#cadfael references

[bitchfitch]

I just want to say if you think it's bad for Monty and Cadfael at the end of that last post you don't know what's coming for them🙏

[general-sleepy]

Doing research for historical fiction is always an interesting experience. Because on one hand, I chose the period I'm writing about for a reason, and it's nifty to add some historical accuracy. On the other hand, I'm absolutely going to jettison anything that makes the story less fun. Like, sometimes it's "Ooh, that gives me an idea!" and sometimes it's "Oh really, it took that long to do this thing? Yeah, it's ignore that."

[youryurigoddess]

Darling, wake up, an official confirmation of a brand new Good Omens 3 character with a forename and surname just dropped — one that reveals the first actor outside of the original S1 and S2 ensemble cast at that!

Hamilton Hodell talent agency has surreptitiously revealed that Sean Pertwee (the Third Doctor's son, known for his performance alongside Derek Jacobi in Cadfael TV series) will appear in Good Omens 3: The Finale (2025) as “Brian Cameron” — possible reference to Gaslight (1944)?

Sean Pertwee on the left, Joseph Cotten — the Gaslight’s Brian Cameron — on the right for some comparison.

[reloha]

Jacobi and McKellen as grand marshals of New York City's 2015 pride march.

All Good Omens (show) fans will know Derek Jacobi as the Metatron. His brief role on Doctor Who is also getting a lot of mention in recent posts, but I'm not going to talk about any of that.

Like his Vicious co-star Ian McKellen, Jacobi has had a long and illustrious career in theatre, television, and film. McKellen and Jacobi met when they were at Cambridge.

I'm not a huge fan of the Daily Mail, but this article, an interview with the two actors, is quite interesting. I'll just quote this part:

Jacobi says he came out to his mother when he was at university. ‘She said, “All young men, go through this phase, don’t worry.” I remember saying, “Don’t tell Dad.”’ He doesn’t know to this day if she did. ‘I think she did, but I don’t know. But they were wonderful, my parents, not much was said but they kind of knew, they got it.’

McKellen hasn’t heard his friend talk of this before. ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard that,’ he says, genuinely moved. ‘I never came out to my family. Biggest regret of my life.’ It turns out he didn’t even come out to Derek at university, even though it’s always been reported that he had something of a crush on him. 

‘Yes, I did fancy Derek, but I didn’t act on it, God, no. It was illegal, remember. I do get on my high horse about it, because it was so difficult. There were no gay clubs you could go to. No gay bars, no gay newspaper, nothing. What there was was a bit sleazy, I suspect. One of the reasons I became an actor was that you could meet gay people. Even then everything was difficult. When you went to America they asked, “Are you now, or have you ever been, homosexual?” I lied on the form. It was a different world.’

I want to talk about Vicious for a bit, the ITV britcom in which Derek Jacobi and Ian McKellen play an aging gay couple, (respectively) a homemaker, Stuart Bixby, and an actor, Freddie Thornhill, for fourteen episodes.

Freddie (McKellen) tells Stuart (Jacobi) about a part he's hoping to get.

I had to add these for the Broadchurch reference.

It's a law that British actors of a certain age play this part.

I couldn't find one with Michael Sheen and the skull, but here he is in the role.

McKellen did the part again at 81 in an age-blind production.

Jacobi's big breakout was the titular role in I, Claudius on the BBC in 1976.

In the '90s, Jacobi played amateur sleuth and 12th century monk, Brother Cadfael on the ITV series.

I had watched some of Vicious before, but, spurred on by Jacobi's reappearance on Good Omens, looked for it again and watched both seasons a couple of weeks ago. Because I love a good fancast and Jacobi and Sheen (at least as Aziraphale) remind me a little of each other, I couldn't help but think that Jacobi and McKellen in their youth could have played a version of Aziraphale and Crowley. (There have been a couple of posts noting this about Jacobi, and that he might have been up for the part if it had been done soon after the book came out.)

Jacobi, left, and McKellen, right (obviously).

I also think that Tennant and Sheen could have pulled off playing Freddie and Stuart in a flashback.

An even younger version of Freddie and Stuart does appear in the series, however, played by Luke Treadaway and Samuel Barnett.

Also good casting! They do a great job playing McKellen and Jacobi playing Freddie and Stuart.

Shoutout to this post by @ember-knights, that suggested Good Omens fans should check out Vicious for a glimpse of what life in the South Downs cottage might be. And also to other posts mentioning Vicious and Good Omens in the same breath, as well as comparing Sheen and Tennant to Jacobi and McKellen (which I probably reblogged but can't find right now).

Cast of Vicious: Frances de la Tour, Iwan Rheon, Philip Voss, Ian McKellen, Derek Jacobi, Marcia Warren (Wikipedia). (Yes, the upstairs neighbor (Rheon) does go on to play Ramsay Bolton on Game of Thrones. He's a sweetheart in this, though.)

Now, I don't think Crowley and Aziraphale are the same as Freddie and Stuart, by any means. Freddie and Stuart say quite cruel things to each other. The characters become deeper in the second season; it’s a little sweeter than the first. I enjoy the bitterness of the first season too, though. It is funny, and Good Omens fans may enjoy watching it if only to see Derek Jacobi (who plays the Metatron) in a comedy role and a role that's sympathetic, especially if they are not familiar with his large and impressive body of work.

I don't think Aziraphale and Crowley's life in the bookshop as a couple, not just a group of two, or life on the South Downs, would be exactly like this, but there are somehow some similarities that I don't even know how to begin to pinpoint or explicate.

Crowley and Aziraphale’s affection is always so palpable and that’s not always clear with Freddie and Stuart. Crowley and Aziraphale are so loving that, even when they're bickering, it's joyful, even when they're arguing, even when they're coming apart (temporarily) at the seams, their love is undeniable. I don’t even think their breakup was toxic; although they were desperate at that point and hurt each other badly, it wasn't what they wanted. Sometimes it's that way.

And, lest I'm putting you off Vicious here, the Ineffable Husbands are a high bar as love stories go, but you will get to see some love and affection between Freddie and Stuart too, and I'd really love to see these actors work together more. (I am happy with how the show ends up, by the way.)

Toodle-loo! Hope everything is tickety-boo with you.

[cipher-of-the-round-table]

Something something I need to put in a Brother Cadfael reference.

tumblr university is OUT tumblr monastery is IN brother tumblrinus is painstakingly copying out the most interesting prev tags on a manuscript of vergil until the abbot calls him out for not making his proto-gothic script accessible enough and also for his heresies

[quoteoftheweekblog]

…

2/9/24 - SEBASTIAN JUNGER (AND ‘LORD OF THE FLIES’)

'Strangely, the sea doesn't get tedious to look at - wave trains converge and crisscross in patterns that have never happened before and will never happen again. It can take hours to tear one's eyes away.' (Junger, 2010, p.58).

REFERENCE

Junger, S. (2010 [1997] ) 'The perfect storm - a true story of men against the sea'. Amazon.com [E-book]. Available at: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Perfect-Storm-True-Story-Against-ebook/dp/B004APA538 (Accessed 31st August 2024).

*****

…

…

TO MY FRIEND IN MILTON ON SEA FOR THE PHOTO OF THE SEA AT THE END OF HER ROAD

BEFORE LEAVING FOR THE OTHER END OF THE COUNTRY AND HER SCOTTISH VISIT

…

HELMSDALE, north of Inverness, south of Thurso

…

INCLUDING SEAL

…

&

…

Leaving Scrabster en route to Orkney

VIA

…

SCAPA FLOW

&

…

Last one - farming fish on Skye

XXXX

…

*****

CONGRATULATIONS 2024

…

2024 IS THE 70TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE PUBLICATION OF ‘LORD OF THE FLIES’ - WILLIAM GOLDING - 17/9/1954

NEWS REPORT

…

CONGRATULATIONS

*****

FOR BOOK GROUP AUGUST 2024 

20 (90) GLORIOUS YEARS

…

'They sleep, talk, watch T.V., and read; there are high school dropouts who go through half a dozen books on the Grand Banks.' (Junger, 2010, p.57).

LAST MONTH I ALSO READ

…

AUGUST BLUE

ON LOAN FROM OUR READER LEADER

📚📚📚📚📚

LAST MONTH OUR MEMBERS ALSO READ OR ARE STILL READING …

TOP READER (AND SCOTTISH TRAVELLER)

…

THE SLEEPWALKERS

… also reading …

&

…

CADFAEL

… 2 more …

&

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GO SET A WATCHMAM

… sequel to To Kill A Mockingbird, which did not really live up to the hype …

&

…

THE SUSPICIONS OF MR WHICHER

… always has a reminder here for us as the brother who was widely considered to be one of the murderers is buried in our churchyard.

📚📚📚📚📚

OTHER READERS

…

THE DISPOSSESSED

I couldn't get into it.

&

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RESTORATION

It’s bad behaviour turning to worse behaviour and then getting better again.

&

…

CABAL

I always enjoy Michael Dibdin.

MEANWHILE THE OTHER HALF

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THE CONTINENTAL OP

 … short stories but I didn't really enjoy it.

&

…

A DOCTOR IN AFRICA

It was light easy reading despite the subject matter.

📚📚📚📚📚

…

I AM PILGRIM

I WAS THE ONLY PERSON IN THE U3A BOOK GROUP NOT TO LIKE IT.

📚📚📚📚📚

AND OUR READER LEADER

…

THE COUNTRY GIRLS TRILOGY

I’m on the last one but not sure why she was banned by the Catholic Church.

&

…

DEMON COPPERHEAD

THE REASON WHY I’m Still only half way through is because I read a page and then fall asleep.

📚📚📚📚📚

PLUS

WELCOME TO OUR NEW MEMBER

HOORAH

WHO HAS RECENTLY READ

…

THE SALT PATH

📚📚📚📚📚

…

BOOK GROUP

*****

QUOTE OF THE WEEK 2011 - 2024

…

13 EPIC YEARS

*****

FROM THE ARCHIVE

…

26/8/19

*****

[unethicallypleistocene]

so many ones i wanna ask, but i’ll go with: 1, 5, 10 and 29!

Thank you thank you! Excellent choices, my friend!

1. What do you really need right now?

To work on my fic! I’m incredibly susceptible to research rabbit holes to the point where I’ll never get around to actually writing anything. I might end up making it a one-shot just to give myself a buffer before going full plot-planning mode, but I’m already having a ton of fun with it. For reference: I spent two hours yesterday reading Exeter Book and Nowell Codex translations just to find a quote to use as a title. There was a surprising abundance of dick jokes in the limerick bits.

5. Something that makes you ridiculously happy?

I’m still hyperfixating on X-Men, and they have me in a blood choke. Excuse me while I go rotate First Class in my brain microwave for the 100th time.

10. Books on your reading list?

I still haven’t finished the first book in the Cadfael Chronicles, which is insane because I’ve been listening to one of the audio dramas and it’s incredibly fun. The series feels so specifically catered to my interests. I also want to finish God Loves, Man Kills, but I have a big list of X-Men comics I’ve been planning to read to catch up on the 60 years I’ve missed. If anyone has some relatively isolated comic stories they recommend, I’d love to know!

29. A dream you wish to make true?

In the literal sense, Captain Picard interrupted my dream the other night to eloquently insult me, and I wouldn’t mind if he felt the need to do so in the real world as well. In the metaphorical sense- every summer I more keenly feel the need to time travel and experience a pre-industrial landscape and climate. I would really love to go to a beach and have the ocean not feel like bathwater.

[fintan-pyren]

Found the post. Lacking some info, unfortunately. We've also learned:

Keefe is a polyglot, and has an ability that allows him to a) detect and likely trigger people's abilities and b) control people with his voice, which he can't control when he gets overwhelmed or upset. This causes him to run away to the Forbidden Cities.

Sophie and her friends find him because Umber left traces of shadowflux in his heart so the Neverseen could track him. This causes a "ripple" that can be detected by a modified spyball twice a day, at 11am and 11pm.

Stellarlune has a third step that has not occurred yet. This is believed to be connected to Elysian.

Elysian is a person/being, and the name of an island surrounded by rivers, which Gisela is trying to find. They find a map of Elysian in Kenric's cache, which the Black Swan also has a copy of, which they found in an old Neverseen hideout. Kenric found the place by following a string of clues including "whispering rapids" and "butterflies kissed with red".

Gisela believes that the Ancient Council prevented elves from accessing some of the most potent sources of power—Elysian, the Unmapped Stars, ethertine, magsidian, and a secret seventh element. She believes that these power sources can be used to unlock someone's full potential, which is the aim of Stellarlune.

Elysian, the island, contains a type of rock that can be used to harness the power of the seventh element.

This stone seems to be able to function as an explosive device.

The seventh element can be accessed at Elysian when the Unmapped stars align, which is called Nightfall. This is represented by the symbol on the letter that Keefe delivered to Ethan Benedict Wright II.

Elysian can be accessed by starstones. Gisela commissioned a starstone from Cyrah that leads to Elysian, but Cyrah hid it in a hair comb and sold it to Alden and Biana, seemingly wanting specifically for it to end up in the hands of a Vacker.

Elysian is hidden by an illusion created by Vespera. Dropping this illusion reveals the strange rocks. There is a second illusion that can be revealed by burning noxflares with colored flames in a specific order, including a blue flame extracted from the strange rocks (which is what Fintan seems to be referring to when he burns the noxflares and repeats "something's missing"). This reveals curved walls made of stained glass panels surrounding Elysian.

Elysian, the person, has the power to shut down other people's abilities.

They suspect that Cadfael is planning to overthrow King Dimitar, but also speculate about the possibility that he's searching for Elysian, as he mentions a river. Ro leaves early in Stellarlune to hunt down Cadfael, and is not heard from for the remainder of the book.

A summary of what we know about Stellarlune:

It's the treatment Gisela used to give Keefe his ability

She started the project involving Stellarlune before she joined the Neverseen

It uses the elements to bring out someone's full potential

Before conceiving Keefe, Gisela and Cassius drank what is believed to be quintessence from the five unmapped stars.

There are also two bottles of shadowflux involved, but it's unknown whether they've drunk these already

Gisela places Keefe on a throne of magsidian (stone made from shadowflux) with a crown of ethertine (stone made from quintessence), which she has Tam and Glimmer dissolve with bolts of light and shadowflux

This causes the stone to melt into sludge and coat Keefe, exposing him to large amounts of shadows and light and causing him to manifest his new ability

The ability that this gave Keefe is the foundation of Gisela's entire plan

We do not know what this plan is yet

Kenric was investigating Stellarlune sometime before Sophie was discovered

The memory in Oralie's cache reveals that Kenric had Oralie ask Fintan what he knew about Stellarlune, but Fintan didn't know anything about it.

Stellarlune is connected to something called Elysian.

We don't know what Elysian is, but we know that Kenric felt a lot of fear about it

It's been suggested that Vespera and Gethen may have intentionally tried to sabotage this plan and let Gisela be captured

[dinrelsanddragons]

Fiadh Bhelthir

“Well, if you’d rather believe we’re all going to die here, be my guest, but I’m putting my faith in my cousin.” – Fiadh Bhelthir

General information

Name: Fiadh Almas Bhelthir

Birthdate: July 28

Present age: 13 years

Birthplace: Hyrule Castle

Present residence: Hyrule Castle

Occupation: Child

Sexuality: Bisexual, Biromantic.

Appearance:

Body type: Ectomorph (Built for stamina, does not acquire fat or muscle easily)

Height: 5'4

Weight: 121 lbs

Skin color: Dark tan

Eye color: Dark brown

Hair color: Red

Clothes: See reference art.

Reference art (Redirects to main blog.)

Possessions and equipment:

Gerudo Scimitar

Personal History (Age of Calamity):

Daughter to Alexander Dinrel and Shula Jawzahr. She’s a fierce and stalwart personality, and she aims to become a knight of Hyrule like her father despite being a Gerudo. Her father would really rather she didn’t fight, though– but it is her choice.

Personality:

Loyal, defends her loved ones

Determined, tends to get her way

Talents/Traits:

Papa’s girl

Notes:

Mother is determined by Alexander’s ships.

Family:

Father– Alexander Bhelthir

Mother– Shula Jawzahr

Cousin– Fennec Blackscale

Cousin– Felicity Blackscale

Cousin– Cadfael Blackscale

Cousin– Catriona Blackscale

[stupidsexyfandom]

Sed Libera Nos A Malo

@helsa-summer-event

Rated T // Drama, Medieval AU

Brother Hans finds something suspicious about the abbey’s newest novice. 

Written for Prompt #6 of Helsa Summer: Letting off steam.

They were in the midst of the coldest winter anyone could remember. There were whispers in the village that this was Queen Elsa’s doing. Perhaps, angry at being driven from her home, she had laid a curse on the land. This speculation was frowned upon inside the abbey. There they condemned talk of magic as heresy. If there was anything unnatural about this winter, they said, it was a sign from God. A sign of what, they did not say.

Hans did not hold these murmurings in high regard. Magic was the stuff of myths and fairy stories, and he very much doubted that one girl held the power to plunge the country into a deep freeze. At this point, he doubted whether Queen Elsa was even still alive. He knew her parents had been slaughtered early in this conflict when his father, King Harald of the Southern Isles, had decided that Arendelle rightfully belonged to him. She had been hastily crowned, but she and her sister had disappeared soon afterward. Her supporters claimed the queen and princess had fled to Corona to gather an army, but Hans was not so sure. The Southern Isles’ attempted invasion was not popular among the Arendellian nobles, and he suspected their cause needed a figurehead.

He held the Church’s explanation in equally low esteem, despite being destined to take holy orders himself. The Church had thrown their weight behind King Harald’s claim to the throne, likely persuaded by the Southern Isles’ ample coffers. If this frigid weather were a sign of anything (although he was sure it was not), it might be God indicating that they had backed the wrong side.

But Hans had not come to the abbey because he felt called to God. His father had followed the cardinal rule of succession: an heir for the crown and a spare for the priesthood. But then there had been another spare and then another. Soon, the king had thirteen sons, each competing for wealth and influence. Several had climbed their way through the Church’s ranks, and several others had been promised lands throughout the Southern Isles and Arendelle. Hans was the last, and it was decided that he was not worthy of becoming a bishop or cardinal, or even a priest. He was relegated to being a simple monk.

Not even a full monk, at that, he thought with only a tinge of bitterness. He was still only a novice, and he thought it would be a long time before he took his final vows. For now, he was at the bottom of the pecking order, just as he had been at home. At least his position assisting the herbalist gave him a measure of freedom not accorded to the other novices. The work was varied and stimulating, and his superior, though a keen man, was not as strict as some of the other brothers. This left Hans able to move around the abbey with some degree of autonomy.

He knew the true reason his father had sent him to a monastery in Arendelle, aside from wanting to be rid of him. The king’s forces were moving through the country, laying siege to any towns which would not submit. But opposition was fierce, and the people had fought back with tooth and nail at every opportunity. The Southern Isles’ progress had been slower than King Harald would like to admit. Hans was not considered good enough for a place at court, but he could certainly feed the king information from behind enemy lines. He had not yet been called upon, but he knew the day would come. He did not relish the prospect. After all, what loyalty did he owe his father?

So he toiled away behind the monastery walls day after day. After so much time, he had become used to the routine of prayer and solitude. It was almost enough to make him a believer. Although it was not the life he would have chosen, he had accepted the path that was his to walk. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he would someday reach the rank of prior, or even abbot.

This morning was colder than most. Hans stood in the abbey stable, breaking the ice so the horses could have fresh water. He had always had a way with horses, and he was lucky that his tasks allowed him to work with them. Some of the other novices were being loudly berated in the courtyard. Not only had they spoken out of turn, but they had been gossiping about the Snow Queen, as she was called in the village. Hans was grateful to be hidden inside a stall. He was certain their odious superior would have found a way to include him in the punishment, despite his innocence in the matter. The loathing he harbored for that man was deeply un-Christian.

His musings on whether murder was really a sin if the victim was extremely annoying were interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats. The novices and their lecturer scattered as Hans peered into the courtyard. Two horses burst into the courtyard, a black stallion of nearly eighteen hands, and a smaller gray that looked to have Arabian blood. A man dismounted from the first and a smaller figure, either a youth or a woman, from the second. The prior came out to meet them. He did not look happy to see them, but then again, he always looked like that. Hans could not hear what they were saying. When he heard footsteps approaching the stable, he hastened to look busy. But only the prior appeared.

“Brother Hans, are you in there?” Hans stepped out of the stall. The prior beckoned, and Hans followed him out into the courtyard. He was eager to get a closer look at such fine animals, even if it meant stepping out into the cold. The man had already started toward the abbey doors, but the other rider stood holding the horses. Ah, so it was a youth.

“Elias, this is Brother Hans,” said the prior, “He is one of your fellow novices.” Hans nodded in acknowledgement, appraising his new brother. Elias was extremely slight, with fair hair and round blue eyes. His face had not yet lost any of the softness of childhood. He seemed on edge despite the safety of the abbey. There was something off about him that Hans could not place.

“Brother Hans, take these horses to the stable and see that they are fed and watered. Boy, come with me.”

“Right away, Brother Prior,” said Hans, taking the reins. His attention immediately shifted to his new task. The horses must be tired and in need of hay. He could tell that they must have galloped a great distance from the way the steam rose from their sweaty flanks. That was it! As he walked toward the stables, he exhaled softly to test his theory. Steam rose from his lips into the chilly air.

He turned back to look at the abbey doors where the prior, Elias, and the other man were preparing to enter. Sure enough, the man and the prior both breathed out condensation when they spoke. But the air in front of Elias was perfectly clear. His lips emitted no such steam.

-

Over the next several weeks, Hans began to forget his strange realization. Elias seemed to integrate into monastic life easily. There still seemed something odd about him, but spending so much time together had made his quirks part of the status quo. He was quiet and easily startled, but he was also a hard worker who never caused trouble. He did nothing else to call attention to himself.

Hans had been seeing a lot of him because he was also assigned to work under the monastery’s herbalist. The unusually cold winter had brought with it famine and disease. The infirmary was full to capacity, creating more work than two people could handle. They were grateful for the extra set of hands. Brother Elias applied himself to the work with zeal. He seemed to have a particular talent for soothing fevered patients. Hans began to think himself silly for having any doubts about his fellow novice.

But a chance incident brought all his doubts, and many new ones, roaring back with a vengeance. The herbalist was away for several days tending to a patient far from the abbey. Hans and Brother Elias were managing well enough to distribute balms and poultices to their regular patients. Although they lacked expertise, they were both quick studies and worked well together.

Hans had been working in the infirmary when he had realized they were running low on a few supplies. He decided to walk down to the herbalist’s shed to replenish them. He opened the door without knocking, assuming nobody to be inside. Then came the sound of shattering glass. Looking inside, he saw Brother Elias kneeling on the floor, attempting to pick up shards of a vial. In his characteristic jumpiness, he had smashed the bottle in his hand when the door had opened unexpectedly. The mess was awful, but Hans was more concerned about the blood streaming from his palm.

“Leave it,” he said, picking his way across the floor to avoid the broken glass, “Let me have a look at that hand.” Brother Elias ignored the directive, continuing his vain efforts to clear up the mess.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. I can take care of it myself.” But Hans could see that the cut ran deep. He knew a wound like that could cause serious trouble if left unattended. Men had survived worse, but they had also died from much less.

“Not with one hand you can’t. It’s too deep.”

“Really, I’m fine.” Hans carefully crouched down. He could not understand why Brother Elias was so intent on refusing his help. But as he watched, he could see the boy was growing frustrated. Finally, he presented his hand for Hans to examine.

Hans gave no outward sign that anything was amiss when he took Brother Elias’s hand. He cleaned and treated the wound with as much care and attention as he would give any patient. But in the back of his mind, he felt something was very wrong. Brother Elias’s flesh was completely frozen. This went beyond the feeling of someone who had been out in the elements for hours. This was the chill of death.

That night at Compline, Hans prayed. This should not have been unusual, for all the monks spent several hours a day in prayer. But this night was unique for Hans in that he meant it. He knew not what he had stumbled upon, but he had to hope God would protect and guide him through it. In stories, demons were always red hot like the fire and brimstone whence they came. But what if that was wrong? What if, in order to withstand the licking flames of hellfire, demons were cold as ice?

Hans thought of reporting what he had seen, but the idea was unappealing. In truth, he found the monk who oversaw the novices so obnoxious that he would rather risk his immortal soul than talk to him unnecessarily. He wished desperately that his mentor were there. He knew the herbalist would have known what to do. But he was away from the abbey and would be for several days yet. Hans did not know if this would keep until then.

He could barely focus on his work in the infirmary the next day. His mind raced with thoughts of angels and demons, each twisting into the other until he could no longer tell them apart. He paid only the slightest attention when a fevered patient was brought in. There had been many cases like his in this hellish winter, and Hans set about mixing the preparation the herbalist had found was most effective. Brother Elias sat at the side of the fevered man, soothing him through his delirium.

As he watched, Brother Elias put one hand on the ill man’s forehead and the other at his neck. His fevered thrashing stilled, and he seemed almost at peace. Hans thought back to holding that hand in his own, cold and corpse-like and covered in blood. How unnatural the cold had felt then. But here, it had been a tool of salvation, bringing down the man’s body temperature. Would a demon use its unholy power to save lives? He very much doubted it. He found he could no longer stomach the idea of giving Brother Elias up to the authorities. Perhaps he would continue on as normal until the herbalist returned. He knew the older man would come up with a plan as kind as it was wise.

It turned out there was no need to wait for his mentor’s return. All would be revealed well before then.

Hans and Brother Elias were spending the night working in the shed, distilling herbs over a flame that must burn for countless hours. Exempt from Matins for the night because of their work, they had decided to sleep in shifts. Hans was surprised by how easy it was to go on working together as if nothing had happened. He had volunteered to take the first watch, tending to the fire while Brother Elias slept on the straw palette.

At first, all was well. Brother Elias retired, and Hans sat staring idly into the flames. Eventually he had trouble keeping his eyes open, slipping into a stupor. He only became alert when he felt something cold touch his face. Then for a moment he thought he must be dreaming. Snow seemed to be falling inside the herbalist’s shed.  He turned to see Brother Elias thrashing in his sleep, caught in the throes of some nightmare. Hans attempted to awaken him, but the dream’s grip was too powerful.

In his sleep he began to call, “Anna! Anna! No! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” in that clear, youthful voice. Hans wondered who Anna was. Brother Elias seemed too young to have such passion for a lover. In any case, the pain in his voice seemed to point to a more tragic tale. Hans had little time for contemplation, for the snow began to fall thicker and faster. An icy wind threatened to extinguish the flame necessary for their task.

“My fault! It’s all my fault! No! Please!” At his wit’s end, Hans reached out and shook Brother Elias violently. His eyes snapped open and frost crawled up his arms, coating his habit and Hans’ alike. Hans broke away, staring at the frozen fabric in terror. The first thought through his mind was ‘begone accursed demon’, followed by several swears. But he mastered himself quickly. He had already established that Brother Elias could not be a demon, so what else was left?

“You… wield power over ice and snow?” Brother Elias stared at him like a cornered animal, round blue eyes wide with terror.

Finally, he murmured, “I was born like this.”

“Born like this?” said Hans slowly, “I can think of only one other said to have been born with this power.” He could feel his mind turning like the machinery of a mill wheel. To his surprise, Brother Elias barked a laugh.

“You know one of my secrets. You may as well know all. Soon it will not matter. I was once Queen Elsa of Arendelle.” From the hood of her habit, she revealed a que of fair hair. Hans gaped in shock. It seemed at once so unlikely and so obvious. Looking at her face, he could see now the femininity that he had mistaken for youth. He was so entranced that he nearly missed her next sentence.

“I know your secret as well, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. My advisors told me Harald’s men would be everywhere. I knew what to look for.”

“That title is no longer mine,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry, “I renounced it when I came to the abbey.”

“Ah. It is a shame, then, that I shall still have to kill you for it.” She produced a dagger from under her habit and advanced toward him. Although she had him in her power, he could see fear in her eyes.

“Wait!” he cried, “I have no intention of revealing your secret!” She stopped short, although her dagger was still raised.

“Oh? Why should I believe you?”

“I knew something was wrong from the very first day you came here, but still I said nothing.”

“How did you know?”

“Your breath was cold. No steam in the winter air.” She considered him for a moment. Then she lowered her dagger. Hans thought he glimpsed relief in her eyes.

“I must go tonight. I had hoped to lay low until the spring, but this place is no longer safe for me. It is a shame that I could not send word ahead of time, but it cannot be helped now.” She turned as if to walk out the door at that moment.

“Wait!” he said again, “What’s changed? I will not breath a word of your secret, and nobody else knows. Please, at least wait until the herbalist returns. He is a good and wise man, and I know he will advise you rightly.” He knew she saw the sense in his words. Silently, she sat down on the palette. Together they stared into the fire. Hans had a feeling neither of them would sleep tonight.

-

For the next few days, things returned to almost normal. The harsh cold showed no signs of abating as they continued their work in the infirmary. Elsa was as kind and patient as she had been when she was Brother Elias, calming their patients with her cooling touch. Hans continued to mix herbs as his mentor had taught him. In a way, they were more in sync in their work than they had ever been. Perhaps their newfound understanding had allowed them to communicate better.

Has would be lying if he said the tenor of their interactions had not changed slightly. How could he go on as he had, knowing that his companion was not a scrawny youth but a beautiful woman? He found himself thinking things that would make his confessor’s hair curl. Maybe I was wrong, he thought wryly, and she really is a demon sent to tempt me, specifically?

But he had other reasons for avoiding the confessional, not least of which was his dislike for the novices’ confessor. He could not risk anyone learning their secret, especially a busybody such as him. And he could not bring himself to lie before God. If he were to be struck down and be sent to Hell for dying without absolution, so be it. It would be worth it to protect her.

Their newfound peace was to be short-lived. Hans was at the riverbank fetching water when he spied a familiar horse. He would know that bay anywhere, and he knew its rider could not be far away. Before he could turn around, he felt a blade at his throat.

“Hello, dear brother,” came a voice.

“Sweyn.” His oldest brother and his father’s favorite. The King would send him on any business he could not attend to himself.

“Now, now, what kind of a greeting is that for your future king?” He removed the blade and spun Hans around to face him.

“What do you want?” he ground out, “I take it this is not a social call.”

“Good guess, little brother. Father’s troops are three days march from here. He’s heard rumors that the Snow Queen is in these parts. He wants to know if they are true.”

“How should I know? I’m cooped up in that monastery all the time. I haven’t seen a woman for weeks. And even if I had seen her, why should I help Father? He’s the one who sent me to this place to rot.” Sweyn smiled a toothy grin.

“Because if you don’t, I will kill you and dump your body through that hole in the ice. And if you do, Father will carve out some of Arendelle just for you. I’m sure we can find some land for little Hans.” The offer was tempting. All his life, he had dreamed of being somebody important, of having something that was just his. If he had lands of his own, he could realize that dream. But as he considered, he realized he could not trust anything Sweyn said. This was the man who had once claimed to see a comet and then tried to push him out of a third-floor window. Hans had been lucky to be able seize a shutter to prevent the fall. He hoped a similar lifeline would come to him now.

“I cannot help you. Like I said, I haven’t seen a woman in weeks.” If there was one thing Hans knew, it was how to lie.

“Surely you must have heard some talk?”

“Gossip is strictly forbidden for monks. We are punished harshly for breaking silence. I know nothing.”

“Some spy you turned out to be. Even here you cannot escape your penchant for failure.” Hans did not let the words rile him.

“If you want my opinion, the queen and the princess are both dead and have been for a long time.” His brother snorted.

“Wrong as usual. I know for a fact that the princess is in Corona. She waits there for her sister as she raises an army. That is why we must strike fast.” Hans was surprised his brother would admit to feeling any pressure from the princess of Arendelle.

“See, you know more than I do.” Sweyn was suspicious by nature, but Hans could tell that he believed him.

“It is a pity you speak the truth, brother. I would have so loved to leave your body under the ice. Perhaps I still shall. But no, father will want an inside man when he lays siege to the city. Such a pity, but there will always be another opportunity.” It spoke to their relationship that these death threats neither shocked nor upset Hans. He knew his brother would not hesitate to make good on them, but he also knew his father would never allow Sweyn off the leash like that. Not while he was still alive, at least.

“Goodbye, Sweyn.” And like that, his brother had vanished, melting back into the barren forest.

-

He met Elsa in the stables, where he was certain they would not be overheard.

“My father’s troops are only a few days march away from here. We must flee tonight.”

“We are not going to do anything. I will leave on my own.” Hans could not believe his ears.

“Are you insane? It’s much too dangerous for you to travel alone. The roads are a lawless place, and anything could happen.”

“You forget, Brother Hans, that I have a unique weapon in my arsenal. Any who tried to cross me would find himself much the worse for it. No, I will not let you leave behind your vows for my sake.”

“Forget my vows!” said Hans, wishing he could use stronger language, “I did not choose this life of my own free will. I would gladly abandon it to travel with you to Corona.” He would gladly travel with her for as long as she would let him. Elsa was silent for a long moment.

“Very well. It seems you have made up your mind already. I will send word ahead to ready a ship for us.”

“How?” As far as Hans knew, Elsa had no contact with anyone outside the abbey.

“I have my ways. You must only concern yourself with readying the horses.”

-

They sneaked out directly after Compline. With any luck, they would not be missed until Matins, and a search party would not be sent until the next morning. Hans led them to an abandoned barn near a field where they used to gather herbs. They could wait there until true nightfall when they could travel on the roads more covertly.

In the gathering darkness, he asked the question that had been on his mind for the last week: “Were you dreaming about your sister?”

“Hm?”

“That night in the herb shed. You called out for Anna. It must have been a pretty unpleasant dream.” He could hear her shifting her weight uncomfortably, and he thought maybe he shouldn’t have asked.

At last, she said, “I was dreaming about the night our parents died. The two of us managed to escape from the castle together, but we were separated in the commotion. We were being attacked from all sides. I tried to use my ice to protect us, but I’ve never had very good control over it. It was all I could do to hold them off while Anna fled. I don’t know what happened to her after that. If I could have just made a stable barrier, we could have fled together. I could have continued to protect her. As it stands, she’s probably dead because of me.” He could hear that she was trying not to cry and probably failing. He reached out to wrap an arm around her, surprised when she did not pull away.

“The princess is not dead. According to my brother, she’s waiting for you in Corona with an army.”

“What?” Elsa sniffed, “Do you believe him?”

“Not as a rule, no. But he would have no reason to lie about that particular fact, especially because it makes my father look bad.”

“That’s… wonderful!” said Elsa, still sounding slightly shocked, “I can’t believe—” But her elation was cut short when they heard the snap of a branch outside. Hans was immediately on his guard. He hoped it was not someone from the abbey, or worse, the sheriff. Would he be able to kill if that were what it came down to? Yes, he decided, he would. He hoped his swordsmanship had not suffered too much from lack of practice in the abbey.

“Brother Hans?” called a voice, and Hans immediately relaxed.

“Brother!” he shouted, “In here!” A silhouette appeared in the doorway and he felt Elsa tense next to him. But the light of the lantern he carried soon identified him as the herbalist.

“Is the queen with you?”

“How did he know?” hissed Elsa in his ear. Hans wanted to reply that he somehow knew everything, but the older man beat him to it.

“I knew from the first that you were not a young man. No one but a monk who had spent his whole life cloistered away from women would ever believe your disguise. As for the other, did you think I would not notice the way the oil bottles froze when you touched them? God has given you a rare gift, your Majesty. I hope you will someday grow to love it.”

“Thank you,” Elsa spluttered. The herbalist turned to Hans.

“And you will be her steward on the journey to Corona? I trust you will not take advantage of your role.”

“Of course not. But her Majesty has little need for a steward. She has power enough to foil any who might wish to harm her.”

“Very good, very good.”

“You’re not going to turn us in?” asked Elsa, sounding slightly incredulous.

“The Church may have chosen to support King Harald, but I myself prefer to remain neutral. They have not missed you yet at the abbey. In the morning, the sheriff may receive information that you are making a break for the North Sea. The road to the southern ports should be clear at least until then.”

“How can we ever thank you?” said Elsa. The monk smiled.

“The best thanks you can give me is to live safely and well.”

Night had truly fallen. They led the horses out of the barn and mounted near the fence. Hans relished the feeling of riding again. He had missed it after all this time. The herbalist turned to say goodbye. Suddenly Hans felt a wave of sorrow wash over him, for the loss of the abbey and his vows and all the other things he had thought he never cared about before.

“Brother,” he called, “I’m sorry to be leaving you. I know the oath is supposed to be for life.”

“The purpose of the novitiate period is to determine one’s suitability for monastic life. Clearly you are destined for other things. Go in peace, my children.”

They waved goodbye to the herbalist and set off on the southbound road. As they road through the wood, Hans felt freer than he ever had in his life. Within a day, they would be at the sea. After that, he knew not what lay in store.

When they reached a crossroad, Elsa called to him, “Which way, Brother Hans?”

Indicating the path, he said, “I don’t think you have to call me ‘Brother Hans’ anymore.”

“Oh, what should I call you, then? Have you decided to go back to your old title?”

“No, just ‘Hans.’ ‘Hans’ is fine.”

“All right then, Hans.” He felt a little thrill at the way she said it.

As they rode through the night, Hans found himself imagining his future. He could see Elsa once again on the throne of Arendelle, himself a fixture at her side. Maybe someday, she could even grow to love him. Or perhaps that was just a fantasy. But whatever the future held, he knew his father would rue the day he had sent his youngest son to an abbey in Arendelle. Hans, on the other hand, had never been more grateful for anything in his life.

***

Author’s Note: I heard the Helsa fandom has a thing about priests, so I... wrote something totally unsexy about monks instead? Truly the fanfiction equivalent of when you order a Coke and the waitress asks, “Is Pepsi okay?”

Any fans of Brother Cadfael will notice quite a few Easter eggs sprinkled throughout. (And by Easter eggs I mean blatant plagiarism.) I considered cutting out some of the world-building of how Frozen maps onto The Anarchy, but I left it in because I liked it. It’s my sleepover, and I get to choose the movie! And hey, it worked for Victor Hugo. 

I can’t express how much I appreciate my readers and the response you’ve given me! Enjoy! <3

[sightless-raiton]

@queersplendent

[flagellant]

honestly as a chronic pain person who's insurance basically decided to stop covering anything but 10 ibuprofen every 30 days, every so often I remember that hemlock was used as a painkiller and has anti-inflammatory action... and then I remember the words of Brother Cadfael and don't do it this time. (though honestly? I don't know how much longer I'm gonna be able to hold out.)

Honestly while I appreciate the pain and mistreatment you are going through as unfair and difficult, I ask you to please understand how incredibly fucked up it is for you to send me this and why I am deeply fucking upset and angry.

I'm a fucking tumblr wizard that does not know you. Don't fucking send me suicide notes. I want you to know that when I say "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I'm not referring to a very human desire to not be in pain, I am referring to the fact that you as a stranger are sending me, a stranger, expressions of wishing for your own death completely out of nowhere. Fuck you, man.

[taliesinlestrange]

                       summary :      a  collection  of  the  cultural  influences  on  the  character  of  taliesin  lestrange,  including  a  look  at  the  three  lestrange  bloodlines,  welsh  language,  food,  holidays,  and  and  legends        tagging :        @burialnetwork​   (  task 003  )

                     bloodlines.           there  are  three  primary  bloodlines  of  the  lestrange  family.  the  family  is  originally  from  the  burgundy  region  of  france,  with  the  cyrille  and  corvus  bloodlines  still  calling  the  country  home.  however,  at  some  point  a  portion  of  the  family  migrated  to  wales.  this  line  was  previously  referred  to  simply  as  the  welsh  line,  but  after  taliesin’s  great  grandfather’s  time  as  minister  of  magic  became  known  as  the  radolphus  bloodline.  the  radolphus  bloodline  is,  despite  the  amount  of  time  they  have  been  located  in  wales,  still  close  with  their  french  cousins,  although  culturally  they  are  far  more  welsh  than  french,  as  can  be  seen  in  how  they  pick  their  names.  radolphus  lestrange  children are  often  gifted  traditional  welsh  names.  taliesin’s  own  name  is  a  reflection  of  this  practice,  named  after  a  legendary  wizard  from  wales,  and  his  middle  name,  cadfael,  being  both  the  name  of  his  uncle  and  meaning   battle  prince   in  welsh.

                     language.           taliesin  grew  up  speaking  both  english  and  welsh,  which  his  father  taught  him.  in  the  lestrange  household,  english  was  the  casual  and  common  language,  partially  due  to  the  fact  that  dorthea  was  not  fluent,  though  she  had  picked  up  aspects  of  it  over  the  years.  welsh  was  often  reserved  for  serious  and  likely  tense  exchanges  between  aneurin  and  taliesin.  in  fact,  it  was  in  welsh  that  taliesin  was  reprimanded  for  the  use  of  the  s-word.  for  this  reason,  welsh  is  a  much  more  emotionally  charged  language  for  him,  and  is  often  what  he’ll  turn  to  to  express  anger  or  frustration.  for  example,  an  exclamation  of  pain  is  more  likely  to  be   cachi   than  fuck.  likewise,  if  he  is  with  someone  who  also  speaks  welsh,  he  will  instinctively  switch  to  welsh  if  the  conversation  grows  tense.

                     food.          when  taliesin  taught  himself  to  cook,  he  often  turned  to  traditional  recipes.  part  of  this  was  due  to  the  number  of  dishes  he  could  think  of  that  did  not  require  the  delicate  touch  of  steady  hands,  but  also  because  it  provided  a  comfort,  a  piece  of  home  he  could  make  himself  while  he  was  at  the  clinic.  cawl  and  rarebit  are  two  of  his  favorites,  especially  in  the  winter.  he’s  tried  his  hand  at  making  bara  brith  but  has  learned  that  baking  does  require  more  exact  measurements,  though  pice  ar  y  maen  is  something  he  can  manage  if  he  is  careful.

                    holidays.          instead  of  halloween  or  samhain,  taliesin  grew  up  celebrating  nos  calan  gaeaf  and  calan  gaef  on  october  31st  and  november  1st  respectively.  within  the  lestrange  household,  officially,  it  was  little  more  than  a  time  for  family  to  gather  together  for  a  meal,  with  treats  for  the  children  and  some  caution  extended  due  to  the  fact  that  the  distance  between  life  and  death  was  slimmer.  both  dorthea  and  aneurin  had  little  time  for  what  they  saw  as  the  more  lowbrow  traditions  the  surrounded  the  holiday,  however  that did  not  mean  that  taliesin  never  experienced  them.  a  practice  of  having  a  bonfire  on  nos  calan  gaeaf  is  common  and  is  often  accompanied  with  a  divination  practice  in  which  participants  write  their  name  on  a  stone  and  leave  it  in  the  fire.  if  your  stone  was  not  found  the  next  day,  it  meant  you  would  die  within  the  year.  older  cousins  of  taliesin,  morys,  rhydian,  and  aerona,   saw  this  as  a  perfect  opportunity  to  mess  with  the  younger  boy.  they  snuck  off  to  have  their  own  bonfire  several  years,  over  which  they  would  frighten  him  with  stories  of  yr  hwch  ddu  gwta,  reminding  him  that  they  had  to  get  home  before  the  fire  burned  out  or  the  spirit  would  eat  their  souls.  the  practice  continued  in  secret  among  the  cousins  for  several  years,  until  taliesin  was  nine  and  morys  thought  it  would  be  funny  to  remove  taliesin’s  rock  before  he  was  able  to  check  for  it  the  next  day.  taliesin,  convinced  of  his  own  imminent  death,  spilled  the  secret  of  the  yearly  bonfire  to  his  mother.

                    legends.           as  a  curious  and  adventurous  child,  it  makes  sense  that  taliesin  grew  up  enjoying  stories  of  the  fantastic.  one  such  story  was  of  the  merlin,  morgan  le  fay,  and  their  involvement  in  the  court  of  king  arthur.  knights  being  aided  by  magic  was  perfect  to  capture  the  young  boy’s  attention.  however,  due  to  growing  up  in  wales,  additional  characters  appeared  in  the  versions  taliesin  was  told  or  read.  besides  that,  tales  of  specifically  welsh  magical  exploits  were  also  his  to  enjoy.  giants  like  ysbaddaden,  the  wizards  gwydion  and  math,  and  others,  all  captured  taliesin’s  imagination.  his  own  namesake  even  appeared  a  few  times.  he  enjoyed  them  to  the  point  of  naming  his  pet,  an  eagle-owl  gifted  to  him  on  his  eleventh  birthday   (   with  the  assumption  that  it  would  help  him  keep  in  touch  from  hogwarts,  but  ended  up  serving  the  same  purpose  from  a  different  location   ),    eliwlod,    after  the  nephew  of  king  arthur  who  was  likely  an  animagus,  as  he  was  known  to  have  the  ability  to  turn  into  a  raptor. 

[positivelyominous]

New Years Resolutions

Azruba’al

1. Continue to work wickedness, wantonness, and widespread wrongdoing world-wide. 2. Really, genuinely try to control your urge to sympathize with retail and service workers. It is very undemonic. 3. Put some effort into learning how to forge and or doctor screen captures. -Sub resolution a; learn how to procure screen captures. -Sub resolution b; acquire better computational literacy in general. 4. Get back into the nightlife. 5. Increase day to day usage of fuck, shit, twat, bastard, bellend, et al. 6. Find definitive fucking proof for Dagon that the American School System is an actual form of torture. 7. On orders from Downstairs, increase the usage of the phrase “Hate the sin, love the sinner” a shittonne. 8. Come to terms with the fact that you inspired small pockets in women’s trousers and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s all for the worse, after all. Twat.

Cadfael

1. Redouble efforts to spread peace on earth and good will towards all in the most efficient and hands-off manner possible. 2. Quit drinking* 3. Dream up a suitably angelic way to discipline customers who sick up all over your cars. Turning the other cheek is causing ulcers. 4. Stop reading lists like “Top 10 Entitled Bastard Stories” on social media. Remember Kondo-sensei’s advice. 5. Research musicals you do not like and send them Upstairs. Cons: you’ll have to hear the references for eternity. Pros: might be able to watch Julie Andrews in anything again without going spare. 6. See how many plants you can bonsai-ify. 7. On orders from Upstairs, keep ‘Hate the sin, love the sinner’ going in the universal lexicon. 8. Get ‘virtue signalling’ to be as effective at actually helping people as guilt is. Note- Might need to up my hashtag game. 9. Update the Bentley’s playlist with remasters. She’ll like that.

*excessively

[needsmoreresearch]

i just saw a post referring to derek jacobi in the past tense and like, no, dude’s still around, he’s been the same age for the last 80 years, he was brother cadfael 20 years ago and he’s the bishop of digne now and 20 years from now he’ll still be puttering around in a cassock in a garden

[ofmodernmyths]

10 & 11 please - I'm always looking for book recs! <3

10. Favorite historical novel

Funnily enough, I’m not too big on historical novels... When I was a kid, I really enjoyed Christian Jacq’s 5 tomes series on Ramses II (The Son of Light, The Temple of a Million Years, The Battle of Kadesh, The Lady of Abu Simbel & Under the Western Acacia) but apparently they’re not the most accurate ever lol. Still made for a very pleasant reading though. 

Also all the historical murder mysteries starring Brother Cadfael and written by Ellis Peters! It’s set in medieval England during the civil war between King Stephen and Empress Maud (12th century).

Also, I’m not one to read a lot of romance overall, but I really enjoyed Mary, Queen of France by Jean Plaidy, which is about the love story between Mary Tudor (sister of Henry VIII) and Charles Brandon. Really sweet <3

11. Favorite nonfiction history book

I can’t pick just one lol. I’ll try to do one per historical era (according to my tagging system anyway):

Alexander of Macedon by Peter Green, the ultimate Alexander the Great biography (and yeah okay, not Hephaestion-friendly, but I have another book for that)

Pourquoi Byzance? by Michel Kaplan (the specialist of Byzance history in France), an introduction to Byzance history that’s really interesting, although a bit dry. For references in English, I would suggest asking @mmedemaintenon who knows the topic a lot better than I do <3

La seconde gloire de Rome by Jean Delumeau which about the second “golden” age of Rome between 1450 and 1660. A fascinating read for sure (but once again, I would suggest asking @mmedemaintenon for recs in English... also @janiedean might have some references on the topic too)

Le divan d’Istanbul by Alessandro Barbero, an introduction to the history of the Ottoman empire (original written in Italian and translated in French). Very interesting. If you want English recs, @sansaregina would be a good pick...

Isabella of Castile by Giles Tremlett but I’ve been told it has some inaccuracies in it so... (his biography of Katherine of Aragon is fire though, and I hope he’ll write one of Mary I)

For books recs about the Tudors, if you’re interested, I’ll do a specific rec post because this is getting too long already lol

Simone Bertière’s series on the Queens of France since the Renaissance up to the French Revolution, it’s fire, period. 

Le chagrin et le venin by Pierre Laborie, a look at the memory of WWII in France. Intense. 

That’s without counting the fact that I currently have 12 books on my to-read list, so... yeah lol. For recs about a more specific period/historical figure, ask away!