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casual-scriptorium · 3 years

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Caxton's Preface and 'proof' of Arthur's Court

"…and in divers places of England many remembrances be yet of him, and shall remain perpetually, and also of his knights. First in the abbey of Westminster, at St. Edward’s shrine, remaineth the print of his seal in red wax closed in beryl, in which is written, Patricius Arthurus Britannie, Gallie, Germanie, Dacie, Imperator. Item in the castle of Dover ye may see Gawaine’s skull, and Cradok’s mantle: at Winchester the Round Table: in other places Launcelot’s sword and many other things. Then all these things considered, there can no man reasonably gainsay but there was a king of this land named Arthur."

(Caxton's Preface to Le Morte D'Arthur, emphasis mine)

In William Caxton's Preface to Le Morte D'Arthur, he justifies the real historical presence of King Arthur by citing several extant artifacts and legendary remains associated with Arthur and other Knights of the Round Table. While the question of a 'real' King Arthur and his court are a moot point, the belief in and usage of the Arthurian stories in Thomas Mallory's and William Caxton's times is well documented and very real. Here, I will present some of the (brief) research into the objects and locations Caxton cites as 'proof' of Arthur's court.

"the abbey of Westminster, at St. Edward’s shrine, remaineth the print of his seal in red wax closed in beryl"

The shrine here mentioned is that of St. Edward the Confessor (c.1003-1066, ruler of England from 1043 until his death). The iteration of the shrine/tomb which Caxton would have been able to visit and observe was commissioned by Henry III along with the wider reconstruction of Westminster Abbey (begun in 1245), and was a popular site of pilgrimage during the Medieval period. The shrine, as that of a Catholic saint, was badly treated and stripped of valuables in Henry VIII's Dissolution of the Monasteries, though his daughter, the Catholic Mary I, had the shrine re-assembled during her time as monarch. The seal which Caxton describes is lost to time.

"in the castle of Dover ye may see Gawaine’s skull, and Cradok’s mantle"

Mallory places Gawaine's death on the shores of Dover, succumbing to the head wound he received from Lancelot at Benewick. A part of Caxton's proof is that the skull associated with Gawaine, visible in (one of the two, though which is not certain) the chapel at Dover Castle bears a head wound, as alluded to by Mallory in the text.

I was unable to find other references to a "Cradok" or his mantle with regard to Arthurian legends.

Although both of these objects are also lost to time, Dover Castle does contain a Roman-era lighthouse, "or Pharos, has been dated to around 46-50 AD, being constructed shortly after the Roman invasion of Britain in 43 AD, making the lighthouse the oldest building in England" (Watson "Dover Castle: Gawain's Skull").

"at Winchester the Round Table"

Thankfully, this object is still extant and is even on display in the Great Hall at Winchester Castle. Unfortunately, Caxton's claim of the object as 'proof' is sullied by the archaeology, which dates the creation of the table back to the reign of Edward I, whose Arthurian interests and imitations are well documented. The table top is thought to have been first hung in the Great Hall by Edward III, whose Arthurian interests are also well documented and left his mark on English honor in the creation of the Order of the Garter, an imitation of Arthur's Knights of the Round Table.

"other places Launcelot’s sword"

I was unable to find any information on this particular artifact, thought we might speculate the object was one display somewhere on the main isle of Britain during Caxton's time. Some sources cite Mallory as identifying Lancelot's castle, Joyous Gard, with Bamburgh Castle in Northumberland.

"and many other things"

Here, I deviate from the named objects and locations of Caxton's Preface (at least in the quote selected; Glastonbury is mentioned by Caxton slightly before listing the other objects and locations) and turn my attention towards two locations famously associated with Arthur's life and death.

Tintagel Castle, in Cornwall, has long been associated with Arthurian Legend. Ascribed as the place of Arthur's conception and sometimes his birth, the castle is also the setting of Tristian and Isolde's story, as the seat of Tristian's uncle, King Mark of Cornwall (Greaney 115, 119). Until the 1930s, the Castle was the location of tours which emphasized the Arthurian history and the Victorian tourism of the Castle and nearby town (now known as Tintagel) is a large part of the recent history; the ruins have since come under the possession and care of English Heritage, supplemented by connections to the Cornwall Heritage Trust, a collaboration made necessary by Cornish-nationalist radicals and threats to the current exhibits and signage upon the site (129-30). In the recent history of the Castle and associated landmarks, the tension between the real, tangible history of the site as a Post-Roman trading hub, and later a seat of Cornish power, though it was in decay and largely abandoned (118-20) by Caxton's lifetime, which is why it might not have made his list of notable sites.

Glastonbury Abbey was linked to Arthur's story in several earlier Arthurian texts, and Mallory follows this trend in placing Arthur's final resting place in the Abbey. In 1191, a claim was made that the joint tomb of Arthur and Guinevere was located, creating a well-timed windfall of interest during the rebuilding efforts, after the Abbey burned down in 1184. The Abbey is now in ruins, having been a tragic victim to the Dissolution of the Monasteries and later looting and quarrying.

Susan Greaney, who served as lead historian and archeologist to the 2014-2016 (re)interpretation project of displays, exhibits, and paths open to the public at Tintagel Castle, describes well the tension between the actual historicity of these sites and their Arthurian associations, where tourism and the popular culture surrounding Arthurian stories often outpaces interest in the more concrete history and significance of the locations. In effort to include these shadowy elements of pseudo-history, as well as the real history of belief in the associations, Greaney reveals that, "It was decided to use artistic methods to convey the legendary associations of the site, in the same way that the book sculptures had been used in the exhibition" (128), as seen in the statue, "Gallos," whose identity is fluid, dependent on one's knowledge of the Castle; "Was this Arthur? Or was it a powerful early medieval ruler? Or perhaps Earl Richard of Cornwall himself? These characters, equally shadowy in respect of their connection to Tintagel, have all played a significant part in the history of the site. The aim of this and the other artistic installations was to make the intangible tangle for our visitors but to retain a degree of ambiguity" (128).

Caxton's 'proofs', while lacking in providing evidence of a real Arthur's Court, are a link of evidence in the long chain of our fascination and interest in making tangible these stories and what they represent to our own understanding of history and what history means to our own time and society.

Sources

"Dover Castle: Gawain's Skull" (x)

Greaney, Susan. “Where History Meets Legend: Presenting the Early Medieval Archaeology of Tintagel Castle, Cornwall.” Digging into the Dark Ages: Early Medieval Public Archaeologies, edited by Howard Williams and Pauline Clarke, Archaeopress, 2020, pp. 114–38, https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv1zcm0qp.14. "The Shrine of St. Edward the Confessor" (x)

Whitman, Jon. “National Icon: The Winchester Round Table and the Revelation of Authority.” Arthuriana, vol. 18, no. 4, Scriptorium Press, 2008, pp. 33–65, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27870936.

Photo credits (in order of appearance)

"Tomb of Edward the Confessor" (x)

"Dover Castle" (x)

"King Arthur's Round Table at Winchester Castle, Winchester, Hampshire, England"(x)

"BambrughFromVillage" (x)

"King Arthur's Domain, Tintagel" (x) [the description on this image reads "So much to see at Tintagel, although i should imagine living here was a bit drafty."]

"KingArthurTombsite" (x)

"Gallos sculpture front" (x)

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askbriarblakwell · 4 years

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CHARACTER NAME: briar blakwell

AGE: 27

POSITION/OCCUPATION: seamstress/costumer, magic kingdom

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single

IMPORTANT CONNECTIONS: rumple/gold ( saltmates ), mallory rose ( flirtmance ), drizella locksley, evie jones, nate seaver, ( close friends ). philippa darcy ( annoyance )

from march 20th-27th TAGGED #& au disney .

SHORT BIOGRAPHY: The daughter of a wealthy business man and his first wife, Briar grew up feeling the weight of her father’s expectations weighing heavy on her shoulders. Even before she was born, she had her whole life mapped out before her. She’d make the right friends, secure the right grades so she could attend the right ivy league school and inevitably be giving the right work experience to eventually take over the family business. And someday her child would do the same, it was written in the stars. Most in social circle found comfort in the monotony of the lives their parents had chosen for them, but Briar found it stifling. She wasn’t inspired by society parties and nepotism, but rather by the pages of the fashion magazines daddy’s third trophy wife left for the maid on the living room table. She wanted to create things with her hands, luxuriate in expensive fabrics not surround herself with horrible ‘yes men’ and slowly kill herself drinking too much coffee at boring board meetings. When she brought up the issue to her father it was clear he was unimpressed with her insistence on sullying the family name.

Ever persuasive, Briar and her father struck up a deal: he’d pay for her to study fashion but only if she also committed to getting her business degree. It was her father’s doing that she got the job at Disney with the caveat she’d come to work for him on her thirtieth birthday. What he doesn’t know is that she has no intention of honoring that deal and has in fact been squirrelling away some of what would be her inheritance for when she is inevitably cut off.

#& au disney .#& bio .

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7-wonders · 5 years

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Shatter pt. 12

Summary: The end. Or, alternatively, the beginning.

Word Count: 2,834

A/N: This is it! The last chapter of Shatter. Depending on feedback, I may or may not do an epilogue, but the story ends here. Thank you so much for reading. Feedback is always appreciated, as are likes and reblogs. If you enjoyed, I have a lot more writing that you should check out on my masterlist!

The sun shines high in the sky, a stark change from the smoke-filled, ashy skies that dominated the original timeline. Those that still inhabit the Earth (most of them), however, have no memory of that timeline. For them, this is their only timeline. This is all that they know, and all that they will know. Only a privileged few are privy to the knowledge of how this timeline came to be.

Cordelia Goode is dragged through the desert by the guards that once swore their lives to protect her. She refuses to scream, remaining silent and defiant as she’s thrown onto her knees in front of what will be her demise. Her white robes become sullied with the reddish-brown dirt below her, nearly being pressed into the ground by one stoic guard as the other gets the ropes ready to restrain her to the stake. The worst part about this method of killing her, Cordelia thinks bitterly while she’s hauled back up and marched directly to the stake, is that she knows exactly what’s going to happen.

Michael had made good on his promise to make Cordelia watch as the world came to an end, making her painfully aware of every little thing that happened throughout the course of the apocalypse. At first, she had tried to just ignore the television that was constantly turned into the news and the newspapers that were in her prison everyday. For a while, it had worked as well as desensitizing oneself to a stream of droning voices that never shut up can be. Eventually, Michael had gotten bored of letting her think she was winning, and had much more fun manipulating her dreams so that she had no choice but to know everything that was happening outside the four walls she had come to know as her home over the past three years.

Cordelia tilts her head to the side, watching as her beloved mentor, Myrtle Snow, is dragged to her own stake. She’s dressed in the same white garments as Cordelia, not having been allowed the concession of picking her death robes like she had for her second burning at the stake. Unlike Cordelia, Myrtle refuses to remain silent, questioning “why must you be so brutish towards a lady?” and if “there will be refreshments provided prior to our executions?”

They file in slowly when the bell tolls at noon, all dressed in their finest black attire. Some of Cordelia’s former students, such as Coco and Queenie, refuse to look their disgraced Supreme in the eyes. Whether it’s because they can’t bear to face the thought of possible betrayal or because they won’t look at someone who attempted to murder one of her ‘girls’ in cold blood, Cordelia can’t be sure. Other students, like Madison, stare smugly, triumphantly at Cordelia. Still others, like Mallory (sweet Mallory, who was supposed to be the one to save the world, to defeat the great evil that is Michael Langdon), look at Cordelia, but only hesitantly and when she thinks nobody’s looking. The idle chatter of those who will observe the executions stops, and Cordelia knows that can only mean one thing: the Antichrist has arrived.

Cordelia senses him before she sees him, can feel the heavy air that accompanies his presence. If she listens closely, she swears that she can hear the agonized screams of souls being tortured in Hell with every step the son of the Devil takes. When she does see him, she has to fight to stop the shudder that threatens to wrack through her body.

Michael Langdon makes his triumphant entrance clad in all the finery that one would expect the ‘king’ (Cordelia refuses to actually refer to him as such) of this Hell on Earth to have available to him. His red suit jacket and black shirt give Cordelia an odd sense of deja vu, but she’s not sure where it comes from. The luxurious red-lined black cloak that’s draped over his shoulders is fastened with two ornate pentagrams, the silver perfectly contrasting the onyx crown that sits atop his golden locks. His bright blue eyes, only accentuated more with the deep red eyeshadow that highlights his inner eyelid, twinkle with mirth as his full lips pull up into a smirk.

Michael takes his time swaggering up to his chosen position in front of Cordelia, standing mere feet away from her. She wants to punch him, kick him, scratch him, hurt him, but she can’t. Even if she could free herself, it would be impossible for her to use her magic. She hasn’t been able to use her magic since the night she was imprisoned, Michael locking up her abilities just like she had been planning to lock up (Y/N)’s soul.

Idly, Cordelia wonders what’s become of you. She had managed to get the knife in deep enough that you were bleeding pretty heavily; maybe Michael was too late? She doubts it, but she doesn’t see you, which gives her hope. Surely, if you were alive, you would be right by Michael’s side as his ‘queen.’ There’s no way that he wouldn’t take the chance to rub it in her face that she failed.

“Myrtle Snow,” Michael says teasingly, relishing in the sweet taste of victory, “Cordelia Goode. For the attempted murder of your queen and fellow witch, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and conspiring to commit treason against the new world, I, Michael Langdon, Antichrist and king of this new world, sentence you to death by fire.”

Two of the guards pick up cans of gasoline, emptying them onto the condemned women. Cordelia coughs and sputters as some of the gasoline gets into her mouth, but Myrtle refuses to even look down at them.

“Our people have long stood by an agreement that no warlock...or other male magic user,” Michael smirks, knowing as well as everybody that he’s no ordinary warlock, “may kill a condemned witch. Only your sister may light the flame. I do not intend to break with that tradition today.”

Bitterly, Cordelia realizes that he’s reciting the speech she had given before the attempted execution of Ms. Mead. She looks expectantly at Mallory, assuming that the girl she’s trained to become the Supreme will light the flame that consumes her.

That assumption goes flying out the window the moment that you appear via transmutation, your darkly-painted lips turned up in a sickeningly misleading smile. Your black dress, long and form-fitting, flows behind you in the wind as you take Michael’s outstretched hand. A matching black crown, daintier than Michael’s, is perfectly placed on your head. You look everything like the queen Michael has proclaimed you to be, and Cordelia notices with a sinking stomach that the power seems to almost visibly spark and crackle around you.

“I’ll allow you to do the honors,” Michael says softly to you, stroking the hair that surrounds your face and smiling at the sight of you in a crown.

“Are you sure? I know you’ve been waiting years for this.” It’s not that you’re hesitant; actually, you’d be more than happy to end the life of the woman who’s manipulated and ruined your life for the past five (has it been five? It could be less, but it’s felt like a lifetime has passed since that day Michael stormed into Miss Robichaux’s with an AI machine gun). You’re worried that you’re stealing Michael’s magnum opus right out from under him, the thought of which you almost can’t bear.

Michael, sensing your unease at possibly upsetting him, smiles reassuringly. “Nothing would give me greater joy than seeing you, my dear, take what’s yours.” With that, you nod and turn your gaze back to the two women in front of you.

Myrtle Snow can see the fire building in your eyes even before it begins to catch on the gasoline that she’s bathed in. You shoot her a pitying look, “don’t worry. Your death will be quick compared to Cordelia’s.” With only a tilt of your head, the fire quickly starts.

Myrtle’s screams echo across the sparse landscape, neither you nor Michael making a move for Cordelia until long after the red-haired witch has become merely a smoldering pile of remains. You both want to be absolutely sure that Cordelia feels the enormity of her looming death.

“As for you, Miss Cordelia,” you spit vehemently before flicking your wrist. Immediately, the Supreme cries out in agony. It feels as if the blood in her body has been replaced with molten-hot lava, a torturous heat coursing through her veins. If your power’s anywhere close to what she believes it to be, then she wouldn’t be surprised if that’s actually the case. “You’ve spent years dictating how my life plays out. You prevented me from seeing the love of my life, attempted to have my memory wiped, and not to mention the time that you almost killed me.”

“Everything I did, I did for your benefit!” Cordelia calls out, screaming when she feels deep cuts spontaneously open on the soles of her feet. With no way to sit or relieve the pressure, she’s forced to stand and exacerbate the wounds.

“No, everything you did was for your benefit.” You stalk closer to the stake, Michael more than happy to let you have your moment. “I used to idolize you, you know? You were everything I hoped to become. And then I saw you for what you truly are: no better than your greedy, vain, power-hungry, bitch of a mother.”

“You can’t kill me,” Cordelia starts to laugh, “I’m your Supreme, you insolent girl. Do you truly believe that the coven will let you get away with this?”

“We already have,” Michael says haughtily from behind you. “Look around you, Cordelia. Your ‘coven’ has long-since accepted their places in this new world order: as our loyal subjects.”

“You attempted to murder one of your own. Who’s to say that you wouldn’t do the same to any of them?” You shoot a false-sympathetic look at Cordelia, almost pitying her for her naivety towards this situation.

Cordelia looks around, sure that, at any moment, her girls will rise up and free her. Surely, this must be some elaborate ruse, some long-conceived plan to save their Supreme? All Cordelia finds in the faces of the girls she once called ‘hers,’ however, is varying looks of disdain, apathy, and disgust.

A whine slips past her lips before she can catch it, and she closes her eyes tightly to avoid seeing the faces of those she once mentored as she’s burned alive. Her eyes are, of course, then forced open by your magic. She can’t even look away from you, frozen on your face as you smile softly and lean in so you’re mere inches away from her.

“I want my face to be the only thing you see as you die,” your voice drops to nearly a whisper, your smirk evident as you back up and rejoin hands with Michael. You hold up your hand, poised to snap into existence the spark that will end Cordelia’s life. “Anything else to add?”

“Mallory will put an end to this. When I die, she’ll assume the role of Supreme and rise to her destiny, which is to defeat the Antichrist,” Cordelia spits. To her shock, your laugh peals through the air.

“You really haven’t figured it out? I am the next Supreme. I would have thought that the raw power flowing off of me was enough of a clue, but I guess not,” you shrug. “And I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to Michael.”

“I do have one other thing to add, my love.” Michael smiles at you, before resuming his stone-cold demeanor to face Cordelia. “Give my regards to my father.”

The snap of your fingers seems to reverberate across the plane, Cordelia’s wailing following soon after. You can both feel it the moment her soul leaves her body, only yours is due to the influx of powers as one Supreme falls and another rises. Michael catches you in his arms as your knees buckle, your nose bleeding as your body taking a moment to get used to the immense power that flows through your veins. Michael smiles reassuringly when you look up at him, kissing you and taking pleasure in licking the blood off of your lips.

“Are you okay?” Michael asks.

“I wanna leave,” you mutter, eyes conveying just how difficult it’s been for you to put up this facade.

“Okay, let’s get out of here.” Michael would move the stars for you if asked, so fulfilling your request to leave this environment is far-too easy. With a curt nod to some of his followers, conveying that it’s their job to see the execution through, Michael takes your hand and disappears with you.

Michael doesn’t bring up the day’s events until much later, when you’ve both had a chance to decompress back home at the Sanctuary. You’re sitting at a vanity in the corner of your room, combing through your hair after your shower. When Michael comes in, holding two glasses of what you assume to be celebratory champagne, you smile.

“Hi,” you say quietly, turning your head to kiss him.

“Hi. I’m sorry about today.” You can hear the pain in his voice, and you frown.

“Don’t be, I’m the one who asked if I could do it.”

“Still, I should have known that this naturally would have been difficult for you.” Michael grabs your hand, pulling you up from your seat so that he can be sure you’re listening. “I’m proud of you, though.”

You can’t help but to scoff. “For what? Killing people?”

“No,” he says patiently, “for facing your demons.”

“Cordelia wasn’t--” even after all she’s put you through, you still find yourself automatically jumping to her defense. “How do you do it so effortlessly? Even in the Outpost, when I killed Ms. Venable, I still felt bad. She had done nothing but abuse me for eighteen months, and yet I was remorseful after I snapped her neck.”

“It’s because you have a conscience. You have a soul, that’s so bright and beautiful and complicated and you. Killing, my love, isn’t in your nature. Of course, you can do it when need be, but you’re not a monster like I am.”

“Don’t,” you say sternly, “you know I hate when you call yourself that.”

“Is it not true?” Michael retorts. “I’m a killer, (Y/N). I kill these people, and I feel nothing. Maybe some relief, or a sense of satisfaction, but nothing more. I killed almost all of the world’s population without blinking an eye, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. That’s what makes us so different.”

“But it’s also why we work so well together, isn’t it?” Taking the glasses of champagne from him, you place them on the table as his hands go to your hips.

“It’s why you’re my queen,” Michael concurs. A smirk spreads on your face, all thoughts of death and destruction gone in a mere second.

“Mhm, say it again?”

“My queen. My sweet, beautiful queen whom I adore to Hell and back again.” You giggle as Michael sweeps you into his arms, tossing you on the bed. “Nothing can harm us now, my queen. We’re unstoppable together.”

“We’ve conquered every obstacle we’ve faced, and we’ll continue to do so”

Michael begins to crawl towards you. “We won. This world is ours now, to see to it as we please.”

“There’s only one thing I want to see to right now,” you say suggestively, leaning back on your arms as he begins to lay over you.

“Why, you couldn’t be insinuating what I believe you are?” Michael says in mock-shock, and you bite your lip.

“Maybe...we christen this bed?” Michael’s lips finally meet yours, both of you humming contentedly.

“And after that, we christen the bathroom, and the other bedrooms, and my office…” With each new location, he kisses a different part of your face.

“The kitchen, and maybe the balcony as well,” you suggest, earning a kiss to your cleavage.

“Excellent ideas, but I feel as if those locales will have to wait for tomorrow.”

“Shame,” you muse quietly, allowing Michael to start tugging your dress off.

“A true shame,” Michael agrees lowly, nearly ripping your dress off of your body. In this moment, as you’re here with Michael and with no responsibilities, is one you’d like to bottle up and capture forever. “First…”

He gets up from the bed, leaving you frowning as he grabs the forgotten glasses of champagne and hands one to you.

“Setting the mood?” you tease.

“I believe a celebratory toast is in order.” Michael raises his glass, trying to think of a proper toast for this occasion. “To…”

“To…” you murmur as well, thinking for a moment. “To us, and the rest of our forever.” Michael nods, his wide smile making it almost impossible to kiss you.

“To the rest of our forever.”

Tag List: @sammythankyou @queencocoakimmie @girlycakepops @sebastianshoe @pastel-cloudz @nana15774 @lichellaw @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @everything-is-awesomesauce @ccodyfern @jimmlangdon @langdonsdemon @langdonslove @omgsuperstarg @nsainmoonchild @mrsnegan25

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #ahs #michael langdon x reader #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #michael langdon imagines #american horror story apocalypse

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confessions-heartland · 11 months

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"I don't understand why people thought Mallory would name her kid after Ty. Jack was the best choice. Ty was a guy she'd had a crush on for a while and who she didn't know for as long as she'd known Jack and who didn't have as big of an impact on her life as Jack. And Jack had an impact on Jake's life too."

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heartlandians · 1 year

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Heartland - 17x01 - The Path Less Traveled

#heartland #stills #season 17 #17x01 #EMT #jake anderson #jake church #mallory wells #jessica amlee #sully anderson #amy fleming #amber marshall #amy x mallory #amy x jake #jallory #jake x sully #mallory x sully #amy x sully

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coolkidstable · 5 years

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Sulli arrives at Warrior with Mallory Souliotis, Briana Mastel, and mom Jenna Rheault (1/12/2020)

Source: Michelle Jay

#jenna rheault #mallory souliotis #briana mastel #boston pride #nwhl #pride #dogs #sulli

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mercuriial · 4 years

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favourite people in town? are they the same people you trust the most?

ROSIE: lou, sasha, mallory ( and juniper ) ! i would DIE for all of these women, so yeah, safe to say i trust ‘em. sid and casey are honorable mentions, though.

SEBASTIAN: uh, nobody ? i guess sully and ethan would make the list.

#ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳˢ —* 🩸。∘ ⊱ / SEBASTIAN AMER.#ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳˢ —* 🐚 。∘ ⊱ / ROSEMARY ADLER.#Anonymous

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firsnotfurs · 5 years

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Ma Mallory ;; Headcanon

Ask anyone where the Mallory’s are from & you’ll be pointed to the Rift. Where the terrible trio of siblings spent most of their childhoods in & around Riften -- with the younger pair making their own way only after surpassing adulthood. However ; to the far north, further still than Solitude, of Haafingar Hold there remains a parcel of land along the Sea of Ghosts belonging to the Mallory’s.

It was their Mother’s name.

Their father, a nord sailor, & hadn’t any of his own, took on his wife’s surname once they’d wed & settled the land. They’d met on his travels -- docking at High Rock where they’d met by chance. & by chance they were fortunate enough to continue finding one another. Knowing he couldn’t rely on the routes of his merchant’s ship to remain consistent he prompted her with a significant offer to join him -- to take his hand & settle down in his homeland. Smitten, she agrees. A decision she never does regret.

Delvin was their first born. Taking after his mother with his fair hair & warm eyes. Glover follows -- seven years later. Darker hair & darker eyes, taking after their father. & it is a content existence they lived in these years. Pa was seldom home, often at sea, but he supported his family -- sending them home letters, money, & gifts. While Ma largely spent her time rearing the two boys & maintaining their home & savings ; occasionally bookkeeping for the East Empire Company.

A soft spoken & critically private woman. Her wit was unmatched & she boasted the stubbornness of a mule -- carrying herself well in trips to the market & docks of the nearby city. They kept to themselves, she & the boys, & found herself a consistent stranger in Solitude even as the years passed. It was no mind to her. They got on well enough. & so she occupies her time teaching them. Delvin, as the eldest, was her primary student. An eager learn & quick to pick up numbers, Delvin, & all his current clients, have her to thank for his initial education. One he never would have received under Grelod’s care alone.

Homecoming’s from their father were rare moments of celebration. A smarmy bloke with a knack for mischief -- the life of a sailor kept him sated & the family coffers secure ; but it was this same life that stole him away.

The letters stop coming. As does the money & gifts. & her menstrual cycle.

Robyn Mallory is the third & final child. Born as Delvin reaches his twelfth year & as their Mother comes to terms with her grief. Their father never meets this, their first daughter. Never had the chance to know. His fate unknown & death never confirmed, rampant rumors of abandonment festered in his absence. The validity of the Mallory daughter’s ‘true’ fathering doubted heavily in Ma’s, now more frequent, trips to Solitude. It was no mind to her. They would get on well enough. For now. She begins selling her husband’s gifts. Delvin wonders why.

He hears the merchants. Wondering how she came upon such exotic trinkets. He sees the eyes that follow them. Gifts, his mother explains, from her husband. On a sailors salary ? The man scrutinizes. They do not buy anything from the market that day. Delvin feels hungry. He keeps it to himself.

It started small. Well before Robyn was born. The hunger. The little wants. The little questions. Why would she sit for hours on end ... ? Running through the same numbers & math. Why did she begin skipping meals ? Once a day. Twice. Why would men shout & beckon her to them as they passed by ? Why did she look so disgusted each time ?

The birth of her final child marks the beginning of her end.

Delvin was a clever boy, helpful & attentive, but he hadn’t had any chance of understanding. Or preparing. Taking on primary care of Glover & aiding his mother best he could as her health continued to fail. They’d return to the markets. & the rumors would follow them. Becoming more cruel as the family’s situation grew more dire. The coffers had emptied. As had the pantry. Reputable merchants refused to buy her trinkets for fear they were stolen. Desperate, she sells through a fence. Rumors multiply on how she provides for three on her own. & still she persists. Seeking more work through the East Empire Company, her sullied reputation leaves for sore remarks from previously reliable employers. Soon after, there are no more gifts to sell.

It was a dismal thing, watching her fade. It was slow. Steady. Illnesses began to linger. Her mind foggy from hunger. As she denied herself & gave instead to her children. Thief. Whore. It was no mind to her. She could no longer hear it.

As Delvin reaches his thirteenth year his mother, gradually, becomes bed bound. He can’t place the month or date. Or the final instance which kept her bound there & ultimately takes her in the night. Ultimately. It didn’t matter. There was no singular factor ; but a continuous spiral of ails & denied mercy.

Delvin had gone to the city alone, her final days, seeking medicine or healing’s. Charities denied by all due to lack of funds or even ... distance to the home. He found bitter irony in it. How they had come only when he returns with news of her passing. Come to collect her corpse ; long gone cold & far from any hope of revival. A service, apparently, free of charge & no longer too far out of the way.

Delvin had always been a quick learn. & so he learns to persist. As his mother had.

#;;ooc #;;long post #;;headcanon #can u believe i got thru this whole thing w/out name dropping ma & pa once ?#it's because i'm indecisive so i opted out sh shh ssh #anyways ma mallory's death was 100% preventable had she gotten the nutrition & help she needed #& i'm a god damn wreck

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solplparty · 2 years

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BTS (방탄소년단) 'Yet To Come (The Most Beautiful Moment)' Official MV https://youtu.be/kXpOEzNZ8hQ 'Yet To Come (The Most Beautiful Moment)' Official MV Premiere Day!🥳 Pre-release Listening Party begins: 🔗 https://youtu.be/QhRM-X9kqFs 📆 6/10, 12:46PM (KST) | 6/9, 11:46PM (ET) Special Countdown for MV begins: 📆 6/10, 12:59PM (KST) | 6/9, 11:59PM (ET) "Pre-release Listening Party"가 종료되면 자동으로 MV 페이지로 이동하여 스페셜 카운트다운과 MV를 이어서 보실 수 있습니다. 해당 기능을 사용하시려면 플레이어에서 "자동재생" 기능을 사용으로 설정해주세요. 기능이 꺼져��으면 자동으로 페이지가 이동되지 않습니다. After "Pre-release Listening Party" ends, you'll be automatically redirected to the MV page where you can watch the MV right after the special countdown. Make sure you turn on "auto-play" on the player. When auto-play is turned off, it won't be redirected to the MV page. Credits: Director: Yong Seok Choi (Lumpens) 1st AD: Jihye Yoon (Lumpens) 2nd AD: Ran Ro (Lumpens) Director of Photography: Nam Hyunwoo (MOTHER) B Camera Operator: Eumko Focus Puller: Kim Eunki, Lee Youngwoo 2nd AC: Youngseo Park, Eunil Lee Production Company: OUT OF OFFICE CO Executive Producer / Producer: Tiffany Suh Production Supervisor: Sina Pars Assistant Production Supervisor: Linda Nhem Assistant Production Supervisor / Travel Coordinator: Emily Diaz Travel Coordinator: Veronica Zin 1st AD: Jesse Hays 2nd AD: Mallory Chevalier Location Manager: Laura Dominguez Location Assistant: Ana Reyes Site Rep: John Miller 1st AC: Victor Chon 2nd AC: Massy Valenzuela-Castaneda Drone: Alex Castillo DIT: Jack Damon Technocrane: Maurico Rodriguez, Harrison Reilly, Erik Covarrubias VTR / Playback: Avery Stone Fish VTR Assistant: Jeffery Petro Playback: Kai Morrison Gaffer: Kyle Bryson Best Boy Electric: Mark Mann Electric: Anthony Ortiz, Gerardo “Junior” Lara, Andrew Lopez Key Grip: Wadsworth Peters Best Boy Grip: Blake Danchik Grip: Richard Estrella, James Brazil Production Designer: Olivia McManus Art Director: Hensel Martinez Art Coordinator: Sara Barrett Prop Mater / Shopper: Amanda Hume Leadman: Logan Blue Set Dresser: Kyle Kaminsky Dresser / Driver: Kris Ingram Greens: Brooke Benko, Nina Gonzales School Bus Transportation: Marlon Sosa Gang Boss: Rob Newcombe Moho Drivers: Stephen Hinze, Kevin Kasner, Rich Seitz, James “Bubba” Bottoni Stunt Coordinator: Nhan Vo Craft Services: Danny Tilbury, Vic Godales Set Medic: Dan DeBaun CCM: Matt Moss CCA: Niko Galvez, Kasee Shambora Local Artist Security: Samuel Ford, Sully Crew, Raul Estevane, Pete Mulryan PA: Adam Rosenberg, Joe Vizzini, Jason Vizzini, AJ, EJ Smith, Allen Amehi, Isiah Quince, Chris Fambro, Naushay Turner, Dariana Fly Buchatska, Cathy Kim, Ashley Lee, Bianca Yi, So Yun Um, Iris Jang, Sunny Park, Austin Barrett, Hollis Dohr, Jacqueline Nytes, Anna Tancredi, Sierra Badua, Dani Calderon DI: LUCID COLOUR COLORIST: Wonseok Ko DI CREW: Jaeyeon Baek, Dain Kim, Serae Hong DI PRODUCER: Sooyun Hyun VFX: PLASTIC BEACH VFX Supervisor: OHZEON VFX Producer: Geoung Jeong, Ahn Sohyun 3D Artist: Kim Doyeon, Jeon Jiwon, Kim Dongjin, Kim Hyeji, Lee Jeonghwa 2D Artist: Lee Hyunjun, Jang Kyutae FX Artist: We Jungin, Kim Yumin Concept Art: San Goh Special thanks to San Bernardino County Film Office BIGHIT MUSIC. Rights are reserved selectively in the video. Unauthorized reproduction is a violation of applicable laws. Manufactured by BIGHIT MUSIC, Seoul, Korea. Connect with BTS: https://ibighit.com/bts http://twitter.com/BTS_bighit http://twitter.com/BTS_twt http://www.facebook.com/bangtan.official https://www.youtube.com/user/BANGTANTV http://instagram.com/BTS.bighitofficial https://channels.vlive.tv/FE619 https://www.tiktok.com/@bts_official_bighit https://weverse.onelink.me/qt3S/94808190 https://www.weibo.com/BTSbighit https://www.weibo.com/BTSmembers http://i.youku.com/btsofficial http://btsblog.ibighit.com #BTS #방탄소년단 #YetToCome #BTS_Proof #TheMostBeautifulMoment HYBE LABELS

#하이브 레이블 #HYBE LABELS #빅히트 #Big Hit #빅히트 레이블 #Big Hit Labels #빅히트 엔터테인먼트 #Big Hit Entertainment #소속사

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