearsome soldier you are?”

She teases him quietly hoping to lift his spirits. He needs all the comfort he can get. Aemond makes a sound at the back of his throat. He thanks her quietly and eases back into the pillows. A strand of his white hair falls across his forehead.

“No,” he looks away, “Mother says I should wear a prosthetic and eyepatch. She worries what the sight of my injury will do to the people I meet. I expect the prosthetic to look hideous too.”

Daenys remembers Alicent in the nights after his injury. She had wept at his bedside and prayed to the Seven until her knees had bled. She sobbed when the Maesters had carried his body to his bed. Pale, bleeding to death, and missing an eye, Aemond had looked like a corpse nestled beneath the rows of bandages and blankets. Alicent had held Daenys’ hand so tightly she worried she’d break her fingers as she had prayed to the Mother for Aemond’s healing.

“I have a sapphire,” Daenys recalls, “Perhaps that will be more interesting than a prosthetic? It was my mother’s. I Can present it to you as a gift.”

Her fingers go to the necklace at her throat. It’s a tiny blue sapphire on a silver chain which had once belonged to Aemma Targaryen. A precious heirloom gifted to her after her mother’s death. It means the world to her and she hates to part with it-

But her family means the world to her too. If the sapphire will bring joy to her little brother, it will be a small price to pay.

She slips the necklace from her neck and places it gently in Aemond’s hand.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to. A gift from me to you. An eye is a precious thing to lose, so a precious gem is an equal exchange.”

She rises to her feet and leaves Aemond stunned. Offering him a small smile, she presses a light kiss to his forehead and quietly excuses herself.

———————————————

Alicent is sitting next to Helaena when she finds them. Helaena has another insect in her hands. A grasshopper which stares at her with beady little eyes and scuttles across her fingers.

Alicent eyes the bug with a note of displeasure in her eyes. A note is laid open on her lap. Daemon’s seal hangs off one side of it.

“You received a summons,” Alicent quietly says, “From Daemon.”

She makes no effort to hide her distaste at his name. Alicent had already disliked Daemon before, been weary of his violent outbursts and crass behavior, but now she detests him. He sided with Rhaenyra after her son had taken the eye of hers.

Daenys takes the letter from her silently. A sense of dread fills her stomach.

She knows what Daemon wants. Before the disaster that was Laena’s funeral, Rhaenyra had approached her.

Daenys is 20. She is at an age where many will consider her an old maid. Already whispers in the kingdom mocked both of Viserys’ daughters through Aemma. The rumors claimed that Rhaenyra was more man than woman daring to consider herself the heir to the seven kingdoms, and Daenys an old maid who no one would want for a wife. With such distasteful claims, it only made sense for her to be married off.

Thus far, she had managed to stay Viserys’ and Alicent’s hand. Viserys had agreed to allowing her to remain unwed in fear that he would lose yet another reminder of Aemma like he had Rhaenyra in marrying her off. Alicent had floated the idea of engaging her to Daeron or Aemond but had backed down when Daenys had pleaded with her not to. She begged that she had been too young when the conversations had taken place, and a far away look full of pain had crossed Alicent’s expression before she had taken back her suggestions.

Daemon and Rhaenyra, however, had not given up. They intended to use her as a political tool for an alliance. They had discussed which Westerosi house to engage her off to and then moved on to the planets beyond theirs. Daenys had at first resisted until Rhaenyra had begged her to help her secure her throne. Seeing her sister nearly desperate had broken the last of her resolve and she had finally agreed.

Now the letter requesting her presence had arrived. Daemon had surely found her a spouse and wanted her to travel to him. From his lands in Pentos, they’d depart to whatever foreign planet he had sold her off to.

“Have you requested a ship for me?” Daenys asks, “I will need to be there soon.”

Alicent picks at her fingernails until the skin bleeds, “You need not go. I can make an excuse. The less time you spend with that dangerous man the better-“

“He’s my uncle,” Daenys defends him, “I will go. Tell the staff to prepare a ship. If I leave by tomorrow, I can be there early.”

To the side, Helaena lifts her eyes from her grasshopper. Her gaze sweeps over the letter in Daenys’ hand.

“The mythosaur will fly side by side with the dragon,” she mumbles, “A war of stars will end when the sword, black as the night sky, pierces the heart of a land made of glass.”

Daenys and Alicent turn to her in confusion, but Helaena has already returned her attention to her bug. Alicent sighs used to her cryptic chatter.

“What does he want with you? Is it not enough his nephew has taken your brother’s eye? Shall he take you away now too?”

“He is my family too,” Daenys responds, “All of you are.”

Her last words are firm. Her family may be content with ripping itself apart, but Daenys wants no part in the conflict. She belongs to both worlds and will not be made to take sides.

Alicent presses her lips together. She looks tired, Daenys notes. There are dark circles under her eyes and lines on her face that weren’t there before. Her hair is in its usual style but less composed and her clothes are slightly more disheveled as if she had hurried her handmaids in dressing her. She has the weight of kingdoms upon her shoulders and the worry for her children embedded deep into her very soul.

Since Aemond’s injury, there has been an uneasy tension in the air that permeates every corner.

Alicent had taken a knife to the heir to the throne. Before the King, before the Kingsguard, before her step grandchildren and children, she had lunged at Rhaenyra’s son with a blade.

Everyone had seen their queen lose their composure. There were still whispers in the air that painted Alicent out to be a mad queen with hatred in her heart. Quite a few of Rhaenyra’s supporters had believed Viserys should have imprisoned Alicent after what she did.

Daenys had wept to see her stepmother and sister fight as her nephews had pressed their faces into her dress. Little Lucerys had blanched and cried his aunt’s name in fear when he thought he might lose an eye. The battle lines had been drawn that day in the throne room.

Greens versus Blacks.

Velaryons versus Targaryens.

Alicent had been forced to kneel before Viserys and beg his forgiveness claiming herself to be a mother frightened for her son. Viserys had quietly accepted her apologies but had done nothing to mend the broken pieces of their family. The blood line was pulled taut and fraying at the edges slowly tearing itself apart.

Daenys felt caught in the middle of it all. Her family in the Red Keep wanted her to stay and remain with them. Show them that she was on their side and would support them the day Viserys took his last breath.

But her family in Dragonstone called her to them. They wanted her to fly past stars and constellations in their support.

Everything felt so wrong and so painful.

“Shall I tell the servants to pack your belongings? Or will you return?” Alicent finally asks.

At her side, Helaena looks up to with a look of worry across her pretty features. Much like the rest, she didn’t want to lose Daenys.

Daenys stares down at the envelope in her hand. Her uncle’s messy scrawl demands her presence. He has kept his message brief knowing that whatever he writes will end up in the hands of ”that cunt, Otto Hightower”, but Daenys knows the true message at the heart of his words.

Once she leaves the Red Keep, there will be no going back. She will be smuggled out into space and will seek out another planet. Perhaps, she may never return to Westeros at all.

“I will return someday,” she hears herself say, “I promise.”

Alicent closes her eyes and bows her head. She knows Daenys has just made a choice. Despite her professed neutrality, she has already fallen into the hands of one side of the war.

“Very well, I will tell Sir Criston to accompany you-“

“No,” Daenys interrupts, “I am sure my uncle will send his cloaks for me. Sir Criston’s presence will not be welcome.”

Helaena’s grasshopper jumps from her hands and away from the stone floor. With a few quick jumps, it disappears around a corner. Helaena looks up at Daenys.

“Do you have to go?” She asks quietly.

Daenys nearly wilts at the sad expression on her face. Helaena is her little sister. She has been by her side since the moment Alicent brought her into the world. It will pain her deeply to say goodbye-

But her other sister needs her too. She cannot ignore the pleas of another sister across Westeros.

“I will be back someday, bug, you always knew I’d have to leave someday,” Daenys stretches her fingers out to braid Helaena’s hair. There are little leaves amidst the blonde tresses where Helaena has surely crawled across the garden in search of her beloved insects.

Alicent watches her quietly as Helaena bites her lower lip. Her eyes are already a little red.

“Do not let them use you as a tool, Daenys. Daemon sees value only in what he can use,” she warns.

“Empty promises yield full coffins,” Helaena whispers. She does not elabore further and Alicent speaks over her.

“The Seven protect you on your journey, dear one. If you ever need anything, send me a letter. Wherever you are, I will send men to retrieve you and bring you back home,” Alicent swears. She stands up and brushes a hand across her skirts. Once more, she looks exhausted, “Shall you tell your father or shall I?”

Daenys braids Helaena’s hair in a little crown at the top of her head. She pins it back with a pin from her own hair.

“Tell him I must travel and ask the servants to prepare my things. I reckon I will have a long journey ahead of me.”

Alicent knows she is not merely talking about Dragonstone. Her lips draw in a tight line, but she sighs to herself and agrees. The star of the Seven winks at her throat as she brushes past her two daughters and disappears.

Daenys wonders if she will see other seven pointed stars in the night sky once she takes off in her special ship sailing for her destiny.

———————————————

Rhaenyra greets her when she arrives at her home. Her nephews stand to the side along with her twin cousins. Daemon has his arms crossed as Daenys arrives on Cannibal’s back.

The Cannibal allows her to dismount him. Daenys pats his neck soothingly. The dragon keepers are ready to take him to the other dragons. Syrax and Caraxes coo in the distance having caught sight of him as he flew across the blue sky.

“Rhaenyra,” Daenys makes a dash for her sister. It has been a while since she has last seen her.

Rhaenyra’s lips turn upwards in a smile and she wraps her arms around Daenys. Daenys is her little sister. She has loved her the moment Aemma called her into the birthing chamber and introduced her to the tiny form swaddled in blankets.

Daemon hangs off to the side, face impatient. He has another letter tucked into his pockets. The crest stamped across it is not one Daenys recognizes and her stomach turns at the knowledge that it belongs to the house she will marry into. It is a beast with two tusks at its front.

Her nephews and cousins take turns embracing her. Little Luce presses his face into her neck and melts into her embrace. He is the kindest of her nephews and the one who always clung to her skirts and wanted to be tucked in when Rhaenyra and Laenor lived in the Red Keep. It is hard to believe the young boy that presses his face deep into her neck like an infant is the same one who blinded her brother.

“Niece,” Daemon greets. His arm goes around her waist in greeting but his form is tense.

He doesn’t trust her, Daenys realizes. She has spent too long in the company of the Greens. Daemon is weary of her even if he means to use her in his schemes.

Perhaps that is what motivated him to send her across the cosmos. Maybe it was less the need for extraterrestrial aid and more a desire to keep her at a distance from where she could not support Aegon’s claim.

“Children, go to your lessons. The dragon keepers will take you flying today,” Rhaenyra orders. There are protests from the children who wish to spend more time with their aunt. A look from Rhaenyra silences them and she physically walks them to the dragon keep.

Daenys taps her foot in anxiety. Left alone with Daemon, she drops the smile from her face.

“Have you found me a husband, uncle?” She sounds exhausted, “Will I leave so soon?”

“I have. The Mandalorians have accepted your hand. They are a people of warriors across the stars. They say their armor is made of a material even Valyrian steel cannot break through. Their new leader was crowned not long ago and he needs a wife to provide him heirs. We will deliver you to him as soon as we can. I have already arranged for a starship to be prepared.”

“And my father knows?” Daenys narrows her eyes at him. She knows he doesn’t.

“I will tell him once the marriage contract has been signed and you have consummated your marriage. Viserys’ will does not extend past our skies. He will not be able to bring you home even if he decides to use the starships we have. I will take whatever vengeful wrath he has for me as long as it means you sit the throne on Mandalore.”

Daenys sighs. She suspected Daemon had kept her father in the dark given Viserys’ calm acceptance of her traveling. He probably hadn’t even realized she would not be returning back to the Red Keep much less Westeros. Nor, she reckons, he knew she would be wed off to a stranger.

“And my sister agreed to this?”

It stings to know that Rhaenyra agreed to sell her off. Daenys always thought that her sister would be on her side. Once sold off to Laenor, she imagined her sister would not force her into her own arranged marriage.

But war makes hypocrites out of allies.

“I would not have asked this of you if I thought there was another way,” Rhaenyra calls out as she returns, “But we need fighters. You know a war is brewing. The Hightowers will not let me take my throne peacefully. I must gather as many allies as I can. You once swore to me you would help me keep my crown.”

Her sister grabs her hand and squeezes it tightly. Daenys is reminded of the day Rhaenyra had been crowned heir. The lords of the other houses had bent the knee and recognized her as their next queen. An 8 year old Daenys had also clasped her hand after the celebration and promised to do anything she could to support her sister.

She just hadn’t imagined how far Daemon had been willing to stretch that promise.

“I do not want to shed the blood of our brothers and sister-“

“Then don’t,” Rhaenyra interrupts Daemon before he has a chance to retort something dark, “Marry for me instead. Make allies with these Mandalorians and rule them as their queen. Ask them for their fighters when the time comes and use their planet to scare Otto Hightower into not using Aegon as a tool against me. If he is too afraid to fight me, you will not need to spill any blood. I would never ask you to do this if I didn’t think it was the best option.”

Daenys stares down at their clasped hands. She is reminded of all the times Rhaenyra held her hand as children when she was scared.

The first time she had ever ridden on a dragon, it had been on Syrax. Daenys’ dragon egg had turned to stone when she was an infant and doomed her to a life of never flying according to the dragon keepers. Daenys had cried at the gardens seeing her sister soar across the sky with Syrax despite Aemma’s attempts to soothe her and Viserys’ quiet words of comfort.

When Rhaenyra had landed again and seen her sister in tears, she had rushed towards her and taken her hand. Ignoring their mother’s protests, she had helped Daenys up into Syrax’s saddle and taken her flying above the clouds. Any time Daenys had grown scared because the dragon had flown too fast, Rhaenyra would squeeze her hand to soothe her. Soon, the pair had descended into giggles and screams of glee as they drifted past the clouds and up towards the gleaming sun.

On the day that Aemma had died, when Rhaenyra had returned from the tourney and their mother’s screams had echoed through the halls of the palace followed by their father’s wails, Rhaenyra had taken her hand and squeezed it tightly. She had soothed Daenys and held her head to her chest as her own tears had run down her cheeks.

And on the day of the funeral for their mother and little brother, as their bodies had been consumed by dragon fire, Rhaenyra had held her hand tightly and promised to protect her. She had not let go once even after the mourners had gone back inside. The two had drawn strength and courage from each other as their hearts cracked for the memory of their mother and brother.

It was for those memories of her sister that Daenys allowed herself to be used as a bargaining chip. She and Rhaenyra were the last of Aemma’s memory. She would always love her sister and have her back even if it pained her.

“Tell me about these Mandalorians then,” Daenys hides her sadness as she stares across the waters of Westeros and says goodbye to her planet for one last time, “If I am to become their ruler, I must know everything about them.”

[obsessingoverl]

My new years resolution probably doesn't seem super exciting (read relevant book of scripture once a month) but I'm getting 12 markers to annotate for each month and making cute calendars for it and it just makes me happy

I think my other goal is to find new recipes for meals I like and start making a compendium for when I move out

every time i ask people if they do any new years resolutions its all ooooo i dont like making them bc i fail or ohhhhh no i couldnt keep up wiht that and then when they ask me and i tell them about Pasta Quest (i am eating as many different pasta shapes as possible in the space of a year) or when i did Fruit Adventures (every time i saw a fruit i had never eaten before id get one and eat it and read the wikipedia article about it) theyre like hang on i forgot you can make Fun Ones i want a fun one