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stormobsessed · 4 years

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Avatar: The Last Bondsmith

So, I had made THIS POST about a Zuko Windrunner and his Spren Iroh, and there were a lot of comments about other radiant orders for the other characters, and a strong argument for Zuko not actually being a windrunner because his arc was less about protecting people and more about facing hard truths. That may be Lightweaver, but Lightweaver is personal truths, and Zuko doesn’t have a lot of personal lies, but is entrenched in the lies of his nation. I feel like fixing that is very Truthwatcher.

Then… this happened, I hope you enjoy.

The Fire Nation was full of Lightweavers. It was a court of secrets, of hidden faces, of lies. Men and women and children claimed loyalty when they felt fear, claimed morality as they killed innocent, stayed silent when they wanted to speak, and were practiced at confessing to only their spen rather than risking the words aloud. As time wore and generations changed, it came to pass that nearly every radiant in the Nation was accompanied by a cryptid, one corrupted Sja-anat and blessed by Odium to accept voidlight. The Fire Lord claimed that was good, for the Lightweavers were clearly the strongest order of radiants, with powers and abilities that overshadowed all others. He proclaimed across their country that it was this that showed that they alone deserved to rule.

The Cryptids loved this lie.

Was it a lie though? After all, they killed Honor and every one of his windrunners when Odium sent a comet leaking voidlight through the sky.

Odium loved the passion and anger of the Fire nation as they utilized it and stormlight to begin razing the rest of the world to the ground, the cryptids cared not for honorable or right, only true. Sometimes the truth was cruel and ugly.

Firelord Ozai was not shamed by truths other men dared not speak. He fully confessed to himself that he was cruel, a monster, that his campaign was about personal growth rather than the love of his nation. He held those truths so clearly, that his power was great. Great enough that when he touched his son’s face in a duel and felt dry, flaking skin, he said ‘you are fire’ and it did not disobey.

Not even when the child screamed.

The son was failing, only sworn to the first ideal, if any. Ozai had never seen his son’s spren, in fact if any had it would have been his traitorous, Stoneward mother with her weak oaths of being there for others. She’d broken her oaths though. She was not here for her children. In assassinating Azulon and fleeing she’d saved her son, but killed her spen.

The boy was weak. He was too hot headed, too honest. He wore his heart on his sleeve and said every word that he thought. Sometimes Ozai doubted that he had Truth to speak at all. He was completely unlike his sister, a prodigy who could weave illusion nearly as soon as she could walk. She soulcast before the age of five. She was the most skilled Lightweaver to be born in decades.

She had to be. She couldn’t reveal that she could not say the last truth, could not make herself try to accept it, even if the ghostly lightweaving vision of her mother that visited every night said it without fail. She couldn’t accept it. After all, if she was a monster without even the love of her mother, then surely no one could blame her for the atrocities she commited, it was simply in her nature. It was why she could smile at the duel, why she could laugh as her brother was sent on an impossible quest, why she could focus on how much closer that made her to the throne.

Odium liked that, the passion of her people, the passion of her family, her passion.

Zuko had passion as well, but it was not a kind that Oduim enjoyed.

So Zuko was banished, for an impassioned speech to save men Odium considered no better than discarded toys. An impassioned plea for a useless passion.

Zuko was almost relieved, for it gave him the opportunity to hide that his spren was not a cryptid at all. His mistspren, Iroh, spoke in a light accent that almost always had a proverb or a chuckle, and the few times Zuko risked looking into shadesmar, he found a rotund, smiling old man. Upon materializing in the material world, one of the first things he did was hear someone offer a cup of tea to a man who was distraught, and had latched onto that. Zuko could barely say a word without the kindly spren suggesting a tea break.

Zuko feared the day that he would be material enough to actually carry the tea leaves to a cup.

But Zuko… couldn’t say the ideals. He didn’t know what they would mean. Not at first. It wasn’t until he left a stonewards home in the Earth Kingdom, after days of hearing nothing but hate and fear towards his people, that he felt the words at his lips.

“I will seek the truth, even when it is painful to me.”

“Well done, Prince Zuko.” Iroh had said. “Now, how about some tea.”

“We’re in the middle of the dessert.”

“So?”

“There’s no tea anywhere within a hundred miles of here!”

“Well, all you need for tea is leaves, yes? I will find pre-tea.”

“No, it’s not any leaves! You can’t just-”

But Zuko almost feared that oath, for what did it mean for his mission that would restore him to his home? He was more powerful now, but would that be enough to capture the Bondsmith that he had been chasing for months?

The bondsmiths were rare, after all, only three spren could form a bondsmith pack, and two had been damaged so dearly that they were as dead as a Spren of their nature could be for nearly a century. There was only one spren whose identity had been unknown, the spren created by the slain honor, the Avatar.

A century past, when all manner of radiants were formed in all manner of locations, Windrunners found themselves drawn to one another, taking shelter in mountain top homes across the world where they could immediately be sent out to help others. For warriors, they were a peaceful people who desired not to fight, but to protect. Though honor spren bonded men and women of every people back then, nearly every member of the Air Nomads was a windrunner, as the men and women lived and taught their ideals.

Aang was young when he bonded his spren, not the youngest but still young. The Windrunners wondered why they never saw the boy’s spren after he swore the first ideal, but reasoned that while honor spren were not often shy, each had their own distinct personalities and a timid spren could only help the foolhardy boy. They questioned why he did not use the gravitational lashing, though relaxed when he was able to use the surge of adhesionc Different people excelled at different elements of surge binding after all.

However, Aang was seeing a world that was starting to crack under the pre-war tensions. He saw merchants refusing trades with other nations, sneers and insults and hate. When his two closest friends, Bumi and Kuzon, both confessed that their parents forbade them from playing together, he couldn’t take it. He hated to see the balanced world tearing itself apart and uttered the words with a yell “I will unite instead of divide!”

He was the youngest bondsmith to ever bond a spren, but the Avatar, a spren element of honor who upheld balance and unity, was sure of its choice oice. However, ironically the bond did nothing but divide him from others his age. It drove a chasm between him and his playmates, as they recognized his unique and great power. When the elders spoke, and threatened to separate the boy of unity from the only family he’d ever known he’d panicked and fled, ending up in a storm and utilizing his powers to create a protective shell around himself and his pet, his ever-renewing stormlight keeping him alive as his body froze.

As a hundred years passed the world changed. Spren were killed, oaths were broken, and radiants were captured and tortured, until in some places, such as the Southern Water Tribe, no radiants bonded at all. None except for one girl, Katara, the daughter of a chief who saw a decimated people barely able to survive and vowed not to forget them. Who saw their pleas for help being ignored and promised to listen to those without a voice. The edgedancer glided through the stiffest snow like it was clear ice and scaled glaciers like the handholds formed at her whim. She healed the sick and wounded as her brother, Sokka, a non-radiant protected and bore the tribe’s last, hidden shardblade.

Their father had entrusted the shardblade to him before disappearing to fight in the war, knowing that the benefit to having the blade would be outweighed by the enemies that would seek it, and the allies that were willing to become enemies to obtain it. The blade was large, a straight line of sheer unworldly black. If one were to peak into shadesmar, they would find a peakspren with skin of dark stone following the blade. If they looked closely, they might see the spren tilt its head when the boy lovingly talked to his weapon.

In this changed world there is also a willshaper. A young girl in a gilded cage who longs to be free and wishes that others have that same option. A girl whose parents immediately, upon seeing cloudy eyes, traveled to the Nightwatcher in search of their boon and curse. Perhaps they hadn’t been clear enough, for they asked that their daughter could see the world, but her eyes did not grow clear. However, as the child began to walk upon stone itself, discarding fancy shoes and plush carpets, she found that with each step she could feel and hear the ground beneath her feet. The stone would tell her where she was, what was near, and what those around her were doing. She found a vision far beyond mere sight of the eyes, a vision constantly being renewed by light leeched from the stones themselves, just enough to keep this one power constant. This was the boon of the Nighwatcher. What was the curse? None can say. Perhaps it was that the girls parents would never truly understand the gift of the boon. Perhaps it was that the girl would never feel happy in the left they wished to foist upon her. Perhaps it was something else entirely. It didn’t matter, for when the Bondsmith, the Edgedancer, and the Shardbearer came, she could no more stay with her parents than she could break her oaths. She was taking the chance to be free.

There were others in this world as well. There was a warrior in a green dress and war makeup, who had bonded no spren but enjoyed watching the windspren dance around her fans. The Honor spren were said to all have died in the genocide but… she couldn’t help but hope as she protected her people, then left to protect others that needed her.

There was a princess with white hair, with startling insights into the truth of the spirit world and who would one day use her stormlight to use regrowth on a spirit, condemning herself to death on wounds she didn’t have light enough to heal.

There was an elderly inventor, an elsecaller who had used transportation to bring himself and his crippled son to a safe place where he could work on creating fabrials to stop the war. Though, when he was discovered by the Fire Nation his work did nothing but perpetuate it.

There was a teen of messy hair, whose spen formed dual blades. He was a skybreaker, bound to the ideal that the Fire Nation was evil, that their very presence in the world was a wrong that needed to be corrected. He lashed himself into trees and created a home for children, teaching them his ways and bonds.

There was a girl of the Fire Nation, who was so often mistaken for her own many siblings that she was determined never to forget anyone else. She danced on the world, walking wires like it would be impossible that she should fall, gliding when others walked.

Her friend, a willshaper who had been trapped by chains of propriety and expectation, who spoke to the ground to form weapons of peerless balance, who would appear without warning, and whose enemies often went down before knowing they were in danger.

Zuko sought the Avatar’s Bondsmith, facing foe after foe as he travelled the world. He could find no edgedancer or truthwatcher who could heal the scar that marked him traitor, that marked him an honorless traitor. His surges were weak with the second oath, and Iroh could not form a blade until the next was spoken, leaving him with simple steel.

In fact, it wasn’t until he had achieved his purpose, the Avatar-Bondsmith supposedly dead through the bold of ribbon that Azula had soulcast into lightening, that he was able to profess the next ideal. Name restored, sitting at the right hand of his father, he realized that there was no truth in the Fire Nation. He realized that everything he had learned his whole life were beautiful lies. He knew the truth now, and Iron sat at his shoulder with a weakening voice, imploring him not to break his oath.

It was only then that he knew what words were pushing at his mouth, as he whispered to himself, broken, “I will see the truth declared, in spite of those who would try to hide it.”

When he stood, Iroh was a set of Dual Doas in his hand, and he marched to confront his father on the day that Odium’s Voidlight would be eclipsed.

#avatar the last airbender #The Stormlight Archive #knights radiant #Surgebinding #More like Surgebending #Zuko #Azula #Iroh #Ozai #Aang #Katara #Sokka #Toph #Suki #Yue #JET #Tai Lee #Mai

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lizziestudieshistory · 3 years

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Books of 2021 - Words of Radiance by Brandon Sanderson

It’s probably time to admit what is probably my most unpopular opinion about the Cosmere: I hate Words of Radiance. It’s the book I have to slog my way through to get to Oathbringer. Part of my dislike is heavily linked to my disillusionment about Shallan… However, I do think the big moments in this book – most notably the duel scene and final battle – cloud people to the genuine faults in it. It is a technical step up from The Way of Kings, but there are huge parts of this book that are unnecessarily slow to read and there is a huge thematic drop that starts in this book that I cannot forgive Sanderson for. I also dislike a lot of the individual plotlines, major characters are barely in this book, and a lot of the big reveals/developments feel unearned because they had to happen in this book so we could get on with the more important conflicts in the rest of the series.

This review has spoilers for The Stormlight Archive, you have been warned.

Structure and Plot

I don’t want to touch on the structure too much because a lot of my niggles for The Way of Kings continue into Words of Radiance. All of these books have too much fat around them – the interludes continue to feel irrelevant; the main bulk of the book is drawn out slightly too much; and the flashbacks are merely okay, they haven’t reached the level of Oathbringers’ flashback sequence yet. However, Sanderson does make some serious improvements in this book.

Shallan, our focus character, does have a much more interesting backstory and the flashbacks have slightly more bearing on the present-day plotline. However, for me, they lose interest on subsequent rereads and there are slightly too many of them that don’t add any new information once we’re aware of how terrible her family life is. They are an improvement on Kaladin’s, and I like them a lot more, however, considering how much we STILL don’t know about Shallan (as of Rhythm of War) Sanderson could have utilised them better in this book. Saying this, I do remember really liking the flashbacks on my first read, so I really do think my current negativity is a product of having read this book one too many times? I’m going to hold off on Sanderson for a couple of years after this reread so (if I remember) I’ll come back and reevaluate how I feel about Shallan’s flashbacks with a fresher eye.

Sanderson also gets us into this book a lot quicker than he did in The Way of Kings. Jasnah’s prologue is one of my favourites in the series so far, and part one does hit the ground running. It sucks the reader back into the world, refamiliarised with the essentials of the story, as well as introducing the next leg of the plot. It’s a fabulous introduction and it’s one of the strongest first parts in the series as a whole.

Unfortunately, the pacing doesn’t reflect this strong introduction – once Shallan loses Jasnah’s guidance, and Kaladin is established as Dalinar’s guard the book dramatically slows down. Kaladin’s chapters, while slow, have some differentiation to break them up with Bridge Four learning how to be guards. Shallan’s turns into an interminable slog across the countryside. One of the things I loathe in fantasy are the long journeys with nothing going on – sometimes they can be done beautifully. For example, I love Sam and Frodo’s section in The Two Towers, but Shallan’s is just painful. Sam and Frodo’s journey is so fascinating because of the internal struggle they are going through (together and separately), it’s atmospheric and powerful because of its character work. Yes they are trying to get to Mordor, but the goal isn’t what matters here – it’s whether Sam and Frodo can survive the journey, and what state they will be in when they get there.

Shallan’s journey is clearly a way to get her to the Shattered Plains in the right circumstances and it shows. We’re journeying from A to B, with a few obstacles thrown in. There is some development from Shallan as she learns the basics to being a conwoman from Tyn. However, again this is something thrown in to keep Shallan’s point of view interesting while she’s riding through the countryside. It’s not vital character growth that can only be done at this point in the journey. If we’re going to slog it through the wilderness there needs to be a point to it that can only be learnt from showing such a long journey – otherwise cut down Shallan’s chapters in this section and only show the necessary highlights, while hinting at the longer journey through her internal reflections.

I’m also just going to throw out that I was bored in part three – the end of this part is phenomenal, and contains the famous duel scene with Adolin and Kaladin, which is one of the highlights of the whole series. However, the build up to this scene is repetitive and a bit dull in places? It’s possibly because I’m not a huge fan of Shallan and Kaladins’ arcs in this book. I’ve never liked the Ghostbloods plotline (and it’s only gotten worse with the Thaidakar reveal in Rhythm of War), Shallan’s romance with Adolin is slightly cringey, and I’m going to have a rant about the Kaladin/Moash conflict when I get to writing about Kaladin’s character. The main plotlines in this book are a bit…painful? They scream filler for a lot of part three – I don’t necessarily mind it; I actually like the conflict between Adolin and Kaladin because it does make sense for both characters. It doesn’t do much except build a camaraderie between them and develop their characters, but there are a few too many scenes of it, along with the painful romance scenes. Sorry, romance isn’t Sanderson’s strong point…

Prose

Still painful, still don’t love it. I do think there is a slight improvement between The Way of Kings and Words of Radiance because there aren’t any egregious moments that stand out to me in this book. Some moments, such as Kaladin’s first flight through the chasms and then when he’s flying with Syl over the Shattered Plains, even stand out as highlights for Sanderson’s writing – I really feel Kaladin’s joy and sense of freedom. There are some lovely moments in this book, and it does mark an improvement in Sanderson’s writing style! However, I’m still not a fan of Sanderson’s prose as a whole, it still feels clunky in places, and I’d prefer it to be a little bit more refined. This is very much a personal preference complaint though, as I stressed in my The Way of Kings review.

Magic System

I should probably discuss Sanderson’s magic system in the Stormlight Archive at this point, especially as it’s becoming more and more relevant as we continue into the series.

So, for those of you who are reading this without having read the book (why?!), Stormlight is dominated by a hard magic system called Surgebinding. Human Surgebinders (I’ll probably discuss the Singer’s surgebinding abilities in a later review) are members of one of the ten orders of the Knight’s Radiant: Windrunners, Skybreakers, Dustbringers, Edgedancers, Truthwatchers, Lightweavers, Elsecallers, Willshapers, Stonewards, and Bondsmiths. Each order possess the ability to manipulate two of the ten surges using Stormlight to power their abilities:

Windrunners: adhesion and gravitation

Skybreakers: gravitation and division

Dustbringers: division and abrasion

Edgedancers: abrasion and progression

Truthwatchers: progression and illumination

Lightweavers: illimitation and transformation

Elsecallers: transformation and transportation

Willshapers: transportation and cohesion

Stonewards: cohesion and tension

Bondsmiths: tension and adhesion

They also gain magical armour and weapons known as Shardplate and Shardblades, although when each order gets their plate and plate depends on the order and spren/nahel bond. The order of the Radiant will depend on what oaths they swear and what type of spren they are bonded to:

Windrunners: honorspren

Skybreakers: highspren

Dustbringers: ashspren

Edgedancers: cultivationspren

Lightweavers: cryptics (“liespren”)

Elsecallers: inkspren

Willshapers: lightspren

Stonewards: peakspren

Bondsmiths: the Stormfather, Nightwatcher, or the Sibling (I don’t think we have a spren category for these three)

In Words of Radiance, we get the most insight into Windrunners and Lightweavers through Kaladin and Shallan, respectively, so I’m going to focus on these orders. This does actually work well because the Windrunners and Lightweavers can represent the two “styles” of orders quite well, each one being fairly structured or esoteric respectively.

Kaladin’s Windrunner powers are the most stereotypical magical ability – using gravitation Kaladin can fly, well technically fall in any direction, but the effect is the same. We see him using his powers to soar through the skies above the Shattered Plains, and run on walls. The effect is incredibly cinematic to read (although I suspect it would look ridiculous if poorly adapted into a visual medium) and enhances Kaladin’s status as an ‘action hero’. His other ability, adhesion, is slightly less dramatic – at least when it’s used straightforwardly. He can stick things together, or draw objects towards something else, including people, with magical superglue.

However, Kaladin’s, and the rest of the Knights Radiants’, powers are connected to the oaths he swears and his bond with Sylphrena (Syl). The Knights are granted the ability to surgebind and control their powers through 5 oaths, each order has different oaths but the first is universal: ‘Life before Death, Strength before Weakness, Journey before Destination’. In Kaladin’s case his oaths are connected to protecting others, which does slightly excuse Kaladin’s “saving people thing” and inability to let it go if people he cares about die. Whether Kaladin keeps his oath depends on whether Syl, his bonded Honorspren, best friend, and a tiny piece of divinity in her own right, agrees whether he is keeping them in spirit – something we explore at length with Kaladin’s plotline in this book.

Shallan’s Lightweaver powers are also incredibly visual, especially as she spends all of this book focusing on illumination, which gives her the ability to shape Stormlight into realistic illusions. Her abilities are particularly useful for subterfuge and lies as Shallan can use them on herself to change her appearance, or on their own to make it appear as if something is there when it’s not. Her other ability – soulcasting, the surge of transformation – still hasn’t been explored as of Rhythm of War. Soulcasting changes one substance into another, but exactly how it works and the extent of its power is still uncertain. However, from what we’ve seen through Jasnah, who also has the ability, it is overpowered and very cool.

Shallan’s oaths are less obvious than Kaladin’s and it’s hard to tell what oath she’s on by the end of the book – although this is also heavily linked to Shallan’s backstory and developments in her character in later books,Shallan is definitely a non-standard Radiant! Her oaths, after the initial oath, are made up of truths about herself. She speaks her truths to her spren, Pattern, in order to progress as a Radiant. Her oaths also force her to develop as a person, which has been a painful process because Shallan has been lying to herself since she was a child and doesn’t want to admit what she’s done.

The magic system is clearly very complicated, and we still don’t know everything about it, six of the ten orders haven’t been explored through their specific books, and even the orders we have seen a lot from through our viewpoint characters are shrouded in mystery – I’m still not entirely sure what Bondsmiths do despite having the Bondsmith book (Oathbringer) because the order is so esoteric. It’s well drawn and compelling, especially as Sanderson uses the progression of the Knights as a mystery throughout the books. Despite not being that interested in hard magic systems the magic in this book is interesting and I really like the structure around the Radiants – it also makes for interesting discussion, debates, and Harry Potter style quizzes in the fandom, which is fun!

Characters and Plotlines

Kaladin, Syl, and Moash – Unfortunately, my new found love of Kaladin was tried in this novel because Kaladin REALLY gets on my nerves in Words of Radiance. It’s not because I disagree with Kaladin per se… I actually agree with a lot of Kaladin’s anger, resentment, and sense of injustice with the social system in Vorin/Alethi society. Kaladin has a right to feel angry and seek retribution for what was done to him, and Bridge Four.

However, Kaladin walks around with a massive chip on his shoulder in this book, particularly in how he talks to and thinks about Dalinar and his immediate family. His motivation I can understand and sympathise with, but the impression of ‘I’m so hard done to, the world is against me’ that Kaladin radiates in this book feels completely at odds with the reality of his situation. Yes, Kaladin has a right to be angry. Yes, he has a right to seek justice. But there is no reason he should be so personally antagonistic towards everyone because of their social position. He is in a position of power, he’s outside the social hierarchy to a large extent, and in control of his own life (and the lives of the ex-Bridgecrews). Kaladin is angry at everyone and everything, but he’s losing the justification for a lot of his resentment, particularly when it’s expressed towards Dalinar and his sons.

In particular I have an issue with Kaladin’s main plotline around Moash and the attempt to assassinate Elhokar. Aside from the fact I hate Moash, to the extent where Moash could be dropped from the books without resolution and I wouldn’t bat an eye (sorry Moash fans - I’ve never liked him…), this plotline just doesn’t feel right for Kaladin’s character. It actually feels like a betrayal of the character we got to know in The Way of Kings and continue with in Oathbringer/Rhythm of War. I can’t see a world where Kaladin Stormblessed is okay with murder or assassination.

Kaladin’s whole deal is honour and justice - justice as in what’s morally right (legality is another thing entirely!) He also wants to protect everyone, including Syl - Syl perhaps above everyone else as Tien is dead - but this plot is something she explicitly isn’t comfortable with and is concerned about. I CAN see a world where Kaladin pursues a plan to see Elhokar removed from power, but not assassinated. The argument about Elhokar’s removal being like removing a gangrenous limb (or whatever the exact metaphor was) doesn’t hold up for his character.

What makes this whole plotline worse is it doesn’t really lead anywhere, other than placing Moash on the opposite side to Kaladin in the upcoming war. All that we really get from it is confirmation that Kaladin is a Windrunner to the core (which we already knew) and Moash is on whatever side Kaladin isn’t because they’re foils for each other. However, the only real outcome of this entire 1,000 page plotline is Moash is maneuvered into position for his arc in Oathbringer, and Kaladin gets to swear his third ideal. Yet Kaladin’s perspective doesn’t radically change and quite frankly working out the third ideal could have been done in another way, without betraying Kaladin’s character for two thirds of a book. It was there to conveniently get a few characters where they needed to be for the next book, and to let Kaladin have another superhero moment. I love Kaladin superhero moments as much as anyone else - I just wish it wasn’t prefaced with this plotline.

One thing I really don’t understand - and is why I dislike this plotline so much - is why we’re stressing so much on a Kaladin-Moash friendship anyway. They don’t feel like friends! Honestly, this is a larger problem with Bridge Four as a whole - their friendship with Kaladin doesn’t feel earnt. Well no, Rock, Teft, and Lopen do. But the larger part of Bridge Four feels like they’re just there? They definitely feel like they’re friends with each other, but not necessarily with Kaladin.

I’ve already confessed that I’m not the biggest fan of Bridge Four at the best of times because they feel like a sports team underdog narrative, which is honestly my worst nightmare of a storyline. However, I DO want to see Sanderson actually show Kaladin being friends with them, especially as they are such a huge part of his motivation to protect. We have one scene - the bar scene - with a few of them acting like a genuine friendship group. Yet this doesn’t make for a genuine friendship, we need more little moments throughout the book, including Kaladin.

Sanderson does improve on the Bridge Four dynamic, Oathbringer and Rhythm of War make me feel like Bridge Four are genuine mates a lot more than Words of Radiance does. However, for this book we do need to see Kaladin and Moash as real friends, maybe even as close as brothers, for the Elhokar assassination plotline to work. But we don’t! It’s easier for me to believe Adolin and Kaladin’s friendship than Moash and Kaladin! And Adolin and Kaladin spend most of this book bickering…

I think the real issue with this plotline is the execution. The way Kaladin’s character has been established, the lack of page time spent on Bridge Four as a whole and Moash in particular, and ultimately small outcomes for this plotline makes it feel tedious and slightly pointless. Sanderson needed to increase the REAL stakes - there was no way Kaladin was really going to lose his status as a radiant, just for narrative reasons - and work on the emotional impact. We need to believe Kaladin would really go through with the assassination, and his friendship with Moash before getting to this plotline. But as we don’t, or at least I don’t, feel this so Kaladin’s anger and it’s consequential plotline ends up frustrating me to the point where Kaladin is on thin ice for a lot of this novel.

Shallan - Okay, I’m going to address the elephant in the room later - the elephant is Shallan and the “Boots scene” if you weren’t aware. However, I do have a few other complaints about Shallan in this book.

My main issue with Shallan, excluding the classism I’m addressing later, is that a lot of her character feels unearned (in this book specifically not as a general rule.) Not in the sense that her powers feel unearned, or her backstory isn’t believable (which I really love), but her achievements and relationships in Words of Radiance feel cheap. There are several moments that stick out to me as being particularly annoying.

Firstly, Shallan’s ability to control Tvlakv, Tyn, and the merchant caravans. Personally, I find this whole situation ridiculous when I think about it. I can go along with Shallan being able to get to the Shattered Plains miraculously meeting the slave trader who sold Kaladin. However, the fact Shallan is apparently capable of manipulating Tvlakv into taking her there with very little conflict is ludicrous.

Shallan’s a shipwrecked, fairly middling noble with few resources at her immediate disposal, and a somewhat shy (if on later acquaintance bubbly) personality. It doesn’t make sense to me that she can have this influence over Tvlakv. Yes she’s been taught by Jasnah, and yes she does have some confidence/authority from her own position as a lighteyes. However, I’m really struggling to believe that, at this point in her story, she is a good enough actress to pull off an aloof lighteyed woman of significant enough rank to make Tvlakv do what she wants, especially when they’ve met in the middle of nowhere and Shallan has no other options.

My second issue with this is with Adolin and Sabarial. Adolin also falls into my larger complaints about Sanderson’s romances, which are by far the weakest elements in any of his books. However, let’s start with Sabarial:

So… Why the hell does Sabarial take her in? It makes ZERO sense. The ‘because it annoys Dalinar’ argument just doesn’t cut it, and neither does the ‘Sabarial is so weird’ perspective. As bonkers as he appears on the surface, we know Sabarial is a shrewd businessman. He’s lazy, but also a clever and manipulative leader, he doesn’t do anything without getting something in return. However, he doesn’t get anything from taking Shallan in except the satisfaction of getting one up on Dalinar? She doesn’t even do his accounts properly! It feels like an inconsistent character move that is only there to suit the storytelling and give Shallan more freedom, rather than demonstrate Sabarial's motivations.

Okay Adolin is both better and worse than Sabarial. I can genuinely understand why Adolin likes Shallan so much and vice versa. I love the relationship they have once it’s been established - they’re good for each other (well I think Adolin is better for Shallan than she is for him, but the point stands.) However, it’s just so insta-lovey! They just meet and it’s like the heavens aligned, and a perfect relationship blossoms. It’s not quite that fast, but it’s pretty quick. And I just don’t buy that initial push into their bond.

I just find this initial meeting and first couple of dates unbelievable? It’s also very cringey… I can’t read some of their ‘banter’ because it’s painful for me at this point - I’m literally Kaladin whenever he has to watch them together. It’s the worst combination of Sanderson’s sense of humour, his poor romances, and annoyingly quirky characters. By Oathbringer I do think they have a good, settled relationship going on, but in this book I really dislike the way it’s sparked. (I’m also questioning why Adolin doesn’t seem to be mourning Jasnah and is going out on dates? It just seems off to me!)

Honestly, I could probably live with both of these aspects if it wasn’t for the final, most egregious issue I have with Shallan in Words of Radiance. Her discovering Urithiru.

I cannot stress enough how much I HATE that Shallan discovered the Oathgate on the Shattered Plains. The other successes feel unrealistic and unearnt but are ultimately small moments that would have to happen in some form - Shallan has to get to the Shattered Plains, and she has to meet/fall in love with Adolin. They’re irritating in how they’re executed but are ultimately okay instagatory moments.

On the other hand, finding Urithiru is one of the biggest moments in the whole series! It’s a significant part of the climax of the whole book! Without it we’d be reading a very different series in Oathbringer and beyond. But giving this huge moment to Shallan is completely out of proportion to the work she’s put in. Yes, Shallan has been looking for it for a few months, she wants to continue Jasnah’s work. However, Jasnah has been slaving away at this for YEARS, literally YEARS. Why does Shallan get this moment of triumph? It’s completely unwarranted for what she’s done, especially as she literally couldn’t have done it without Jasnah’s research. It just pisses me off that we seem to give all the credit to her when, in reality, she drew a map.

I think this annoys me so much because Sanderson went down the ‘kill the mentor’ trope for this book. There was actually very little reason to remove Jasnah in the way he did in Words of Radiance - Shallan could have easily been ignored by Jasnah once they reached Shattered Plains as she’s dealing with the high stakes politics/war effort with Dalinar, leaving Shallan to get embroiled with the Ghostbloods and Adolin. This would have left small amounts of time to see them working together on their scholarship, whilst also giving Shallan room to grow. Using ‘kill the mentor’ AND having Jasnah return from the ‘dead’ felt cheap the first time around (nevermind this one!) whilst achieving very little that couldn’t have been done in other ways.

Overall, I just think Sanderson overplays Shallan’s competence in this book. She’s still a 17/18 year old girl and he’s overdoing it with her abilities that aren’t related to her Radiant powers. The discoveries she makes don’t live up to her reality of character and I find it irritating.

I’ve said a lot that is negative about Shallan - I do get more positive after this book, so that’s something I guess? Nevertheless, I do want to say one thing I really love about Shallan and this book is her backstory. Apart from Dalinar, Shallan has the best backstory out of the main characters we’ve seen so far. The abuse from her father, casual cruelty and neglect within her family, and Shallan’s own darkness is fascinating to read about - if slightly distressing. I don’t have much to say about it as a whole because I think it’s very effective in adding a darker layer into Shallan’s character, as well as being a much more interesting story than Kaladin’s was in The Way of Kings.

Sanderson hasn’t quite mastered the interweaving of the flashbacks into the main storyline in Words of Radiance, then again Oathbringer was exceptionally good in comparison to all the other books for this aspect. However, the Words of Radiance flashbacks are a marked improvement and made for a great way to deepen Shallan’s character past the hints we’d seen in her chapters in the first book. I think it’s a very believable backstory. It’s probably the backstory that’s having the most ‘present day’ impact on the character in question (again Dalinar is a close second but Sanderson dropped the ball with his character growth in Rhythm of War.) Shallan’s past is fabulous and well utilised by Sanderson to make her grow - and I did want to say something positive about Shallan because, despite not liking her, I do think she is a very well written character.

Pattern - I want to say that, despite my apparent vendetta against Shallan, I REALLY love Pattern! He’s so annoyingly sweet, sincere, and genuine! Actually he reminds me a lot of one of my dogs, which might be a contributing factor to my enjoyment of him? Either way Pattern is one of the best spren characters we’ve met so far - he’s amazing!

Dalinar - I’m mainly here to complain there isn’t enough Dalinar in this book and I miss him… I understand why he isn’t as present in Words of Radiance as he is in The Way of Kings and Oathbringer. However, I do think the absence of both Dalinar and Jasnah - my two “problematic faves”, plus Kaladin feeling very off for most of this book, contributes to why I don’t like it very much. Their loss leaves a big hole for my personal enjoyment and attachment, especially on rereads. It’s a very personal problem and comes down to who you read the series for (and whether you like Shallan or not.)

Although, when we get one of the few Dalinar chapters I am ecstatic because they’re all particularly punchy in this book! Chapter 67 - Spit and Bile - when Wit and Dalinar discuss his nature as a ‘benevolent tyrant’ is one of my favourites in the whole series. It’s a real moment of character realisation for Dalinar and gives us some FANTASTIC food for thought before we get to the shocking revelations of Oathbringer.

Kaladin and Shallan, Class Status, and the Boots Scene

Okay, it’s time to address the elephant in the room – Sanderson dropping the ball on his discussion of class conflict. I loved Sanderson’s introduction of class conflict, it’s something I’m particularly interested in as a British person. However, he handles this theme badly in Words of Radiance and drops it completely in Oathbringer, and it was almost a deal breaker for me on this reread. I’m genuinely upset about it.

So, a lot of Kaladin’s arc in this book is centred around him learning to look past his (valid) anger over what was done to him by the lighteyes, and specifically Amaram. Of course, this can’t really be resolved in one book, and I do hope Sanderson listens to the very vocal criticism around his “resolving” of Kaladin’s anger by pressing Kaladin into siding with his oppressors without uncritically examining his choices in books 3 and 4 (as well as making him a de facto lighteyes himself). However, in Words of Radiance Kaladin is very much giving into his anger now he has the opportunity to live, rather than just survive, and Sanderson uses a lot of his interactions with Dalinar, Adolin, and Shallan to show him ‘not all lighteyes are bad’.

I do have issues with the way Sanderson handles this with Adolin and Dalinar - maybe Dalinar not so much because his character has A LOT of other issues going on and his interactions with Kaladin are very much structured by their positions in the army. Their relationship remains largely professional, especially in this book, and Kaladin is shown to trust and respect Dalinar and vice versa. Not to mention that Dalinar is actually prepared to listen to Kaladin’s version of events and do his best to get justice for Kaladin against Amaram - it’s just not an easy situation to prove or resolve, and it can’t be done in the way Kaladin wants.

As an aside for the rest of the series - I do have issues with Kaladin’s long term idolisation of Dalinar as a leader and ‘noble’ lighteyes. We haven’t really seen Kaladin’s reaction to the revelations from Oathbringer (the in-world version) which I do think would change the dynamic between them. After all, the revelations about Dalinar show him to be worse than Amaram in many respects! Kaladin should have a reaction to the morality around Dalinar’s actions in the past, even if he is trying to change, and not just continue as they did before. Although, this issue ties into the larger problems with the series structure and how Sanderson keeps all but dropping Dalinar’s character growth in every other book - we need to address the consequences for revealing his past to the world, particularly with his family and political allies, not just sweep them under the carpet as we did in Rhythm of War!

In contrast to Kaladin’s relationship with Dalinar, he and Adolin are on a slightly more (although not completely) equal level, as demonstrated by their bickering, banter, and eventual friendship. Their relationship begins with Adolin’s suspicions about Kaladin, Kaladin’s hatred for lighteyes, and a mutual grudge against each other, but their relationship grows into a very real friendship after the duel sequence. Their relationship is one that has never bothered me because they had that rocky start. They grow into a friendship of equals, their distrust turns into a genuine bond because they learn to trust each other as they prove to each other that they aren’t what they first assumed.

Most importantly, despite the rocky start, neither of them are actively dismissive of the other based on their social status - Adolin never demeens Kaladin for being darkeyed and once Kaladin gets to know Adolin better his hostility towards lighteyes in general vanishes as they established their personal bond. The only moment you can point to Adolin actively dismissing Kaladin due to his social status is in The Way of Kings when he asks him to take a message to someone in the prostitute scene (sorry I’m not looking up the page numbers.) Adolin never shows dislike of anyone because they are darkeyes and definitely does not toy with those of a lesser social status than himself. Yes, I do agree Sanderson could do a better job of using the relationships between Adolin, Kaladin, and Bridge Four to address some of the subconscious biases Adolin holds. But Adolin is never cruel or manipulative to those with less social status.

This brings me to the big reason why I’ve come to loathe Shallan and the key reason I dislike Sanderson’s mishandling of the social class discussion. It’s not even necessarily Shallan herself that I dislike, it’s the way the narrative frames her character and Sanderson’s dismissal of Kaladin’s anger. I could look past most of the problems I’ve raised against Shallan if it wasn’t for the way Sanderson portrayed her in this book. I still don’t think she’d be my favourite character now but I wouldn’t feel the urge to close the book every time I have to read her chapters.

However, Shallan is probably the best example we have in a point of view character of the minor abuses of the lighteyes against anyone of a lower social class than themselves. I’m not talking about the major crimes committed by Sadeas or Amaram where they show a blatant disregard for life, but I am talking about the subtle abuses of those with wealth and rank against those less fortunate.

Throughout the series we see Shallan casually and absentmindedly manipulate, dismiss, and bully darkeyed individuals. She’s not maliciously cruel, but she is casually abusive. She treats people like Kaladin or the slaves she ends up owning as less than herself, especially when she first meets them. I’m not here to say this is Shallan’s fault per se. She has been taught to do so by her society, she’s been indoctrinated into a system that believes those with darkeyes are lesser than herself because the Almighty has deemed it to be this way. It’s an inbuilt, largely unconscious bias formed by the society she was brought up in. I’d actually like this character trait if Sanderson used it to challenge Shallan and make her grow as a character, like pretty much EVERYONE else has to do with aspects of their character!

But Sanderson doesn’t. Shallan is given a free pass for toying with darkeyes or those of a lower dahn than herself and using them to amuse herself, or even for dismissing them. And it’s not just once she does it, it’s a systematic behaviour in this book. Now, I will admit most of the time this behaviour is used against...unsavoury characters - it’s usually people like Tvlakv, a slave trader, who often fall victim to Shallan’s manipulation. As an audience we don’t like Tvlakv and don’t really care if he’s manipulated and pushed around by Shallan because of his earlier treatment of Kaladin. We like Kaladin, we like Shallan, but Tvlakv? Not so much. But her casual dismissal of Tvlakv’s life and livelihood (putting my loathing of slavery aside for the moment) does show Shallan’s contempt of those beneath her in general.

The better case to demonstrate Shallan’s classism is in her scenes with Kaladin. There are two moments I could use to make my point: the infamous “Boots” scene in chapter 28 and the Chasm sequence in Part 4. In both these scenes we see Shallan, in a position of power, dismiss Kaladin - the “Boots” scene is by far the worst of these two, but the later sequence give us a better glimpse into the problems with Sanderson’s framing of Shallan’s and Kaladin’s past traumas. Shallan’s trauma is validated by this scene, but Kaladin’s very justified dislike and anger is dismissed by both Sanderson and Shallan. There is very little, leading up to the Chasm sequence, that suggests Shallan is a nice person to Kaladin and he has a lot of long-term trauma from mistreatment and abuse from lighteyes in general. Kaladin should be allowed to hold onto his resentment to some extent. Instead he is forced to get rid of it because of Sanderson’s inflexible belief that all anger, even righteous anger, is wrong.

I could elaborate on this scene but as this review is now ludicrously long, I’m going to stick to the Boots scene as it is simpler and I don’t really need to summarise the scene because it’s so well. The basics you need are: Shallan uses her gender, social position, and Kaladin’s relative lack of authority to humiliate him in front of his men and con him out of his boots. And it’s played for laughs.

There is a small hint later on that Shallan shouldn’t have done what she did when Kaladin confronts her about the incident outside the meeting of the Highprinces. Yet, a large part of this was Shallan saving face when she realised he is Captain of the Kholins’ guard and could pose a serious threat to her plans if he felt so inclined. She doesn’t express any remorse for her behaviour morally speaking, nor does she think that she shouldn’t mess around with people who can’t fight back. No, she’s remorseful because it’s convenient for her.

The 'Boots' scene isn’t funny. It’s a clear, if childish, display of the sheer amount of power lighteyes have over everyone socially below them. But Sanderson doesn’t depict it in that way. It’s just there as an amusing scene, and to get Shallan and Kaladin off on the wrong foot. Kaladin was just doing his job, grumpily, and didn’t deserve this treatment from Tyn or Shallan. Especially as Shallan very much knows that she ISN’T a conwoman and she really IS Adolin’s betrothed - she doesn’t need to impress Tyn, especially not this close to the Shattered Plains. So, she has little excuse for acting in the way that she did, and she really didn’t need to humiliate Kaladin in front of his men. As the audience, we know Kaladin’s command isn’t going to be affected because of his history with Bridge Four, and we know he can replace his boots. But Shallan doesn’t and it only shows how little she really considers the lives of those below her. It’s just casual cruelty that served no purpose except to entertain her and Tyn.

The fact that Shallan has never really been called out for this by the narrative/Sanderson, only by Kaladin and more socially aware fans, is outrageous. Anyone else would be - and everyone else has similar issues that narrative insists they work on and overcome. Yet Shallan is consistently let off for this behaviour. On the other end of this scene, Kaladin is forced into letting go of his anger and falling into line with the Kholins and other lighteyes, despite being systematically oppressed and mistreated by the lighteyes as a whole. Sanderson doesn’t allow Kaladin his anger and he’s punished for it throughout this book.

I will say that Kaladin isn’t completely in the right here, he did need to learn that not everyone is the embodiment of evil just because they are born into wealth and privilege. However, neither was it okay to dismiss the complex dilemma around Kaladin and class - where he needs to overcome his prejudice against everyone at the top of the social system, because there are good lighteyes, whilst still challenging that system - by making him a lighteyes. This doesn’t solve anything! His anger is valid and righteous. The Vorin social system does need a complete overhaul and Kaladin should be allowed to take the helm for that social movement - even if this arc isn’t at the forefront of the series (you know because we’re all slightly busy saving the world!)

Sanderson shouldn’t keep allowing Shallan a free pass for deeply rooted and problematic behaviours and attitudes. It doesn’t need to be a major point of discussion, especially as the series has evolved and everyone is more concerned with staying alive. However, this is a huge series, there is space in it to address this issue every now and again in the background of the novel, particularly in non-combative plotlines. It would also help to change the perspective in moments like the “Boots” scene. Rather than showing these as just funny moments, take the time to show that they are symptoms of a serious problem in Vorin society and demonstrations of the casual abuses of power lighteyes can get away with on a daily basis.

At the end of the day, Kaladin is going to be fine - and he does drive me nuts with the huge chip on his shoulder that he has throughout Words of Radiance. His only real consequence from this scene is wounded pride, he’ll recover. However, Shallan shouldn’t be let off the hook for it either and Sanderson does need to pick up this plotline on the abuse of power and class in the series. He introduced a serious discussion on the dangers of a class-based society and it’s a shame (and irresponsible) to just drop it now.

Conclusion

So I think we can all agree I don’t like a lot of this book. I’m in the minority here. There are some fantastic moments throughout Words of Radiance, but as a whole I struggle when rereading this particular entry into The Stormlight Archive. Sanderson drops the ball on one too many issues, and I really dislike Shallan here. I do get on with her slightly more in later novels - well in Rhythm of War - however, having such a heavy focus on her here makes it a slog for me to read.

Still, onward and upwards! Oathbringer is (probably) my favourite book in the whole series, although I’ve only read RoW once so that might change when I finish this reread. Hopefully I’ll have a lot more positive things to say in my next review - and I finally get to make my speech on why I love Dalinar and his backstory!

#words of radiance #brandon sanderson #stormlight archive #cosmere #book review #kaladin stormblessed #dalinar kholin #moash #pattern #not tagging a certain character because last time i had really nasty comments #i still really love this series #just not this book #fabulous sanderlanches here though #the stormlight archive

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aesudan-kholin · 3 years

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If Kaladin had actually given Elhokar hero lessons, how do you think those sessions would have gone?

so... i made a post recently about how i understand (i know lots of things, but not understand) literally nothing about them whatsoever. so answering this ask isnt going to keep in line with what i usually do of only saying something if im confident in it and reasonably sure it wont change later. AKA me from the future might not agree with what i think and say now. so just putting that out there.

so the thing about this is it probably never could have happened. elhokar was desperate, and in his desperation, whether this idea of kaladin teaching him was something that he had been stewing on for weeks to months, or something he thought of while drunk (i imagine it would be the former, though he probably didn't think about it in specific, accomplishable ways), he finally worked up the courage with the help of some alcohol to ask kaladin to do this completely un fleshed out plan of figuring out how to make elhokar not be a shit king. now, this was doomed to fail for a few reasons.

number one: elhokar had a very very good chance of legitimately being incapable of being a good king.

maybe he could have ended up (with some guidance) as a good leader at some smaller scale, like a small town, but even that is debatable. kaladin instinctively knows things, and while i definitely think he had a negative bias against elhokar and his King Skillz in that moment due their relationship being at a low point, his instinct saying 'yeah thats never gonna happen' was probably completely correct.

number two: kaladin probably would not agree to it.

2a. in that moment where he did ask, kaladin thought he was being weird as hell and was so fucking confused. he didn't know at all where this was coming from, because he is blind to how other people view him a lot of the time, and by extension how elhokar had been idolizing him. they probably hadn't seen much of each other ever since elhokar tried to execute him and throw him in jail. from kaladin's perspective, elhokar tried to kill him, then is coming to him like he has all the secrets to life, which is very baffling to him. unrelated sidenote i need to rewrite this stupid coppermind article on elhokar i did not write it but i want to fix some shit in here. so kaladin in that situation is like WTF????? in his head but out loud he's like 'um.. i dont know if thats possible for you' which is a rejection. i don't know if he would have said the same words if he was at a relative high point in his opinion of elhokar rather than potentially the lowest point that he got in wor that he was in that chapter (thinking about it the chapter where he was in prison might have been the lowest but this is a low point is what im saying), but thats probably an opinion he would have kept throughout the bumpy road of whatever tf their relationship is.

2b. kaladin has shit to do, man. dude was working double triple shifts in words of radiance, got into urithiru and was like the only windrunner, and was training overtime to train some windrunners to have some squires ready for the expedition to kholinar. after he got back he was made a highmarshall and we dont see too much in the ob-row timeskip but he wasnt getting much sleep either, and he probably had a lot of shit to do when he was awake, battles aside. when would he have had the time to even begin to think about lesson plans for this goal that in his head is sort of unachievable, let alone find time for actually talking to elhokar about shit.

so like even if elhokar did ask at a point where kaladin felt less like he was absolute crap and more like [??????? but more positive than the absolute crap thing], kaladin would still have been like dude what. and kaladin also would have been like dude i do not have the time. even in an elhokar lives au (because the first time kaladin would have potentially had any time whatsoever for that is post-kholinar), shallan would probably be the radiant he was interacting more due to lightweaver reasons. and elhokar has a great deal of respect for shallan as well, certainly not as much as he has for kaladin, but he does value shallan's skill and opinion, and shallan would not only be a lot more willing to give elhokar some support and advice, they would be working closer together anyway because of their shared order. he wouldn't be getting this nebulous "secret to life" stuff that he wanted to get from the guy who survived a highstorm, almost single handedly saved an army, beat shardbearers with nothing but a spear, and fell into the chasms only to crawl back out again even after a highstorm, but, and my future self might disagree on this, but he might have just been looking for advice on how to live his life.

but, all of that aside. lets say that kaladin for some reason decided that it was personally important to him to train elhokar to not be a shit leader, that he potentially thought it was not a lost cause, and if he did then he cared enough to try anyway. postponing kholinar (which he would have the power to do in this case, since elhokar would be listening to whatever he said*) might have given him more time for that after that request, or else he might have had to think about it and agree post-kholinar, which would involve an elhokar lives au, which i dont want to deal with all the implications so im going to say in this scenario he accepted after elhokar asked in wor 80, or maybe directly after urithiru was discovered (aka later that night) with a promise to start teaching him right after he got back from hearthstone. god i feel like alternate history hub. the later that night thing would have been more likely because that is after his whole 180 about elhokar. that way, the weird intense commitment to help elhokar be a better leader was baked in to all the other weird dramatic shifts about how he thought about elhokar.

what i think kaladin would do?

possibility 1: he would have elhokar start small. i think he would have elhokar teach a single person to do something. he would get a new recruit, and tell elhokar to teach him to be a soldier. maybe the new recruit is one of lopens cousins who saw elhokar blackout drunk and being pushed around by lopens mom to eat his food, so he's not intimidated by him. the new guy not being intimidated is key, because he can't just do what elhokar says because he's the king. after the day, kaladin talks to the new recruit then elhokar, seeing what went right and wrong, then tells elhokar what changes to make. if somehow everything went right with that, kaladin would next give him a group of 5 to lead in some way, and if that worked, a group of 50.

possibility 2: a job shadow. either kaladin job shadowing elhokar, watching all his fuck ups happen in real time, and constantly whispering advice which is offputting to the people elhokar is meeting with but its funny. the issue here comes with kaladin not knowing a lot of political theory. as good of a leader as kaladin is (which is insanely), elhokar is more well versed in political theory (as an example think of the time kaladin was like 'why is beating sadeas in a duel going to wreck him its literally just a duel' there would be a lot of situations in elhokar's work as a king that kaladin would probably be similarly confused on), even if he doesn't apply it well. either that, or elhokar job shadowing kaladin, watching kaladin train the windrunners, and breaking to explain some things to elhokar every once in a while, which elhokar would theoretically learn from. the issue here of course comes with how both of these guys both have sort of incredibly important jobs that they could probably only carve out a few hours at most for something like that. unless elhokar abdicated.

abdication.... no i shouldn't go into all of this this should be a separate 2000 word post. but abdication could come into play and is related to that *asterisk earlier.

i can not think of a third possibility, although there probably is one. i would think that possibility 1 would be more likely in my opinion.

some meme possibilities i came up with:

- kaladin lets elhokar borrow syl and elhokar wears a hat and syl is in the hat pulling bits of his hair like ratatouille and basically operating elhokar and she makes him be an ideal windrunner whenever she feels like he's fucking up

- kaladin presides over the document signing meetings and whenever elhokar is about to sign a document he thinks isn't good he slaps the pen out of his hand and has a disapproving glare. elhokar has to do the walk of shame across the room to get the pen everytime this happens

- training montage with "Gonna Fly Now" in the background where there is no dialogue and it just shows elhokar visibly failing and he tries to lift a rock with a piece of paper on it that says "kingly responsibility" and fails and kaladin shakes his head, then there's a training montage of idk him learning the spear or training other bridgemen or other kaladin-y things and wearing a bandana for no reason then by the end of the montage he successfully lifts the kingly responsibility rock

- they just completely switch jobs for a while while elhokar gets his shit together. all hail king kaladin

(+ my first thoughts)

#SORRY FOR THIS GETTING SO LONG LMFAOO i did not mean it to #also sorry for posting this so long after i got the ask i got caught up in some irl stuff #thank you genuinely for the ask #its almost 1am im not proofreading this if you see a typo or continuity error no you don't #ask #long post #the hero #room temp milk #unnamed syl tag #my posts #unnamed discord tag #stupid in chief

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anakin-skybreaker · 4 years

Text

A Brief Analysis of Clone Wars Characters Via Knights Radiant Orders

Ahsoka Tano:

It’s been stated that the Edgedancers are the most religious of the Knights Radiant orders. Faith, I believe, is a cornerstone of Ahsoka’s character; faith in the Jedi Order, losing that faith and gaining it in herself, not to mention her faith in Anakin.

A good chunk of her character arc is centered around the common man, learning the plights of the disenfranchised and living up to what the majority of people believe Jedi to stand for without the restrictions of political alignments. Edgedancer ideals fit Ahsoka’s overall arc.

Second Ideal: “I will remember those who have been forgotten.”

Third Ideal: “I will listen to those who have been ignored.”

Edgedancers have the ability to ignore friction which I feel would be well-suited to Ahsoka’s fighting style.

“...they were elegant things of beauty. They could ride the thinnest rope at speed, dance across rooftops, move through a battlefield like a ribbon on the wind.” – Edgedancer, page 4.

“When Simol was informed of the arrival of the Edgedancers, a concealed consternation and terror, as is common in such cases, fell upon him; although they were not the most demanding of orders, their graceful, limber movements hid a deadliness that was, by this time, quite renowned…” – Words of Radiance, page 20.

Captain Rex:

This might be a controversial choice considering what we know of clones, but Rex is a bondsmith. Sure Honor is a whole, veritable, god on Roshar but Rex is a bondsmith and you can pry that from my cold dead hands.

What do I have for evidence of this? Why, the Second Ideal of course.

“I unite instead of divide. I will bring men together.”

Rex watching his brothers being forced to break their oaths of honor and kill their spren all for Palpatine’s agenda. That hits different, bro.

Honestly, I don’t think I need to go any further but for the sake of it I will.

Having a clone, who many consider to be less than, climb the ranks and become a must in terms on long term warfare just feels good. Long story short, Rex is irreplaceable and he deserves an order which maximizes how irreplaceable he truly is.

Commander Cody:

Here we have our first windrunner proper.

Cody is a good man, a loyal man, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t suffer the same ideological differences and hypocrises that plague the Republic. The side he serves condemns slavery and yet he himself and his millions of brothers are a slaves. He is a tool for war yet trying to bring peace. He fights to end the war and yet the Republic refuses to open peace talks.

He’d be the closest to Kaladin, in terms of practically everything; Cody is a child of Honor.

Cody knows how the universe works so he settles on his own code of honor. He will protect those who cannot protect themselves, regardless of his personal feelings toward them. He knows he can’t save everyone, but what’s most important is that he try. Somebody needs to.

Padme Amidala:

Like Rex, Padme would be well-suited to the bondsmiths. She aims to unite instead of divide. But given her role in TCW, however, and her role as the one who steps up to call out people and be the one to spend her life trying to better society, Padme is an elsecaller.

She’s a diplomat at heart, individualistic and esoteric. Padme follows her own logic and goes out on the front line when she deems it necessary. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what Anakin or the Jedi or the Republic says, Padme abides by her own moral compass and what makes sense to her.

“...the Elsecallers were prodigiously benevolent, allowing others as auxiliary to their visits and interactions; though they never did relinquish their place as prime liaisons with the great ones of the spren…”

She is a senator who creates connections between peoples.

Queen Padme Amidala and Queen Jasnah Kholin, while having a lot of political differences and different approaches to warfare, would get along famously.

Padme contributes to the war effort by soulcasting food, medicine, and other necessary materials.

Anakin Skywalker:

Here’s where things get complicated.

If we’re going purely by plot, then Anakin is a skybreaker since that is one of the only orders that suit his personality which would still allow him to “fall to the dark side” while maintaining his oaths.

Also, I’m not going to slide past it. My URL is anakin-skybreaker for fuck’s sake. It would be a crime against nature for a man named Skywalker not to have gravitation manipulation like come on, he was born to fly.

It’s just too good, too fitting. I can also see Anakin saying some variant of Kaladin’s line in Words of Radiance, but during a version of the Rako Hardeen arc. “You sent him to the sky to die, assassin, but the sky and winds are mine. I claim them, as I now claim your life.” Though entirely separate, the two have roughly the same amount of melodramatic entrances.

On the other hand, if we’re going for what’s best for Anakin as a person then he’d be either a windrunner or a dustbringer (releaser). The Fourth windrunner ideal says more than I ever could. “I accept that there will be those I cannot save.” Anakin is fueled by ambition so there’s no way he wouldn’t make it to the fourth ideal and then be forced to come to terms with himself and his fears or risk stagnation (or worse breaking his oaths and killing his spren).

As a dustbringer, Anakin would be taught how to control and channel his destructive/violent impulses. Dustbringers get a bad reputation because of their capabilities for mass destruction and because of that shared prejudice, I feel that might help Anakin settle in even quicker than he would in the other orders. Like if he were a windrunner, Anakin would be forced to confront aspects of his personality and truly learn restrain and responsibility.

“Most Dustbringers were tinkers who liked to take things apart to see how they work.”

Dustbringer spren canonically love to break stuff. So, Anakin making friends with a spren that wants him to break stuff because it wants to know what’s inside? 10/10

Obi Wan Kenobi:

A lightweaver in personality and a windrunner in mentality.

It hardly needs saying that Obi Wan is an honorable man. It would come to the point where, even as a renowned lightweaver other people would make comments on it. How he’d be better suited to the windrunners, how “I could’ve sworn you bonded an honorspren” and stuff like that.

Lightweaver ideals are tailored towards the individual, but generally follow the pattern of admitting personal truths. Obi Wan has more than a few truths to admit to himself. He and Anakin would be having an argument, only for his liespren to chime in to call him out going, “mm, lies” and forcing the two to actually talk out their feelings.

He would be Grand Spymaster of the Republic. Obi Wan is already known as the Negotiator, so he’d arrive at the palace of a government he needs to win over for the Republic dressed to the nines, positively glowing, standing at imposing six foot five, where underneath the lightweaving he’s going on three hours of sleep, is wearing yesterday’s clothes, and hasn’t combed his hair in three days.

He’s a lightweaver, but for the life of me I cannot get the image of Windrunner Obi Wan vs. Skybreaker Anakin, battle of Mustafar style, out of my head because the concept of them both being able to control gravity while representing opposite ideologies slaps okay?

Plus, Obi Wan would look immaculate in Kholin blue.

Anakin being busy blowing stuff up, turning canons to dust while Ahsoka skates past him as if solid ground were made of ice cutting through squads of droids while Obi Wan wears the face of the enemy leader and convinces them to surrender? 20/10

Maul:

This one is a lightweaver too and for the same reasons as Obi Wan.

He’s a charismatic bastard and he’d used his abilities to their maximum destructive potential. Just like in Clone Wars, he’d topple governments and overtake civilizations from the inside out.

Lightweavers are not bound by honor so Maul can pretty much do what he wants so long as he’s able to admit truths about himself. Whether he’s successful in doing so remains to be seen.

An important sidenote, Maul has Nightblood.

Maul would have Nightblood and everybody would be in danger.

#ahsoka tano #captain rex #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #maul #darth maul #tcw #the clone wars #star wars #stormlight archive #radiants

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demonic-ungaikyo-dragon · 4 years

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FR CONSPIRACY:

EMPERORS

Ok, do yall remember emperors? Well i have been thinking lately and i think something is off.

My first point is, i dont think the shade is 100% behind this. I mean sure, the shade does manipulate emperors, but it does not say it made them. (And if it does say im sorry.) I think the lightweaver did plan something, and tried making emperors to be controlable.

Let me explain.

Dont you remember when the lightweaver said imperials were mistakes? I think she secretely thinks that the emperors did not come out as planned. The shade took control, and she knew she screwed up. Yes they are mistakes, because they didnt obey her. They obeyed the shade, and she is know acting like its all the shades fault.

Another point is pearlcatchers. If lightweaver made imperials and turned into emperors, why cant pearlcatchers? If she made them, surely she could make them become strong weapons upon death. And besides, maybe she made pearlcatchers like this because she is hiding her tracks, . I mean, she may be using the excuse as 'oh, i messed up the first time so i got better the second time'. This leads to my third point.

the third is, the lightweaver is putting the blame on the shade to hide. I mean, yeah, the shade IS evil, but it is also strong. If it can make imperial emperors, than surely they could make emperors on all breeds. Tundra emperors, gaoler emperors, etc etc. So why? Why just imperials?

To end things off, i think the lightweaver is very sus, and i mean it. Why is the most 'kindest' flight filled with snobs and undead monstrosities? And why is the shade always on fault with emperors?

Again, they are mistakes, only because they dont follow her anymore.

#flight rising #fr lore #fr conspiracy #fr emperor #fr lightweaver #lightweaver #and dont deny #the light momma was very sus #even if im wrong #i know something is off #and i dont want to believe its bad writing

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onlycosmere · 2 years

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The Liar of Partinel

Brandon Sanderson: In this world, there are two competing ecologies. There's something we call "fain," and something we call "trune." And in this region, humankind, they basically can't live in the fain ecology. There's something called skullmoss that grows over everything and changes the plants; they become poisonous. And the animal flesh, humans can't survive on. We are in a city that is surrounded entirely by fain life. It's grown around, and there's a ring around the city; no one knows why it hasn't taken over the city.

And into this comes Midius, an apprentice Lightweaver who has been tasked with helping the people of this city by a mysterious mentor figure that you're not gonna find out about, but there will be some little clues. And he is brand new at this, barely knows what he's doing, and has been tasked with figuring out the mystery and trying to save the city before it falls to the fain.

He has entered the city, shown off some of his powers, had a different response from what he expected, and now he's found kind of a home in basically a soup kitchen for the poor that is run... they're the people who let him in.

This is from The Liar of Partinel.

"I want an opportunity to perform a story for these peoples," Midius said.

<Razal> snorted. "Like you performed for the king with that dragon today?"

Midius frowned. They stood in the kitchen, amidst <Razal's> bubbling pots, <Kale> dutifully stirring one to the left. The man hadn't needed to be asked. Already the room was beginning to fill with unemployed people. They sat, staring at their tables, waiting to be fed.

"How do you know about the dragon?" Midius asked.

<Razal> dumped a handful of spices into one of the pots. "It's all over the city, Jesk. I think it was incredibly poor taste to make the image eat an illusionary soldier."

"I did nothing of the sort."

"But you did create an illusion of a monster."

"Yes," Midius admitted."

"And now you want me to let you do something similar in here?"

"Nothing so drastic," Midius promised, "just a simple story."

"Why? I thought you were here to save the city or something."

"I'm working on that," Midius said. "In the meantime, I'd like to tell a story. I think it might help these men, lift their burdens.

<Razal> stopped pouring spices. She folded her arms, looking up at Midius. "Look, Lightweaver," she said, "you think your lies are gonna make these men happy? You think you can feed their children with a story? The Jesks failed us. Your master: he failed us."

"Wait, when was this?"

"Before," <Razal> said, waving a hand. "When <Torag> took control form Theus's father. The Jesks tried to placate the people, tried to tell them that a new age was coming. They spoke of art and beauty. And you know what? Their king couldn't feed us. People starved by the hundreds. Why do you think we turned to Theus?"

Midius's frown deepened. He knew the story, the history, differently. <Torag> had killed Theus's father, true, but it hadn't been the Jesks' influence that had caused the problems during <Torag's> single, tumultuous year of rule. It'd been the lack of alliances, poor trade instincts, and general unsettlement in the city.

And yet, the Jesks had supported him. And that was part of the reason Theus had exiled them. Still, <Razal's> version was skewed. Or perhaps Midius's was. His master had taught him the past was very difficult to pin down. "As fluid as river waters," he'd called history. "What paints on a tapestry, mixing and melding in liquid form, creating images and scents that never remained stable.

"<Razal>," Midius said, "you suffer the philosophers, even though I can tell you think their talk is frivolous. Well, even if you see my stories as frivolous, I ask you to let me tell them."

"Bah. You're as bad as that godspeaker, always pume to do things. Fine. Tell your story. But only after you serve food during the big eating rush."

"Very well," Midius said, "though I do wonder why we even do it this way. Wouldn't it be faster to have the men line up and pass through to get their soup?"

"These men spend all day waiting in line, Jesk," she said. "They wait for hours, standing in the sun and hoping to be one of the few that gets a chance to work. I don't intend to make them wait here, too. Get to work."

Midius took a stack of bowls and moved over to <Kale's> cauldron, filling two of them. "You're good at getting what you want, Jesk," the soldier said. Midius shrugged. "I would have thought that you'd be poor at that, after living so long alone in the forest."

"I wasn't alone in the forest," Midius said, taking the bowls and turning. "I had my master." Wasn't really an answer. But Midius didn't feel like giving the real answer. He'd always been good at making things he wanted happen. It was just the way that life was. The world worked as he wanted. Save for the notable exceptions.

Midius didn't let him indwell on that, however. He'd mourned over his master's death enough.

He moved about, delivering bowls of food to the men. Even after only one day in the kitchen, the work became rote to him. That left him to think and consider, trying to decide the best story for the situation. His opportunity came soon, the tide of hungry men slowing. Midius approached <Razal>, setting down an empty bowl, and met her eyes. Behind him, the sounds of dozens of wooden spoons scraping ceramic bowls echoed in the chamber.

<Razal> turned away and waved an indifferent hand. So Midius turned and felt the increasingly familiar flutter in his chest. He grimaced. A man who had killed as many shouldn't feel such nervousness. And yet, there it was. Perhaps a sign that he was more human than he'd often give himself credit.

"I've tried speaking about history," he announced to the room, "and I was ignored." Some of the eating men paused, glancing at him. It was easy to make his voice carry with so few people talking. "I've tried showing a monster. But I got the wrong reaction from that. I've caused enough fear in my life, and I did not come to Partinel to bring more."

Midius put his hand up to the side and dropped a handful of dust. He wove the light into an image of a beautiful blonde woman wearing a blue crown. "So," Midius said, sitting back on a stool, "today, I'll try a romance."

Many of the men perked up at the appearance, though not a few muttered instead. "I honestly don't know a lot about romance, myself," Midius said, tossing a handful of dust to the other side, weaving the light into the image of a princely man with a copper crown. "But then, neither have I ever met a dragon. But I can craft one from light well enough. Besides, I do know one thing. When it comes to romance, women are fickle, but men are fools."

He smiled to the audience. Most of them watched him. However, they didn't respond as his master had indicated. When he called women fickle, he expected grunts of assent. And when he called men fools, his intonation should have garnered a few chuckles. He got neither.

Midius moved on, throwing a handful of dust behind himself, weaving the light and blocking the sight of <Razal> and her pots, instead creating an image of a richly decorated room, complete with a bronze-rimmed looking glass and deeply dyed rugs.

"Now, this was a time before the coming of the fain," Midius said. "Many of my stories are from that time. It does us good to remember that our lives were once more than they are, now. <Lily> was known in seven cities as the most beautiful to be born in some hundred years' time. Wives spoke of her when they washed clothing in rivers. Laborers passed news while they cut wheat in the field. Even children knew of <Lily>.

"Eventually, news reached Prince <Helius>, heir to the throne of Lion's Hill. Now, <Helius> was not a vain man, nor was he particularly demanding. He was, however, an inquisitive man. This news troubled him. What would the most beautiful woman in the world look like? How would she dress? What color were her eyes? How would she keep her hair? He asked after these things, but no one could give him a detailed answer."

Another handful of dust produced a group of scribes and scholars speaking with <Helius>, who stood to his left. <Lily>, however, continued to comb her hair in the room to his right, looking into her mirror. It was a challenging illusion, and Midius felt himself being drawn into the image, transfixed by it. He found it hard to pay attention to the audience as he continued to speak.

"<Helius> determined that he would have to discover <Lily's> beauty for himself. Though his father, the king, objected, <Helius> left that day to ride for <Nanhell>, the fair woman's reported home." <Helius's> room dissolved in a shimmer, transforming into an image of a prince riding on horseback. Even focused on the illusion as he was, Midius could hear cries of surprise from the men at the tables as they saw the prince riding atop a full-sized horse.

The illusion remained steady, the horse staying in place despite its galloping, and Midius carefully added the faint sound of hoofbeats. "<Helius's> road was long and hard," he continued, giving a slight image of rainfall to the illusion washing over the prince. "And as he approached the city, <Helius> began to encounter crowds and large troops of men. He was not the only one who had come to see <Lily's> beauty. Indeed, from the processions he soon began to pass, he wasn't even the only prince who had come. Though he certainly was the most poor and the most humble. He hadn't even brought a single manservant. His only companion was his trusted and aged bodyguard.

"What's more, so many had come to see this princess that they crowded in tents along the walls outside. Every inn in the city was completely full. But Prince <Helius> was clever as well as inquisitive. He found an empty nook on the street, and there he began erecting a fine, extensive tent. The beggars who lived there were surprised to see one so rich pitching there, but the prince did not acknowledge them, instead chatting with his bodyguard and making up a story about how this street was the perfect location to view the princess when she went on her secret morning rides.

"Within a few hours, news had spread, and all imaginable kinds of people had crowded the streets to stake a claim on space. <Helius> retreated to an inn and was able to get a room from one of those who had left in order to sleep on the street.

"As his faithful bodyguard bedded down down on the floor, <Helius> sat by the window, pondering. Then he spotted an old woman walking among those in the street, saying something that seemed to make people there angry. Her attitude intrigued <Helius>, and he sent his guard out to fetch the old woman."

Midius threw out dust in front of him, creating the image of the old woman. He was completely engrossed in his own telling, prepared to move on to the old woman's warning that Princess <Lily> was cursed. As he began this part, however, the illusion wavered, <Razal> cautiously poking through, causing a shimmering of sparking dust to fall to the ground and shattering the back of <Helius's> room.

Midius blinked, bought out of his own story enough to again become aware of the audience. Many of the men were muttering loudly, and some had left the room, leaving their soup behind. Midius shook his head, coming conscious again, his illusion disintegrating. People, objects, rooms, melting down into bits of dust.

"You've had your chance, Jesk," <Razal> snapped. "Stop frightening these men away."

"But the story..."

"They don't care about your story, Jesk. Lies and fain illusions; what good are they?"

"Fain illusions? You think what I do is fain?"

"Well, it's not natural, I'll say that."

Midius looked around, sensing the hostility in the faces of the watching men. Embarrassed, he stood, last of the illusions exploding into dust behind him. Then he rushed from the room, moving to his chambers. Once there, he threw a handful of dust against the wall, summoning his master's figure. Midius's room was dim, since he'd brought no candle. But yet the ancient Lightweaver formed from the dust, sitting on Midius's bed.

"You lied to me," Midius said.

"Well, I am a liar," the master said. "So are you."

"We don't lie about important things."

"All of our lies are important, you know that."

Midius turned away. "They were supposed to welcome my stories. How often do you mention the joy that men finding in storytelling? How often do you talk of lies and their power to bring emotion? They're supposed to love me, not revile me."

"Is that why you're here, Midius? To find love?"

Midius glanced at his master. "So I should stop? Focus only on the Corrupted?"

"Ah, lad. Saving Partinel involves so much more than simply stopping the Corrupted. These people, they live, but they no longer remember why. They eat with dull stares. They work the fields without laughter. They return home to their families worried and frightened that they'll get sick, or that they will lose a child to the Year of Sacrifice, or that the trune ring will finally collapse and leave them all without a home."

"There is little I can do about that."

"You can remind them that there is more to life than pain, fear, and sorrow. That's the true calling of a Jesk. You look to give them stories that have meaning, but the most important meaning of your lies has nothing to do with a moral. It has to do with the way that it makes people feel, not the way that it makes them think."

"They don't want to feel. If they can't see how it'll feed them or bring them wealth, they don't want it. They revile it and call it superstition or foolishness. They care nothing for what I offer."

"No," his master said. "They do care. But they're afraid. Midius, this thing that you do, this is a noble and grand work. When you tell a story, you make men see through the eyes of someone whom they've never known. When they hear the tale of a widow's pain, for a moment they are that widow. When they hear a child's play, they remember what it was to be a child themselves. When they see a hero win, for a short time they succeed, as well. They may have forgotten what this means, but that is part of being human. Your duty, then, is merely to remind them."

#the liar of partinel #cosmere #hoid #cfsbf #brandon sanderson #root #wob #kind of #long post

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velkynkarma · 4 years

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So I’m suuuper late to the party, but I finally, finally finished Rhythm of War.

I am delighted by it. Thoughts and reactions under the cut, just in case for spoilers.

OKAY SO I had a lot of feelings about this book, and I wanted to be able to sit down and read the book properly and devote time to it, instead of sneaking paragraphs here or there during work breaks. So that’s why it took me so long to read it. In a way I feel like a terrible fan for taking so long when I was so excited about reading it for over a year, but in another way I am satisfied that I did it justice.

General thoughts/reactions:

I am legitimately impressed with how well Sanderson handled Shallan’s Dissociative Identity Disorder. DID is one of those mental illnesses that gets butchered so hard in media, and carries such a stigma of being “evil” or “creepy.” But Shallan’s representation seems much more factual in terms of how we know DID works today, including but not limited to:

Created from a severe trauma at a very young age, in which the brain starts splitting itself in order to protect against traumas and form survival mechanisms

Alters exist to protect the system and handle tasks for the host that the host cannot handle. Both Veil and Radiant handle tasks/functions that Shallan can’t

Also establishing that different alters can have different skills (such as Shallan being good at drawing and Lightweaving while Veil is bad at it, or Radiant handling espionage poorly)

Establishing that actual DID treatments do include encouraging alters to learn to work together and establish communication lines between each other. I like that the three create a pact to work together and rules to stand by and enforce them on each other to the best of their ability. They mess up sometimes (Radiant killing Ialai, Veil forcibly taking over sometimes). But they try.

But also establishing that prior to Shallan’s realization of what was happening at the end of Oathbringer, each of these alters had their own memories and ways of handling things and did not necessarily communicate with each other

Establishing that multiple times in prior books when Shallan thought she was ‘acting’ she was actually Blending with another identity, either Veil or Radiant. This becomes more apparent when Veil or Radiant actively discuss being the ones to do things that were previously from “Shallan’s” perspective (such as Veil learning slight of hand/etc at the beginning of Words of Radiance). This stuck out to me as especially interesting since accounts of people with DID often mention not knowing they have it or are switching for years, but being semi-aware of doing things differently than normal.

Veil being a protector-type alter and a trauma holder is extraordinarily common in DID cases and made an absolute ton of sense. It also suggests that she’s been around for YEARS longer than before Shallan ‘created’ her which, again, is not uncommon with DID cases

Veil, at least, also acts like she’s much older than Shallan, even calling her things like ‘kid.’ While Veil is, of course, no older than Shallan, this is completely accurate that alters can have different ages and even different genders to the host body in terms of how they perceive themselves

Establishing that fusions/integrations are possible, with Veil being ‘absorbed’ by Shallan at the end. This is a part of DID treatment and I like that it was handled in a way where both alters consented and the trauma was released, but it was handled. Even if Veil developed additional skills over time, it’s clear her first and foremost job was as a trauma holder alter, and once the trauma was no longer being hidden, her ‘purpose’ was done. And now Veil is a part of Shallan, and the expectation is that somewhere down the line, Radiant will join too.

Very very VERY VERY importantly, establishing Shallan’s interaction with other characters as a system with DID in a way that did not make her look like she was ‘crazy.’ DID is super serious and systems are often stigmatized. But I adored that Adolin is supportive and treats each alter on their own playing field (and even seems to be able to recognize them without Shallan changing hair color). I love that other characters like Kaladin admit they don’t exactly get it, but do their best to be respectful of it anyway. I love that nobody treats Shallan like a freak and sticks her in a padded room, and that people DO respect her wishes and treat Veil and Radiant as equally viable people. I love that it’s treated so healthily.

Honestly my only real ‘hmm, not exactly like that’ moments were thinking back on how Shallan ‘created’ personalities. Veil being a trauma holder for Shallan’s old memories implies she’s been around for a long time, so she wasn’t really “created” in that sense, just given more of a face/name. But Radiant appears to have been created spur of the moment when Adolin was all ‘hey, let me teach you to swordfight!!!’ To the best of my knowledge people with DID don’t really have control over when they split, nor do they really get to actively ‘design’ their alters. It’s more like alters form as needed to handle something. But considering how accurate everything else is, and that possibly this is just Shallan’s way of handling her splitting in a way that makes sense to her, I’m willing to give this a cautious pass.

Also maybe lost memory moments. People with DID generally can lose time. Shallan doesn’t seem to, but then towards the end we also see she’s not a reliable narrator in her own right, since somehow Radiant managed to kill Ialai when we’re reading that passage. So it’s possible we the readers are missing things because Shallan is, too.

That said, the way DID works, it will never really go away even if Shallan does fully integrate. I’m curious if more alters could form down the line. I thought this had been happening with ‘Formless,’ but Formless didn’t turn out to be another alter so much. Oh well.

I had wondered about Shallan and Pattern’s bond for a while, and I’d been wondering if maybe she had a different spren ever since Pattern mentioned he could go away or she might kill him too back in...Oathbringer, I think it was? It seemed strange to me that Shallan wouldn’t have seen him around for a long time in his pattern form, or that she’d get chased by so many cryptics in book 1, if she’d been bonded to him this whole time. Or that she had a shardblade she could summon in book 1, but Pattern hadn’t been established as a character yet. And then when Adolin met a deadeye Cryptic in Shadesmar, I was like, ‘damn, that’s Shallan’s first spren isn’t it.’ And I was vindicated. I feel stupidly proud of myself for catching even one of Sanderson’s twists.

I think this is the first book in the series where Kaladin’s arc didn’t really grab me as much as the others to start. Not that it was bad, I still really enjoyed it, especially towards the end. But I was surprised to find when I got to Part Three and Kaladin’s name was listed but Adolin’s wasn’t that I went, ‘awww, damn,’ and used that as my break point for the night.

I think part of this is that so much of Kaladin’s story that I love and adore is about not just Kaladin, but Kaladin’s friends and found family arcs with Bridge Four, and so much of that was taken away from him in the early part of the story. Like Kaladin, I guess I was just sad about everyone moving on and him being along. Sigzil going off to be the new Windrunner leader, Rock leaving, Rlain leaving (for a while at least), Adolin and Shallan leaving...it was hard. I felt his depression. Unfortunately, it made it a bit difficult to read, I guess.

On the flip side though, Kaladin’s ending arc in the story was A+ and I loved it. I love that his Fourth Ideal is specifically accepting that he cannot save everyone, which is something he’s struggled with from his very first appearance in the very first book. I love how this sheds so much light on that moment in Oathbringer where Syl is calling for him to speak the words and he just can’t, because at the time, he wasn’t ready to accept that he couldn’t save everyone. I love that he admits to Dalinar that he really did need help and a chance to recover, and that his setup for the next book doesn’t seem to be as Stormblessed, the soldier, but as a healer. And I love that he made up with his dad in the end, and did manage to at least save him.

ROCK. NOOOO.

TEFT. NOOOOOO!

And yet as always, Sanderson books are the only books where I really feel...ok with character death. It’s sad, for sure, but also deaths have purpose in his stories. Nobody is killed meaninglessly.

I think my favorite arc was Adolin’s, throughout the whole course of the book? I can’t help it. I love my enthusiastic, optimistic himbo who is just doing his best. Every time he was like ‘well I’m useless since I’m not a Radiant, but I’ll do the best I can’ I was like NO, HONEY NO, YOU’RE SO IMPORTANT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW IMPORTANT YOU ARE REALLY? Look at all the people you help!!! Just look at them all!!!

As stated earlier, I love that he’s just so damned supportive of Shallan’s condition. Even if they don’t have words for ‘DID’ in Roshar or even understand it in their own terms, he’s just so damn supportive. She tells him she’s got multiple alters and he’s just like ‘cool, how can I help.’ He loves his wife. He’s friendly with Radiant. He’ll share jabs with Veil. He just wants to help, always.

I love that he’s so supportive of Kaladin too. I adored towards the beginning, where Kaladin’s going into a depressive spiral, and Syl gets Adolin because Adolin is one of the few people he can’t intimidate. And I adore that Adolin is supportive, but in a way that shows he gets it. He knows it’s not safe to leave Kaladin alone with himself and refuses to let that happen. But he also doesn’t force him to participate and acknowledges that yeah, you can feel like shit, and that’s ok, but you’re gonna feel like shit around other people, because it’ll help you. And it does. And I love that a thousand pages later Kaladin starts going into another depressive spiral and happens to mention, ‘fuck, Adolin’s not here to pull me out this time,’ recognizing what Adolin can do. I just love how much their friendship has progressed.

I love that he’s still so supportive of his brother, even if Renarin was barely in this book. I love that he even briefly defends Renarin against Shallan, even when he recognizes she doesn’t really mean any harm.

I adore his continued arc with Maya. I love that he was so excited to go to Shadesmar so he could see her again. I love how he’s clearly had offers from spren or other Radiants to talk to spren about bonding to him, and he’s like, ‘nah,’ cause he’s loyal to her. I love how everyone keeps insisting ‘deadeyes can’t speak, deadeyes can’t feel’ and he’s just like, yes?? Yes they can??? Have you ever fucking tried??? I love that it’s his genuine connection to Maya that helps her recover enough to actually talk on her own with more clarity, and how she’s clearly coming back to herself. And what a revelation, that Maya and the others deliberately sacrificed themselves. And I love that ultimately it’s his bond with Maya that gives him success with the honorspren. He did this his own way, with his own skills, in a unique way that nobody else has ever done before, because maybe he’s not a Radiant in the shiny new sense of the word, but he’s the only person out there willing to treat his sword like a partner and show kindness to spren and that shows.

I also really do hope he works stuff out with his dad because he’s got every right to be angry but also, I want him to be happy :(

Ultimately I adore Adolin’s whole polarity, that he’s a masterful duelist and combatant, and has probably killed hundreds, and yet his best quality is his sheer kindness. He has really grown on me as a character since book one, honestly. I remember not liking him in book one. I still don’t, when I reread it! But in the rest, he’s probably second only to Kaladin as my favorite.

Venli. I remember not really liking Venli in earlier books. I thought Eshonai was cool, but Venli I remember just not really vibing with. Seeing her story really made her a lot more interesting to me though, especially since I love her whole gradual growth as a character. Openly admitting to herself that she’s a coward and just wanted to get attention against her sister...and then doing something about it to better herself. Doubting her abilities to do so and being uneasy about it the whole time, but ultimately doing it anyway. She’s a flawed character, but she’s a good character, and I grew to like her so much more after seeing her story.

Also, I loved Eshonai’s mercy at the end there. Fuckin yes. Bittersweet smiles all around.

Szeth-son-son-Vallano wore white on the day he was to kill a king, because apparently white is the listener battle color, it makes SENSE now

I am also veeery curious what is going on with Szeth, who wasn’t really in this book all that much. And I’m curious if ‘Sixteen’ in Lasting Integrity is actually his dad, because they sure drew attention to a hiding Shin man and then immediately never mentioned him again.

Raboniel. MAN. What a fucking character. I was fascinated with her from the beginning. I never knew exactly what to think of her, because we see her from so many perspectives. Leshwi, who has been established as possibly the ‘goodest’ and most sane of the Fused, openly tells us not to trust her. We learn she’s done terrible things in her lifetime, like trying to create a plague to destroy all of humanity, and one of her titles is just straight-up scary af. She learns how to really, truly, actually kill spren, which is terrifying. She tried to kill the Sibling, which is obviously Super Bad. And yet, she’s such a compelling character. She’s polite and reasonable, to a degree. Clever and enormously genre-savvy, but also blunt and to the point, knowing full well Venli is being used to spy on her and Navani is working against her and blatantly stating so. She’s so intelligent, and is willing to both respect Navani and work with her to create things together, and recognize her worth. I never fully trusted her at any point, because we know she’s done so much to be scared of, but man, I enjoyed reading her segments so freaking much. I was sad when she died, and her weird frenemy relationship with Navani was really intriguing.

I really enjoyed Dabbid’s little segments. I’m so happy he’s comfortable talking around the others. I’m also happy to see Sanderson delving into including more autistic characters in different points on the spectrum, while also showing other people treating them well.

Taravangian. I still don’t know where to stand on this guy and I’m very nervous now that he’s basically a god and apparently smart enough to outwit everyone else again. I was excited when he actually managed to kill Rayse but fuck, we might have been better off with Rayse.

SOMEBODY ACTUALLY MANAGAGED TO OUTWIT HOID AND I’M SCARED AF AT WHAT THAT MEANS

Moash. I just. Fuck. I don’t even know. I’m not even sure if this counts as him killing under his own power or not. He doesn’t really want to take responsibility for his actions, and as long as Odium takes his pain and feelings, he doesn’t have to. But that moment when he wasn’t protected, he seemed upset with what he had done. So I really have no damned clue where his story is gonna go. But fuck, it’s scary how easily he almost undid Kaladin completely. He knew exactly what buttons to press. We’re lucky the Pursuer ignored him and attacked anyway, or he really would’ve won.

I’ll admit, my Cosmere knowledge is less than stellar, so I’m still not entirely sure I understand the stuff with the Heralds and Mraize. But I am definitely curious to see where it’s going on a surface level, at least.

LIFT USES LIFELIGHT that explains a lot. I wish she’d been in this story more because I adore her lol.

I know Sanderson announced Ace Jasnah a while back, but I love that it’s been so firmly established in the book itself. No beating around the bush or leaving people to wonder. She just straight-up says she’s got no real interest in sexual stuff and never really got how it drove others. I love it. I love seeing that so honestly and bluntly stated.

Anyway I’m sure there’s a lot more to be said but overall, A++++ as always, super adored, next one when????

#Velkynkarma rambles #Stormlight Archive #Rhythm of War spoilers

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preservationandruin · 4 years

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Rhythm of War Liveblog, Part One Part Four (Chapters 12-15)

Onward! I feel like these posts are pretty long and don’t cover a lot, but then i remember that a lot of Part One every time is setting up what’s happening, and this one in particular we have an entire year’s worth of stuff to fill in, so I guess it’s warranted.

Kaladin hangs out with friends against his will, I remember that Adolin is a Horse Girl, Mraize talks about the interplanetary economy, Teleporting Fucker is a Legendarily Sore Loser, I have high hopes for spren necromancy, and Kaladin asks Zahel for advice.

We’re back to Kaladin, who is...not having a good time. He feels like he has to appear strong for Syl and the others, and not to let his problems affect them; he’s also hit hard by the feeling that Bridge Four is something that was in the past, not something that’s consistent and now.

“Hey,” Leyten said as they reached the tower entrance. “Rock! Got any stew for us maybe? For old times’ sake?” Kalaidn turned. The word “stew” pierced the cloud.

Rock can’t, he’s busy, and Kaladin goes to his rooms--which are sparse and empty, even though he has pretty good accommodations--and tries to self-isolate, which...mood. He starts going into what seems like a panic attack (paralyzed, curling into the fetal position, thoughts spiralling to what Moash was talking about) when the door is near-literally kicked down by Adolin and Syl.

(will i use this every time Adolin does things? probably)

Adolin manages to drag Kaladin out of his room, in what is--honestly--a pretty good way to do it for someone who is depressed--he makes the point that Kaladin doesn’t have to be happy, he doesn’t have to pretend to be happy, but he should be miserable around other people. And he does it in just...a very Adolin way:

“You spend too many evenings alone, bridgeboy,” Adolin said, glancing at the nearby exhaustionspren, then grabbing Kaladin by the arm--something few other people would have dared. “I like being by myself,” Kaladin said. “Great. Sounds awful. Today, you’re coming with me. No more excuses. I let you blow me away last week and the week before.”

I love that “blow me away” is Roshar-slang for “blow me off”

Kaladin tries to lash out and say maybe he just doesn’t like being around Adolin, Adolin dares him to say, with an oath, that he should be alone right now--and Kaladin can’t, because--of course--Kaladin shouldn’t be alone right now.

“Ha,” Adolin said, tugging him along by the arm. “Come on, Brightlord Master Highmarshal Stormface. Change your coat to one that doesn’t smell like smoke, then come with me. You don’t have to smile. You don’t have to talk. But if you’re going to be miserable, you might as well do it with friends.”

This is so good. I think on some level when you self-isolate, what people want (or at least, what I want) is to have someone willing and able to drag you out of it despite the fact that you don’t want to be around people--and I’m so glad that Adolin is that person.

Kaladin demands to know why Syl got Adolin of all people, despite that scene literally showing why Adolin was the perfect person to bring, and Syl responds that she needed someone Kaladin couldn’t intimidate...and, in the end, Kaladin ends up thanking her.

And then we go to Adolin’s favorite bar, where Veil is waiting, where the gang just start hanging out--and Adolin and Veil start talking about trying to set Kaladin up with someone. This is about the moment where I crowed in victory, because while I didn’t see this specifically coming up, Adolin and Veil being drinking buddies who are a) overly-invested in Kaladin’s love life and b) end up talking about attractive people together IS something I called at the end of Oathbringer. Bi Disaster Drinking Club lives.

(Casper, Adolin isn’t confirmed bi-- Listen. listen. give me this.)

“Oh, don’t be sour,” Veil said, smacking [Kaladin] on the shoulder. “You didn’t even glance at her. She’s cute. Look at those legs. Back me up, Adolin.”

I love all the Veil and Adolin banter we get here, because it only gets better--Veil asking for details of one of Adolin’s past relationships, Adolin trying to get out of it, Kaladin getting to enjoy time with his friends even when (maybe especially when) those friends are ridiculous. And then we also get another good moment of Adolin and Kaladin friendship when Veil goes off to gamble--Adolin asks Kaladin for advice for how to help Shallan with her own issues, but the advice Kaladin gives is also good advice for dealing with Kaladin, which Adolin knows and did on purpose. Kaladin asks why Adolin hasn’t become a Radiant yet, to which Adolin says that he’s not a good fit, he guesses--but the real reason, of course, is that Adolin refuses to give up Mayalaran.

Listen--by not giving up Mayalaran, Adolin is proving himself the Edgedancer she deserves and I will die on this hill.

And then things go back to being sad, because Rock is leaving--going back to his people to recieve judgement for breaking their rules by killing Amaram. He says he probably won’t be returning and hugs Kaladin, who gives him a few other members of Bridge Four as an escort--some of his kids, including Cord--the Shardbearer--stay in Urithiru.

I deeply suspect this will not be the last we see of Rock, because there’s no way in hell, but it was both touching and really sad at the same time.

We move back to Shallan the next morning, going through her day while Adolin is out horseriding; I can’t believe I nearly forgot Adolin is a Horse Girl, despite literally everything about Adolin being prime horse girl. Shallan gets a message about a spren coming to negotiate--probably one of Sja-anat’s spren--and she visits her brothers as well, sketching by their fire.

We get that she’s researched DID--or, the Rosharan understanding of DID--and the results haven’t been heartening, with people who have DID mostly being objectified and ridiculed. It also notes that memory loss is a common symptom, which Shallan notes she doesn’t really experience.

Mraize shows up at her brothers’ house, both as a threat--his cover is an older soldier who is known to be clumsy and could, in theory, injure someone around him--and to talk to Shallan. We get more of the goals of the Ghostbloods--they’re trying to set up an Investiture trade across the Cosmere. Which is actually super smart--investiture is pretty easy to come by on Roshar, which is the entire reason Vasher/Zahel is there. I can see Nalthis in particular loving a way to sustain their gods that, uh, doesn’t involve sucking out souls.

Mraize also basically confirms his mole is a lightweaver, which...I’m really hoping this isn’t the case, but I’m starting to suspect the mole is perhaps Formless, or a similar Alter of Shallan’s. She’s had some weird logic gaps that she doesn’t understand, and we just got the mention of alters maybe not able to remember what each other are doing.

Now, I really hope that’s not the case, because that’s a tired old trope with DID--the evil alter ego. It’s really tired and awful for people who have DID, so I hope that’s not the twist here.

Anyway, Mraize gives her her next job, which is going to find Restares--who is in the honorspren citadel of Lasting Integrity. Mraize says when she meets Restares, she’ll know what to do, and that once she completes that, she’ll get all the answers she could want from the Ghostbloods.

We go back to Venli in Kholinar; a new group of Fused are here for bodies, and Leshwi is worried about one of them in particular--one of the fannahn-im, Those of Alteration. We meet the Nine, leaders of the Fused who are in pillars fused to the floor of their chamber, which Venli points out is just dooming the people whose bodies they took to a horrible form of entombment.

Venli can feel Odium watching, which I responded to with “come on motherfucker, 1v1 me.” Listen, I would die, but what a way to go.

The Teleporting Fucker--Lezian the Pursuer--is one of the Nex-im, Those of Husks, who are the Ninth Brand. He doesn’t defer to the Nine and claims Kaladin has to be Fourth Ideal because he “couldn’t be defeated by an ordinary human.” Which is hilarious, because he was. You were defeated by an ordinary human whose powers were blocked. Kaladin is just that good.

Anyway, he claims he now has to go kill Kaladin because his whole deal is that he murders any human who kills him:

“Milennia ago, Lezian was the first Fused to be killed by a human. To avoid the shame of such a death, upon returning to life, Lezian ignored all orders and rational arguments--and went into battle seeking only the man who had killed him.”

So he’s a loose cannon who everyone goes along with because they can’t stop him and because he developed a legend around his stupid decisions? Got it. I’m really amused that this guy’s entire thing is just being Roshar’s Sorest Loser. Anyway, Leshwi disputes his claim and says that she has first dibs on killing Kaladin--Venli notes that Leshwi probably doesn’t even know that she’s trying to protect Kaladin.

Guys, I can’t believe Fused war tactics operate on the dibs system. Also, this feels just like a continuation of my joke that everyone in this series has a type and that type is Kaladin.

Anyway, then we meet the new lady who Leshwi is worried about--Raboniel, the Lady of Wishes. She was one of the Nine but stepped down to become more active; Leshwi talks about how she is a scientist without morals, whose plan the last Desolation was to release a plague that would affect Singers as well as humans and actually did, but fortunately didn’t have as great an effect as she hoped. So now biological warfare is coming onto the table.

Raboniel pushes to seize Urithiru to strike against the humans; she created the anti-powers Fabrial and now wants to reverse the “Sibling’s heart” to nullify radiants in Urithiru, although she notes that Fourth Ideal ones could pull through--and she wants to experiment on the Sibling, who is effectively a deadeye.

This is interesting, because we’ve already seen a deadeye start to respond to people--Mayalaran. Is spren necromancy going to get a day in the sun in this book? Please, please let spren necromancy through the power of friendship be a plot point.

Anyway, Leshwi offers Venli to Raboniel as an aide, while wanting Venli to spy for her on Raboniel’s plans; Venli is happy about being on this strike, because she wants to see if she can find someone who can teach her how to be a Radiant.

We also get this good note from Leshwi, which--to me--calls back the fact that there’s a whole narrative about if war can be honorable happening here:

“Extinction is the natural escalation of this war,” Leshwi whispered. “If you forget why you are fighting, then victory itself becomes the goal. The longer we fight, the more detached we become. Both from our own minds, and from our original Passions.” She hummed softly to abashment.

We get back to Kaladin, who pushed through the worst of his depressive episode (although I would note that this could support the idea that something Odium-y is making it worse; now he’s in the Tower, it’s Regular Depression which he’s better at dealing with). Sigzil has now been put in charge of administration for the Windrunners; Kaladin tried to make it Teft but Teft was like absolutely not, fuck you for suggesting it.

Kaladin goes to find Zahel, wanting to talk to him, and finds him doing laundry; on the way he talks to Rlain, who is overseeing people growing plants by gemlight and music, which is how the listeners used to do it. Rlain gets excited at the mention of an honorspren who will work with him, but when Kaladin explains the situation, he demurs--understandably.

“I will wait for a spren who will bond me for who I am--and for the honor I represent.”

Rlain--in particular Rlain, who knows the experience of being forced into partnerships and jobs you don’t want--doesn’t want a spren who sees him as a burden or something that they don’t want to bond, and that’s completely valid of him.

Anyway, Kaladin finds Zahel hanging up bright scarves in the laundry; Kaladin asks Zahel if he should join the martial ardents as a solution to what he should do next, noting that Zahel “couldn’t give up the sword.”

“Oh, I gave it up. I let go. Best mistake I ever made.”

YEAH, AND NOW YOUR SWORD SON IS TERRORIZING ROSHAR, VASHER.

Well, not terrorizing. Mostly it’s just with Szeth, who is...somewhere around here, probably. Somewhere Zahel is avoiding at all costs bc Nightblood would take one look at him and just start yelling.

Zahel spars with Kaladin, fully exploiting the colored cloth around them and his own style of fighting while talking to Kaladin about why he fights. In the end, he says he can’t sponsor Kaladin--because Kaladin still loves fighting too much for him to really be an ardent. Kaladin also notes that Zahel fights like Azure--Zahel irritably corrects that she fights like him.

God I really want to see Azure and Zahel on the same page. Vasher you can’t run forever.

There’s also a meta discussion; Zahel talks about the different levels of invested beings, and how he’s had to update it from the time in Warbreaker he did the same thing. He notes that for people like him:

“We’re spren masquerading as men. That’s why she takes our memories. She knows we aren’t the actual people who died, but something else given a corpse to inhabit...”

So that’s both interesting and rather somber; “she” in this case is of course Endowment. I’m not entirely sure what to make of this bit, other than that it’s sad and interesting in that it draws a comparison with the Fused, who do a similar thing but instead of taking the shape/personality of the corpse they’re inhabiting, kill it and replace it.

Also, I’m not sure Zahel is right, here, because Lightsong did remember his past as the story went on, and did remember emotional connection to people from his past. So there might be more there than Zahel is giving it credit for.

#row spoilers #row liveblog #the stormlight archive #venli and the long con #ghostblood activity

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luchibelle-throughthecosmere · 4 years

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RoW: chapter 4 and chapter 5

Chapter 4

Shallan’s three personas appear to be in sync and healthy enough despite our worries so I for once will stop worrying until proven wrong.

That said, she has improven so much! Shallan singlehandedly treaked the Sons of Honor three times. First, selling them a modified device that wouldn’t discover her as a Lightweaver. Then, sneaking Red into their ranks. And now she almost had them with that map. Storming woman.

Adolin, sweetheart, why did you blow this up? Shallan and Pattern had it! 😤

So far, Shallan has helped the Ghostbloods because it served to Dalinar and her own purposes. What would she do if she was given an assigment that wouldn’t? And what if it was somehow involved with Wit, who she seems to really care about? *excited*

Ialai was much more cruel than Sadeas and far more willing to spill blood. Her leading the Sons of Honor is a bad idea. A really bad idea. 😨😰😥

Talking about this strange device, what happens to Kaladin’s squires if it’s used on him while on battle? Are they incappable of using stormlight? We need answers. 🧐 *end of SDCC spoilers*

Can we talk about all the new technology they have developped? They literally have a Lightweaver-sensor, we’ve seen the flying platform and *SDCC spoilers* the singers have a strange device that we know of cappable of draining a Radiant of stormlight.

Chapter 5

This chapter was my favourite out of the two for a lot of reasons. Everybody being in awe of the Windrunners forming on the sky is only one if them.

I have a theory on which spren hasn’t bonded yet, to who (Rock) and why. But I want to make a post about it so this is just a hint. You’ll have to wait a little bit longer. 😉

Kal in action is a blessing to the eyes. The windsprens are always following him on the air, specially when he stops thinking and just throws himself to the sky. Just think about the kind of things this sprens could do lead by Syl.

Roshone is a piece of shit but he wins points for worrying about his people. Not that it will do him any good anyways. I want Laral’s POV to know what it was like through her eyes because Kal’s are blinded on this topic.

That quote about not forgetting Roshone or himself for Tien’s death... 😭 PLEEEEASE.

It’s good to see that both Lyn and Kaladin know their relationship was wrong. But what was he thinking about? It seems like he knew why their relationship was wrong but that train of thought passed too quickly and so we were left without answers.

So Ash has been talking to Jasnah. Interesting. Does that mean Jasnah has completly given up on killing the Heralds? I truly hope so.

Dalinar using his powers without engaging on battle. Nice. And he can open a PERPENDICULARITY? What in the storm winds...

The singers give me the chills with their alien-ish looks and they are not my favourite people. But Kaladin finding honor in them helps me deal with their creepiness. Please, keep humanising them until they no longer scare me. Hope that happens soon.

The action sequences are really good. Brandon is so good at writing them. It’s a shame they leave so little to comment about. But they are so enjoyable. So storming much. *hearteyes*

Storms! This ended up being much longer than planned. Sorry!

#rhythm of war spoilers #rhythm of war #spoilers #row spoilers #cosmere #stormlight archive #the stormlight archive #brandon sanderson #shallan davar #kaladin stormblessed #chapter 4 #chapter 5

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fleurdeliszt · 4 years

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lightweaver (seokjin x reader)

absolutely inspired by spin of the dawn, it's a great book y'all should try it sometime!

Rating : T+

Word Count : 9k+

“Rise.”

You rise up from your kneeling position, eyes still fixed on the ground, hardly daring to meet the eyes of the man who had summoned you. The man who is also the Emperor of this country.

“Will you not look at me, seamstress?” His voice is melodic, playful almost, yet the queasy feeling in your gut does not dissipate. Here is a man who had climbed the throne at 14 and managed to keep it, despite all of the scheming that surely surrounded him.

Nothing about him is playful, at least not to you.

“If Your Majesty wishes,” you answer, careful to look once and then quickly away.

Even that short glance at him has you feeling breathless, as you think that the rumors that the Emperor really did descend from the gods must have some substance to them. He did look the part.

“Your Majesty does,” he answers, sounding amused.

You remain quiet even as a blush dusts your cheeks. What did he want? You are nothing, nobody! There was no reason offered to you when you'd been abruptly summoned to the capital, tucked in a caravan surrounded by gruff guards who would not speak anything except to say “The Emperor has ordered us to bring you to the Summer Palace.”

“Your Majesty,” you begin, voice steady and not belying the tremor in your heart, “I'm a humble servant under your reign. What wish do you have of me?”

“Humble servant?” He questions, stroking his chin.

You stare quietly at him, as he paces across the room.

“Humble servant, hmm? Well my humble servant,” here he grins at you, surprisingly boyish, “Will a humble servant of mine keep secrets from me?”

No.

Your mind is racing because there's no way he would know, no way he could know, yet he does, he does--

And he stands now in front of you the boyish grin morphing into something more knowing.

“Would they, seamstress?”

“No, Your Majesty.” Your voice is a whisper. You pray to the storm god to keep your parents and siblings safe, because now that this --- man knows your secret, they will be next.

“So? Do you have secrets of your own, lovely seamstress?” The flattering adjective is like a slap in your face, a mockery, but you manage to keep a straight face.

“We all have secrets, Your Majesty.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You are brave. Or foolish.”

With that, he whips close the fan in his hand. As if issued a silent command, his guards leave the room.

You watch in bewilderment, as you're left alone with the Emperor.

“As you probably know, I haven't been coronated yet.”

You knew. In fact, it was a question that plagued the entirety of the kingdom. Why had the Emperor not been coronated yet?

He was of age, was the legal heir, there were no pesky siblings that claimed the throne, the Empress Dowager had all but retired to the Autumn Palace and never left the place. Which begged the question, what was stopping him?

“My Father,” he speaks these words with no inflection in them, lifeless, “desired that the robe I be coronated with should have the laughter of the sun, the tears of the moon and the blood of stars.”

You can't help it, you laugh.

The Emperor looks at you, amused. Your laughter stops abruptly, even as your heart thump-thumps in your chest erratically.

“You're right to laugh. I laughed too, thinking it a joke. Then I thought it was a metaphor. But then I realized it's true.”

Your brows furrow.

“The Glass Throne will not seat me.”

“What?”

He is the one to laugh this time, sharp and brittle.

“But-” you sputter, “I've heard of stories telling how you passed judgment while seated on the Glass Throne!”

“Tell me, my lady,” the Emperor murmurs, “how many of the common folk have seen the Glass Throne?”

You still. It's true that while you have heard legendary stories about the beauty and splendor of the Glass Throne, you haven't actually seen it.

“I sit on the replica,” he says, a trace of bitterness coloring his voice, “the real throne is kept away, in the Winter Palace.”

“You're the rightful heir,” you say, indignation seeping into your voice, “the throne should respect that.”

The Emperor smiles at you. “You're a kind person, but magic doesn't work like that.”

You turn pink at that, eyes on your feet, wondering why this strange turn of events is happening. What need does the Emperor have you that he has summoned you from the backwaters of a small town?

“I need you to make that robe for me, seamstress.”

“You have a quest!” Your little sister whispers, excited, and your tears stop, even if for a second.

“A quest?” Your brother snarls,”It's a suicide mission!”

“The blood of the stars will be the most difficult,” your grandmother tells you, “you could lose your soul. But fear not, lovely child,” she kisses your forehead, wrapping you in her comforting embrace, “wear this and you'll be safe.”

It's an innocuous pendant, with a red stone that glimmers in the moonlight.

“It will protect you,” she whispers, “from things that wish to harm you.”

“How do you fare, seamstress?”

It's the Emperor, come to visit you in your quarters.

It's a bit improper isn't it, you think, as the moonlight spills through your curtains, but then again he's the Emperor and no rules bind him.

“Very well, Your Majesty,” you bow into a neat curtesy, “I think I might know where to capture the laughter of the sun.”

“Very well, you say?” He moves closer, his intimidating presence almost suffocating you.

His fingers brush lightly across your cheek bones.

“You've lost weight.”

Of course I have, you think savagely, you are the one who gave me an impossible task.

“Do you sleep well?” His fingers draw underneath your eyes.

“No.”

He laughs then, pulling back his fingers. “Oh how you must despise me,” his eyes glitter in the moonlight, “lovely seamstress of mine.”

I'm not yours, you want to retort, but he's right. All of your people are his, to bow to his whims, to do as he wishes.

“Do you know my name?” He asks.

You stare at him mutely. What use do you have for the names of royals?

“It's Seokjin.”

You gasp breathless and throat burning with a thirst that feels like would kill you, but you are triumphant.

For in your hand, captured in a bottle is the laughter of the sun.

“So it's real.” Seokjin's face looks even more radiant in the glow of the sun, and he breaks out into a beautiful smile.

“You're a wonder,” he tells you, gazing at you with such awe, that you blush.

“A miracle,” he whispers.

There's silence for a moment and then -

“You can use magic.”

It shouldn't sound like an accusation, but it does. You bristle.

“I can't,” you say, “but I can channel some magic through powerful objects.” You glance at your scissors, lying innocuously on your work table. Seokjin follows your gaze and it lands on your scissors.

He moves closer to your work table. “Is this magical?” He touches your scissors almost reverently, as he looks up to meet your eyes.

“I'm not sure,” you admit, “It's been in my family for generations.”

“Is this how you're the most renowned seamstress in your town?” He looks amused, and you feel your lips pulling down into a scowl.

“Not everybody can use that. You need to be skilled enough surpass most ordinary people, and then and only then,” you glare at him, “will a person be able to harness the magic in those blades.”

“Oh?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, “Quite proud of your skills, aren't you?”

“Yes,” you raise your chin defiantly at him.

“But you are a strange, wonderful thing indeed,” he admits, “To not have an ounce of magical blood, and in this day and age when magic seems to be waning,” he steps forward to you, gazing directly into your eyes, “you are truly fascinating.”

You meet his dark eyes, intense and captivating, completely focused on you, and you cannot hold his gaze. You look away, clearing your throat. “I will start my journey for the tears of the moon in two weeks,” you inform him.

When you hear no reply you turn around, only to stumble back when you find Seokjin startlingly close to you. He catches your arm easily, steadying you, and you pull back from his touch as if burnt.

“Sorry,” he grins, unrepentant, and your anger fizzles away as quickly as it had appeared.

“How quaint,” you retort, “The Emperor apologizing to a mere seamstress.”

“I am a kind and generous Emperor, after all,” he winks at you, and with a swish of his royal blue robes, turns around to leave.

You snort in disbelief, but a warmth surrounds and lingers in your heart.

You will be leaving in a week, to catch the tears of the moon and make fabric with it.

You touch the ruby red pendant in your throat, and pray for courage.

You have split the sunlight into thin strands with your scissors, and they now adorn the pure white cloth you had purchased from merchants across the sea.

It isn't enough, you think, eyeing critically at the dazzling gold light emanating from the cloth, it almost looks gaudy.

You frown at your work for a few more minutes before an idea strikes you.

You set aside your scissors and leave hastily.

“I wish to meet the Emperor,” you inform the guards, who eye you skeptically.

“I'm the royal seamstress,” you tell them, “I need some measurements.”

“The Emperor is in an important meeting.”

You huff. “Just ask if he can see me.”

The guard rolls his eyes, before announcing carelessly, “Your Majesty, some lady is here to see you. She says she's a royal seamstress-”

“Ask her to enter.”

The guard stops mid-sentence, gaping stupidly.

You giggle at the look on his face before entering the Emperor’s chamber.

Seokjin is seated at the head of the table, but he looks exhausted and irritated. Royals courtiers sit around him, arguing in animated voices. Seokjin's eyes meet yours when you enter, and he gestures for you to come to him.

“What is it?” He asks, “I hope it's more interesting than discussion about how to conduct rain rituals.”

“Rain rituals are sacred!” You whisper, scandalised and Seokjin grins at you. “I don't believe in them,” he tells you in a low tone, and you gawk at him, open-mouthed.

“How can the Emperor not believe in-”

“And who is this?” A cold voice interrupts your conversation.

“My seamstress,” Seokjin answers, equally coolly.

“A seamstress? In a meeting regarding the royal budget?” The man who had interrupted you asks, “Could Your Majesty be neglecting his duties because of, ah,” he coughs delicately, “your seamstress?”

Seokjin smiles, but there's no humor in it. “You would be assuming wrong, Chancellor, for I have been merely sick to do my duties, that is all. If you lot,” he addresses the remaining crowd sharply, “are done arguing, you may leave.”

The crowd murmurs their dissent, but Seokjin watches them impassively until one by one, the courtiers leave, all except one.

Seokjin's eyes are closed as he says, “I thought I asked you all to leave.”

“Your Majesty,” the Chancellor begins, but is cut off by Seokjin.

“Leave.”

The Chancellor scowls, before throwing you a furious look and exiting hastily.

“Did you have to be so mean?” You ask idly, playing with the paper fan at your feet.

“I assure you I'm not mean. That man would happily have seen my death without batting an eyelash.”

“Still,” you insist, “you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“I don't need to catch flies, I'm an Emperor,” Seokjin states absently, and you glance at him. His eyelids are drooping and he looks tired.

“You're hardly an Emperor when you're like this,” you sigh, “I'll tell your guards to leave you alone for some time.”

“Hmm,” he agrees, already half-asleep.

Unbidden, your lips curve into a smile.

“Sleep well, Your Majesty.”

The night before you're set to leave to find the tears of the moon, there's a knock at your door.

You open it eagerly.

It's a guard.

“Oh,” you sound disappointed to even your own ears, and your disappointment catches you by surprise. Who were you even expecting?

Then the guard raises his face to meet your eyes. “It's me,” he whispers, and the dark eyes and mellifluous voice soothes your disappointment and instead evokes a strange mix of excitement and happiness in you.

“Why are you disguised?” You ask him, once you're both safely inside and he has taken off his guard helmet.

“There are too many eyes in the palace,” he confesses.

“Oh,” you say, “but what does it matter if you visit a seamstress?”

“You mean,” he sets his clunky helmet on your work table and settles comfortably on your floor, “what does it matter that the young and dashing Emperor is visiting a girl in the middle of the night?”

“You've visited me before in the night,” you point out amicably, settling down next to him.

“Well I was stupid then,” he says.

“Stupid about what?” You laugh.

“Everything. Nothing.”

This answer earns him a raised eyebrow and he bursts into laughter.

This is the first time you have heard him laugh, and you stare at how undignified his laughter is -almost like a window being cleaned - yet so so adorable.

“You really have no respect for me,” he marvels, and you shrug.

“I might either be your most prized court member or dead,” you reply, “I've had months to come to terms with this. There's no point in being afraid.”

“Such cheek,” he moves closer to you, and you stare back at him, at his dark eyes that drop down to your lips for the barest flicker of a second and at his full, rosy lips that he wets with his tongue.

Suddenly your throat is parchment dry and your cheeks feel red hot.

“You should go,” you manage to say, in a hoarse voice.

“How dare you order me around,” the words aren't threatening, instead lazy and languid.

“Your Majesty,” you begin, but Seokjin glances at you, and you quiet down.

“You are very pretty, you know that?” he tells you, and you flush.

“Yeah I do,” you respond, even though your cheeks are crimson with embarrassment.

“Not as pretty as me though,” he says, and you almost shove him. Seokjin catches your hand movement with his eyes and chuckles. “I do wonder,” he murmurs, drawing closer and closer to you, “if you find me attractive.”

“Everyone probably does,” you blurt out, and Seokjin laughs, high-pitched and squeaky.

The next morning, the two of you are entwined in each other's arms, but both of you resolutely refuse to address it.

You return two weeks later, with the tears of the moon, injured, bruised and bloody.

“Welcome back,” Seokjin says, but he sounds anything but welcome. His eyes are cold, and completely unlike the last day the both of you spent together.

You hadn't expected anything from him, but it still stings the way he looks at you like a stranger.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you reply, and he nods at you, before turning away to a ministry official.

You keep your head bowed, waiting until he leaves to look up at the sky.

The sunlight seems muted, the air chilly. It seems autumn has arrived.

That night, you sleep badly. There are dreams of your near death experiences, dreams of you failing and getting your family killed, there are dreams of broken promises and spilt milk and then there are dreams of him.

“-wake! Just wake up already!”

Your eyes fly open. Someone is bending over you, shaking you awake.

“Finally.” The voice says, and with a pang you recognize it as Seokjin’s. “I thought you'd never wake.”

“Why-” you begin, but Seokjin swipes his thumb across your cheek.

It comes away wet.

“You were crying in your sleep,” he says, “Nightmare?”

You half-shrug nod at him and he accepts your response. The two of you sit in silence for a while before you say, “It won't be long now.”

“What?”

“I have found where the blood of the stars is. I'll be leaving soon to-”

“No.”

“What?” Your eyes are wide, shocked as they look at Seokjin.

“You cannot leave my side,” he says, “At least not until I say so.”

“I'm not a toy,” you seethe quietly.

“And you have no free will of your own. So what does that make you?”

“Get out,” you say.

Seokjin pauses, looking almost guilty for a second, before his features fall into their familiar cool mask, as he storms away.

The next day on your table, is a single blue rose.

You stare at it for a moment before noticing a parchment underneath that.

It's a letter.

I'm sorry. Jimin said I was being stupid by not telling you exactly what I feel. It's easier to write this than telling you directly.

I was worried about you.

It annoyed me immensely that I allowed myself to be so affected by you that I started blaming you. It's not your fault that I'm being immature. I really did miss you. I do wish you wouldn't have to leave so soon and on such a dangerous mission, but I won't stop you.

Stay safe,

Seokjin

But it's a mission you gave me, you think coldly in your mind, even though his words have thawed you somewhat.

The blue rose is admittedly gorgeous and you wonder where on earth he found it.

The robe is coming along nicely.

The moonlight is a glittery white substance that blends into the fabric and makes it shimmer, balancing the golden yellow of the sunlight.

You still have to wear protective glasses though, as working with such potent magical substances could be dangerous. It is up to you to dilute their magic in a way that would be suitable for human eyes.

Your eyes stray to the blue rose lying to the side and wonder what he is doing. You have been here for months, yet you the only times you have met are usually in the cover of the dark, secretive and away from prying eyes.

You set down your work and pick up the rose, marveling at the beauty of it. You almost prick your finger on a thorn when you hear a knock at your door.

“The Empress Dowager wishes to meet with you for tea,” comes the message and you rise up in surprise.

You open the door, and receive a gorgeous invitation, written in thick white parchment reserved for important people. The words written on it confuse you, yet who are you to refuse?

“I will be there.”

Maids scurry around you, dressing you in finery, dusting your face with powder and smearing your skin with fragrant oils.

You had tried to deny them at first, but you realised the futility of it, and let them have their way.

You are dressed in red silks and your hair in an elegant top knot, but you still survey yourself critically in the mirror. You do not know what this meeting entails and you hope you do not disappoint the dowager empress.

“Enter,” a cool voice comes in through the partition where you are kneeling, having been announced to the Empress Dowager.

The door part and you slide in, taking with awe at the beauty of the Autumn Palace. The Autumn Palace is the residence of the dowager empress and her court ladies, even though traditionally court ladies were present at the Summer Palace, and the Emperor's residence.

However, Seokjin being unmarried and owning no concubine meant that the Summer Palace had no use for court ladies and hence they had all chosen to surround the Empress Dowager.

The Empress Dowager is beautiful, almost shockingly so. It makes sense, you reason in your mind, for her son was uncommonly beautiful as well.

“Will you sit?” she smiles kindly at you, while she orders her ladies with silent commands to serve you tea.

“I brewed that myself,” she tells you, “And there are some cakes as well that the maids prepared.”

You sip slowly at the flavored tea, trying to discern why you might be summoned here.

“Is the Emperor well?”

You must look startled by the question, because the Empress laughs. “I may be his mother, but he's still the Emperor of this country. He is much too busy to visit an old lady like me.”

“He's fine,” you say, “I think.”

The Empress laughs again. “And here I thought you were the most informed about his well being.”

“I'm sorry but why would you think that?” You ask, confused. It's not like Seokjin regularly visits you, or has ever spoken anything beyond superficial things to you. You do like him, and he seems to enjoy your company, but it's a tenuous relationship.

The court lady-in-waiting tuts at your irreverent response, and you bow your head, suitably chastened.

“Look up child,” the Empress says, “I admit I might not know the workings of the Inner Palace. But if I, who has been isolated away in the Autumn Palace have heard of you, surely you must mean something to the Emperor?”

You remain quiet. Where is this conversation even going, you wonder.

“Do you miss your family?”

“Yes.”

“I could arrange for you to be taken away to them.”

So she disapproves, you surmise. She doesn't want her son to be caught with some peasant girl with no value when he could easily be marrying princesses and securing alliances.

“It's not that I don't like you,” the Empress laughs lightly, reading your expressions like a book. “I do like you very much, that's why I want to help you. Go home. The Palace is no place for innocents like you.”

“There's something I must do here, Your Highness.”

“The robe, I presume?”

You blink. You had no idea she knew.

“Do you really think I know nothing? There have been others before you. They have failed. They will always fail. The blood of the stars requires a sacrifice. Would you be willing to pay the price?”

You sit quietly, reeling in shock at her revelations. You did not know there were others. Had they all failed at the third task too? Why had Seokjin not told her?

Instead of mulling deeper, you meet the Empress Dowager’s eyes. “Yes,” you say resolutely, “I will.”

Her expression softens. “I hope you succeed in your endeavor.”

The next day you send a letter to Seokjin.

Seokjin arrives in the night, this time disguised as a kitchen aid.

What is this relationship, you think wildly. What is this relationship where the Emperor meets you at night, comes when called, sends you blue roses with letters and stares at you with such intensity that you can feel your whole body burning?

“You called me first.” He looks happy, you note.

“Your mother summoned me today.”

Seokjin looks surprised for a moment, before laughing.

“Did she threaten you? Ask you to leave?”

“Not..really,” you say. Did she threaten you? She didn't feel very threatening. Mostly she felt sad, and… lonely.

“Don't be fooled by whatever she says,” Seokjin tells you, “My mother is a dangerous person.”

“She didn't feel dangerous,” you protest, “She was so nice. She offered me cake.”

Seokjin cackles at you. “You're so gullible. If all it takes for your trust to be won is cake, then I'd have offered you some ages ago.”

You blush. “Your Majesty but-”

“Have you been calling me that all this while? Doesn't it sound wrong?”

“What?” You're confused by this turn of conversation.

“Won't you call me Seokjin?”

You hide your face in your palms, trying to quell your rising embarrassment. Why is he like this, you wonder, always blindsiding you with almost romantic statements like this, yet-

“No, I'm too-”

“I call you by your name,” he points out.

“You're the Emperor!” you hiss, frustrated, “You can call me whatever you want!”

Seokjin laughs, looking delighted. “Yet you insist on disobeying me at every turn, and even snapping at me like this,” he moves closer, so close that you can smell the faint scent of wood incense on him, “but you balk at calling me by name. I thought you'd be delighted at the opportunity.”

“We were discussing something important,” you say in a whisper.

“What could be more important than this?” Seokjin says, his voice low and intimate, and you really want to shove him for being so playful.

You move away from him, putting a healthy distance between the two of you, and Seokjin looks slightly disappointed but acquiesces with a smile.

“So what else did my mother tell you?” He asks, as you pull a wool blanket around you.

“She told me there were others.”

“No others.”

The conviction with which he replies makes your heart flutter, and you almost want to ask him what he means by that, but you resist.

“Seamstresses I mean,” you say, “She said they failed.”

“They did,” he agrees, “But none of them even survived the first task. You're the first one to have survived twice.”

“So you knew I could die?”

“Yes.”

There's silence for a moment. You hate it. You hate that he makes you feel warm all over with loving words like before and then be so cold and callous the next moment.

“I had my enchanter follow you for the second task.”

Your eyes snap up.

“What?”

Seokjin looks away, as he begins to speak fast, “I had to know if you were skilled enough to survive the sunlight. Only then could I risk-” he pauses, looking conflicted.

“Your enchanter helped me?” You ask, still surprised at this revelation. Royal enchanters were notoriously difficult to command, especially when they were away from their masters. The fact that Seokjin had taken such a risk-

“Taehyung is a friend of mine,” Seokjin says, “A pesky friend who causes more trouble than he helps, but he's trustworthy. That's why I thought I'd send him.”

You sit there reeling in shock at these revelations, while trying not to let much show on your face.

“You have an enchanter,” you say, “Why do you need me then?”

Seokjin makes a low noise of frustration in the back of his throat. “Maybe an enchanter could get those things for me,” he says, “But not in a way that would be useful, and certainly not in a way that would let the materials be woven into cloth. There is a special type of magic in you, you know that.”

It is much more nicer when you aren't discussing things that threaten your fantasies, you think to yourself. It's so much easier to just admire the sharp curve of his jaw or the gentle slope of his nose or the plump softness of his lips - yet, you cannot help but think - what is the future for this relationship?

Seokjin is watching you carefully, you realise, and you look up at him to offer him a wan smile. He looks unconvinced, and gently cups your cheek.

“You look sad.”

“You sound sad,” you laugh, and why is it that he looks so devastated by your sadness when he is mostly the reason for your heartache?

The fire in your hearth gives a loud sizzle then, and you turn around to tend to it, giving you a chance to compose yourself. You have two choices - to let this play along its course or to deny it and send him away.

The fire crackles merrily as you stoke it, and when the firelight falls across the Emperor's face, his dark eyes are on you.

And just like that, your decision is made for you.

The dowager has invited you once again.

This time for a dinner.

You're unsure of what this means and whether you have the right to refuse, because there is so much to be done, and you're running out of dyes and silks.

It's almost time to set sail to find the blood of stars, (three days, to be more exact) and your robe is giving you much trouble.

You're not exactly in the ideal mindset to visit a supposedly cunning former Empress or play her mind games.

All you want to do is to set to town and buy supplies.

You could ask Seokjin, but he'd have them bought for you, right here at the Palace, and you've always preferred to see the materials you purchase.

You rummage through your wardrobe to find something simple yet elegant, so that you don't get mistaken for someone of commoner origin (which you are, but you've learnt that the cloth sellers usually give better prices to the nobles) when a maidservant enters through your door.

You are checking how the simple blue cotton dress you've chosen looks on you while she sets a small envelope on your table.

“A message from Your Majesty, my lady.”

You raise your eyebrow as you eye the Imperial seal encrusted enveloped lying on your drawer. What is it that Seokjin wants now?

His note is short and to the point.

I heard that you're planning to dine with my mother. Would you like to be rescued by a charming prince from this unpleasant scenario?

Yours,

Seokjin

Unable to help yourself, you snort in laughter even as the maidservant gives you a look of polite judgment.

“Who do you think you are?” You poke his chest, once you see him, this time dressed down as a simple stable boy.

“Your Prince Charming?” He grins at you, even as he brushes a horse meticulously.

“You're not a prince,” you point out, “And how did you even know about the invitation?”

He shrugs, and feeds the horse he's grooming a cube of sugar from his pocket. The horse swallows it in a single bite and he smiles fondly at it.

“Your Majesty?” You ask again, and he turns to you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You roll your eyes. “What did you want to do?”

“I wanted to see you,” he says, pretending to look hurt, “I wasn't aware it was such a crime.”

“I refused an invitation from the Empress,” you poke his chest again, “Because. Of. You.” You poke him three more times for emphasis and he guffaws.

“You're adorable,” he catches your impertinent finger and kisses the tip of it. “Anyway, I have a rare few hours off. I wished to spend them with you. That's why I made you refuse.”

Your cheeks warm at his words and he notices almost immediately. “Oh?” He sounds delighted, “Are you blushing?”

“No,” you hiss at him, cheeks crimson.

Seokjin's only answer is a merry peal of laughter.

“This is the market district,” you tell Seokjin, whose sharp eyes take in the bustling crowd.

“I've visited in disguise,” he says, and you nod, hiding your surprise.

“So what do you want to eat?” You ask, almost bouncing on the balls of your feet, as the familiar smell of fried seafood and vinegar tickles your nostrils. The whiff of the ocean air, the busy mass of people who mill around you, the sharp tang of soy sauce in the air mixed with the smoke and dust makes you feel free in a way the pristine palace had never felt.

“Eat?” He looks at you, “I thought you wanted to buy silk and threads.”

“Well yes but how do you come into the market and not eat? Let's eat something and then we can get to business.”

“I'll rely on you then to guide me,” Seokjin bows his head, and you grab his hand dragging him to a sweet stall.

“Fresh pears drizzled in honey,” you grin at him, offering him a plate while simultaneously arguing with the shop owner that he's ripping you off.

“Two silver pieces? Who do you think I -”

Seokjin places a hand on your arm, amused. “It's fine.”

“No he thinks he can-”

He darts forward to kiss your lips briefly and you still. The shopkeeper hoots in delight, but immediately falls silent when Seokjin shoots him a look.

“For that my angels,” the man grins, “you can have your plates for free!”

“20 meters of all your dyed threads and-”

You pause, feeling Seokjin's eye on you.

“This is a good bargain,” Seokjin says, “It seems cheap.”

“Shut up,” you whisper back at him, “I know the rates, they're scamming me because of you. You look way too well bred to be here.”

“Oh what does it matter?” Seokjin waves a hand, “It's my money. Why are you so stingy with it?”

You pause for a moment. “Money is money, isn't it? Why waste it?”

Seokjin gives you a fond look at that. “Don't argue with shopkeepers anymore,” he tells you, and when you open your mouth to protest, “Unless you'd like a repeat of what happened earlier.”

You immediately close your mouth shut, cheeks pinking.

The two of you trudge outside with the violet sunset in the background, only for you to drag Seokjin to more food stalls.

“This,” you shove into his plate, “is the best food ever.”

To his credit, Seokjin doesn't eye the fried squid drenched in chili sauce and vinegar with even a shred of suspicion. Instead, he picks a piece with all of his royal elegance and places it in his mouth, making an exaggerated moan of approval.

“This is so good,” he groans and you giggle.

“Have a drink with it,” the stall owner urges them, “It tastes better that way.”

Seokjin accepts the drink and downs the small cup in a single go. You whistle, amazed.

He coughs and then grins. “Your turn.”

Your turn has you flushed even by the first cup, and the second cup makes you pleasantly buzzed.

“I think that's enough?” Seokjin tells you cautiously, but you only grin and drink a third, fourth and fifth cup.

By then you're swaying dangerously, and Seokjin curses as he hurries over to catch you before you fall.

“My Prince,” you slur, batting your eyelashes at him and Seokjin bursts into laughter.

“Why,” he questions you, breathless with laughter, “do you insist on making things difficult for yourself?”

“Mhmm,” is your intelligent response, nuzzled comfortably into a warm chest and thoughts blurring into a soft haze.

You feel the soft press of lips to your forehead, and you grin sleepily. “Seokjin,” you murmur, “Seokjin.”

“Hmm?” is the warm rumble from the chest you're buried in, and you giggle, drowsy.

“Seokjinnie,” you repeat, “wanna go home.”

“I'm taking you home.”

“Mm,” you say, “That's nice.”

“Glad you approve.”

Morning dawns for you when sunlight falls across your face, brutally harsh with its intensity.

Your hazy mind is surprised at first, as the sun doesn't shine into your room until mid afternoon. Slowly your mind catches up to the fact, and you bolt upright in your bed.

A mistake, as the copious amounts of alcohol you'd consumed left you dehydrated and thus with a throbbing headache.

You groan in misery, curling in on yourself, before you spot the glass of water in the side of your bed.

You reach for it, and a paper flutters down.

To,

The One who calls me Seokjinnie,

Drink up the hangover potion and apply the salve on your table.

Yours,

Seokjinnie

You clutch the piece of paper in dismay as the previous events flood into your mind.

Despite yourself, a small smile curls at the corner of your lips as you recall his words in the letter. He may not be at your side now, but the letter and its contents wrap around you like a warm blanket.

You quickly grab the hangover potion and chug it, trying to ignore the burn, and settle back into the sheets prepared for a day off.

When night falls, the burn of acid clawing up your throat wakes you.

You rise from your bed, the nausea leaving you a bit shaken, as you hadn't eaten anything the whole day choosing instead to languish in your bed.

You sit back on your bed contemplating whether raiding the kitchens at this time of the night would be worthwhile or not.

You decide that the hunger in your belly is much too fierce to let you think, and so you leave your room in pursuit of food.

To your surprise, the royal kitchen still has a warm fire going and a few stragglers working to scrub pots and pans as you enter it.

Since it's almost empty your presence is noted at once. A hard faced man armed with a heavy-looking skillet gives you a piercing look.

“And who might you be?”

“I am a seamstress. I haven't had any dinner. Is there anything to spare?”

The harsh look in his eyes softens at once.

“Mina, fetch the girl some soup. Come here,” he tells you, “Eat by the fire.”

The soup is simple fare, likely made from leftovers of the dinner taken earlier by the nobles, but it still tastes heavenly. “Give her some rice will you,” the man tells a small boy, who scurries at once to follow his orders.

“Thank you,” you incline your head gratefully at him. He gives you an assessing look instead, before pulling up a stool to sit next to you.

“You're close to Jin, aren't you?”

You hope your puzzlement shows on your face. “Jin?”

“The Emperor. Don't tell me you don't know his name. After all, there's talks of him taking his first concubine.”

You color slightly at the words, coughing into your soup a bit. “Umm no. I didn't know he's called Jin. I thought his name is Seokjin.”

“To friends, he's simply Jin. He spent much of his boyhood in the kitchens. I know him well.”

“The kitchens?” You are surprised. You would have pegged Seokjin for a poet, maybe. Or a calligrapher. Not the sort to languish around kitchens. What did he do here anyway?

“He loves making new dishes and forcing us to eat it.” The man laughs, “We're lucky he's a good cook.” There is fondness in his words and a smile on his lips as he recalls a young Seokjin's antics.

“That sounds…” You fall silent.

“He's a sweet boy. Who grew up to be a ruthless Emperor.” His eyes are sad now. “There is word in the Palace that you are bewitching him. You should be careful.”

Your hands still over your soup. Sorcery performed by anyone other than the royal enchanter or extended members of royalty is punishable by death.

“I am not a sorceress,” you laugh airily, “Or I would have conjured food out of thin air instead of coming here.”

The man doesn't smile. “I can sense magic. We come from a long line of royalty where a distant cousin married a far off princess. Of course, my magic is faint and diluted by the years of mixed marriages, but I just want to say, I'm probably not the only one with this ability.”

It takes all of your willpower to continue eating and keep your face a careful mask of blank indifference. “I see,” you smile at him, “Thank you for the food. It was much appreciated.”

You walk through the dark hallways of the Palace like a ghost.

The royal chef's words haunt you, as they should, but you're distracted by other things, things like the fact that you have to leave to retrieve the blood of the stars soon. Things like, this dalliance with Seokjin is just that, a casual fling that has no hope of going anywhere.

Your life is at stake here, yet you have forgotten, grown complacent by his sweet smiles and dark eyes and suddenly you feel so alone, in this dark Palace with its glass walls and gilded floors.

You miss your family with a fierce longing it almost hurts to breathe.

Tears fall freely from your eyes, and you sink to the floor your back against a wall, a fist across your mouth as you muffle the sound of your sobs.

Your chest aches with a sharp pain not borne of any physical hurt, but only your loneliness. You quickly stop crying once you hear a quiet sound - much like the swish of a cloak.

You turn around, scanning the dark for the intruder, but decide to leave to your quarters as soon as possible when an arm pulls you into a darkened corridor.

Your surprised gasp is muffled by a rough hand, and you almost bite it before the familiar scent of wood incense fills your nose.

“Your Majesty-!” you begin, surprised.

“Are you crying?”

You shift your eyes to your feet.

“Why are you away from your room? Crying in the middle of the Palace?”

You remain silent.

He sighs and then embraces you close to him. You hug him back, with a fierceness, and a grip that must surely hurt.

“You should tell me what's wrong.”

You are what's wrong, you want to say, your kind words and your cold actions.

“Can we go to my room?” You enquire plaintively instead, and Seokjin scoops you into his arms, carrying you the rest of the way.

“What is it then,” Seokjin asks, once the two of you are settled under the warmth of your covers, “What pressing issue do you have that you hide away in the dark and cry?”

“I'm afraid,” you blurt out, and then clap a hand over your traitorous mouth.

“Afraid of what, my love?” And the endearment hurts.

“Do you know,” you ask him, pushing away the hair that falls into his eyes, “the story behind the laughter of the sun, the tears of the moon and the blood of the stars?”

“Yes,” he says, “It's a common folktale in our kingdom.”

“So do you know what they stand for?”

“Yes,” Seokjin says, and then recites obediently, “A test of courage for the sun, a test of the mind for the moon and a test of…” He falters mid-sentence looking horrified.

“A test of the soul for the stars,” you finish for him, smiling slightly. “The price for the blood of the stars is my soul.”

“No,” he whispers.

You lean across and kiss his lips. It's chaste and wet with your tears, but you are happy. Happy that your questions are finally answered, about why he would send you to your certain death. Happy that Seokjin loves you enough to stop you.

Seokjin is a practical person, who probably didn't believe in fairy tales and had not assumed that the price would be too high.

“I will get you your kingdom, Your Majesty.”

The two of you spend the night arguing.

“Not worth it,” Seokjin snarls at you, when you explain to him what the cost for the stars is.

“It's a mythical object, and nothing can be obtained without sacrifice,” you explain to him patiently.

“Sacrifice? You think this is a sacrifice? It's a death sentence!”

“Your Majesty, please be rational. The courtiers know that you sit on the replica. Sooner or later they will wonder why you don't sit on the original. They will spread rumors about why you don't sit on the real Glass Throne and question your parentage and your claim to the throne.”

“You were crying about this just a few minutes ago! Why are you so desperate to die now?”

“I wasn't crying about dying,” you scowl, “I was crying because I didn't know if you knew I would die. I was crying because I thought you knew anyway and didn't care.”

Seokjin look stricken. “How could you even think that?”

“Well it's not like you told me,” you say, indignation sparking in your eyes.

He wilts. “I cannot- how do you think I can live with the idea that you-” He rubs a hand over his face, looking tired. “Don't do this. You are the only good thing in my life right now.”

The words strike a chord in your heart.

“There is no way we would be together even if I could live.”

Seokjin's eyes flash. “Oh? Have you thought it all out then? How are you so sure that I'm the one who would leave? Maybe you would be the one who would get tired of being around a man who barely has time for anything, let alone his wife.”

“Maybe,” you concede, “But we will never know now, will we?”

“We will never know because you won't give this a chance. I don't need that silly robe. I am the Emperor of this country. I don't need a robe to rule, nor a throne to reinforce the fact that I'm the ruler.”

“That,” you admit, “is true.”

“I also don't want a kingdom built on blood and death,” he says. “It's a barbaric way to live.”

“Then, what will you do?” You ask. Hope blooms in your chest, as his words convince you that you do not need to die in order for him to rule.

“I will do what must be done. I will be coronated without the Glass Throne.”

“It's a centuries old tradition-”

“Traditions are meaningless if they are harmful.” Seokjin's eyes are grim. “I will outlaw the Glass Throne.”

You gasp. “You can't just outlaw a throne, how will we know who is the legitimate heir and who is not?”

“Well I am the legitimate heir,” he says, “And the stupid throne won't seat me.”

Surprised laughter bubbles out of you at his disrespect.

“This has gone on too long anyway,” he grumbles, “Maybe my father was just senile in his old age. How do we know that the will is even correct? Do we really have to sacrifice people just so I can prove that I'm the real deal?”

You smile. “It's your decision, Your Majesty. I am merely following orders.”

He huffs incredulously at that and you giggle.

“The Council won't agree though,” you warn him.

“I am the Emperor,” Seokjin's face breaks out into a sudden grin, “What can they do to me?”

Despite all his bravado of outlawing the throne, Seokjin consults his trusted confidante before doing so.

“Blood of stars requires a soul, this much I know,” Taehyung says, “But that is dark, dark magic and the Glass Throne is a much more benign object than that.”

“So? Just give me the answer Taehyung, if I wanted to be confused I'd just ask my council.”

“So,” Taehyung grins, flashing pearly white teeth, “You should try sitting on the throne, now that you've proven that you won't kill innocents to keep your crown.”

“What?”

“It was a test,” Taehyung says, climbing over a desk to settle comfortably on it. “Your father was worried you'd be a tyrant.”

“Me? A tyrant?” Seokjin looks so outraged, that you can't help but laugh.

“Oh don't worry,” Taehyung laughs, “It's a test all rulers have gone through, to make sure no usurpers get seated on the throne.”

“You think this is funny?” Seokjin glares at Taehyung so fiercely that you feel surprised that Taehyung is still watching back with steady eyes, “That she almost died? What if I hadn't come to that decision?”

“Then you would not be deserving of the throne,” Taehyung hops off the table, and smiles. “But I had my full faith in you.”

The coronation ceremony is beautiful.

You had completed the robe of the sun and moon in a week, and the coronation ceremony was two days after that.

Seokjin looks like a god of the old, descended directly from the heavens as his silver-gold robes flash around him, lighting up his already handsome features even more.

You smile, ducking your eyes shyly when he catches you staring.

You watch as he climbs the iridescent glass throne, and sits. A crown of silver is placed on his head and the man next to him shouts,

“In the name of the Gods, the Emperor of the Great Qing, may he live and reign for ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand of ten thousand years.”

“Then? What did he say?”

“He said that I'm too soft. That not taxing people enough would end up with empty coffers and a rebellion on my hand.”

You trace the curve of his jaw with your fingers.

“Are you paying attention?” He asks crossly and you peck his cheek.

“Yes, yes I am.”

“Then what are you doing?” He grabs your hand in his, lacing your fingers together.

“Nothing,” you grin impishly, and then grow serious as you note the dark circles under his eyes.

“You should rest more.”

“Should I?” His demeanor has changed now, his shoulders, tense from discussing about work, now relax. His eyes survey your sprawled form and suddenly you feel self conscious.

“What? What is it?” You ask, dragging the covers over your body, feeling shy.

“Nothing,” he answers back with a lopsided twist of his mouth that makes your heart race.

“Your mother seems intent on me leaving.”

Seokjin glowers. “I've told her time and again-”

“She's only looking out for you.”

“I'm old enough to look out for myself.”

Your eyes soften as you observe his mutinous face and he looks at you, sighing. “I wish this were easier.”

You feel a pang in your chest.

He burrows his face in your neck and you hold him close, brushing his dark hair softly.

You feel the warm brush of his lips against your neck and gasp in surprise. He peppers your neck with kisses, trailing upwards to your lips, pressing his mouth firmly against yours.

You kiss him back, eager and hungry, as his hands move up, up, up.

He draws back to watch you gasp for breath, eyeing your red lips with hooded eyes.

“Pretty,” he murmurs, before kissing you again, this time with more intensity.

You spend much of your free time in the kitchens, chatting with the royal chef who has thawed immensely and offers you sweet treats everytime you visit.

“Is it true that you're a sorceress?” asks the shy Mina, the girl who you had often seen scrubbing dirty dishes.

“Oh yes,” you grin, “I'm a sorceress of the thread. A tailor.”

The royal chef hits your head with a spoon. “Don't even joke about it. You're becoming more and more notorious.”

You smile innocently at him.

“Last week an ambassador from Caledonia visited,” a gruff looking serving boy tells you, “Asking for His Majesty’s hand in marriage. To their Queen, you know. She's pretty old though, I think.”

Your smile slips from your face.

The chef notices it at once, cuffing the boy in his arm. “Go wash the oven, you simpleton.”

But the damage is done. Your good mood has evaporated, and you leave the place, pretending to smile and deny any heartsickness, as Mina called it.

Sometimes you hang around Taehyung.

“The rook should go here, I think.”

“How are you an enchanter yet do not know how to play chess?”

“I'm an enchanter,” Taehyung says looking puzzled, “How is it related to chess?”

You sigh, exasperated.

“He refuses everyone else, you know.”

Your eyes meet his.

“The Emperor. He said he has no interest in marrying a royal.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you give him a cool look.

“I did not ask you.”

“But you did,” Taehyung grins wide, “I heard it.”

“Nothing you bring will give my son anything.”

Your head is bowed, your hair meticulously arranged into a top knot, surrounded by jasmine flowers. You are dressed in rich cream silk, fit to be a noble woman.

Yet the dowager eyes you with trepidation.

“I know that, Your Highness.”

“Yet,” she places her cup of tea on the china plate with a soft clink, “you bring other priceless things. Happiness. Temperance. Beauty. Magic.”

Your nails dig into your palms with how tightly clenched your hands are, but you keep your face placid.

“Tell him I've given my approval,” she sighs.

Your heart gives a strange leap in your chest, and you clutch your chest, startled.

The dowager empress smiles at you, looking weary yet satisfied.

“You will make a fine Empress Consort.”

Yet.

All these things, and yet.

He has not asked.

Seokjin is reading a book, his eyes scrunched up as he peers closer to the candle, trying to see.

You smooth the creases on his forehead with your fingers. “Stop it, you will ruin your eyes.”

“I have to finish-”

“Just stop,” you place a finger on his book, “Or go to your room. There's more light there. My room is quite dark.”

“But I like it here,” he whines.

“Why?” You roll your eyes, “Surely your room is more comfortable?”

“Because you are here,” he wraps an arm around your midriff, pulling you closer, even as your cheeks burn at his words.

“Your mother met with me today.”

“More threats?” He laughs.

“She said to tell you that she approves.”

Seokjin goes still.

“Approval for what, Seokjin?”

“Oh must be the new-” he begins flippantly, but falls silent at the look in your eyes.

“You know what,” he refuses to meet your eyes.

“How will the Council approve, I'm not of royal blood-”

“Leave that to me,” he tells you, eyes glittering strangely. “All I care is what you want.”

“I want you,” is your hushed whisper, and he darts forward to kiss you deep.

“It will be difficult,” he warns, “Being a royal is the most annoying thing there is.”

“I have practice with annoying things,” you laugh.

“This is absurd! She's a charlatan! How can you marry-”

“Are you questioning me, Minister?” Seokjin's voice drips with barely concealed anger, and the man immediately backtracks.

“I wouldn't presume, Your Majesty,” he simpers, “I'm merely offering counsel, that there are other matches, useful matches-”

“Since when has choosing the Empress Consort been any decision of the Council? End this inane argument at once.”

“Your Majesty, but the-”

“But what?” Seokjin almost growls, and the Minister gives him a frightened look, before laughing nervously.

“The Councilor wouldn't like it, he has an eligible daughter of age, and much influence in court-”

“Is that a threat?” Seokjin's voice is calm now, icy cold.

“It's a fact, Your Majesty,” the Minister wipes sweat off his brow, “I am merely giving-”

“Counsel, I know. For too long I have given you free reign. Choosing the Empress Consort has always been a right of the Emperor's mother. You all meddle too much.”

“Of course, Your Majesty, merely stating that it would make no sense, just that she's a commoner's-”

“Ridiculous.” He rises up from his throne, eyes glinting with displeasure, “I cannot believe I'm having this conversation. We have so many more important things to discuss. The royal seamstress will become my Empress Consort and that is the final thing I will be saying about this matter.”

The wedding takes place three weeks later.

The Council threw a fit, but in the end were forced to accept that Seokjin was breaking no royal decrees. He was marrying a woman who could read, write, recite poetry, brew excellent tea and sew better than the best of noble women. By all means, you were an excellent choice except for your birth.

Maybe your accent was a bit off, not the stiff court dialect, but a looser more friendlier version of it, but that only endeared you more to the masses.

Any lingering doubts about you vanished the day of the wedding though, where people whispered that you were secretly of noble birth, because surely that gown must be a family heirloom?

(It wasn't. You'd stitched it yourself, with a little help from the leftover moonlight and your scissors.)

Now, you gaze at your husband, speaking animatedly to a foreign envoy. As if sensing your gaze, he turns to look at you, and you duck your chin to focus on your glazed chicken.

You look out at the hall and spot your family dining happily, and allow yourself to smile, finally content.

“Do you know,” Seokjin says as he shrugs off his golden robes, “that your grandmother asked me about the various types of threads used for various occasions?”

“What?” You laugh.

He nods, looking mournful. “She deemed me useless because I couldn't answer anything, and then said, Well, at least you have a nice face.”

You cackle with mirth, rejoicing that your grandmother gave him at least half the trouble his own mother had given you.

“Shut up,” he groans, “I was so humiliated.”

“You do have a nice face, though,” you climb into bed with him, and he turns to look at you, eyes bright.

“I do, don't I?” He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe I should install a mirror on the ceiling. So I can see my face first thing in the morning.”

“No,” you complain, “How would you even do that? It's so annoying and useless. I don't want to see my face first thing in the morning.”

He laughs and hugs you tight, as you squirm in his hold. “Well don't worry,” he tells you, “I hope to see only your face every morning I wake.”

You're so overcome by your embarrassment that you hide underneath the blanket.

Unfortunately for you, the two of you are in the same blanket, so this only means you're hiding in his chest.

Seokjin laughs, his chest rumbling with the sound, and you burrow your face deeper into his neck, as his arms come around you to wrap you in a comforting embrace.

You fall asleep to the familiar smell of wood smoke and incense, wishing this dream would never end.

end notes : uh yeah. its been 3 years since i wrote anything and this was completed in Sept 19. so sick of this sitting in my drafts, so there u go i guess.

#jin x reader #seokjin x reader #my fics

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