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harpers-tartarus · 1 day

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Just for the purpose of making it easier for people to read Sel's accent, I've switched mostly back to plain english. The only times it'll be more phonetic in terms of writing the accent will be when she gets riled up.

Thank you so fucking much for the chapter, yes i already finished, yes i commented on ao3 but i also wanted to do it here lol, i dont know how to feel except that i want to read the whole fic again and that i didn't understand anything that Selenar say (but that's my fault, english is not my first language) ANYWAY thank you and i love you take care of you 💖💖💖

Oh no! I didn't think about that! So here's what she said in the chapter with the accent removed:

There was a woman just…standing there, watching everything happening and doing nothing. Hooded in black with a watch dangling from a chain hooked to her belt, loudly ticking each second away.

“Why aren't you doing anything?” she demanded, the more pressing issue than who exactly she was.

She grumbled her annoyance into the grass. “What the fuck?” she demanded emphatically.

The woman tutted again. “I did warn you. You don’t interrupt the Name-Earning. You don’t interrupt the Death-Making.”

That made her go still. Of course, she was familiar with that trial. She’d undergone it herself when she was just shy of her first century, it was how she became known as the Wild Hunt, not just as its leader.

“She’s just a child!” Selenar was aghast. It was unheard of for someone to undergo the trial at Hope’s age.

“What’re you doing in the forge?” she asked when she finally set her sights on the girl. “And what on earth are you wearing?”

The fire was roaring and Hope had forgone a shirt, likely out of fear that the billowing sleeves would catch fire, but that left her in just a chest binding which looked a sight; a sort of welder’s mask that was vaguely bird-like, hiding her face from view, trousers made for a man that were only held up by the exceedingly tight belt she had at her waist.

“I don’t want to catch fire,” Hope complained, words muffled behind the mask.

“That’s going to impede your breathing.” Selenar countered. “You have to bind properly, Sev, I keep telling—” And then she faltered and gritted her teeth together, looking away, blinking fiercely.

Sev’ildan wasn’t here. She was alone, far from her brothers, too far to help them if they got into trouble.

“Your brother binds his chest?” Hope asked carefully, lifting the mask so that Selenar could see her face, smeared with soot and gunpowder.

She sighed. “He used to. Sev was…born with the wrong body. His human family was less accepting of that than most, tried to fix him, send him to this camp on your world… it was barbaric, that they thought they could just make him think he was a girl and that would fix everything.” Selenar looked up and Hope’s expression was painfully soft and understanding; heat burned in her eyes.

Selenar offered her hands to Hope. “I can fix it, if you like.” She didn’t reach out to fix it immediately like a human would’ve, without any concern for her carefully constructed boundaries, Selenar was better than that.

It was only after Hope gave a single nod that she reached out and carefully loosened the binding, retying it securely so that her breasts were still protected, but no longer that breathing was impeded.

Hope expanded her lungs tentatively. “Thanks,” she said after a moment.

“What’re you making?” Selenar asked instead.

“Making bullets, mostly,” Hope admitted. “I found an old rifle in the armory that I’m going to make some advancements to…and there was this pair of flintlock pistols that I’m going to clean up and make one into a crossbow.”

The first question she had was ‘why not just make more crossbow bolts for a ready-made crossbow?’ that would’ve been simpler, but then a new question came.

“Why are you making weapons?”

“Hey?” Selenar nearly screeched. “What in the name of the Great Mother—!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, happens a lot,” Hope disparaged.

“It does?” Selenar’s pitch rose high. “What—”

“It’s a total bitch, coming back,” Hope continued over her, cracking her neck loud enough that Selenar winced, “but I’m unable to be murdered, which is a good gift, I guess, when people want to kill me as much as they do.”

Selenar was staring at her, uncommonly heartbroken. She stayed with her the whole day, keeping an eye on her, wincing when things went wrong, and then waiting for her to pick herself back up and start anew. And she when fired a shot that didn’t blow up in her face, but did splinter a tree explosively, she whirled around to meet Selenar’s eyes, her own bright and victorious and Selenar thought this was the godling that Sylvar was always meant to protect and her icy heart began to melt and beat again.

“You're learning the sword,” Selenar told Hope the next day while she was working on a new set of bullets. They were clearly for the rifle and not the pepperbox pistol -which after watching Hope go between the different guns for hours, Selenar had become partial to-, longer and with an eerie red sheen. Hope had swiped at her bloody nose and grinned reckless and feral and something had knotted in her chest.

“I was always told that I do better from a distance,” Hope mused, “that swords didn’t suit me.”

Selenar’s eyebrow twitched. “You're learning the sword,” she repeated in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Just because you can survive the damage doesn't mean you need to be forced to take it,” she reminded her. “Draw up your arm and guard.”

And then she struck hard and fast, enough that her healing shoulders pulled and ached.

“Admittedly, not much,” Selenar conceded, tongue between her teeth as she attempted to tune a lute that she’d found in an abandoned home just out of something to do with her fingers. “The queen likes to keep that closer to her chest, and it’s not as though there's many other people to ask.”

“Is it taboo or something?” Hope asked with a furrowed brow.

“Not quite, but it’s always plain that the topic is uncomfortable.”

Hope pursed her lips thoughtfully. “So, she wouldn’t have told you about how to get on and off the world, then.” It wasn’t really a question.

Selenar concurred with a nod. “I can't imagine that she would’ve told anyone…well, anyone except Carman.”

“Carman?” The name struck a chord with Hope, a familiarity that she couldn’t place after all the months on Fillory. “Why does that name sound familiar?” It was a question mostly towards herself rather than Selenar, but she received an answer nonetheless.

“You’ve heard of Morrigan’s sister?” Selenar was startled.

Hope snapped her fingers. “Oh, yeah! The Mad God! Cliodhna’s mother, yeah, Phogra told me about her.”

“Oh, good,” Selenar sagged, “you know about that…sorry, it’s just, she’s your grandmother.”

“Oh.” Hope blinked. She hadn’t really considered that, it had always felt as though she was someone far removed from her, not the woman that had given birth to the woman that had in turn given birth to her. “Yeah,” she said finally, “I guess she is.”

Selenar grimaced. “I know that your very close with Thanatos, but did he ever tell you about his human lover?”

“Carman was the lover that Adelaide wanted to free from the Fox.”

The words hit like a snowball to the face and Hope couldn’t help but gape at Selenar, unable to comprehend the words she was hearing. “What?” she said bleakly. “But that means…”

That means that both sides of her family had come together before.

“Fuck me, honestly,” she said, making Selenar choke on laughter. “This is not a winning combo, clearly.”

Selenar’s mouth twitched. “It has its merits.”

Hope cast an annoyed look her way. “Anyways,” she huffed, “so Morrigan locked the Beast within Carman and…also locked her away, right? That’s what Phogra says.”

She glanced down to her feet, where the god still slept in her shadow.

Selenar had no idea how she allowed that. The idea of being so close to a god made her skin itch. Morrigan was different, of course, but Morrigan didn’t stay in her shadow.

“Locked away in the Castle at the End of the World.”

“That’s dramatic,” Hope muttered.

“Drama is a requirement in your family,” Selenar replied. “It’s not quite a prison, at least, not in appearance, but it was commissioned by Calypso, surely you’ve heard her name.”

That gave Hope pause, lifting her head from where she was scrawling the details down in a book, mouth gaping. “You’re not serious,” she said, positively aghast. “The nymph that kept Odysseus for, what, ten years?”

“The very same,” Selenar agreed. “She called it the greatest commission of her career, built to contain even the most dangerous of monsters, even ones of godly proportions. Even ones like Him.” She shuddered, a flicker of fear casting across her face, making Hope twitch nervously; Selenar was so fearless that the idea of anything scaring her made her nervous. “Castle Blackspire, she called it.”

The words caught in Hope’s mind. “Wait, Castle Blackspire? That’s something!”

“No, it’s not, because, clearly, your Castle is called Whitespire and there isn’t another one in Fillory, I checked the maps—” Since Selenar had been able to walk upright, she’d scoured all the maps in the library to be sure.

“On this side, you mean,” Hope corrected, nearly gleeful.

Selenar arched an eyebrow, incomprehension plain. “Sorry?”

“On this side, there’s no Castle Blackspire,” Hope explained, hands waving in excitement. “Okay, so I read all the Fillory books when Lipson and Quinn compared my magic to the Virgo Blade from the books and there was a reference to Castle Blackspire. The dwarves that built the castle, they based it on what they considered to be the perfect design, something they called Blackspire.”

Her eyes were gleaming but Selenar wasn’t picking up what she was putting down. “Okay…?”

“Blackspire was on the underside of Fillory. When the gods Ember and Umber sprung into existence, they were constantly fighting for dominance, like the tale of Remus and Romulus, flipping the world back and forth like a coin, until Ember fell. So, if Whitespire was built on the heads side of Fillory, then—”

“Then Blackspire is on its tails side,” Selenar realized before faltering. “But that doesn't really help us get off of Fillory, now.”

Hope could barely open her eyes, she was so feverish and everything hurt so much, but she could just make out Selenar’s concerned eyes. “What’s wrong? Tell me!”

“I-I can’t, it’s too much,” Hope choked on her agony, on the desire to scream and rend stone. It had only been getting stronger and stronger with every nightmare, with every painful memory. “It hurts, it hurts so much!”

“What can I do?” Selenar demanded. “Bean, tell me—”

“What the fuck?” she murmured to herself as Hope’s consciousness slipped away.

“When d’you sleep?” she asked in the silence.

...

Presently, Selenar pulled back, suspicious. “Did whatever dream you had last night literally rattle your brain inside your skull?”

Hope threw back her head and laughed and she knew that wasn’t Io’s laugh, but the action still had her off-kilter. “I had to make room.”

“Make room?” Selenar repeated, confused. She wasn’t making any sense. It was like talking to someone who’d had a concussion and her brothers had dealt with that too many times to count in the war.

Hope arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I am mortal,” she pointed out, “my mind can’t handle the memories of multiple lives without making room for them. That’s not how it works.”

“How do you even know that that’s how it works?” Selenar’s confusion only increased.

...

Sel took a moment to stare up at the sky and wonder if this was the life she deserved. “I need to find a cliff.”

“Why?”

“To walk off it, what else?” she fired back and Hope rolled her eyes.

...

“I was-am the Wild Hunt,” she said finally, “I couldn't just leave and become a lowly guard to be close to my friends.”

“But Sylvar could?” Hope asked archly, standing to roll up the cloth for the sails.

“Sylvar had something to prove, I didn't,” Selenar said finally, eyes narrowing as she watched Hope’s shirt bunch and split to allow large wings full of midnight feathers to pierce through them.

...

“You’ve never flown with those, have you?” Selenar remarked just before Hope took a leap of faith and crashed immediately on her face.

She rolled her eyes at Hope’s grumbles of annoyance. “Here, let me show you—” She gripped Hope’s forearms and the next thing Hope knew, she was being thrown off the very mountain that had threatened to crush her only days ago.

“Sentient trees,” Selenar complained, “they're a load of—”

Selenar was still grumbling in annoyance, dripping water as she climbed her way back into the ship. “this place is unnatural,” she seethed.

“It’s from a children’s story,” Hope said, tilting her head and arching an eyebrow. “A series of stories.”

“Well, then, whoever wrote them was a fool,” Selenar complained, shaking the water off like a dog, the movement making the patches of scales along her skin shimmer and ripple.

Hope shrugged carelessly. “It’s another world, it’s not supposed to make sense. You don’t walk around Earth thinking it’ll be just like Annwn, do you?”

Selenar opted not to dignify that with a response, instead she chose to flop down on the deck and groan in complaint. “I’ve got to get off this goddess-forsaken world before my niece is born or so help me!”

...

Selenar must’ve seen a hint of how she felt flash across her face because she spoke slowly: “We don’t have to—”

...

Selenar gave her a look as she brought her own torch to steal some of the fire. “Dramatic,” she grumbled under her breath, ignoring Hope’s smirk. “Are you sure there’s anything in here of value?”

Hope shrugged, taking her torch with her further into the temple. “Well, it’s not like we were getting any answers anywhere else? That’s when you turn to the gods.”

“Hm. Interesting,” Selenar mused dryly. “Almost like a…last hope option.” Hope ignored the pun. “Especially for someone who has exhausted all o’ her options for saving her own life…” She cast a significant look Hope’s direction, which Hope opted to ignore, but she had truly walked right into that one.

...

“Some animal maybe?” Selenar muttered back. “Nothing else lives here, right?”

...

Selenar was watching him suspiciously. “How long have you been here?”

She raised her eyes to see the same woman who had stood and watched as Hope screamed under the weight of that mountain. “Who’re you?” she asked after a stilted moment and laughter bubbled out from under the woman’s hood.

...

“Chatwin?” Now that drew on her memory. “Like Chatwin’s Torrent?” Once she’d first been able to manage riding on a horse, she and Hope had set out to explore Fillory, taking note of its structures, man-made and not. It was why they’d ended up in the Siren, sailing around to see what happened once they reached the end of the Western Sea.

“The very same,” Jane agreed, her smile flickering and failing. “You should’ve left that monster where you found him.”

Unease gripped Selenar’s heart. “You mean Plover, don’t you?” she asked carefully. “What did he do?”

...

Shame crept up. “I’m not punishing her for not being Io,” she snapped hotly.

Realization glittered in Jane’s eyes and Selenar hated it. “You’re punishing yourself,” she understood. “Why?”

Selenar rubbed at the mark on the inside of her wrist, remembering Elizabeth wailing at her brother’s pyre before turning on Selenar. “Io and Henry had two children,” she said finally. “Ralston and Elizabeth…but Ral had too much of his mother in him and he wanted revenge but I’d promised to look after them.” Her teeth gritted. “I couldn't run off on a quest for vengeance, but Ralston could and he did and he died the same way they had.”

...

“I wasn't the best mother, to either of them,” she admitted, “if I had been…maybe they wouldn't have died so young.”

...

“Yes, maybe,” she sighed, even though the weight on her shoulders felt as though it had eased. “It’s just a strange feeling, you know? Like she’s here but not, which isn't her fault but I just feel…”

...

An annoyed huff burst out of her. “Whose side are you on?”

...

“I recognize the runes carved into his face,” she said after a long moment as Jane returned to her pruning and she only paused briefly. “Queen Morrigan likes to call them ‘human barbarism’, the first attempt at achieving immortality, extending life past its limit.”

...

“I have to go,” Selenar managed out, striding away from Jane, but she’d hardly made it more than a few feet, before Jane called out, stalling her where she stood.

Selenar’s eyes hardened. “I saw what happened to Plover.”

“Plover? What?” Her eyes slid out of focus briefly and her skin crawled, pressing one hand to her stomach. Stringing any words together, let alone the memory was difficult.

Her friend reached out a hand only to retract it when Hope shied back. “Your clothes are ripped,” Selenar said quietly and Hope looked down at herself.

“No one finds entering a battlefield agreeable if they aren't running from something,” she countered just as quietly. “Answer me honestly: why do you want to go to Hy-brasil?”

“I told you,” she said in her lilting voice. “Fillory.” She offered him a hand and he took it. “My name is Selenar. I am the Wild Hunt.”

“The Wild Hunt?” he repeated dubiously. “Isn’t that just a story?”

Her mouth twisted into something wry. “That’s what we all become in the end.”

"No it’s not," Selenar whacked her with a spoon. "And that didn't even count, it only stalled your heart briefly. Human-made curses don't work on godlings; why else would Flamel not have bothered with one when he went after Iolanthe?"

...

We have a pressing problem, Selenar's voice came, echoing eerily in the silence of their minds.

...

Not necessarily, she said slowly. The constellations might have different names, but the stars are the same.

Really? Marwan and Marina said as one.

Selenar rolled her eyes. It’s called the Otherworld for a reason. It’s more of a different plane of existence than a different world entirely and it’s about as stable as Fillory.

...

Again, Selenar shook her head. The stars are reflected, so whatever constellation Annwn and Earth are linked to, so is Fillory, it will just be a reflection of the stars you know. We just need to find the right ones.

Knife-throwing is certainly what she’s skilled at, Selenar conceded, but she found an old rifle and a pistol some months ago that she managed to rework into what she needed. They're actually quite beautiful. Some minor enchantments but for the most part she’s jus’ used her hands.

It’s not as though there’s going to be a lot of time, Selenar pointed out. Just ask Bean.

...

When the time comes, you will make sure she goes through the Tree, even if I’m not here, she said.

His eyes widened. Why would you not be here?

Her own were sharp. I think you and I both know, that when you’re hunted, sometimes you need someone to stay behind as a distraction.

Marwan gave a silent sigh. She won’t go without you, he disagreed, I’ve seen how you two are. It’s not going to work if you aren’t here.

It will, Selenar said, steady and certain, if you force her to.

She’s stronger than me!

Not physically, Selenar countered.

You’re the one that taught her to flip someone my size over her back, Marwan disagreed. She absolutely can!

Then I suppose you had best be quick about dragging her through, then, Selenar replied, words flat.

...

We are speaking of gods, not rabid animals, Selenar disagreed. And gods don't like to be spurned. It will get violent, so I need to be sure that you will force her through the Tree, if necessary.

#looking beyond au #fic asks #stand tall crap #brace for impact crap

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harpers-tartarus · 12 days