#sieglinde

[the-evil-clergyman]

La Révélation, Brünnhilde découvrant Sieglinde et Siegmund by Gaston Bussière (1894)

[littlemoondarlingarts]

Didn't realize requests were open!! If you are so inclined, would you be game to draw Lizzy and/or Sieglinde 👀👀 I think either of them would be so precious and perfect in your style!!!!

Awweee!!!! Thank you so much!! You're always so kind and seeing you on my dash is always so pleasant! Sorry I took a while with this! But the girlies are finally here!

[nottherailtracer]

Part 5 vol. 3 done. The one in which Rozemyne has had enough and drags everyone kicking and screaming into communicating clearly. Heisshitze finally learned he fucked up, Lestilaut’s mom really gave his fanart of Rozemyne to Rozemyne to punish him, Lueuradi and Muriella became Rozemyne x Ferdinand (Ferdimyne? Rozenand?) shippers and Oswald became an anti, Rozemyne herself is once again an ace mood inventing crushes to fit in, Detlinde is the worst and any sympathy I ever felt for her is null an void and I would like to bitch slap her.

[opera-ghosts]

„WALKÜRE“ R. Wagner / FIRST ACT

Some Sieglindes, Siegmunds and Hundings

Maria Müller (29 January 1898 – 15 March 1958); Czech-Austrian lyric/dramatic soprano, Emanuel List (22 March 1888 - 21 June 1967; Austrian-American bass and Franz Völker (31 March 1899 – 4 December 1965); dramatic tenor, Bayreuth, 1933

Maria Müller as Sieglinde, Bayreuth, 1937

Martha Leffler-Burckhardt (16 June 1865 -14 May 1954); German soprano as Sieglinde, Bayreuth, 1908

Rose Pauly-Dressen (15 March 1894 – 14 December 1975); Hungarian dramatic soprano as Sieglinde, Frankfurt, ?

Martha Selle as Sieglinde, Breslau, ?

Florence Easton (25 October 1882 – 13 August 1955); English dramatic soprano as Sieglinde, Berlin, ?

Marie Thoma as Sieglinde, Schwerin, ?

Elvira Herz as Sieglinde, Berlin, ?

Adolf Gröbke ? (26.5.1872 -16.9.1949); German tenor as Siegmund, Rotterdam, ?

Lauritz Melchior (20 March 1890 – 18 March 1973); Danish-American heldentenor as Siegmund, Bayreuth, 1924, 1925 and 1931

Fiorenzo Tasso (1901 - 29. 3. 1976); French tenor as Siegmund, Milan, 1945

Carl Braun (2 June 1886 – 24 April 1960); German bass as Hunding, Bayreuth, 1925, 1927, 1928 and 1930

Lorenz Corvinus (20 July 1870 - 18 January 1952); German bass as Hunding, Bayreuth, 1908

[blondeaxolotl]

What animal is Sieglinde in the beastars au ?

Sieglinde is a chinchilla! And Wolfram is a lion!

[aubdrewanchel]

AoB HC: Rasantark, Kenntrips and Sieglinde are no. 1 LestiMyne shipers.

[blackbutlercharacterpoll2023]

Sieglinde Sullivan

[illustratus]

The Revelation (Brünnhilde discovering Sieglinde and Siegmund) - La Révélation (Brunehilde découvrant Sieglinde et Siegmund)

by Gaston Bussière

[astralcamellia]

Art Highlights of 2019

the non-fandom / original story edition

[bobdobalina]

an observation from Nov 27, 2020

Today's Wagner insight is that the final moments of Walküre Act I and Siegfried Act I are nearly identical. In both cases, the heroic tenor (first Siegmund, then his son Siegfried) has finally gotten his hands on the sword that was promised to him, Nothung, which has lain dormant for years awaiting its worthy owner, and he holds it up in celebration.

To nearly the exact same melody, Siegmund sings "So blühe denn Wälsungen-Blut!" ("so thrives the bloodline of the Wälsungs!") and a generation later, Siegfried (who is the final product of that bloodline) sings "So schneidet Siegfrieds Schwert!" ("so slices the sword of Siegfried!").

The furiously-playing orchestra falls briefly, dramatically silent to allow the hero to hit these money notes, playing only three key chords. For Siegmund, it's Em-B7-Em (i-V7-i) — he is reclaiming something old that was promised to him, so the music returns to its home key, in perhaps the most classically satisfying cadence of resolution. Whereas for Siegfried, who has melted down the shards of his broken inheritance and literally reforged it into a new sword, the orchestra pivots to a new, major, key: Em-A7-D. He is like his father, but he is not his father.

In both cases, after the tenor's moment of glory, the orchestra comes roaring back ("furiously," "as fast as possible"), with brass using the third chord to launch into the Sword motif, while the characters celebrate orgasmically and the curtain falls. The characters who began the opera stuck in miserable situations have discovered a way out, fulfilling old prophecies and conquering their first obstacles — oblivious to the problems that have already been set in motion and will ultimately spell their doom. It's the perfect way to end a first act.

[ofgreatart]

Jeannine Altmeyer: O radiant wonder! Thou bring'st me, true one, holiest balm! be blest in Sieglinde’s woe!

Paul Valéry: 'It has been 50 years since I cannot tire of this extraordinary magnificence'

Paul Valéry: “In Wagner - I never admire enough the incomparable sequence of themes, situations - and their combinations or deductions from the entire third act of Valkyrie. It has been 50 years since I cannot tire of this extraordinary magnificence that generates. - All the plans of passion and action and the transitions from one to the other - at the temperature of the "Sublime” - Everything works. And one finds, unheard of, - the changes of state of the “characters” as a function of the flow of sonic energy - which is like a sap to them, a reason for being, manifests through them, opposes itself, becomes anger, tenderness, will, so much so that… the “thought” (supposed) becomes one of the variables of this life of the work’s system! It is the triumph of total possession of the means and forces applied to an absolutely known purpose.“ (Paul Valéry, Notebooks, II, page 980)

Video:

The Ring of the Nibelung Bayreuth 1979, Patrice Chéreau / Pierre Boulez Jeannine Altmeyer: Sieglinde Gwyneth Jones: Brünnhilde

Brünnhilde (She takes the pieces of Sigmund’s sword from under her breastplate and gives them to Sieglinde.) For him ward thou well the mighty splinters; from his father’s death-field by good hap I saved them: who once shall swing the sword new wrought, his name from me let him take— Siegfried in triumph shall live!

Sieglinde (deeply moved) O radiant wonder! Glorious maid! Thou bring'st me, true one, holiest balm! For him whom we loved I save the beloved one: may my thanks yet bring laughing reward! Fare thou well! be blest in Sieglinde’s woe! (She hastens away on the right in front.) (Black thunderclouds surround the height; a fearful storm approaches from the back: a growing fiery light on the right.)

German: Sieglinde O hehrstes Wunder! Herrlichste Maid! Dir Treuen dank’ ich heiligen Trost! Für ihn, den wir liebten, rett’ ich das Liebste: meines Dankes Lohn lache dir einst! Lebe wohl! dich segnet Sieglindes Weh’!

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Soma: you know, I have a little brother, his name is Ciel :D

Sieglinde: oh wow!

Sieglinde: do you have a little sister too??

Soma, pouting: nooooo...

Sieglinde: awww.

Sieglinde: well, I have a big brother

Soma: oh vaah!! what's his name?

Sieglinde: Soma!

Soma:

Soma:

Soma:

Soma, immediately lifting her up and spinning her around: OH MY GODS I HAVE A LITTLE SISTER!!!!!!

[apenitentialprayer]

(Top) The Revelation: Brunhilde Seeing Siegmund and Sieglinde, painting by Gaston Bussiere. (Bottom) The Annunciation, oil on panel painting by Mike Moyers.

Brünnhilde urges Sieglinde to flee to the east, to be brave and defiant, and to put up with all dangers —hunger and thirst, thorns and rocks— to laugh, whatever her distress and suffering. One thing will sustain her. In her womb she is carrying the noblest hero in the world. She should keep for him the fragments of the sword, collected from the place of his father's death. He will forge them anew and, one day, will wield the sword. Brünnhilde gives the unborn child his name: 'Siegfried' — 'Peace Through Victory'. With great emotion, Sieglinde hails this sublime miracle and praises Brünnhilde as the most glorious of women. She thanks her, and promises that she will save the dear child for him whom they loved. With a parting blessing, the unfortunate Sieglinde hurries away.

Richard Wagner's Die Walküre, set to English prose by Peter Bassett. Bolded emphasis added.

If Brünnhilde's appearance to the doomed Siegmund in Act Two was an annunciation of death, her message to Sieglinde in Act Three must surely be an annunciation of life. There is an obvious parallel with the angel's annunciation to the Virgin Mary that she will bear a son and shall call him Jesus. This is hardly a coincidence. Siegfried will be a hero in a legendary sense because he will be fearless, kill the dragon[,] and win the ring. But he is already a hero or, if you like, a deliverer, in a philosophical sense, in that he symbolizes hope and life amidst hopelessness and decay. Just as Mary fled into Egypt to protect the infant Jesus from the wrath of Herod, so Sieglinde flees into the forest to protect the unborn Siegfried from the wrath of Wotan. The Christ/Siegfried parallel was referred to by Wagner in his essay Die Wibelungen of 1848, as was a conceptual link between the Nibelung hoard and the Holy Grail. And incidentally, in 1849, one year after writing his prose sketch for a Nibelung drama, Wagner sketched out a five act tragedy called Jesus of Nazareth. Nothing came of this, but it is not too fanciful to see how aspects of the Gospel story might have fertilised his poetic treatment of the story of Siegfried. The poem (as he called the libretto) of Die Walküre was written only a couple of years later. At the mention of her son's name, Sieglinde's spirits soar ecstatically. O hehrstes Wunder! —O sublime miracle!— she sings, and proceeds with her own Magnificat, praising Brünnhilde for being the bearer of such news, and vowing to save the infant 'for him whom we loved', that is, for Siegmund. The motif which expresses the words O hehrstes Wunder! is sometimes known by the title 'redemption through love'. Wagner called it 'the glorification of Brünnhilde' and 'the theme in praise of Brünnhilde'. We hear this motif for the first time with Sieglinde's words, and we shall hear it only once more, in the closing bars of Götterdämmerung. It will become the very last musical idea of The Ring. Whatever The Ring's ultimate message is to be, there can be no doubt Brünnhilde will have a central role in proclaiming it.

- Peter Bassett (The Nibelung’s Ring: A Guide to Wagner’s Der Ring Des Nibelungen, pages 77). Italics original, bolded emphases added; slightly reformatted paragraphs to avoid walls of text.

[just-purse]

My First Black Butler FanFic Ever

Hello guys! It's been awhile! I wrote a Black Butler fanfic with @abybweisse it is set before what could be the final face off after Sebastian got severely injured, and the servants finds out his true nature.

Reading Links

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14130719/1/Before-The-End

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41434659

Have fun! I'm planning to write more Black Butler fanfic too, feel free to inbox me if you want to join!

PS. I edited out Sebastian/Ciel and Soma/Ciel on AO3. Soma & O!Ciel's friendship along with Sebastian & O!Ciel's ending contract is the highlight of the story. I don't ship them together, and I am strongly against pedophile ship.

[sunlight-maggot]

“Let me in.” - Siegmeyer of Catarina

[incensuous]

SIGNY & SIGMUND / PART 2

read on ao3

retelling of the Volsung saga, centered on the twins, with extremely creative liberties. yes, i’m updating this after like 3 years lol :’D no one cares about this anymore

for a general backstory on the myth, as my aim is not to simply retell the myth: here

rating: T for parts 1, 2. will be E for part 3

ii. wedding

In her twenty years, Signy had always had little tolerance for fools—and King Siggeir of Gautland, was no exception. In preparation for his arrival, he demanded not only hospitality from the Volsungs but her own hand in marriage. Yet, she also understood when she had to play politics.

The Volsungs did not fear Siggeir, yet she and their family knew quite well of his formidable army. While Signy had no doubt their kingdom would emerge victorious facing the Swedish oaf, she also knew the Volsungs would not escape unscathed—and might not even survive at all.

Her father had agreed upon the marriage offer, yet when King Siggeir personally arrived at their castle, Signy recognized the cruelty in his eyes.

The rest of the Volsungs did not feel the same. While her family expressed sympathy for her fate, they only saw Siggeir as a boorish man instead of the true malevolence, and regardless, Signy knew their thoughts on the matter. Better to sacrifice one than all. And she agreed, even as she loathed the look on Siggeir’s face.

The only one who spoke out was Sigmund. He’d not been pleased even before Siggeir had arrived. His brows knitted together and he frowned deeply. “I will not give my sister to this evil man. I would rather us all go down fighting with the Hall of the Branstock flaming above our heads.”

King Volsung sighed, knowing his youngest would give him the most grief over this decision. However, they had honor to uphold and he would not sacrifice their kingdom and innocent lives if he could avoid it. Vikings were no cravens, but unnecessary bloodshed should be left to beasts and fools, and he was neither.

“Our word is given to him. Signy has agreed and hers is the only approval I require,” he declared, staring down at his son, who fumed at Signy’s side.

The wedding day came too quickly. Preparations had taken months, starting well before Siggeir’s arrival at Branstock, and came to fruition beautifully. Signy only wished she could have appreciated the grandeur. Her childhood home rarely looked quite this radiant.

Signy’s own wedding gown had been elaborately woven day and night by their most talented seamstresses, with the heavy fabric draping and bodice fitting her frame to perfection. Even she, who had never had any particular fondness of dresses, could appreciate the sublime work of the cape and metalwork detailing, traditional of a Volsung bride.

Einar had found her before the feast had started, surveying the preparations, as was her duty, with an unreadable expression. He held her arm in comfort, and she glanced at him, face still guarded, as he knew she never was with Sigmund.

“I always teased you, you’d step on our faces if Branstock burned to save Sigmund,” Einar raised a hand to calm her immediate protests, and he smiled at her, “but Sigmund would light Branstock aflame himself if it would mean protecting a hair on your head. We are not far behind him. We will not allow harm to come to you, Sister.”

Her eldest brother had meant to console her, but it had not soothed her nerves. It was not her future husband Signy feared, instead the feeling deep in her bones, telling her this night would be the beginning of something terrible.

At the feast, the sole Volsung daughter sat stiffly at King Siggeir’s right, with her twin on her other side.

In the midst of the festivities, Signy heard the heavy, wooden doors of their hall open. She felt a chill run down her spine, and she initially dismissed the feeling, assuming the winds were especially powerful that night.

Her instincts had not failed her—a robed stranger entered, as the doors swung shut. He was exceptionally large, standing taller than even her father.

Per tradition, Volsung graciously offered a horn of mead to the newcomer and invited him to sit at the table and join the feast.

The stranger only shook his head and instead reached under his blue cloak and presented a broadsword, exquisitely crafted. The entire cacophonous hall fell hushed.

In a magnificent display, the man pierced the massive trunk of the oak tree in the center of the hall with the blade and declared to all present, “The sword is fated for the person who can draw it out of the Child Trunk.”

Any who dared make the attempt lined up at the base of the Branstock. Siggeir made his way to the front, and none chose to deny the King. He heaved, face turning red from exertion, until it was made clear the sword was not meant to be his.

He stepped back, haughtily, and seated himself back at Signy’s side. His dark eyes stayed on the gleaming hilt, watching each person make their attempt.

Signy’s brothers all lined up, oldest to youngest, for their chance as well. She was not sure what to expect, if any of them would even be able to budge the fated weapon.

At last, it was Sigmund’s turn. After so many volunteers, the hall was restless to see who would be so deserving.

With one glorious pull, her twin brother clasped his hand around the hilt and the Branstock let loose its prize for Sigmund to raise it above his head, for all to witness.

The hall burst into cheers, proud of their Viking champion. All lifted their horns and drank to Sigmund, the youngest of the Volsung progeny, and so deserving of a gift bestowed by the gods.

“Sigmund!” Siggeir suddenly bellowed, standing up.

Sigmund cast his gaze to his newly decreed brother-in-law. “Brother,” he forced out in reply. Signy knew of the hatred Sigmund had for her now husband, but as much as he protested in private, he would never shame her nor their father at such an important celebration.

Siggeir grinned widely. “That sword is truly befitting of a fine, young man as yourself. I could find you something even more suitable. Gold as far as you can see, Sigmund—”

“Brother,” Sigmund cut in, the address cold, “we have traditions to uphold. We must never reject nor give away a gift granted to us. I am to keep this sword as I have been chosen to do. Only one who has defeated me in battle may lay claim to it.”

Siggeir’s face twisted into a scowl, and he had nothing more to say to her twin.

Sigmund’s cold eyes slid from the king to Signy, beside him, softening immediately. He raises the weapon once more. “This blade will be known as Nothung. To my sister and her husband, I would use it to defend you until my dying breath,” he declared, demeanor clearly belying his vows were for Signy and Signy alone, though none would dare publicly accuse him of such favoritism.

Signy gave him a knowing smile, a look passing between the two of them, as she lifted her horn and drank in acceptance of his vow.

-

It was a full year after their marriage before Siggeir would invite his in-laws to visit the Swedish kingdom Signy was obligated to call home.

Without a formal invitation, she had had no opportunity to see her kin. Instead, they kept in touch through writing. Sigmund wrote most frequently, along with a handful of correspondences from her other brothers and parents. Signy could not deny she was terribly homesick.

She grew to tolerate Siggeir, even as she understood his true nature. For his worth, he had not proved to be a terribly cruel husband, but Signy knew, by instinct, to never trust him.

So, while she was elated at the chance to see her blood relatives, she became immediately wary when he had suggested the reunion.

On the day of their arrival, she donned a heavy, hooded cloak, and snuck out to meet them at the harbor, unknown to her husband. She took care to not be seen by servants—she did not know who she could trust, if any, in those castle walls.

As she approached the dock, she saw the faces of her older brothers from afar. They appeared unnerved as she drew near, with her hood settled over her eyes. She did not begrudge their hesitation. It had been a full year since they last saw her, and the cloak hid most of her from view as she had intended.

“Signy!” a familiar cry rang out.

The youngest Volsung took long, nearly sprinting, strides towards her.

In spite of herself, Signy could not help the grin spreading on her lips.

“Sigmund,” she answered, in a far softer tone.

Their other brothers raised their brows in shock, not expecting their sister to come welcome them in such a guise.

When he reached her, her twin lifted and spun her into a fierce hug, immediately.

“How did you recognize me?” Signy tittered, delighted to see familiar faces. She had felt well and truly alone in the foreign land and castle. Later, she would be able to tell Sigmund truths she had refrained from breathing to anyone, in fear Siggeir would catch wind of her restlessness.

Sigmund scoffed, after kissing her cheek. “I have known you since before we took our first breaths in this world. Do you think some fabric would hide you from me?”

“Our brothers were fooled,” Signy whispered, just before their ten siblings came within earshot.

“You know I am not them.” Sigmund gave her a wry smile, before allowing her to properly greet the others.

If the gods had been more merciful, perhaps they would have whispered sweet words into Signy’s ears to truly savor these moments with her family.