#and kalmar is the king of course

[alfredfortnitejones]

"SOLDIER, POET, KING" BY THE OH HELLOS IS LITERALLY THE WINGFEATHER CHILDREN FROM THE WINGFEATHER SAGA BOOKS BY ANDREW PETERSON

#janner‚ the throne warden‚ is the soldier #leeli‚ the song maiden‚ is the poet #and kalmar is the king of course #the oh hellos #the oh hellos soldier poet king #the wingfeather saga #janner wingfeather #kalmar wingfeather #leeli wingfeather

[mayzi33]

******SPOILERS, SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD.*********

I have so much to say I'm afraid my brain might explode. So I'll try to keep calm despite still being at the verge of tears.

When I first started this book series, I thought it would be the usual light, cutesy fantasy about friendship and family. And oh boy, OH BOY WAS I WRONG.

On a side note, something I'd like to point out I noticed, from the first book to the third, the lighting on the cover progressively gets darker. Of course, representing the story itself as the plot gets darker as well. On the last book, it's still dark, but there's a light coming from Janner, Kalmar and Leeli, like they finally reached sunrise after a long, ruthless night. Something i'm pretty sure was said at some point on the books themselves, about no matter how long the night is the day will always come.

Anyways. Back to the topic at hand. As the story progressed, I keep growing more and more connected to these characters, and each chapter I rooted more and more for the Jewels Of Anniera.

I'd like to add that I'm an only child, yet, somehow, I can tell Janner is one of the best eldest sibling characters ever written. My whole life I've only watched siblings around me and their relationship with eachother, especially on the eldest's side, and somehow, Janner reminded me of every friend, family member or random stranger I saw on the streets someday that have siblings.

Janner is such a complex character. He is by no means perfect, but he does have a golden heart. One of the things I was most impressed by was how the author described Janner's feelings, whatever it was the longing for his father, or just feeling burdened by his siblings. And yet, no matter what Janner is feeling, the narrator never invalidates his feelings or antagonize him. Janner is a child, a child who went through a lot. He is allowed to miss a father he never had just as he is allowed to sometimes be annoyed for always having to make sacrifices for his siblings. But one of the things I admired the most about Janner (along with everyone else I'm pretty sure) was his character development. At the first book, he'd roll his eyes at the mere thought of having to look after his siblings and saw them as a burden. At the second book, he learned the hard way how much Kalmar and Leeli matter to him, and how it hurts to be away from them. On the third book, he took pride on his title as Throne Warden and role as the eldest sibling, being devoted to protecting the High King and Song Maiden. And at last, on the last book, he leaves pride aside. He doesn't take care of Kalmar and Leeli because it's his duty, because it's honorable, neither because that's what he has always been told to do. He does it because he loves them above all else, because he finally sees how strong the bond the three of them share truly is, because he feels the blessing the Maker has gifted them, and how much stronger they are when they're together.

Janner is a kind, brave, clever, beautiful boy.

And I will forever believe that they managed to get him the water from the First Well to heal him. I will nor accept any other ending.

Kalmar. At first, the typical goofy, troublemaking sibling, more like a comic relief. But again, OHOHOHO BOY... DID THAT CHANGE.

I definetely did not expect for them to take the turn they did with Kalmar. I could tell that he would have some character arc mainly towards maturing and taking responsability, but I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE LIKE THAT. Seeing that bright, easy-going, smiley little boy loosing his usual joyful personality when he was fanged, slowly loosing his sanity and growing on his self loathing was really something painful yet beautiful to watch. Like Janner, he also had to learn his lesson on the hardest way possible. An extrovert kid like him, having everyone turning their backs on him and looking at him with hatred, and yet, he learned to keep his head high, like a High King. (the phrase "keep your head held high or else your crown will fall" is literally perfect for him.) And most of all, seeing him risk his life to aid a strange cloven, (that turned out to be his father) grant the Hollowsfolk his forgiveness despite everything they did to him, show mercy and compassion to the Fangs despite everything they did, all of these things make Kalmar an inspiring ruler, and leaves me assured that he will be a great king after all.

Now, Leeli, sweet, pure-hearted Leeli. I will be honest, at first I was afraid that they would make her the typical "overly nice and overly fragile female character", but again, BOY WAS I WRONG. (I don't know how many times I will repeat that, I apologize.) At some points in the books, she didn't have as much spotlight as her brother and I felt like she was kind of being thrown aside. But there's always a turn the books take that make her lack of spotlight at first worth it. So young, the youngest of the Jewels Of Anniera, yet she has seen and done so much. Has a bad leg, needed to use a crutch since she was little, yet that literally never stopped her. She strives to keep up with her brothers, and despite his kind personality she shows she can be festy and even scary when she wants to. (I will never forget that moment in the second book where she was yelling at the trolls and fangs and they were actually eager to obey her lol). She hates it when people assume she's weak and often refuses help, proving she's perfectly capable. But at times, she does need help, which shows us all it's okay to have someone to rely on. She was the link between Janner and Kalmar, no matter how much they argued nor how mad they were at eachother, she was always there for both of them and connecting them back together. She may not be able to fight like her brothers, but she found her own strenght. Her music, something that has always brought joy and hope to others turns out to be an ACTUAL weapon. She kicked a Green Fang to defend her puppy, she was the first one to see the pain and kindess through Peet, Nugget sacrificed himself for her showing how her strong her love for others really is, she stopped A FREAKING DRAGON from killing her grandpa, she led an army of dogs, she defeated countless fangs with nothing but her song. One of the best child female chracters I've seen in a while. She is feminine, has her weak points, but she finds her strenght, not in swords, punches or bows but on a whistleharp. I love her so much I can't describe it.

I love all of these kids so much. I am *proud* of them. I know it's a weird thing to say about fictional characters, but these books just make me feel this way. I can't name a single character I didn't connect or feel empathy with.

Nia, such a strong, independent woman, raising her children having lost her husband and kingdom, yet keep her head held high like the queen she is.

Podo, a man who has sinned, takes shame on them, yet shows that sinners can still be good people. Loves his family above all else, protected and took care of them until his last breath, might have been a little rough around the edges, but always showed a soft spot for his daughter and grandkids.

Artham, a broken man, haunted by the shame of loosing his brother, slowly, but surely, healing. Learning to move on by protecting his nephews and niece, making what was once a weakness a strenght.

Oskar, an old man that was always sitting on the library, letting go of his peaceful life and risking his life to accompany the Wingfeathers through thick and thin.

Sara, who was taken from her family, abused and had all her hope crushed, finding her courage back after meeting Janner and taking after him, being a sisterly figure, leader and queen ti billions of orphan children, and helping them find their strenght and fight for their freedom.

Maraly, a rude strander girl who was raised horribly her whole life by her abusive father, finally finding true love and a true father figure.

Everything about this story has touched me. A broken world taken by an evil monarch who turned to be just another broken soul, filled with hopeless people, people who had surrended to the darkness... Saved by three children, who brought light everywhere they went. A boy with scars, a boy inside a wolf, and a girl with a crutch. Kids who one day were mere peasants, the other were the Jewels Of Anniera, and a year later, heroes of Aerwiar.

I've smiled, I've laughed, I've been shocked, I've been scared, I've been mad, I've cried. I have red lots, and I mean LOTS of books. Different stories, different worlds, different characters. Yet none of them has touched me half as much as The Wingfeather Saga.

It has war, tears, bloodshed, betrayals, sacrifices and sorrow. But it also has love, joy, hope, laughter, wonder and light.

This story definetely deserves way more fans and recognition. I hope that with the new animated series (which I'll definetely watch later) it begins to gain more love.

Anyways. I really love this in case y'all couldn't tell already. Have a good day/afternoon/evening.

#the wingfeather saga #janner wingfeather #kalmar wingfeather #leeli wingfeather #the warden and the wolf king #podo helmer #nia wingfeather #book rant #andrew peterson #christianity #underrated books #fantasy books

[ifindus]

Hello professor , I was wondering how to understand the ship of Kalmarunionen in a history kinda way. I really wanna know your interpretation and view about the relationship between Norway,Denmark and Sweden.

Don't think I've ever gotten a question about the Kalmar Union before! 🤩 I think a very big decider of their relationship is the very events of the Kalmar Union, so I kind of focused solely on this here. It is important to understand their beginnings; where they come from.

A short time line of events:

1319: Norway and Sweden get the same King (debatable)

1348: The Black Plague comes to Norway

1380: Norway and Denmark get the same King

1397: The Kalmar Union is formed

1412: The Queen dies

1430s: Swedish rebellions

1448-1457: Disagreements about an heir after the King dies without children

1523: Sweden leaves the Kalmar Union

1536: Denmark declares Norway a Danish province

The Kalmar Union was established as a way to strengthen Northern Europe against the influence of the German Hanseatic Leauge, and when these disappeared in the 1500s, so did the reason for keeping the union together. Sweden was always sceptical to the union and mainly joined so that the German states would not become too influencial, because even though parts of him were under Norwegian rule, he still wanted to be independant. In 1448 Sweden elected a Swedish ruler over the Union and Norway followed suit, but Denmark was already too influencial and when they picked a Danish ruler, Norway soon followed.

Denmark then begun to pick fights with the continent, something that was bad for Sweden as they exported a lot of iron to the continent and depended on that. At the same time, the power in the union became centralised to Copenhagen, with Denmark deciding everything. Sweden refused to go along with this.

After Sweden left, Denmark declared Norway a Danish province, stripped him of his national council without having a say. The only reason Denmark kept Norway's title as a Kingdom was because of Norway's inheritance system - something that was used to make Norwegian heirs Danish Kings. Norway got to keep its own legal system, but became integrated into the state Denmark-Norway with its capital in Copenhagen.

It is thought that the Black Plauge hit Norway a lot harder than Sweden and Denmark - something that crippled Norway's influence on the course the union took. This is also where all the disagreements between Denmark and Sweden begins; Denmark taking advantage of the other two, and then Sweden leaving Norway behind to become used by Denmark.

#hetalia #historical hetalia #aph norway #aph denmark #aph sweden #hws norway #hws sweden #hws denmark #aph scandinavia #hws scandinavia #thanks for the ask! 🤩💕 I became so excited for the Kalmarunionen I forgot about everything else #such an interesting and defining period for the Scandis #hope the drawing expresses anything I didn't know how to put into text without making sense

[ettawritesnstudies]

taking part in athena's ask a thon! Has any other media inspired you?

Thanks for the ask!

Hmmmmmm, recently there's been two.

The first is the Kingkiler Chronicle: it's about a orphan bard kid named Kvothe who goes to a magical university to learn about what killed his family, and a big part of the story is truth being uncovered through children's playground rhymes and other folk songs nobody (important) pays any attention to. It inspired me to write some songs for Runaways, especially because music such a big part of the story already! Kvothe is a drama king it's very funny but otherwise not that similar to Runaways. Very good book though.

I've also been really obsessed with the Wingfeather Saga. I found it through the new animated TV show - it got crowdfunded and released for free(!) on the Angel app which is very cool, and I was watching it with my siblings when I was last home. They watch a lot of obnoxious kids shows but I really liked this one. The animation style is adorable and the story was good, but it left me on a plot twist and a cliffhanger so of course I had to go find the book series that it was adapted from. And it's genius.

The story follows the Igiby family as they try to survive under the rule of the evil Fangs of Dang, then go on the run once the Fangs start hunting them down (for plot reasons). The family is a pirate grandfather named Podo, their long suffering and strong mother Nia, the oldest bookish protector, Janner, the impulsive sporty middle child, Tink aka Kalmar, and the Too Pure For This Sinful World youngest musician, Leeli. Both Podo and Leeli are disabled but it's handled in a great way throughout the series. It subverts a lot of the usual fairytale tropes in brilliant ways without ever feeling jarring.

The story is told through Janner's POV mostly, and it is possibly the most relatable oldest sibling experience I've ever read. Please get this kid some hot chocolate and a nap ASAP please I love him. There's a lot of themes about "I am my brother's keeper" and music being the thing that connects the three kids and "remember who you are" with names. The tone is the perfect balance of sincere and heartwarming and terrifying and silly. I want people to feel like this when they're reading Runaways.

#ask answered #the wingfeather saga #the kingkiller chronicle #kvothe #janner wingfeather #janner igiby #tink igiby #kalmar wingfeather #leeli wingfeather

[cyclonestudios-alt]

Do you have any headcanons on Artham helping Janner navigate being a Throne Warden, and maybe even helping Kalmar navigate being king, once Anniera is rebuilt enough for them to have actual royal duties? (I think Leeli would probably have to learn her Song Maiden duties from books and stuff, which I’m sure Oskar would help her with).

Woah, my first ask!

Ok so, I think Artham would probably give Janner tips that he learned from Illia (the previous Throne Warden) and possibly stories from when he (Artham) was learning about being a Throne Warden for Esben. The second might be a bit less likely, considering Artham still has guilt about the whole thing, but it would also likely help him heal. That, and it'd be really cute to hear stories from before the War. It also kind of seems to me that the way Janner understands and learns things best is through stories, so likely Artham would use the Universal Throne Warden language (aka stories) and help him in that way.

As for Kalmar... I'm not entirely sure. Artham would probably help him out with the diplomatic and governmental side of things, but as for, you know, being a good king and all of that, it might be a bit more difficult considering Artham's a Throne Warden, not the High King, and likely all of this reminds him of Esben. However, he does try to help Kal as best as he can, because he absolutely adores his nephew (and of course Janner and Leeli)

Thanks for listening to my rambles! And thank you so much for the ask! :D

#Wingfeather Saga #Wingfeather headcannons #artham wingfeather #janner wingfeather #kalmar wingfeather #Asks

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 6.17

653 – Pope Martin I is arrested and taken to Constantinople, due to his opposition to monothelitism. 1242 – Following the Disputation of Paris, twenty-four carriage loads of Jewish religious manuscripts were burnt in Paris. 1397 – The Kalmar Union is formed under the rule of Margaret I of Denmark. 1462 – Vlad III the Impaler attempts to assassinate Mehmed II (The Night Attack at Târgovişte), forcing him to retreat from Wallachia. 1497 – Battle of Deptford Bridge: Forces under King Henry VII defeat troops led by Michael An Gof. 1565 – Matsunaga Hisahide assassinates the 13th Ashikaga shōgun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru. 1579 – Sir Francis Drake claims a land he calls Nova Albion (modern California) for England. 1596 – The Dutch explorer Willem Barentsz discovers the Arctic archipelago of Spitsbergen. 1601–1900 1631 – Mumtaz Mahal dies during childbirth. Her husband, Mughal emperor Shah Jahan I, will spend the next 17 years building her mausoleum, the Taj Mahal. 1665 – Battle of Montes Claros: Portugal definitively secured independence from Spain in the last battle of the Portuguese Restoration War. 1673 – French explorers Jacques Marquette and Louis Jolliet reach the Mississippi River and become the first Europeans to make a detailed account of its course. 1767 – Samuel Wallis, a British sea captain, sights Tahiti and is considered the first European to reach the island. 1773 – Cúcuta, Colombia, is founded by Juana Rangel de Cuéllar. 1775 – American Revolutionary War: Colonists inflict heavy casualties on British forces while losing the Battle of Bunker Hill. 1789 – In France, the Third Estate declares itself the National Assembly. 1794 – Foundation of Anglo-Corsican Kingdom. 1795 – The burghers of Swellendam expel the Dutch East India Company magistrate and declare a republic. 1839 – In the Kingdom of Hawaii, Kamehameha III issues the edict of toleration which gives Roman Catholics the freedom to worship in the Hawaiian Islands. The Hawaii Catholic Church and the Cathedral of Our Lady of Peace are established as a result. 1843 – The Wairau Affray, the first serious clash of arms between Māori and British settlers in the New Zealand Wars, takes place. 1861 – American Civil War: Battle of Vienna, Virginia. 1863 – American Civil War: Battle of Aldie in the Gettysburg Campaign. 1876 – American Indian Wars: Battle of the Rosebud: One thousand five hundred Sioux and Cheyenne led by Crazy Horse beat back General George Crook's forces at Rosebud Creek in Montana Territory. 1877 – American Indian Wars: Battle of White Bird Canyon: The Nez Perce defeat the U.S. Cavalry at White Bird Canyon in the Idaho Territory. 1885 – The Statue of Liberty arrives in New York Harbor. 1898 – The United States Navy Hospital Corps is established. 1900 – Boxer Rebellion: Western Allied and Japanese forces capture the Taku Forts in Tianjin, China. 1901–present 1901 – The College Board introduces its first standardized test, the forerunner to the SAT. 1910 – Aurel Vlaicu pilots an A. Vlaicu nr. 1 on its first flight. 1922 – Portuguese naval aviators Gago Coutinho and Sacadura Cabral complete the first aerial crossing of the South Atlantic. 1929 – The town of Murchison, New Zealand is rocked by a 7.8 magnitude earthquake killing 17. At the time it was New Zealand's worst natural disaster. 1930 – U.S. President Herbert Hoover signs the Smoot–Hawley Tariff Act into law. 1932 – Bonus Army: Around a thousand World War I veterans amass at the United States Capitol as the U.S. Senate considers a bill that would give them certain benefits. 1933 – Union Station massacre: In Kansas City, Missouri, four FBI agents and captured fugitive Frank Nash are gunned down by gangsters attempting to free Nash. 1939 – Last public guillotining in France: Eugen Weidmann, a convicted murderer, is executed in Versailles outside the Saint-Pierre prison. 1940 – World War II: RMS Lancastria is attacked and sunk by the Luftwaffe near Saint-Nazaire, France. At least 3,000 are killed in Britain's worst maritime disaster. 1940 – World War II: The British Army's 11th Hussars assault and take Fort Capuzzo in Libya, Africa from Italian forces. 1940 – The three Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania fall under the occupation of the Soviet Union. 1944 – Iceland declares independence from Denmark and becomes a republic. 1948 – United Airlines Flight 624, a Douglas DC-6, crashes near Mount Carmel, Pennsylvania, killing all 43 people on board. 1952 – Guatemala passes Decree 900, ordering the redistribution of uncultivated land. 1953 – Cold War: East Germany Workers Uprising: In East Germany, the Soviet Union orders a division of troops into East Berlin to quell a rebellion. 1958 – The Ironworkers Memorial Second Narrows Crossing, in the process of being built to connect Vancouver and North Vancouver (Canada), collapses into the Burrard Inlet killing 18 ironworkers and injuring others. 1960 – The Nez Perce tribe is awarded $4 million for 7 million acres (28,000 km2) of land undervalued at four cents/acre in the 1863 treaty. 1963 – The United States Supreme Court rules 8–1 in Abington School District v. Schempp against requiring the reciting of Bible verses and the Lord's Prayer in public schools. 1963 – A day after South Vietnamese President Ngô Đình Diệm announced the Joint Communiqué to end the Buddhist crisis, a riot involving around 2,000 people breaks out. One person is killed. 1967 – Nuclear weapons testing: China announces a successful test of its first thermonuclear weapon. 1971 – U.S. President Richard Nixon in a televised press conference called drug abuse "America's public enemy number one", starting the War on drugs. 1972 – Watergate scandal: Five White House operatives are arrested for burgling the offices of the Democratic National Committee during an attempt by members of the administration of President Richard M. Nixon to illegally wiretap the political opposition as part of a broader campaign to subvert the democratic process. 1985 – Space Shuttle program: STS-51-G mission: Space Shuttle Discovery launches carrying Sultan bin Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, the first Arab and first Muslim in space, as a payload specialist. 1987 – With the death of the last individual of the species, the dusky seaside sparrow becomes extinct. 1989 – Interflug Flight 102 crashes during a rejected takeoff from Berlin Schönefeld Airport, killing 21 people. 1991 – Apartheid: The South African Parliament repeals the Population Registration Act which required racial classification of all South Africans at birth. 1992 – A "joint understanding" agreement on arms reduction is signed by U.S. President George Bush and Russian President Boris Yeltsin (this would be later codified in START II). 1994 – Following a televised low-speed highway chase, O. J. Simpson is arrested for the murders of his ex-wife, Nicole Brown Simpson, and her friend Ronald Goldman. 2015 – Nine people are killed in a mass shooting at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina. 2017 – A series of wildfires in central Portugal kill at least 64 people and injure 204 others. 2021 – Juneteenth National Independence Day, was signed into law by President Joe Biden, to become the first federal holiday established since Martin Luther King Jr. Day in 1983.

#Events

[misswilma]

internet questions. | 057

28.08.2022

– where does vasaloppet start and end?

Vasaloppet (Swedish for 'the Vasa-race') is an annual long distance cross-country ski race held on the first Sunday of March. The 90 km (56 mi) course starts in the village of Berga, just south of Sälen in western Dalarna, Sweden, and ends in the town of Mora in the central part of the province. [Wikipedia n.y.].

THE FIRST VASALOPPET TOOK PLACE on 19 March 1922. The idea for the race was first published in Vestmanlands Läns Tidning in February of the same year, the baby of the local newspaper’s editor-in-chief Anders Pers. He was inspired by the former Swedish king, Gustav Eriksson (birth name of Gustav Vasa/Gustav I), who during the winter of 1520/1521 traveled from Mora to Sälen to escape the tyranny of the Danish king (Vasaloppet 2022; 2022; Wikipedia w.y).

In his article Anders Pers writes:

Why can we not take on Mora-Sälen as a national ski race, take it on right now, when we celebrate the 400-year-anniversary of Gustaf Eriksson’s act of liberation? It was but here, the pendulum turned the other way, the happy direction in his and Sweden’s life.  — from “Ett nationellt skidlopp”, Vestmanlands Läns Tidning, 10 February 1922

Gustav Vasa’s journey in Dalarna The history of Vasaloppet started in 1520. Sweden was in a union with Denmark and a large portion of the Swedish population was dissatisfied with the Danish king Kristian II. Gustav Eriksson was one of those that showed his dissatisfaction which caused him to be jailed in Denmark. He did manage to escape to Kalmar, from where he started to travel north, trying to get framers to join him against the king. He was met with reluctance as they wanted peace. So his last resort was the farmers in Dalarna who were known to be against most of the king’s decisions. During his time in Dalarna, he was hunted by Danish soldiers, but because he was protected and hidden by people he meet he was not caught (Vasaloppet 2022).

About a month into his travel he stood before Mora church and talked to the masses. Eriksson was informing the people of Mora about Stockholmes blodbad (Stockholm’s blood bath), where both his father and brother were murdered. He was wondering for how long people were going to accept this tyranny and encourage them to take up arms against the king. The townspeople were hesitant and needed to discuss what to do. But as the Danish soldiers came closer, Eriksson needed to flee west, to Norway (Vasaloppet 2022).

By this time, the news of what had happened in Stockholm reached Mora. It shocked the townspeople and they regretted they did not help Eriksson. In order to find Eriksson and tell him of their support, two of the town’s best skiers were sent out to find him. In Sälen they found him. After persuading him to come with them, all three went back to Mora (Vasaloppet 2022).

#internet questions #gustav vasa #vasaloppet #history #swedish history

[phykios]

the marble king, part 10 [read on ao3]

His wife had taken ill, a statement that was simultaneously the best and worst one Percy had ever thought up in his short, eventful life. It was the best, because of the simple fact that Anja Elisabet Fredriksdotter was his wife. At night they shared a bed, and during the day they shared each other’s company. Though she did not love him, and had only married him in a bid to, rather ironically, retain her freedom, she wished for him to stay at her side, and he was blessed with her presence in turn.

Yet it was also the worst, because Annabeth, the love of his life, had taken ill.

He worried for her constantly; her pain was his pain, and the thought of something happening to her was simply unthinkable. Consumed with anxiety, he did what he always had done since they had been children, and he was overwhelmed by the magnitude of his own feelings. When he found her throwing up over the side of the boat for the fourth morning in a row, he swallowed his fears, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“The sea never used to affect you this strongly.” Percy teased, even as he rubbed at her back. “What would all the other shieldmaidens say if they could see you now?”

She only groaned in response. He offered his handkerchief as she made to whip her mouth on her cloak. Once she was cleaned, she exhaled, leaning against him.

“And to think, your father told me your family was descended from an Aesir sea god,” Percy continued, offering his own sea strength to steady her.

“Vanir,” Annabeth said. “We are descended from a Vanir god, who in turn was descended from a sea god.” Percy only had the vaguest idea of what that meant, based on Alejandra’s stories, but he so loved to hear her correcting him once more, even when she was feeling poorly, for it meant she was still herself.

“Regardless, the sea flows through your veins, Anja,” he jested, tone light. Many of these northern words felt odd in his mouth, but he loved to speak her given name. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“That neither Frey nor Njord were gods of motherhood,” she moaned.

His thoughts stuttering, he frowned at her for several long seconds. “Motherhood? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything, phykios.” She groaned, her head resting on his shoulder, and her hand going to her stomach.

Like fog dissolving in the morning sun, the meaning came to him, quickly and suddenly. But surely it could not be so; they’d only laid together once.

Gently, terrifyingly, he placed his hand on top of hers, over her belly. He could not sense a difference through her clothes. “You are pregnant?” Percy whispered. He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

“Yes.”

Percy felt tears prick his eyes. Were he less in control of his feelings, he would have taken her by the hand, lifted her up, and spun her around in elation. “You are with child?”

“I am,” she confirmed. Pulling back from him a bit, she looked at him, eyes keen and discerning. “Do you mind?” Her words were mild, yet in her tone, he could sense just the barest hint of trepidation, of fear of disapproval.

“Mind!” He laughed, a few of his tears escaping. “Of course not!”

Energy surging through his limbs, he nearly stood up and began to dance. Annabeth, his wife, his truest companion from his earliest days, pregnant with his child! They were to have a family together! How could he not be so elated, when this was every dream of his come true?

But then, he then realized, while children had been his most secret desire, it had not, necessarily, been hers. It had not even been the point of their marriage. Annabeth had married him for freedom from; to be trapped in motherhood, tied down with a child, may have been the very thing she hoped to avoid. “Are,” he swallowed, suddenly afraid, “are you very displeased?”

“Displeased? I…” She held his gaze for a long moment, looking on him with wide, uncertain eyes, and then shook her head. “No. As long as you are not unhappy, then neither am I.”

“I am happy,” he said quickly. “I am very, very happy. Ever since dear, sweet Esther was born, I always imagined myself to be a father one day. I simply thought it would be impossible.” Demigod lives, particularly those of his more immediate, more powerful peers, were short and bright and violent--to say nothing of his financial situation. As well, there was that fact that he had had a difficult time dreaming of children who had not been mothered by Annabeth.

“So you are not upset,” she asked again, seeking confirmation.

“I am most certainly not upset,” he promised her.

He was ecstatic. His whole self felt lighter, happier, better than it had in years, and not just since the fall of their city, but several years before that, at least. Annabeth, his wife, his great love, building a family with him… it had been a dream far too fragile to speak of. And now it had come true.

Her unsure expression, however, caused him to temper his outward reflection. Just as he opened his mouth to question if she required anything, she once again leaned over the edge of the boat, and vomited into the sea below.

“There, there,” he said, rubbing at her back, making sure to keep her cloak and dress, billowing in the wind, out of the way so it would not get dirty. “Come, sit.” he said, after she had caught her breath, submitting to his guiding her to a bench. “Can I get you anything?”

She waved off his offer, eyes closed against the salt spray. “These are normal parts of pregnancy, I am given to understand. When I spoke with the cook at my cousin’s house, her warnings made me fear it would be worse than it has been.”

His jaw dropped. “You knew before we left your family?”

She glanced at him, a little scathing. “A woman knows these things, Percy.”

Of that, he had no doubt--but that was not the issue here. “It cannot be safe for you to travel like this.” His earlier fear gripped him, curling cold fingers around his heart. He looked out at the sea around them, the breadth of his father’s domain now transformed into a dark, terrible labyrinth, where dangers lurked about every corner. “You should not have left your cousin’s house.”

“You were going to leave me there,” she accused.

“No, I--” he began to argue, before cutting himself off. She was correct, of course, though not for the reasons she assumed, and sadly, there was no good manner in which he could explain why, not without divulging all the secrets of his heart, and causing her more discomfort. “I wanted--I want you to have as happy and comfortable and challenging a life as possible. I had thought you would find that among your family and the politics of the Kalmar Union, but, I swear, if you had told me of the baby, I would have chosen differently.”

Happily he would have tolerated the strange food and horrid climates of Svealand forever for her sake, for his family’s sake. He thought once again of the parade of little girls dressed as Saint Lucy, then imagined his own daughter, with Annabeth’s blonde curls and grey eyes, joining it. His heart skipped a beat in his chest.

“We are not so far from your family, and a long way off from Italy,” he said. It would be a simple enough task for him--he did not even have to inform the captain. “We can still turn back, so you might have your confinement and give birth in all comfort.” Her father and Magnus would want nothing more than to take care of her in her condition, and she would far more likely welcome their concern than his.

“We are going to Italy,” she said, mouth set.

“But if you are unwell--”

“I am fine,” she snapped. “We are going to Italy, and there we shall have our child. Does that thought upset you?”

So caught off guard by her tone, he almost missed the most delightful and pleasing combination of words to ever exist: our child . His and Annabeth’s child. The most precious gift he had ever received, the dream of a lifetime.

“It does not,” he said, though he could not entirely quiet his internal concern. “If it is what you wish-- what you truly wish--then we shall continue on to Venice.”

They held each other’s gazes for a moment longer, imparting such thoughts and feelings as neither of them could understand. Then she smiled, beautiful, yet somehow sad. “Surely,” she said, “you wish to raise your child on the shores of your father’s sea.”

She knew him far too well, for he could not deny the appeal.

Then, all of a sudden, he was gripped by an overwhelming fear: Annabeth was with child . Even the most formidable fighter could only do so much while burdened with carrying another life. He remembered how his mother, heavy with little Esther, struggled to walk to and from the local market. What if they should come across another band of cruel bandits? What if she should hurt herself on the road to Italy, or if Percy should find himself injured or ill, unable to help her or protect her?

Seemingly from nowhere, a small bundle of white fur appeared at their feet, and the little cat jumped up beside them, giving a perfunctory sniff to the fabric of Annabeth’s dress before climbing on top of her, pressing her paws back and forth on her thigh the way Percy’s mother used to prepare her bread. Satisfied, then, she walked in a circle before settling down for her midmorning nap, tucking her paws beneath her body.

Admittedly, Percy had been somewhat skeptical of the cat, which Annabeth had taken to calling “Freya.” He liked animals, cats as well as dogs equally, and cats did seem to take a special liking to him. He remembered fondly the many cats of Constantinople following him after a hard day’s work, looking up with expectant eyes as they sweetly begged for part of his daily catch, then absconded with his discards into the dark city alleyways. So while he did not mind Freya’s presence, she seemed to distinctly prefer his wife, sticking to Annabeth’s side like a burr on cloth, laying ownership to her lap, sometimes hissing at strange people who got too close.

Percy could sympathize, on several points.

From Danzig, then, he decided, they would set out on the Via Imperii . Were it yet summer, perhaps they could have sailed the whole way to Venice, but he feared the might of spring storms, and would not risk her life, nor their child’s, for something as intangible as expediency. He remembered well, too, how their voyage upriver had sapped him of his strength until he had been unable to do naught but sleep; to exert himself to exhaustion on the open sea, miles away from any shore or safe harbor, could prove even more disastrous.

Immediately, Annabeth’s hands descended on the cat, scratching the underside of her chin with one while the other stroked the length of her back, and Freya purred, loud enough Percy could hear it even over the crashing waves, blinking her eyes sleepily back up at her. His wife smiled, quite taken with their furry companion.

There was so much more at stake now, he realized. Not just his own health, nor hers, but the health and safety of the life they had made together. In his heart, he swore on a river whose name had once struck fear into the hearts of men and gods alike, he would work every day to prove himself worthy of this woman who made such sacrifices for his sake.

Aloud, he merely said, “Thank you.” Two words which could not encompass all the gratitude he held for her. Were he able to pay her back its weight in gold, she would be the richest woman in the world.

Annabeth cast him a fond, if tired, look, her countenance still vaguely green. “Do not thank me yet,” she said. “I am told that it gets much, much worse.”

“I look forward to it,” Percy replied, turning his face into the sun.

***

He had hoped that Annabeth’s sickness would lessen once they returned to dry land. But after three days traveling through Pomerania , she was still sick in the mornings.

“Your child preferred the sea, methinks.” Annabeth said as Percy passed her water. She smiled her thanks and drank deeply. “But it could be much worse, I suppose. I’ve heard it said that many people feel the sickness all day, for weeks. Mine is, at the very least, limited to the earliest morning hours--and you have been most accommodating.”

With their not inconsiderable fortune, Percy had managed to procure for them a cart and a horse, so that they could keep up a lively pace while allowing Annabeth to rest as much as she required. “I have not been accommodating,” Percy protested. “You are with child.” My child , he did not say, but thought it, giddily. “It is the very least that I could do.”

“Well, regardless,” she said, “it is very appreciated.” Then she groaned, dropping her head forward.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching out a hand to steady her.

“Have we any more food? I am ravenous.”

They did, because Percy wished to spare no expense on his wife and hopeful daughter. And besides, it was Annabeth’s money, they should spend as much on her comfort as needed. They’d left the inn early in the morning, but he had gotten them some bread and hard cheese before they had begun the journey. “Here, have the rest,” he said, handing them to her.

But she pushed the parcel away. “No, no, have we anything else?”

He did not, but he would not let himself fall into a panic. “When we arrive in Stettin ,” he promised, “I shall purchase whatever it is you desire. Tell me, if there were anything in the world that you could have, what would it be?”

Whatever she needed, he would do his best to provide: that was the vow he had taken, and this was merely his first challenge.

Thoughtful, she looked towards the clouds, her lip between her teeth.

“...Olives,” she said. “I would be very happy for some olives.”

Percy laughed. Of course. Athena’s proclivity for the fruit was renowned. “Then olives it is, my lady.”

It was a simple enough task, on the surface, to procure some olives for his pregnant wife. As a child living on the shores of the great Roman lake, olives had been plentiful and ubiquitous; at the agoge , the children of Demeter and Athena had cultivated a small grove of olive trees, partially for their own use, but also to sell at market. Though there had been neither olives nor olive oil in Svealand, as it was far too expensive to import from so far South, Percy assumed that he would be able to locate some here on the continent. Stettin was the Northernmost city on the Via Imperii , and surely some of the stuff must have wound its way through the lands controlled by the Legion.

Day after day, town after town, any time they passed through a settlement, they stopped at market so that Annabeth could rest, and Percy could scour the stalls and alleys for olives--and day after day, town after town, he found none. Not a single hamlet between Danzig and Stettin carried the malakes fruit. Every day he would return to his wife empty handed, and every day she would smile at him, her eyes shining, and thanked him for trying.

Her cravings continued. He could sense it, the way he could sense a storm, her mood souring as the days dragged on.

They stayed an extra night in Stettin to let the horses rest. It was a Monday, the start of a fresh, new week, the day the merchants and farmers brought in their weekly produce. Surely, Percy thought, perhaps foolishly, surely a market of such a large city would have even a small bottle of olive oil? What civilized city did not have a healthy supply of the stuff? Rome had once spanned nearly the entire continent; the well worn roads were proof of it. Surely, they had left some sort of culinary mark.

Apparently, he was a fool. The only oil to be found was made from pumpkin seeds--a favorite of some of the members of the Legion. He knew it to be bland, tasteless, and not at all fit for his wife. As for the olives, the merchants all looked at him as though he had grown a second head, those who understood a little Italian anyway, for those who could not merely stared at him as he fumbled his way through the few Frankish words which he knew.

He felt oddly numb, returning to their accommodations empty-handed. Would she be disappointed? Would she regret leaving the comfort and security of Svealand, where all her needs had been provided for?

Yet she had merely shrugged, brushing her hair with the comb that she had pilfered from Alejandra. “It is no great hardship,” she said, a little distantly, as all her attention was focused on the task in her hands. “I shall survive without it.”

On their bed, Freya the cat yawned, very sweetly, before readjusting her position, standing up and walking in a circle, then settling down and returning to her slumber.

“Still,” said Percy, “I recall the many trials and tribulations which my mother endured before she had borne my sister; if there is something which I can do to ease your burden at all, I should very much like to do so.”

Sighing sharply through her nose, Percy tensed, fearful that she would refuse him outright out of pride, only for him to relax as she merely tugged her comb through a particularly stubborn knot of hair. His fingers twitched in the folds of his clothes, his very nerve endings alight with the mere thought of feeling the soft, golden strands for themselves. He felt, somewhat worryingly, as though he had begun to develop a minor obsession with the feeling of her hair, every time it brushed up against his skin as she moved against him on the cart, or rolled over towards him in their shared bed. To watch her daily ritual, an act so tired and uneventful to her, yet one so captivating to him, with such eagerness and attention would have seemed, on any other man, to be the mark of ill-temperament and evil tidings. Percy, however, was able to content himself with merely looking.

“In truth,” she said, “it is not the olives themselves which I crave, though there is not much I would not do for such a treasure. Just as your child preferred the sea, I can only assume that my current propensity for salt is your doing as well.”

“Salt?”

“Salt,” she confirmed. “Any salty food will do, I think.”

“Salt,” he repeated, suddenly thoughtful. Salty foods were certainly in great supply here in the North; now a whole new world had been opened to him. Then--”You believe that I am the cause of this?” he asked, frowning.

Indelicate, she raised a brow at him. “Are you not? Why else would I have such a craving for saltwater?”

“I thought you wished for olives.”

“Olives?” She made a face. “I think not.”

Percy blinked, feeling as though he had missed a vital step in their conversation. “I beg your pardon?”

Huffing, she threw her comb down, evidently done with her grooming for the night. “Never you mind! I wish to retire.” She stood, undoing the various ties and laces of her dress, while Percy stared at her in slack-jawed awe and confusion. “Go and… cavort with a young man, if one should make himself available to you.”

Then throwing back the covers of the bed, disturbing poor, sweet, Freya, who leapt to the floor, her ears turned back in displeasure, she climbed underneath them, turning away from Percy.

It was barely evening. The sun could still be seen from the window.

“I… very well,” he said, carefully. “If it please you, I shall go and fetch us some food.”

“Do whatever you wish,” she replied, muffled by the sheets. “Good night.”

Feeling very much as though he had just summoned, and then subsequently banished, a hurricane, Percy retreated from their rented room, shutting the door as quickly and quietly as possible so as not to disturb his wife.

That was… unusual.

Not, the constant, shifting hunger pangs, mind; his mother had had similar, if perhaps less intense, culinary desires which could turn on a lira at any given moment. In truth, there was much about pregnancy for which he had already been prepared, having assisted his mother in the arrival of his little sister. When a woman was suffering such emotional and mental torment, it was best not to argue with her, and to placate her as quickly and thoroughly as one could, something which Percy was more than happy to do. No, what was strange was her peculiar comment, her order for him to go and seek out the company of someone else--of another man.

To abandon his wife for the pleasures of another was unthinkable, and not in the least because his spouse just so happened to be, in a bizarre twist of fate, the great love of his life. Again, he recalled how his mother would occasionally spit curses at her loving husband for the most minor of infractions, so the fact that Annabeth, who had tied herself to him in order to escape the pressures of an uncaring, unfamiliar political snare, who had, presumably, not gone into the arrangement expecting or even desiring of a child, and who, historically, had only barely tolerated his presence, was to be expected.

That she had specified he should search for the company of another man was the odd detail in this situation.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him how he had not eaten since this morning, so consumed was he in the hunt for olives, and so he made his way downstairs to the ground floor of the inn, to purchase some dinner for himself--and for Annabeth also, who would almost certainly be ravenous when she awoke, and hopefully, in something of a happier mood.

***

They had picked up a fellow traveler in the city of Lipsi , who had warned them off continuing further down the Via Imperii . “Many wars,” he had said, “much fighting--it would not do for your lovely wife to be caught up in all of that.”

As much as Percy wished to protest, that Annabeth was more than capable of handling herself, even in such a state, she had been so fatigued as of late that he did not wish to risk her safety. Therefore, himself, Annabeth, and the traveler, an itinerant monk named Johann, turned West instead, along the Via Regia . The detour would not put them too far off--once they reached the  city of Trever , they could then turn South, towards Basler , and continue through the valley.

Percy and Annabeth had come upon the man as he rested by the side of the road, his curiously shaven head something of a beacon in the dark, green forest. Though Annabeth had initially protested, Percy, being in possession of a horse cart, felt offering him assistance would have been, at least, the polite thing to do. Now they sat all three of them in the front of the cart, Percy in the center with Johann to his left, while Annabeth alternately dozed off, attended to her knitting, a blanket in the making, or stroked sweet little Freya, who had become ever more protective of her mistress’ growing belly.

He was an interesting man, this Johann, pleasant and good-natured. He had embarked on a cross-continental journey of his own, one which ranged from his hometown of Cölln , all the way to the resting place of St. James in Hispania . “Fifteen hundred miles,” he said, ruefully, in perfect Italian, “and I am the poor fool who twists his ankle barely out of his own door.”

“Lady Fortuna must pass us all over some time,” said Percy.

“On the contrary,” said the monk, “your presence is proof of her blessing.”

Perhaps it was his joviality, or perhaps it was the warm sun, beating down on them, wrapping Percy in comfort, but he was in a merry mood as well. “I would have thought you to say that all blessings came from the Lord.”

“And who is to say He did not send you to me, miserable thing that I am?” said Johann. “There is a story I heard once, of a man who found himself in a lake. A pious, devoted man, he had only the utmost, unwavering faith in our Lord, faith that He would deliver the man from the waters before he drowned. Well, by and by, a man comes up to him in a canoe. ‘Sir,’ says the sailor to the man, ‘there is space in my vessel here; climb aboard, and I shall bring you to land.’ But the man refuses, saying, ‘I have faith in the Lord. He shall save me.’ And the sailor goes on. Not long after, another man comes up to him, in yet another canoe. ‘Sir,’ says the second sailor, ‘I have come to rescue you, for the waters are bitter cold, and my wife has a warm fire and a dry bed reserved for your use.’ But once again, the man refuses, saying, ‘I shall remain, for the Lord shall see me through.’ Well,” Johann shrugged, the corners of his lips tugging in a smile, “predictably, this poor, pious man drowns after some time. A person of deepest faith, he arrives at the gates of Heaven, whereupon he is given an interview with our Lord Christ, and he asks, ‘my God, my God, I had unwavering faith in your infinite mercy. Why did you not deliver me from the watery depths?’”

Clearly a practiced storyteller, he paused, a silence which begged to be filled by his audience. “And?” asked Percy. “What did he say?”

“At this question, our Lord Christ shakes his head, and says to the man, ‘My child, there was not much more that I could have done, for you refused the two boats which I sent to you.’”

Percy couldn’t help it--he laughed. “I daresay,” he said, “I have never met a man of the cloth so jovial as you.”

“That is what sunlight does to a man,” said Johann, full of good humor. “My brothers may think they have the better of it, sheltered from wind and rain with their books, but to cage me within four walls was anathema to my entire being, for I have always had a singular talent for making things grow. Did not all of creation begin in a garden? Thus, the gardener is a blessed man indeed.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled, a little uneasily. That Percy and Annabeth were not, strictly speaking, devotees of the trinity, and did not quite understand the finer details of the faith, had not quite come up in conversation yet. He sincerely hoped Johann would not ask.  

“But you did not tell me your destination,” said the monk, looking on them both eagerly. “What calling of yours caused our two paths to intertwine?”

Percy glanced towards Annabeth, who had decided to ignore their sudden companion altogether, in favor of observing the trees as they passed. “My… wife and I are on our way to Venice.”

Such a simple phrase, “my wife,” yet Percy could not think of another combination of syllables which had ever given him nearly the same kind of joy.

“Venice, eh? That is quite the journey. Are you on a pilgrimage as well?”

“Ah, no--well--” Though, he considered, were they not? They went to seek spiritual enlightenment of a sort in a far off land. Did that not count as a pilgrimage by any standard? Certainly not in the sense which the good monk was implying, yet nonetheless, it was indeed a pilgrimage. The only difference was that they were not at all certain their destination held the answers which they sought. “We are hoping to… find our fortune there.”

Johann looked him up and down, and then at Annabeth. “Your fortune?” He asked. “I must commend you, sir, for you do not look like you need another one.”

Feeling the telltale flush in his cheeks, he glanced once again towards Annabeth, who, strangely, acted as though she hadn’t heard his comment. He was correct, of course, but Percy was not certain if he appreciated other men saying so--even a man of the cloth.

But the monk continued. “Venice is supposed to have one of the most magnificent cathedrals in all of Christendom: the Chiesa d’Oro . They say it is modeled on the great St. Sophia of Constantinople--of course, I have never seen it myself, so I cannot verify such a claim.”

Even the thought of St. Sophia, of her golden domes and radiant light, made Percy’s heart ache for home--a home to which he could never return. “St. Sophia was a masterpiece to behold,” said Percy, a little wistfully. “I am hard-pressed to imagine another temple quite as awe-inspiring.”

With a little thrill in his gaze, Johann leaned in, closer to Percy. “You have beheld the Church of the Holy Wisdom for yourself? Is it as beautiful as they say?”

“More than that, sir, there is no other place quite like it. To tell you truly,” he said, chuckling a little, “my wife and I both hail from Constantinople.”

For a moment, Annabeth looked up and over at him and their companion, narrowing her eyes, but then she just frowned and went back to her knitting.

Johann frowned as well, though more confused than upset, unlike his wife. “From the city itself, you say?”

Percy nodded.

“Then, if I may be so bold, how have you found yourself in these parts? Unless I am very much mistaken, one does not usually feel the need to travel to Saxonia on one’s journey to Venice from the holy lands.”

“Not usually, no,” said Percy. “However, the two of us, we were…” He paused, uncertain of how much information he was willing to share with this virtual stranger. “I was stationed on the walls,” he said. “We fled the city just as the Ottomans broke the siege, then traveled North, to her cousin’s estates.”

“I see,” said the monk. “You were deep in the thick of it, then?”

The all-consuming flames and the blood-curdling screams of his memory, they faded more and more each day, as all battles did, for he was a soldier first and foremost, and war tended to blur together after a point. By contrast, sometimes he still awoke in a cold sweat, drumbeats in his ears as he relived the terror and panic of watching the gods flee the city in which they had dwelt for a thousand years, no more powerful than a crop of refugees. “Yes,” he said. “We were.”

Johann hummed, linking his hands together. “The loss of life is always a tragedy,” he said, “even that of a heretic. Alas, that the city of Constantine fell so far from grace that they had to be punished so!”

Percy shifted, uncomfortable.

“Yet,” he went on, still in that same, blasted, affable tone, “even in the face of great sorrow, there is cause to celebrate, for the Lord saw fit to spare you and your wife, and see you to safe harbors, no?”

He glanced towards Annabeth, who continued at her weaving, seemingly unaware of the monk’s comments. “Well, I--”

“If you will permit me, sir, let me bless your wife and unborn child, so that he or she may grow strong and pious in the loving embrace of the Lord.” And he opened his hands, all set to begin his little ritual.

With a thought, Percy pulled their cart to a stop, suddenly, bracing an outstretched arm against Annabeth so she would not be knocked forward. Freya, jolted from her mid-morning nap, mewed, pitiful. “Percy,” said Annabeth, in their own tongue, “what--”

“This is where we part ways,” said Percy to the Christian man. “Disembark, and quickly.”

He sat, slack-jawed. “I beg your pardon?”

If Percy had been more in control of his emotions, then he may not have uttered his next words. However, later on, he found he did not regret them. “My wife and I are not interested in blessings from your trinity gods.”

“My--” he sputtered. “You--”

“I will not repeat myself--you are no longer welcome to travel with us.”

His pale skin flushed with anger, the monk chose not to argue with him, but did disembark, as though he could no longer bear their presence. “Heathen,” he hissed. “The Lord knows your heart, and for your lack of faith, He shall smite you down to the depths of the underworld.”

Possessed of a fury he did not know he could feel, Percy drew himself up to his full height, reaching deep within himself to the core of his being, the part of him which could summon typhoons, slay monsters, and cause the very earth beneath them to split--the part which could more than terrify a simple fool. “And there we shall be welcomed as heroes,” he said, “for we personally know the lord of the dead himself.”

White with terror, the monk touched his face and shoulders, chanting Latin beneath his breath. Leaving him to it, Percy snapped the reins on the horse, and they took off once more, leaving Johann in the dust.

Annabeth, twisted around in her seat, peered back at the retreating figure of their one-time travelling companion. “Do not mistake my confusion for disappointment,” she said, “for I, too, am glad to be rid of him, though I must say, that was very suddenly done.”

Percy scoffed, twisting the reins between his fingers, something with which to ground himself. “Had I known what he would offer,” he nearly growled, “I would have expelled him sooner.”

Curious, she tilted her head. “What offer was so odious as to force him from your sight?”

Blinking, Percy turned towards her. As always, his heart raced at the sight of those grey eyes on him, though at this moment they were wide in innocent confusion. Percy frowned. He had thought she was a better listener than he, on most occasions. “His offer to bless us in the name of his lord.”

Her eyes widened. “Is that what he said?”

“Did you not hear him?”

“I did,” she huffed, annoyed. Again. She seemed often annoyed with him these days. “But as I cannot understand Italian, clearly I missed a few things.”

She--”You--what?”

Lips pursed, heat rushed to her cheeks, though she did not let up on her steely stare. “Yes?”

“You cannot speak Italian?”

“I have just told you so.”

“But--” Percy sputtered. “But--how did you--how did you take orders from your commander?”

The Venetians and the Genoese had comprised most of the command posts on the wall and had not bothered to learn the local language for themselves. Knowledge of Italian, therefore, had been crucial to the defense of the city, something Annabeth would certainly have known.

“My commander was a fool and a drunkard,” she said, turning her nose up, “and perished one night after he fell off the wall.”

“Then… who--” But he stopped himself before he could finish his question, for there was only one reasonable answer. “You took command of your unit.”

“Obviously.”

“And none of your men took issue with a woman leading them into battle?”

Her stern gaze transformed into a glare, narrowed and piercing. “Not when it guaranteed them victory.”

For a moment, Percy could do nothing but stare right back, in disbelief and incredulity. She must have led her little cohort for months, the warrior woman of Constantinople, Areia made flesh. No wonder the northern portion of the wall held for so long.

Then, out of nowhere, he laughed.

“And what, pray tell, is so amusing?” his wife asked, lips thin, brow furrowed.

“Nothing, nothing,” he chortled. He could not say from where such delight had come, nor why it had suddenly taken him over thus. Perhaps it was simply the knowledge that, no matter how much time had passed, Annabeth’s character remained remarkably consistent from the first day he had known her. She would always find a way to command, to control--and, save one obvious exception, to deliver victory. “Oh, Anja,” he said, fondness warming him up from the inside out, “I beg of you, do not ever change.”

“I shall endeavor not to.” She said, faintly. She seemed at a loss for words for several moments, a rarity with her, then spoke once more. “You… you called me Anja.”

Percy frowned, “I know I struggle with your northern tongue, did I not pronounce it correctly?” He had attempted to divine the subtleties in the difference between the Ana that he had always known her to be, and the Anja her family called her, but perhaps he had been mistaken.  

“No.” Softly, sweetly, a smile curled the straight lines of her mouth, even as she turned her face out to watch the trees as they passed, raising a hand to rest delicately on her stomach. “You were perfect.”

***

Percy laid out his cloak over the smoothest rock he could find. It was a nice cloak, of a much higher quality fabric and weave than to which he was most accustomed. Had he been a smarter man, most likely he would not have used the garment for such a task as this--but he was used to his clothes being worn out, multipurpose things. The hot velvet could find another use as a blanket until the warmth of early summer passed them by.

Having prepared her seat, he then rushed back to the wagon, reaching his hand out for Annabeth to steady herself on it. “I am not an invalid,” she chided, stretching her leg down to the earth. “You do not have to take such precaution with me.”

“It is no trouble.” The days, slowly but surely, were getting longer, Helios’ chariot lingering for a few more minutes every evening. They could certainly afford to stop and rest for a while should she require it. Once she had revealed to him her condition, he had resolved to mold the pace of their journey to her level of comfort and satisfaction. To ensure her health and the health of their child, Percy could stand a few unexpected delays.

Supporting her with his arm, he led her to the makeshift seat of stone, situated in a patch of sunlight bracketed by the shadows of the trees behind them. With an adorable little grunt, her sweet face scrunched up, she sat down upon it, sighing in relief. “There,” she breathed, hanging her head. “That’s better.”

The town of Trever was still a little ways off, but they could still see the rise of the town walls over the rolling hills. He noted, with some displeasure, the towering spindle resting on top of the ancient gate--was there nothing these trinity men would not claim for themselves?--but chased the thought from his mind, focusing instead on the more pressing issue at hand. “What is wrong?”

She had not explicitly told him why they should stop, only that she was desperate for relief of some kind. Rather than push for a reason, he had chosen instead to indulge her. “Some water, please?” she asked, her face drawn.

Nearly tripping over himself, he leapt up onto the wagon to retrieve the water skin before delivering it to her, kneeling down before her. “Are you alright?” he asked again, hiding his concern as best he could. She did not like him to fret so much over her--not that she could stop him.

“I am fine,” she promised. “Your child is just--very active.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”

She nodded. “Here--feel.” Then, without hesitation, she grasped his hand, and placed it over her stomach.

Percy, by design, had refrained himself from touching her in any manner that was not explicitly one of acquaintanceship since that wonderful, terrible night, not in any meaningful way. In turn, she had not, precisely, refused his company, but had kept him at something of a distance, emotionally if not physically, likely for his own protection. But now she had initiated contact, had invited him in, and Percy was once again caught up in the sublime experience which was being close to Annabeth Fredriksdotter. Her hair, nearly twice as long as it was when they had arrived in Svealand, was bound up in an intricate knot, though loose, gilded strands fell out here or there, as she had left her head uncovered today, insisting that it was too hot for her wimple. Percy understood that it was key to her modesty as a married woman to cover her head, even if she was married to the likes of him, though he could not pretend he did not dislike it, at times. If only she would look at him, though, grace him with her lovely gaze, rather than their joined hands.

So distracted by the sunlight filtering through her hair that he nearly missed it.

A small, nearly imperceptible jolt beneath his fingertips.

Then he felt it again.

He recognized the feeling--it was one he recognized from when his mother was pregnant with his dear, sweet little Esther. “Is that…” he said, trailing off, softly so as not to disturb the moment.

“That,” said his wife, jovial, “is the little monster which has been causing me so much distress recently.”

Swallowing, he blinked back the sudden heat from his eyes. “Oh,” he said, pulling his emotions together so he did not weep. “I am sorry.”

“As you should be,” she said, but she was grinning at him. “Your child is kicking me in the ribs--a skill I am quite certain he got from you.”

He . She thought they were going to have a son.

Something in her smirk riled an old part of his brain. “Kicking was always your maneuver,” he accused, smiling in turn. “If she is kicking,” he insisted, emphasizing the opposite sex purely on principle alone, “it is surely due to her mother’s influence.”

She rolled her eyes at the reference. “Oh, please do not say you are still sore from--”

“I swear, to this day, I still bear the marks from the force of your blow!”

“I have seen you without clothes on,” Annabeth said, “and you have no such mark, believe me.”

A silence fell between the two of them, chilly and awkward. She did not attempt to remove his hand from her person, and nor did he wish to remove it.

“It occurs to me,” she said quietly, after some time, “that I… I have never apologized for how I treated you back then.”

Rubbing his thumb against the fabric of her dress, he shrugged. “That time has long since passed,” he murmured, “and we are two very different people now. Let the past remain in the past, I say.”

“Still. I was--very cruel to you,” she said. “I should not have said those things.”

She had been very cruel. Percy had returned to the agoge after a year and a half spent with the Legion, expecting open arms and welcome smiles from his friends and brothers in arms, only to be met with scorn and derision from the one person whom he had most wanted to see.

After the war with the titans, they had only been granted a short reprieve before they had received an envoy from Aachen, begging Percy’s help with a monster which they simply could not fight on their own, diminished as they were in the realm of Karolus Magnus , far from their ancestral home. Never one to turn down a cry for help, Percy had entreated Annabeth and their former questing companion now turned Lord of the Wild to accompany him. Unfortunately, in the snowy mountains of Dardania, they were ambushed by monsters, and separated. By the time Percy came to his senses, he was in the tender grip of the Latins, and Annabeth was long gone.

A naturally distrustful lot, they would not let him free until he had proven his loyalty to the rootless empire, and they sent him away to train with their patroness in the wilds. Once Lupa deemed him worthy of service, upon his return, they then put him to work, pairing him with his Latin counterpart, the son of Jupiter.

Again, he felt no shame with what he had with Iason. Theirs had been a soldiers’ romance, brief, but deep, intense and overwhelming. In truth, he would not have fallen in with the man, save for that he had been under the impression that Annabeth had left him to his doom in the mountains. The Latins had intimated to him evidence of a person’s quick retreat where they had found him, and had let him come to his own conclusions.

Once the giant Polybotes had been slain, then, and Percy had been released from unwilling service, he had been allowed to return to the shores of Constantinople. There he had received something of a hero’s welcome, with all due honors and celebrations--except, of course, from Annabeth, who had been decidedly not happy with his return. Feelings between them grew fouler and fouler, until, one fateful day, as they were practicing their weapons’ routines on each other’s persons, more hateful words had been traded rather than blows. Quickly, what had been a skilled and professional match devolved into something dirty and mean, filthy trick after filthy trick, until she had kicked him square in the ribs, knocking him flat onto the ground, hissing from between bloodied teeth how she would have preferred it if he had died in Dardania.

After that, Percy had promptly departed for his father’s palace, seeking escape in the form of good cheer and happier people, chasing away his broken heart in the arms of Thetis, and others.

They had not shared a serious or friendly conversation for years--not until the morning the Ottomans broke through the defense of the city.

“Think nothing of it,” he said, unwilling to dwell on that time any longer than he had to. He would not say it was alright, for it was not, but he also had let go of that animosity many months before, in the shadow of the Erechtheion.

“You must understand,” she went on, a little forceful, “I was not angry with you, but with myself. I thought I had lost you to a fate unspeakable--”

“I am not certain I would classify Latin conscription as a fate unspeakable,” said Percy, dryly.

She flushed. “I--I only meant--”

“Annabeth,” he said, not wanting to tread this ground any further, “let it be done. Please.”

“After the war,” she spoke, urgently, “I thought… I had--thought that we would… well.” All at once, she slumped as though the very breath had gone out of her, removing her hand from his, nearly curling into herself. “I suppose,” she murmured, “it no longer matters what I thought.”

She did not need to clarify. He knew perfectly well what she had meant. It was not much of a secret that Percy and Annabeth had held some youthful affection for each other, not even from each other. So easily it could have blossomed into something stronger. “I wanted to,” he said, craning his neck to meet her eyes so she could see the truth of it. He had wanted to, and had planned to. But he was no fool, for he knew that a man needed a way of supporting a family before he could start one. The expedition to Aachen, that would have been his ticket into some of the upper echelons of Constantinople; a letter of introduction from a tribune, prefect, or even a centurion would have done wonders for his social standing and finances. “I swear, I wanted to, but then…”

Her lips lifted in a small smile. Not one of happiness, no. She knew all too well the things they had done to each other, the barbs they had hurled and the wounds they had inflicted. It was the acknowledgement of old sorrows and long-ignored pain which caused her to smile, a pain shared and understood only by the man before her. “As you stated,” she said, “we are now different people, and we cannot dwell on what may have transpired between us.”

A satisfactory answer--tragic, yes, but satisfactory nonetheless. “But we are friends, yes?” he asked, hoping for a little salve for his broken heart.

She raised her head, grey eyes clear and steady. “It is my very honor, Perseus,” said she, a pronouncement handed down from the empress herself, “to call you my friend--my dearest friend.”

It was not exactly what a husband might want to hear from his wife, nor what a man might want from the woman he loved about all things. But for Percy, it would be enough. It was Anja Elisabet Fredriksdotter: her hand, her child, her friendship. Perhaps one day, that friendship could be transmuted into something more affectionate, but Percy would not waste his time waiting for a day which would never come, not when she was here, before him, solid and tangible.

“Percy,” she said, very sweetly, “as wonderful as this is, unfortunately, I must ask you to give me some privacy at this time.”

“Oh,” he staggered to his feet, snatching his hand back. “Of course.” This, too, was a symptom of pregnancy with which he was quite familiar. His poor mother’s body had been pushed to its very limit, and she had had to relieve herself quite often. “I shall leave you to it, then.”

Then, face red, he trotted round to the other side of the wagon, where, paradoxically, he could better protect her.

***

Percy blinked, uncomprehending. “I beg your pardon?”

“I merely said,” she repeated, unconcerned, “that you no longer have to keep up the pretense. It has been months since I have had such voracious cravings, yet you continue to make a show of your search. It is natural for men to wish time for themselves--I know very well what a man can do with this time away from his wife.” She looked on him flatly, as though she thought he was the fool  for thinking her to be one instead. “I am more than capable of amusing myself for a few hours. Please, go on--I am sure the good people of the brothel await.”

The--”I would not do that to you,” said Percy, quietly, a little insulted. Did she truly think so low of him that he would make good on his long-forgotten promise to abandon her to her freedom? Did she not understand that dreams of their brief time together would sustain him as water in a desert, and yet ruin him for any other man or woman? “If you do not believe me, then I insist you accompany me,” he said, firmly. “Allow me to put these thoughts of yours to rest.”

She looked out the window of their little room, where the sun hung low in the sky over Messalia . It had been a hot, July mid-morning when they rambled into town, looking for a place to stay the night before they would put to sea the next day, the streets and corners quiet as the people retreated to their homes for their daily rest. Now, as the shadows began to stretch, the city came to life once more, the hustle and bustle of commerce a dull roar beneath the room in the little inn which they had rented. Through the air wafted the scents of spices, coal fire, and the blessed salt smell of the sea, the glittering, golden jewel that lay beyond the walls. “Very well,” she said. “I believe I shall. A walk outside may do me some good.”

With some difficulty, as her large stomach made everything rather difficult for her these days, she managed to stand up from the low bed, reaching for her wimple which she had discarded previously. Tying it about her face, he was once again struck by the duality of his emotions, that he could feel so disheartened and yet so elated by the same action. Her wimple covered all of her gorgeous, golden hair, as modesty dictated it must, yet the act of hiding such beauty signified, once again, that she was his wife--a cause for great celebration, if only in his heart.

And so they went together on the town.

It was an absolutely marvelous time.

Once again, the sea infused his senses and soothed his entire being--a familiar sea this time, not the strange, frigid waters of the north, but the deep lapis and emerald of his childhood. Every shaft of sunlight felt as the touch of a friendly hand, and every shadow a cool breeze of relief. Together, arm in arm, they wandered up and down the markets, where Annabeth used the time given to her to practice her Italian. She was a remarkably quick study, as he knew she would be, though it did help that the merchants here were much more familiar with that language than they had been further north.

By now, Percy had been to markets practically all over the world. Each one was unique, distinct, with its own set of sights and sounds and smells, and yet, each one had been positively lackluster, almost grey in his memory. Not many men were fortunate enough to have seen so much of the known world, and had lived to tell the tale of it. Today, however, walking about with his eight month pregnant wife in the streets of Messalia, he finally understood what they all had been lacking.

So caught up in his wife’s lovely smile as she admired a particularly ripe set of figs, that he accidentally barreled into another person, spilling the contents of their arms all over the ground. Fruit went tumbling, smashing the earth in rich, dark colors, staining the well-worn streets. “Ah, perdono !” he cried, dropping to his knees to help gather up the items which could be salvaged. “ Scusatemi !”

“ Non, non, mon sieur ,” said the woman, joining him on the ground, “ perdon , per … Percy?”

At the sound of his name, his head snapped up.

She was an older woman, with long, thick brown hair streaked with grey, and eyes that shifted color in the low light. Her skin was tanned a deep brown from hours spent in the sun, and though her face was lined with age, none would look on her and not consider her to be a great beauty.

They stared at each other, in shock and disbelief.

“Percy?” called Annabeth, faint in his ears. “I am in need of your assistance, as I cannot remember the world you taught me--”

“Oh!” wept the older woman, dropping the rest of the fruit she had gathered onto the street, opening her arms to hold him. “It is you!”

And with a deep, wrenching sob, pulled from his chest, Percy threw himself into the warm embrace of his mother.

“ Mater , mater ,” he moaned, burying his face into her chest as she held him close. “Oh, mater !”

“I knew it, I just knew it,” she was saying, over and over again, clutching him to her breast, kissing his forehead, “I knew you had made it out. Oh, lord of the sea, earth-shaker in the swelling brine, thank you, thank you, thank you for my son!”

So caught up in the sudden wave of emotion, he was rendered nearly mute. “Mother,” he finally croaked, taking in the warm, sweet scent of her--cinnamon and cloves and sea salt. To think that he had almost forgotten the particular details, hands calloused from years of cooking, eyes twinkling like stars on the surface of the water. “Mother!”

“My boy!” Sally pulled back, raking her hands through his hair, pushing it from his face so she could look on him more clearly. “Oh, my boy, I never thought I would see you again!”

“Nor I you,” he replied, tears blurring his vision. “How--how are you here?”

“I could ask you the very same,” she said, smiling the sweet summer smile which had lit his childhood as a candle in the dark, “and I will hear all of it--but for now, let me simply look upon you! It has been far, far too long since I have seen your smiling face.”

He was smiling, so wide and genuine that it caused his face to ache, a pain he was more than happy to bear, down on his knees in the middle of Messalia. “I have missed you, mater ,” he said, “so much.”

“Percy?”

Blinking, he came back to himself, emerging from the dream so suddenly made real. The populace of Messalia were not giving them so wide a berth, just barely sparing the two the indignity of being walked all over. Annabeth stood a little ways away, her hand resting on her protruding stomach, light concern falling over her face like a veil.

“Mother,” he said, seized with a strange kind of energy, “here.” With steady hands, he lifted her up from the ground, the ruined fruit forgotten. Annabeth stepped closer to them, trepidation slowing her pace. She had already met his mother a number of times--they had often taken rest at her house when a quest required them to take their leave from the agoge for several days at a time--but even he understood that to meet her as his wife was a vastly different thing.

But his mother, quick as ever, cottoned onto the truth of the matter. “Percy,” she breathed, full of disbelief, “is that--”

“You remember Annabeth,” said Percy, nerves seizing his tongue and nearly stopping it in his mouth, “my--my wife.”

How strange, that weeks ago, the two syllables represented one of the happiest truths of his life, and yet today, he felt as anxious as a baby colt learning to walk for the first time, desperate for the two most important women in his world to feel some sort of kinship.

His mother gasped, her hands flying to her face. “Annabeth!” she cried, taking her in her arms without hesitation. “Your wife! How wonderful! Oh, blessed day that made your way here!”

Annabeth stood there, quite shocked, before bringing her arms up as well.

“Oh, goodness,” said his mother, pulling herself back, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Look at me--I apologize for such unbecoming behavior. But you must come back with me--Paul and Esther will be overjoyed--I will need to purchase some wine--”

It was then that Percy remembered he had, quite indirectly, ruined her groceries. Fruit was not inexpensive, and neither was wine. Percy knew his mother, and he knew she would wish to cook for him in celebration, but he would not see her waste any more of her money on his account. “Allow me,” he said, placing a hand on her arm. “I shall pay you back in full, and then some. Ah, if,” he glanced towards Annabeth, seeking her permission, for it was her money after all, “if that is alright, of course.”

She looked at him, quizzically. “Of course it is alright.”

“Percy,” sighed his mother, “you do not need to--”

“It is settled, then!” Taking her arm in his, he directed them to the fruit seller whom Annabeth had been speaking to just prior, unwilling to let go of his mother for even a second. “We shall have a veritable feast!”

***

Paul, his mother’s husband, had wept upon seeing them. Dear, sweet little Esther refused to let go of her elder brother, stubbornly clinging to his leg. Eventually, she had tired herself out, the poor thing, only allowing her father and Annabeth to take her to bed when she had nearly fallen asleep in his lap. Percy had tried to persuade Annabeth to relax, but she had insisted, looking on Esther with such sweetness and doting in her eyes that Percy found himself hard-pressed to say no. Perhaps she would be so sweet and affectionate with their daughter, as well. The very thought excited him in ways he could not quite describe.

If she was forced to be a mother, then, perhaps it would not be the harshest of fates.

“I am so glad, Percy,” said his own mother, once he had recounted to her the whole, winding tale of his and Annabeth’s journey. Her looking at him with such fondness, it transported him back to that dark, bleak time, when they were all that each other could claim to call their own. Now look at them--families and children, both. Beneath the thumb of a monstrous man, sometimes it was difficult to imagine otherwise. “When the news of Constantinople’s fall reached us… yet I kept the faith. I knew you would survive, and I am so glad you had someone with you.”

He smiled, taking her hands in his, kissing the knuckles there. “All I learned of survival,” he said, “I learned from you.”

She squeezed his hands, warm and solid.

“But you must tell me how you came to Messalia,” said Percy, before he could begin to weep. “How is it you found your way to this place?”

His mother lifted her shoulders, tilting her head. “My story is not nearly so exciting as yours, I can promise you that. Our voyage out of Constantinople was swift and peaceful, and we arrived on the shores of this city far faster than we thought possible.”

“That was my father,” said Percy. “In Svealand, I had a dream of him--he bade me to send you his love.”

Her countenance transforming, she smiled, sweetly, knowingly, a glint in her eye which lifted years off of her face. “I had wondered,” she said, “for our voyage did seem unusually safe.” Then she shook her head, lightly, casting off whatever memories had come to her in that moment. “What else did he tell you?”

Much that he wished to keep to himself, though he was sure she would understand. “Have you ever heard of the city of old soldiers?” he asked his mother instead. He felt all of fourteen years old once more, seeking his mother’s guidance, begging for wisdom from a woman of keen sight and keener instinct.

Frowning, she turned her gaze towards the open window, to the stars which were beginning to show their faces. “I do not know this city of which you speak,” she said quietly.

Percy sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Yet,” said his mother, “I, too, have had some extraordinary dreams as of late.”

At that, he perked up once more, leaning in to listen better. As she had told him, once upon a time, her sight had waned alongside her youth, though she could still occasionally perceive that which lay just beyond the comprehension of most mortals. “What have you seen?” he asked, breathless.

She closed her eyes, recalling. “In a city on a river,” she said, “there is a grand building--a church, made of marble, white and green, and above it rests a red dome, reaching towards the sky, as though it longs to return from whence it came.”

“A city on a river,” he repeated. Another clue--yet, just as many cities had rivers as they did old soldiers.

“I apologize, my son,” said his mother, opening her eyes once more. “This is all I know.”

He squeezed her hands, comforting. “Think nothing of it. We have already decided to seek our fortune in Venice--I have been told that their church there was modeled on St. Sophia. Perhaps this is the dome of which you speak.”

“Perhaps,” she said, unconvinced. “But must you leave us so soon? You will do well in Venice, of that I have no doubt, yet I do not know if I can bear to be apart from you once again. And,” then she grinned, her eyes suddenly sparkling, “I should very much like to meet your child.”

Percy blinked at her, processing what she was saying. Then he flushed, grinning weakly in return. “Ah, yes, well… I should like you to meet her as well.”

Certainly, he possessed no gift of prophecy--he was not, as it were, a child of Apollo--but he found himself dreaming more and more of that little girl with his wife’s lovely hair and eyes, like the children who dressed as St. Lucy. A little girl whom he could lavish all fatherly love and affection upon, rather than a wife who would find it a nuisance at best. She would be his princess; and if her mother could be persuaded, he would call her his Anja.

The lines on her face ran deep, carved from years of laughter and joy which poured forth from her like the sun itself. “Even at such a young age, I could sense the fondness and affection you had for each other. You do not know how happy I am for the two of you.”

A fondness and affection which had now faded on her part--but at least they had resolved to remain friends in a marriage of trust and support, if not love. “When I have made enough money,” he promised, to take his mind off of his situation, “I will send for you and your family, and we will never be parted again. In fact,” he said, struck with sudden inspiration. Rummaging through the various folds of his clothing, he located his purse which carried the rest of the money he had on him, then placed it in his mother’s hand. “Here. A gift, to a wonderful mother from her loving son.”

“Percy,” she tutted, brow furrowed. “Do not concern yourself with me. We are comfortable here, Paul and I; you must focus all of your resources on providing for your own family now.”

“Annabeth has more than enough to provide for herself, her dowry was immense. More land than I thought possible, sold for more money.” he said. “She and our children--our child,” he corrected, cursing himself for his weak tongue, and praying his mother had not caught it, “our child will be kept in comfort for the rest of their days. I carry only a bit for pocket change, so she need not do all the bartering for me. You have done so much for me--please, allow me to do this for you.”

“What do you mean?” his mother asked, picking up the purse, surprised by the weight of it. He observed as she untied the cord, and spilt the contents on her table, the gold coins clinking against each other ever so noisily. “Is it not your money now?”

“I suppose, legally , yes.” he conceded. “But the land we--she gained from her uncle is ancient family land. It would not do for me to leech such things away from her.” Bad enough that she had to be tied to him in motherhood and marriage, but he would not stoop so low as to usurp the use of her finances. “Once I arrive in Venice, I will then pay my own way,” he promised his mother, and his wife, though she was not there to hear him. “I will find work as a laborer, or if I am lucky, perhaps a ship will be in need of a sailor.”

“I suggest,” his mother said, “that you speak to your wife regarding such things.”

As much as he would have liked to protest, said wife reentered at that moment, helped along by Paul. “Percy,” she said, “the hour grows late, and we have left poor little Freya all by her lonesome.”

“Ah--of course,” said Percy, standing as well. Damn that cat, he thought. “Then I believe we must take our leave of you now, mother.”

“I understand,” she said, rising to see them out. “Will we see you again ‘ere you depart?”

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “I shall return to you once more.”

Then she swept him up in her arms again. “Until that happy time, my son.”

He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of oil and onion, cinnamon and cloves, hearth and home, and marveled again at the strength of his wife who had borne the pain of leaving her father to travel the world with someone like him. “Until then.”

#my fic #the marble king #pjo #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #darkmagyk #percyyoulittleshit #pataytayo #enjoy the idiots!!!!

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Right, since I’m thinking of it here’s another Wingfeather Falls idea I had:

So if I ever manage to write a Wingfeather Falls sequel the Wingfeathers (the kids+Nia, Arundelle, Artham & Fidds) are going to end up staying in Fiddleford’s mansion because there’s too many of them to fit in the Mystery Shack. And since nobody has lived there for a year it is absolutely a mess. Like everything is covered in dust, the garden and lawn are completely overrun with leaves, any food left in the house is completely rotten, it’s just a mess. And so naturally the Wingfeathers just. get to work on that immediately. Suddenly Nia and the girls are dusting and shaking out the rugs and Aurendelle has taken the boys out to work in the garden and Fiddleford is running around trying to help everyone and Artham is running around trying to help Fiddleford.

So as this is happening who happens to be going by but Pacifica, who just makes a habit of walking past her old house and wondering what happened to it as one does. And she hears all this commotion inside and is like ?!? because the general theory in Gravity Falls is that Fiddleford is dead but they never actually found his body and also he paid a lot of house payments in advance (so he didn’t forget) so they just. never resold the property (or declared him officially dead). But nothing has happened in the mansion for a year and suddenly there’s voices yelling and potentially explosions and is that a lawnmower, why is there screaming-

So naturally, since the gate just happens to be open, Pacifica sneaks in and is shocked to find people working away there.

She is even more shocked when Kalmar pops his head out of a hedge and says, “Hello!” very cheerfully. He tells her what’s going on (and that no Fiddleford is not dead “He’s our uncle” “What” “He’s our uncle. We adopted him.”) and then proceeds to offer to show her around and drags her through the hedge with him. She ends up helping them clean up and finds that it’s strangely enjoyable to hang out with these people.

Nia, of course, notices there is another child around but doesn’t think anything of it and treats Pacifica like any of her own kids. Arundelle notices too and does the same. Artham and Fidds only know she’s there because Fiddleford recognizes her and says hello.

At the end of the day the Wingfeather kids walk her home. They’re really surprised when she tells them that she’ll be in trouble for today because she was gone all day and is coming back late. They’re even more surprised when she tells them not to come to the door of her house with her because her parents will think they’re riff-raff.

“We’d have worn our fancy royal clothes mama made us pack if we’d known that!” says Kal, and that’s when Pacifica finds out they’re all royalty and Kalmar is the king?? Of a country???? The Wingfeather kids decide they are never going to get tired of people’s shocked reactions to this news. Anyway they drop Pacifica off and then sneak around and watch her get yelled at through a window and decide this is wrong and then Janner’s like, “I have an idea”.

So the next day the Wingfeather children dress up in their fancy clothes and march themselves to Pacifica’s house (with Artham along- also in fancy clothes- to make them look more official). There Kal does his best aloof king impression, Artham acts as their herald, and the kids ask to see their new friend. The Northwests are suitably impressed by this and let Pacifica go off with them. As soon as they’re away from her house the Wingfeather kids just all burst out laughing. Pacifica is. shocked these people she met yesterday would go to such lengths to keep her out of trouble.

At some point Dipper and Mabel find out about this and think it’s hilarious. They wholeheartedly approve.

From then on, whenever possible, the Wingfeather children whisk Pacifica off onto adventures with them and the Pines kids. At some point Pacifica’s parents do get suspicious of all this and start to doubt the Wingfeather kids are who they say they are. That’s when the kids send in Nia, because there is no one in any world who can deny that Nia is a Queen. That settles the matter. 

The best part is when the Wingfeathers convince Pacifica’s parents that Castle Rysen is a boarding school and that they should send their daughter there. Thus they get Pacifica out of her abusive situation and also adopt her. Because why the heck not.

I think she especially gets along with Sara because Sara’s a little less excitable than the other kids. 

So, yeah, there’s the idea that the Wingfeathers adopt Pacifica xD I don’t know, I just have a very strong feeling that this would work. (and I really love the image of Kal popping out of a bush at her)

@ash-grimmy

#gravity falls #the wingfeather saga #wingfeather falls #the wingfeathers #pacifica northwest #the wingfeathers can and will adopt half of gravity falls by the time this is over #they have adopted the entire pines family fiddleford and pacifica who is their next victim xD

[ltwilliammowett]

Wreck of the swedish Mars 1564

May I introduce ? this is the flagship of the Swedish Navy under King Erik XIV, the Mars Makalös (the flawless, sometimes also called the Jutehattars, Danish hater) from 1563.

It was part of a major armament campaign initiated by Erik to gain the final upper hand in the Baltic Sea and to force the countries, northern Germany, Denmark and the rest of Western Europe in their places.

Ship type, rigging and crew

She was built between 1561 and 1563 in Birkenes. Her master builder was Holger Ohlsson, a master shipbuilder from Stockholm. What kind of ship she exactly is not yet aware of, it seems to be suspected to be a mixture of Carrack and Caravel. Possibly it is an early galleon, a ship-of-the-line. She was 50 m long, about 13-15 wide and weighed about 1,800 tons. A ship of Mars size during this time may well have had four masts. On a copper plate showing the Mar´s downfall the ship has four masts. Possibly the Mars was one of the first vessels in Sweden who were fitted with a third sail, the “upper topsail” .

This is different from the few years older Elephant which only had two sails on the same mast. Mars may have had five or seven crow´s nest. The crew of Mars amounted to about 670 persons, of whom about 350 were boatmen and the other for the most part soldiers. Most of the sailors and soldiers were enlisted. On board the ship was also the admiral, the old trustworthy Jacob Bagge.

A drawing of the Mars by Jacob Hägg, 1909

Armament

Armament  could vary significantly from year to year, depending on availability and needs. Cannons were called simply called “shooter” and the different types went under a series of names, such kartoger , slangor (snakes) and falconets. Of these there were also classes, three forth kartoger, half kartoger and so on.

On Mars’ starboard side, the hull lists towards the seabed. Cannons still point out through their portholes.

Mars was almost exclusively armed with muzzle-loading bronze cannons, but they also had rapid-fire, but less powerful breechloader iron guns on board. There are various data on the number of guns in Mars, one source tells 173 and another 107 pieces, including:

   2 pieces of 48-pounder    2 pieces of 36-pounder    9 pieces of 24-pounder    10 pieces of 12-pounder    4 pieces of 9-pounder    20 pieces of 6-pounder    6 pieces of 3-pounder    4 pieces of stone boxes    50 Falkoner / falconets (light cannon)

The guns where cast in Stockholm, but also in Kalmar. Cannon carriages are manufactured at Norrmalm, Stockholm and Kalmar. On the English ship Mary Rose 1545, the big bronze cannons had “four roll boxes”, ie, carriages with four wheels. Iron / chamber guns were in carriages with two wheels. On board the Mars, there were 53 “boxes” (carriages) of unknown type. The building accounts of the ship Elephant from the same period mentioned installation of the “byssebänkar”  (shooting benches) which may have meant guns without wheeled carriages.

Cannon still sits in its carriage. To the right are rolls of lead, stacked. The lead was used for hull repairs but also for casting ammunition for muskets and small caliber cannons.

Ammunition

There were a variety of ammunition types on board in addition to round balls.  Chain shots where used to destroy the rig. The latter could also be used against the crew which also could face heavy hail from so-called scrap shots or canister shots. They also used the “fireworks”, incendiary grenades,  and fire-balls (container filled with flammable material).

Cannon ball made of stone most likely used in back-loaded iron cannons

Small arms

To fight the enemy before boarding, in addition to shooting scrap shots they made use of crossbows, bows, hook guns and muskets. For close combat axes and short spikes where the weapon of choice. There were different types of gunpowder, a faster burning “krönekrut” for muskets and a slower burning gunpowder for the cannons.

Nordic Seven Years’ War

Not much is known about Mars over the period immediately after its completion, and it has only had a short period of service. Its most important historical event was a battle in the Baltic Sea during the Three-Crown War, also known as the Nordic Seven Years’ War. During this conflict, the Kingdom of Denmark stood on one side, forming an alliance with the Hanseatic city of Lübeck and the Kingdom of Poland, and the Kingdom of Sweden on the other.

Sieg der Lübecker über die Schweden in der Seeschlacht bei Gotland am 31. Mai 1564/ Victory of the Lübeckers over the Swedes in the naval battle near Gotland on 31 May 1564 by Hans Bordt 1901 a wall painting on the wall of the red room , Lübecker city hall

On 30 May 1564, a two-day battle between the two conflicting parties took place in the Baltic Sea between the islands of Öland and Gotland. 16 Danish large ships led by Admiral Herluf Trolle and 10 Lübeck large ships led by Admiral Friedrich Knebel faced 16 Swedish large ships commanded by Admiral Jakob Bagge. On the first day the Swedish ships could inflict damage on their opponents after short but fierce battles. With nightfall the battle was interrupted and only continued the next day. When the wind changed on the second day, the Swedish ships had to retreat one after the other because of the unfavourable winds for them - only Mars continued fighting alone and was surrounded by the Allied supremacy. Mars nevertheless succeeded in sinking a Lübeck ship and damaging several Danish ships. The Lübeck Chronicle reports that the numerically superior allies succeeded in disabling Mars’ rudder  by gunfire. However, it was found undamaged on the seabed.

Battle of Öland 30 May 1564 by unknown artist

In the course of the following exchange of blows, the crew of Lübeck’s flagship Der Engel/ The Angel, led by Admiral Friedrich Knebel, applied Mars together with the ships Byens Løffue (Denmark) and the Lübeck Fuchs / Fox. In a very hard battle the crews succeeded in approaching Mars in such a way that it could be boarded. During the boarding the Swedish ship caught fire, which spread quickly. The Lübecker managed to capture the commander-in-chief of the Swedish fleet, Admiral Jakob Bagge, and his second-in-command Arvid Trolle. Finally, Mars exploded a short time later, when the Lübecker plundered  the ship’s magazine. 880 Swedes, Danes and Lübeckers were on the ship at that time. A large part of it drowned or became victim of the flames and/or the explosion pressure wave or flying explosion debris. Friedrich Knebel later reported to his superiors that “500 were killed, 100 were captured”. Jacob Bagge was imprisoned in Copenhagen and was released several years after the war. Mars finally sank to a depth of 75 m on 31 May 1564.

Finding the wreck

On 19 August 2011 it became known that the wreck of Mars was found by a team of divers at a depth of 75 metres, about 18.5 kilometres north of Öland. The archaeologists hope to find well-preserved artefacts and many new findings about the ship. The cold, low-oxygen water of the Baltic Sea offers ideal conditions for the conservation of the 400-year-old ship - especially as the wood-decomposing shipworm does not occur here either.

The Mars is very intact, in fact all of the wood is still there. Cut marks from carpenters axes can still be seen and traces of white paint. The explosion and the test of time have caused her to partly collapse. The port hull side remains almost completely intact with rows of cannon ports.  The wreckage sticks up some 11m from the bottom at its highest point. In the stern divers can swim into the wreck in an area that may have been the admiral’s quarters.

The starboard side of the ship has collapsed outwards revealing her insides. Cannons too many to count litter the wreck site along with numerous other objects.The wreck site is large, there are object as far as 150m from the wreck. Probably thrown there by the explosion. The historical accounts tell of the main mast shooting up like an arrow. To the east of the wreck site there is mast like remains. They have not yet been investigated. To date less than a handful dives have been done on the Mars. Much remains to be discovered. The Mars is sure to hold many surprises in the future.

A small video to see her and a bit of her history made by National Geographic

(Sources: National Geographic 2017, X-RAY Magazine No.59 2014 and MARIS research institute at Södertörn University, Deep Sea Production, Marin Mätteknik, Swedish National Defence College, The Maritime Museum, The Vasa Museum, Center for Maritime Studies at Southampton University, Kalmar County Museum)

#naval history #swedish warship Mars #16th century #article #long post #age of sail #battle of öland 1564

[cincinnatusvirtue]

Syttende Mai: Swedish-Norwegian War of 1814. Norwegian nationalism and the establishment of Sweden’s current royal house.

Europe in 1814-1815 is a flurry political activity.  The War of the Sixth Coalition has supposedly finally defeated Napoleonic France in the spring of 1814.  That autumn in Vienna, Austria the major anti-French powers, Britain, Austria, Prussia and Russia and the anti-republican/anti-Bonapartist restored Bourbon dynasty of France are attempting to dictate terms for the outlook of Europe’s map.  The conservativism of the monarchs from each of these countries sees republicanism and national revolution as the very tenets of ideology that had undid Europe’s delicate balance of power since the French Revolution of 1789.  Austrian Foreign Minister and later Chancellor Klemens Von Metternich is the “maestro” for the so called Concert for Europe or Congress of Vienna is leading the charge, hoping to create system whereby the great powers of Europe will consult each other in an early form of shuttle diplomacy to suppress massive changes to Europe’s map.  For the immediate several decades of the 19th century following Napoleon’s defeat this so called “Metternich System” to varying degrees will work in suppressing nationalist and revolutionary sentiment.  Increasingly this will be difficult to maintain as romantic nationalism and republicanism have been planted as seeds in the collective psyche of Europe’s many peoples.  The Congress of Vienna includes the Big Five (Britain, Austria, Prussia, Russia & Bourbon France) but it also includes Spain, Portugal, Netherlands, various smaller German and Italian states and the Scandinavian powers of Denmark and Sweden.  These latter two nations would have their own roles in the Napoleonic Age and in 1814 romantic nationalism within the third Scandinavian nation, Norway, would give birth briefly to a new nation caught in the dynastic struggles between Denmark and Sweden.

Over the course of Scandinavian history the modern nations of Norway, Denmark and Sweden went through many changes from small petty kingdoms born out of the Viking Age to more unified but separate countries and then countries united under the singular banner of the Kalmar Union (1397-1523).  By the 18th and 19th centuries though they were divided between the Kingdom of Denmark-Norway in personal union and the Kingdom of Sweden.  All these nations were populated by related Germanic peoples who spoke related languages and had common histories, mythologies and cultures all shared the same official religion of Lutheranism.  They were also separated by their own local customs as well and differences in their related languages and somewhat due to historical memory of their overlapping but separate pasts.  Geopolitical struggle also wrapped up Scandinavia.  In the 17th century Sweden arose to become a great power in Europe, forging the Swedish Empire which ruled Sweden, Finland, parts of Baltic countries, Poland, Russia and Germany.  Meanwhile Denmark-Norway had the role of second-tier or middling power in European politics.  Denmark-Norway was in personal union with a single king but Denmark was very much the dominant power in the union with Copenhagen dictating it’s northern partner’s fate.  Sweden remained its rival and Norway was their battleground more often than not.  

During the 18th century, Sweden’s off and on wars with Poland-Lithuania, Russia, Denmark-Norway and other powers weakened its status.  By the Napoleonic era, Sweden like Denmark-Norway was a shadow of its former self.  Nevertheless it still retained a strong enough influence to help tip the balance in favor of the French Empire or its opponents.  Sweden’s ruling family, the Holstein-Gottorp dynasty from Germany had at its head Gustav IV Adolf.  Gustav IV was opposed to French republicanism and to Napoleon and sought an alliance with his country’s traditional enemy, Russia.  Against advice from his inner council, Gustav joined the War of the Third Coalition against France in support of Britain, Russia, Austria, Naples & Sicily.  During this war, Sweden was a non-entity.  France won the war with the victory of Austria and Russia at Austerlitz.  During the Prussian lead War of the Fourth Coalition in 1806  Sweden saw its possessions in modern Germany and Poland, known as Swedish Pomerania lost to the French advance which had wiped out the Prussians in under a month and bloodied the Russians as well.  During this time, Napoleon’s troops and the nationalist spirit they invoked revived a partial Polish state, the Duchy of Warsaw.  The Duchy was seen by Polish nationalists as a first step towards reviving the conquered Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth which had been partitioned in the 18th century by Prussia, Russia and Austria.  The French saw it more or less as a client state and vehicle from which it could support its own army in ventures elsewhere in Europe.  The defeat of Russia in 1807 and the Treaty of Tilsit now forced Russia to join Napoleon’s economic blockade of his most steadfast enemy, Britain.  It also put Russia at odds with Sweden which remained a British ally.

1808 saw the Finnish War between Sweden and Russia, the Russians overwhelmed Swedish garrisons in Finland proper and then in a daring infantry crossing of the ice frozen waters of the Gulf of Bothnia arrived on the eastern Swedish shores where Sweden was forced to surrender.  Finland was lost to the Russians ever after, becoming the new Grand Principality/Duchy of Finland with the Tsar as Grand Duke.  Sweden’s fall from the heights of power was never more evident.  1809 Gustav IV was arrested and overthrown in a coup and replaced by his uncle and former regent, who was crowned Charles XIII.  Charles XIII was old, suffered from heart attacks and had no suitable heir.  His role in governance was minimal and more ceremonial for the presentation of stability.  The Swedish parliament, the Riksdag needed to find a new heir.  It found it initially in a Danish prince, who Charles XIII adopted as he was named Charles August, however the prince died from a stroke while riding a horse, he was only 41, so the search renewed.  The ultimate choice was from an unlikely source, Napoleonic France.  

Jean Bernadotte was a Frenchman who came from the middle class once hoping to become an attorney.  He had no noble connections but eventually made his way into the army and under the French Revolution where men could be promoted on merit and not have to rely on aristocratic connection Bernadotte became an officer.  He fought in numerous campaigns in Germany and Italy in particular and earned praise for valor and inspiring his men.  By the time Napoleon came to power in France, Bernadotte eventually became one of eighteen of his Marshals of the Empire, a new form of aristocracy based on Napoleon’s need to control the military and to honor his subordinate men of distinction.  Bernadotte was also made Prince of Ponte Corvo for his service in the Battle of Austerlitz.  However, he also began to fell afoul of his Emperor’s favor gradually.  During the 1806 campaign against Prussia while leading his own French Corps, Bernadotte was ordered to support Marshal Davout’s Corps but due to poor roads failed to commit troops to battle.  Though his troops nearby presence aided in forcing the Prussians to retreat.  Napoleon believed his disobeyed orders and nearly court-martialed Bernadotte.  Though no such action was taken and Bernadotte was kept in the campaign.  His corps eventually captured the German city of Lubeck which had Prussian, Swedish and Dano-Norwegian soldiers in it.  Swedish prisoners were well treated by Bernadotte and returned to Sweden regaling their fair treatment by Bernadotte.  Following the Treaty of Tilsit which made peace with Russia and Prussia and made them into reluctant but nominal French allies Bernadotte was made a regional governor in north Germany where he proved an adept administrator.  He was tasked with invading Sweden but lack of troop transport ships and the new Spanish campaign in which France turned on its former ally Spain lead to new focus elsewhere.  Meanwhile Denmark-Norway became a new ally of the French in 1808 and this lead to a limited war between Britain and Denmark.  Bernadotte served as leader of French troops in Denmark.  He well treated and respected the Danes, earning good favor with more Scandinavians.   During Napoleon’s campaign against Spain he wanted to install a new king on the throne one with Bonapartist connections.  Bernadotte was a first choice but he rejected the offer.  Napoleon instead went with his own brother Joseph Bonaparte.  Joseph was friends with Bernadotte and in fact his brother in law.  Since both were married to the Clary sisters with Joseph married to Julie Clary and Bernadotte to Desiree Clary, one time fiancée of Napoleon himself.

Bernadotte continued to serve with the French in the War of the Fifth Coalition against a renewed Austrian Empire and fought in command of a subordinate German (Saxon) corps. that was virtually obliterated at the Battle of Wagram.  Napoleon got the victory but relieved Bernadotte of his command and sent him back to France for administrative duties first in Belgium then back to Paris.  During his role in preparing an army in Belgium (Army of Antwerp) Bernadotte made criticisms of Napoleon which found their way back to the Emperor.  He was to be sent to Spain, he disobeyed the order and was sent to face Napoleon himself was instead given a new role as governor of the Papal States in French occupied Rome, Italy.  Unexpectedly the invitation to become heir to the Swedish throne was presented to Bernadotte, in part due to the humane treatment he had shown Swedish prisoners of war years earlier and in part due to his overall diplomatic and administrative prowess.  By this time, 1810, Sweden had come to peace terms with France.

Bernadotte had longed to advance to a position of full on royalty and his occasional differences with Napoleon had essentially left him to fulfill an endless cycle of administrative duties that while important were not satisfying to his own desires.  Not only was his humane treatment of Swedish troops in the past a consideration, but the Swedes thought a Napoleonic insider might make relations with France more diplomatic in the future as well as give insight into Napoleon’s character whether in opposition or as an ally.  Napoleon was sought for advice by the Swedes and initially put forth his own stepson (Eugene de Beauharnais) who served as Viceroy of the Napoleonic Kingdom of Italy as a candidate but his stepson refused to convert to Lutheranism which was required by the Swedish Riksdag as part of the deal.  Napoleon also could not convince any of his brothers who already occupied thrones nor were his nephews old enough, so Bernadotte was accepted by Napoleon to be emancipated from service to France.  Initially, he made Bernadotte take an oath never to take up arms against France but Bernadotte refused stating he couldn’t determine the path Sweden might take, Napoleon eventually relented unconditionally.  It was later to be a strategic error on his part.

Bernadotte arrived in Stockholm, Sweden on November 5th, 1810.  He was adopted by King Charles XIII as a son made heir to the throne officially.  He also converted from Roman Catholicism to Lutheranism as required.  He was well received by the Swedes who popularly believed he would gain some territory for them, namely Finland.  With Charles XIII infirm, Bernadotte, rechristened Charles John or Karl Johan, set about governing the country, namely its foreign policy.  He was pressured to retake Finland but he realized due to Sweden’s finances, need for military reform, logistical difficulties with Russian troop strength and the Finns lack of desire for reunion with Sweden, the war wouldn’t end in their favor.  Furthermore, France was pressuring Sweden to comply with the Continental System and declare war on Britain, lest it face a three way invasion from France, Russia and Denmark.  The new Crown Prince Charles John agreed to this, leading to a low level war with Britain which realized it was Napoleonic pressure which lead to Sweden’s nominal declaration of war.  Little activity resulted from this and Sweden and Britain’s “war” was virtually in name only which satisfied Napoleon.  Both nations steered clear of conflict foreseeing economic disaster and realizing each other’s potential as allies against France at a later date.  This opportunity came when Napoleon launched an invasion of Russia in 1812 due to its lack of compliance with the Continental System.  Napoleon was lead further and further into Russia facing a few large battles that were tactical victories but not the decisive one he needed.  He captured Moscow that was left in burning ruins by the retreating Russians and eventually news of a coup in Paris forced him to abandon his troops to a long drawn out retreat back to friendly territory in Poland.  The French and allied army was drained by desertion, disease, battle, starvation, Russian attrition and most famously the Russian winter.  By 1813 the failed invasion forced Napoleon to raise new armies back in France and Germany while he once conquered foes Prussia and Austria rejoined a resurgent and advancing Russia.  Meanwhile, the British Royal Navy commanded the seas and contributed ground troops to the years long Peninsular War joining Portugal and Spanish guerillas in pushing back the French occupiers and their Spanish Bonapartist collaborators to French border.  With France on the retreat, Sweden sensed it was their time to join in an make a difference.  The final tipping point for Sweden was the French refusal to accept transferring Norway from their Danish ally to Sweden to compensate for the loss of Finland.  Charles John joined the War of the Sixth Coalition now commanding Swedish forces numbering almost 20,000 in the so called Army of the North which reinforced by 30,000 Prussians and a British regiment converged with the main Prussian, Russian and Austrian armies near Leipzig, Germany where the French supported by Polish, Italian and German allies were defeated in the so called Battle of the Nations which lasted for three days in October 1813.  Part way through the battle, German vassals of Napoleon from the client Kingdoms of Saxony and Wurttemberg switched sides and joined the Coalition against France.  Napoleon was defeated and in a fighting retreat against the advancing Allies.  The other powers were fine with Denmark losing Norway to Sweden as compensation and the Swedes quickly turned their attention away from France instead fighting the Danes and beating them in December at the Battle of Bornhoved, the last time in history to the present day that Denmark and Sweden in their long historical rivalry would fight each other.

Following this campaign in January 1814, Britain and Sweden forced Denmark to sign the Treaty of Kiel.  It gave the British some small islands off the Danish coast as compensation and the whole of the Kingdom of Norway proper to Sweden.  In exchange Sweden gave Denmark, Swedish Pomerania in Northern Germany/Poland.  Excluded from this exchange was the Norwegian dependencies of the Faroe Islands, Iceland and Greenland which all remained with the Danish crown.  Denmark in turn also joined the anti-French coalition but little came of this since Napoleon abdicated and went into exile on Elba in April 1814 (only to return in 1815 and reign during the 100 Days until the Battle of Waterloo finally defeated him).

Norwegians had no say in the Dano-Swedish negotiations and spurred by feelings of romantic nationalism for their own nationhood with distant memories of a time with Norway was a dominant Scandinavian power free of Danish or Swedish rule.  Accordingly events in Scandinavia shifted from France now turned to regional conflict.  Norway refused Swedish authority and accepted that Denmark had given up on them, they declared independence and passed a liberal constitution calling for a constitutional monarchy.  It was signed by the Norwegian Assembly on May 17, 1814 (Syttende Mai) and they named Danish Crown Prince Christian Frederick its own independent king, separate from Demark.  He accepted and quickly showed up in Norway to take control of events.  Sweden wouldn’t stand for Norwegian independence and Denmark refused to get involved after the Napoleonic Wars.  Determined to make the most of what was promised to them, Sweden under Charles John’s military leadership engaged in the brief Swedish-Norwegian War in the summer of 1814.

Sweden planned a pincer movement across the border to trap Norwegian troops and to take the capital, Christiania (Oslo) .  Norway got 30,000 volunteers to make up their army while the Swedes could muster 45,000 troops. The Swedes were experienced and well equipped and with Charles John, a former Napoleonic French general as their leader had sound leadership when compared to their Norwegian enemy.  However, the Norwegians did have artillery and great deal of pride and what followed was a three campaign that saw the Norwegians in a fighting retreat.  The Norwegians, to the Swedes surprise, put up a more spirited fight than expected.  Winning tactical victories in the Battles of Lier and Langes but both only delayed the inevitable as the Norwegian command was hampered by indecisiveness in overall strategy and the Swedes continued to outflank them.  Eventually with crucial Norwegian fortresses outgunned and outnumbered, they surrendered and fell back.  On August 14, 1814, Norwegian representatives separate from their elected king, Christian Frederick signed the Convention of Moss which agreed to a ceasefire/surrender of Norwegian forces but given the Norwegians early victories and Swedes desire to end things quickly and not hamper long term relations agreed to a more equitable arrangement.  Moss decided the following points, Sweden and Norway would agree to a personal union with the Swedish monarch as king of both countries.  However, Sweden and Norway would have separate parliaments, the Riksdag in Sweden and the Storting in Norway.  Christian Frederick would return to Denmark and abandon all claims to Norway which as a constitutional monarch he accepted the will of his people.  Finally, Norway would be allowed to maintain its own separate constitution as was created in May 1814 with minor amendments to accommodate the new union.  Charles John, being future king accepted these terms as did the Swedes and the Norwegian Storting.

In the aftermath, the Union of Sweden-Norway was born in 1814 with Charles XIII as its first king, reigning until his death in 1818.  Charles John finally took over as King of Sweden & Norway as Charles XIV John.  His descendants, the House of Bernadotte rule Sweden as a constitutional monarchy to this day.  The Swedish-Norwegian war also notable as the last war between these two nations and the very last war Sweden has fought to the present time, having maintained neutrality in all wars since that time.  Sweden-Norway out of the Convention of Moss allowed Norway to not be a conquest but received as a fully equal entity with its own internal parliament and separate constitution while sharing the same monarch, this dynamic was in some ways a precursor to the later dual monarchy model followed by the Austrian Empire when in became the Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1867.  

At times over the next century, the Union would see periods of cooperation, pan-Scandinavian sentiment, including proposed union with Denmark and varying degrees of estrangement.  Issues for Sweden-Norway centered around having a common foreign policy dictated from Stockholm which began to fuel recurring resentment among the Norwegians since they couldn’t debate foreign policy themselves and only their Prime Minister could represent their interests while the Swedish Riksdag directed policy.  Furthermore, Swedish cultural attitudes tended to view Norway and Norwegians as junior partners in the Union and very much still a subjugated people only added to resentment from Norway.  Emigration from both countries but particularly Norway to the United States during the 19th century was commonplace, so much so that Norwegian-American and Swedish-American communities grew to have distinct ethnic enclaves and cultural impacts in the US, mostly centered in the Upper Midwestern states and even on cuisine and the regional American English dialects spoken.  In the present day more Norwegian-Americans exist than do Norwegians in Norway.  Finally, the continued cultural resentment and practical differences in two separate parliaments and disagreement over foreign policy lead to a renewed desire for separation and dissolution to the Union.  Their were attempts to accommodate a separate foreign policy for Norway but Sweden and Norway couldn’t agree on its terms and Sweden threated military intervention anytime Norway brought up independence.  Sweden’s parliament began to double down in the early 20th century on Sweden taking more precedence over Norway, increasing tension and fracturing the Union.  Finally, in 1905 with impasse being unavoidable Norway’s Storting tried one last attempt to get then King Oscar II to approve a separate foreign service, he exercised his veto and declined.  The ministers of Norway tendered their resignation, which he refused to accept since no replacements to form a new government could be found.  The ministers turned their government’s fate to the Storting’s hands, unilaterally they declared Oscar II had ceased to be Norway’s king and declared an end to the union with Sweden.  Sweden declared this a Norwegian revolt.  Sweden’s Riksdag did however agree to consider negotiation for the dissolution if the Norwegian people passed it in a plebiscite.  The Storting anticipated this move announced their own plebiscite on August 13th prior to the Swedish demand being made.  The plebiscite was not phrased in such a way to ask yes or no in favor but rather did the Norwegian people recognize the union as de-facto dissolved already, 99% of the voters agreed it had.  There was a unlikely prospect of war, but both sides had considered it, Norway had asked for a several million dollar loan from France in the event of such a conflict.  Following the vote, Norway asked Sweden’s Riksdag to cooperate, both sides agreed to hold talks.  That September Swedish troops on the border were placed and in response Norwegian army and naval troops were put on standby.  Nevertheless and agreement was reached on September 23rd, 1905.  The union would dissolve but a neutral zone to be arbitrated by the international court in the Hague would decide its outcome, also Norway must dismantle its fortifications seen as an act of potential aggression against Sweden.  Oscar II then renounced all claims to the Norwegian throne for himself and his descendants.  The Storting made one last offer for a descendant of his take the throne separately but Oscar declined seeing it as pointless.  The Storting then offered the throne of Norway to yet another Danish prince, as it had 91 years prior, this time Carl of Denmark who accepted and became King of Norway Haakon VII, the first unanimously recognized monarch of an independent Norway since 1387.  His descendants in the House of Glucksburg reign as monarchs of Norway to this day with his grandson Harald V as the current king.  The 17th of May or Syttende Mai is celebrated in Norway as Constitution Day to this day and in Norwegian- American communities is the most visible public celebration of Norway and Norwegian culture.  

#norway #sweden #denmark #sweden-norway #swedish norwegian war #norwegian independence #syttende mai #napoleonic wars #19th century #nationalism

[cat-with-a-tie]

A DenNor analysis of sorts

Hello, sweet chirping crickets! I’ve been shipping this ship for literal years now but have never plucked up the courage to actually interact with anyone or anything, so I’ve no idea why I’m doing it now, in the year of our Lord 2019, but hey, it’s never too late to get dragged back into aph hell.

I plan on posting a series of long ass rants that absolutely no one asked for in which I attempt to discuss the dynamics of DenNor and the Nordic characters in general, drawing mainly on Himaruya’s portrayal, historical facts, and my own headcanons, so welcome to the first installation of Stuff Nobody Really Cares About that I Wrote in a Fit of Boredom and Self-indulgence!

Before we start, if anyone’s reading this at all then please bear in mind that this is mostly just IMHO. And since there’s no correct way to ship a pairing (this cannot be stressed enough), my interpretation is just that—my personal interpretation, and it is by no means impartial because there’s definitely a healthy dose of my own preferences in there. Actually, I haven’t got any mutuals to talk to at the moment, so if my interpretation’s terrible, by all means go on and yell at me, I will love you to death for it.

In this post I’m going to rant about Norway’s personality (or his lack of it, thereof; don’t worry I’ll get to it later), with just a tiny segment on Denmark thrown in the mix, because hey, I do need to sleep.

“Anko” and its implications for Norway’s character

So, as most people probably already know, in the Japanese version Norway calls Denmark “anko”. In the Northeastern dialect he speaks, this is something like a diminutive form of “big brother” or “boss” (yes, Norway calls Denmark big brother!). In East Asian cultures, it is commonplace for younger men to address older ones (related or not) by honorifics ranging from super courteous to super casual, such as “aniki” in Japanese, “hyung” in Korean, and “da-ge” or “ge” in Mandarin. “Anko” also falls under this category, although it is still more casual than the more ubiquitous “aniki”. I struggle to convey its exact denotations in English, but all you need to know is that this is an affectionate way of addressing a man older than you.

But here’s a funny thing: Himaruya once stated that Denmark and Norway are “like classmates” （同級生）. Now, the Japanese term actually has a somewhat different meaning from the English one; “doukyuusei” does not strictly refer to people who are/were in the same class, but to people who belong in the same school year and therefore, in most cases, share the same age. This actually makes sense, because if we consider history, up until the 14th century or so the three Scandinavian kingdoms developed at much the same pace, so it would be reasonable to assume (despite Himaruya’s being abominably vague on nation mechanism) that the characters are of similar ages as well.

Why, then, does Himaruya have Norway refer to Denmark, who should be about the same age as he is, as “anko”? The thing is, aside from denoting age difference, this sort of honorific can also denote a difference in status. Even if someone is not significantly older than you, you may still refer to them with an honorific if you feel their status is above you or wish to pay them respect in an affectionate way.

So, consider this: Norway does not disrespect or look down on Denmark at all, in fact, he respects him enough to call him something akin to “boss” or “older brother”. Bear in mind that this is Norway we’re talking about, Norway of the onii-chan obsession! There’s no doubt that he sees a great deal of significance in this sort of thing, otherwise he wouldn’t be so bent on having Iceland address him as such. And he calls Denmark “big brother”. Just… just take a minute to let that sink in, will ya.

So this brings us to the main subject of my essay, and that is that Norway, for all his sass, is a bit of a doormat.

Now, before anyone starts yelling at me about how his people are perhaps the most fiercely patriotic out of all the Nordic countries, please let me finish my theory. You don’t get independence after centuries of being a glorified trophy bride and not feel the need to vent all that pent up frustration, after all.

First, if you look at strips such as the Denmark vs. Sweden frozen lake fiasco, you’ll see that Norway basically goes along with anything Denmark does, even when he’s actions are outright harebrained (and, to be fair, they often were). He might nag, and he might throw in a word or two of complaints, but at the end of the day Denmark calls the shots, and Norway seems pretty content to let him do so, even when sometime it’s him who has to bear the consequences of Denmark’s brashness (historically, during the many conflicts between Denmark and Sweden, many of which Denmark initiated, Sweden would often bypass Denmark and invade Norway instead, since its lack of military prowess meant that Norway could be used as leverage to force Denmark into accepting all sorts of outrageous conditions; meanwhile, any sort of military action Denmark engaged in was exceptionally taxing—no pun intended—on Norway due to its small population and frequent food shortages). 

Also keep in mind that compared to the strips set in modern times, Norway’s treatment of Denmark was considerably milder in the medieval era. My theory is that his attitude towards Denmark only soured after the chain of events that eventually lead to his independence in the 19th century, buuut that’s an essay for another time! Right now I’d like to discuss a personality trait of Norway’s that fascinates me a lot and directly ties into his tendency to be pushed around: his standoffishness.

This is a character inclined to keep on the sidelines and just watch things unfold, even when said events concern his very own person. He doesn’t seem to give a fig when Denmark and Sweden are fighting to the death—hell, not even when they are fighting over him, something that happened a lot in history.

Now, I can think of two main reasons for this passiveness, the first being that Norway, unlike Denmark, probably knows his own limitations to a degree that I believe must have been painful for him at times (not that he shows it, anyway). Although of course being able to see and communicate with magical creatures could result in one being a little less interested in the mortal realm, I find it unlikely that he was always this disengaged. He was once a Viking, after all, and up until the 13th century his kingdom was arguably the most powerful and expansive in all of Scandinavia.

But then, of course, came the Black Death. Norway’s decline in the late Middle Ages was in fact facilitated by a myriad of factors including civil war, incompetent politicians, and either a shortage or a surplus of kings, but having three quarters of its population decimated by the plague was perhaps the heaviest blow of all, and by the time the Kalmar Union took place the prospects of competing with Denmark or Sweden were pretty bleak.

From there on was what 19th century Norwegian nationalist poet Wergeland dubbed the “four hundred years of night”. Although most modern historians agree that Norway was far from destitute under Danish rule and may even have benefitted considerably from it, in terms of Norway’s development as a character, I reckon it could be said that he was, in fact, shrouded in night. The night in question, however, as opposed to being a symbol of Danish tyranny as Wergeland probably intended it to be, would be more of a metaphor for Norway’s own willingness to “fall asleep”, thereby shutting out a world in which he knew he has no say. In this way, he turned a blind eye on Denmark’s ill-fated endeavors, on Sweden’s budding ambition, on the animosity brewing between his two friends, and probably even on Denmark’s mistreatment of him.

During the Kalmar Union, he must have known that he was the weakest of the three kingdoms, and that it was better to just let things take their course instead of joining the fight for hegemony along with Sweden and Denmark. During the union with Denmark, he knew too that life would be far easier if he just went along with things; after all, he knew Denmark, he knew he was stubborn and that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. He also knew that Denmark meant well and that, despite everything, he cared a great deal for his family, as shown in the tax raise strip where Norway tells Denmark that “[it’s OK] because you’re trying your best”. 

It’s possible that Norway also derived some degree of consolation from Denmark’s affection, in that even though as nations they stood on uneven ground, as friends and as people he could still trust Denmark to have his best interests at heart. Also, by telling himself that he and Denmark were “in this boat together”, Norway could avoid the sense of relative deprivation that arose from being a nation in an unequal union, and subsequently avoid feeling resentment towards Denmark, whom he’s always cared for and perhaps even looked up to despite everything. His referring to Denmark as “anko” despite being roughly the same age as him can perhaps be interpreted as a sign of this (arguably unwarranted) trust.

So in short, a prolonged sense of powerlessness led Norway to become emotionally detached as a form of defense mechanism, while affection for his childhood friend made him reluctant to put his foot down when Denmark’s arrogance and blind optimism threatened to get out of hand. All this serves to expedite the standoffishness I mentioned earlier that is typical of his character.

Thus, if we accept the theory (note the italics) of Denmark once upon a time being abusive, I personally find it plenty believable that Norway would just, well, lie back and take it. In part because he cares deeply for Denmark and is dependent on him in a bit of an unhealthy way (there’s already a wonderfully insightful post right here on tumblr addressing Norway’s shyness and how his trust in Denmark sometimes manifests as crassness, so I’m not gonna go into that here), and in part because he knows being submissive is the path of least resistance. Taking whatever Denmark the person inflicts on him would still be far more ideal than going to war with or losing the support of Denmark the nation. So yeah, lie back and think of yourself, I guess.

In this regard Norway’s mentality is drastically different from that of Denmark and Sweden’s, which is that one should always fight a losing battle if the alternative is being trod on. He acts more according to strategy, while the other two act more according to pride and passion. The upside is that, being more pragmatic and knowing his limits, he knows better where and how to deploy his strengths; the downside is that he can at times come off as a bit of a pushover.

Incidentally, this is why I find WWII history to be so damn interesting in terms of the Nordic’s characterisations, because we get to see the Viking Trio seemingly go against everything that had until then defined their personalities. To be fair, this is way after all that fucked up shit with the treaties of Fredrikshamn and Kiel, which I consider a major turning point (or mental growth spur, if you will) for all five Nordics, so I reckon it all still kind of makes sense because of the wonderful mechanics of character development? But then again, that’s an essay for another time!

A bit on Denmark

I like to think of Denmark’s behaviour during his youth as the result of a misguided desire to “play house”—out of love for his family (arguably for Norway in particular) he wishes to keep them safe, and what better way to do that than keeping them all under his wing? Sure, I’m ready to believe at least some part of him was fueled by bloodlust and a thirst for power, as is often the case with nations, but in general he simply didn’t know better.

In the mean time, Norway’s docile compliance did nothing to curb this misconception; worst case scenario, it only served to fuel it, make Denmark feel like he really was the leader and that it was his obligation to be in charge for the sake of them both. I consider their relationship in this time period to be quite toxic, even though related strips show them to be closer than ever.

For me, a significant part of Denmark’s character development is him realising that the happiness of his loved ones should not have to depend on him, and that one can be loved without being needed (in terms of DenNor, it’s him learning to love Norway as an equal and not just someone to be protected/coddled).

For Norway it’s the opposite—he learns to regain control over his own life, to stand up for himself and to love Denmark without taking any bullshit from him.

#dennor #aph #hetalia #aph nordics #aph norway #aph denmark #rant

[rave-lord-nito]

Sinklars vise and The Battle of Kringen. Time for another song translation, but this one also has quite the interesting backstory that i’ll get into after the lyrics (be warned though, it is a gruesome song about war with some quite graphic content, so readers discretion is advised):

Lyrics:

Lord Sinclair went over salty sea, to Norway his course was set, amongst Gudbrands cliffs he found his grave, there awaited bloody a brow. Arise before the daybreak, They are coming across the heath. At Romsdals coast he came ashore, declared himself an enemy, him followed fourteen-hundred men, who all had evil in mind. Arise before the daybreak, They are coming across the heath.   They pillaged and burned wherever they went, all the rights they defied, they were not moved by the frailty of age, they spat upon the weeping widow. Arise before the daybreak, They are coming across the heath. 

The child was slain in the mothers grasp, no matter how benignly it smiled, but tales of this grief and misery to the core of the country they hurried. Arise before the daybreak, They are coming across the heath.

And the beacons blazed and the messenger ran, from neighbour to nearest neighbour, and the sons of the valley hid not in their sheds, that must Lord Sinclair realize, Arise before the daybreak, They are coming across the heath. 

The farmers from Vågå, Lesja and Lom, with sharp axes on their shoulders, in Bredebygd they gathered together, with the Scotsman they wanted to speak, Arise before the daybreak, They are coming across the heath. 

Forwards farmers, forwards Norwegian men, strike them down, strike them down underfoot! then the Scotsman wished himself home again    his mood was cheerful no longer, Arise before the daybreak, They are coming across the heath.

No living soul came home again, who his countrymen could tell, how perilous it is to visit them, who dwells amongst Norways mountains, Arise before the daybreak, They are coming across the heath.

The history:

This song tells the story of the Battle of Kringen. During the Kalmar War of 1611 to 1613, the Swedish king Gustav II Adolf (Gustavus Adolphus) hired mercenaries in his war against Denmark-Norway. One of these mercenary bands, a Scottish contingent under Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Ramsay and Captains George Hay and George Sinclair (from whom the song takes its name) encountered a problem. 

To get to their employer in Sweden, they would need to sail through the Danish straits, a current impossibility due to the fact that the straits were blockaded by the Dano-Norwegian fleet. It was instead decided that the force would land on the Norwegian west coast and march down the valleys of Romsdal and Gudbrandsdal to the Swedish border. It was not unprecedented, as a similar expedition of Dutch forces had previously done the so called Mönnichhoven-march, a similar maneuver, with some success. They had also been successful in defeating a force of Norwegian conscripts that had hastily been sent against them.

However, fearing a similar defeat and its consequences, the Norwegians mustered a numerically superior force, which laid itself in ambush at Kringen, a bend in the road around the mountainslope and close to the rivers edge, south of the town of Otta. Owing to both their numerical superiority as well as the surprise attack, the 500 Norwegians dealt the 300 Scotsmen a decisive defeat with most of the Scottish force being killed (George Sinclair included) and the rest taken prisoner and sent to Christiania (modern day Oslo) for imprisonment.

#long post #history #norwegian #norwegian langblr #langblr #norwegian history #death tw

[mmazzeroo]

Tagged by the lovely @through-my-shadow. Sorry for replying so late. I promise I didn’t forget you, was just busy for a bit 

These were some good questions, really made me think lol

1. Where does your username come from/what does it mean?

My name is Maria. I have an Aussie friend and, for those who don’t know, Australians have a habit of adding z’s to a name for uhh fun I guess lol. So Garry becomes Gazz or Gazzer, Joyti would be Jozz (I guess), and Maria turns into Mazz :) Sometimes I’m called Mazzeroo (Mazz + kangaroo) to really stress the Aussie part of it. That name was taken (don’t remember if it was here or some other platform), so I just added another M in front to make it mmazzeroo :)

2. One city/country you want to visit before you die?

Everywhere lol I’ve never been outside Europe so… I’d love to see Morocco, Egypt, India, Australia, Mozambique, Angola, Botswana, Kenya, Tanzania, Brazil, Ecuador, Peru, cross-country ride in the US, see Canada’s vastness. When my unknown-to-me millionaire uncle in a far away country dies and leaves his fortune to me I’d also love to go see the Seychelles, Mauritius, and Tahiti lol

3. If you could resurrect one historical figure who would it be?

Just one?!?! *several hours later* I’ve managed to narrow my list to the following:

- Margaret I, (1353-1412), queen consort of Norway and Sweden and later ruler in her own right of Denmark, Norway and Sweden. She was the founder of the Kalmar Union, which spanned Scandinavia for over a century. Margaret was known as a wise, energetic and capable leader, who governed with farsighted tact and caution. She was derisively called "King Breechless", one of several mean nicknames invented by her rival Albert of Mecklenburg, but was also known by her subjects as "the Lady King", which became widely used in recognition of her capabilities.

- Elizabeth I, (1533-1603), Queen of England and Ireland from 17 November 1558 until her death on 24 March 1603. Sometimes called the Virgin Queen, Gloriana or Good Queen Bess, Elizabeth was the last of the five monarchs of the House of Tudor. Don’t think she needs anymore introduction really :)

- Last but not least I’d bring back what I think would be an amazing trio: Mozart, Freddie Mercury and Prince 💜💜💜 ( @callmedewitt, @thebeautyofjoneryzz )

4. If you could only watch one film for the rest of your life, which one would it be?

Sound of Music. Self-explanatory. I’d like to think @jalenmara would agree with me *fingers crossed*

5. Do you believe in reincarnation?

Yes, I do, because I think there’s too much to learn and see in this world than can be done in just one lifetime. Also, because I find solace in the idea that I can hopefully get to see all (or just some) of the loved ones I’ve already had to see cross the rainbow bridge...

6. A scent that immediately makes you think of your childhood?

Freshly melted dark chocolate. My granddad watched me the first few years of my life while my parents were working. He was a retired pastry maker - chocolates, marcipan, Danish pastries etc. (For reference, I’m a native Dane btw). He would make it at home in his kitchen and I still remember waking up from naps to the smell of freshly melted dark chocolate. My granddad would of of course let me lick the bowl lol. I grew up having Danish pastries and confectionery chocolates almost daily because of my granddad. Didn’t know how lucky and spoiled I was lol

7. If you could plan your last meal, what would it be?

Beans on toast and a strong cup of tea? I don’t know. Would it really matter? If I knew it’d be my last meal I don’t think I’d be very hungry anyway. If I didn’t know then it’d be fine with a meal like this for me. Having comfort food as a last meal would be fitting somehow I feel.

8. Know any good jokes?

This one always makes me laugh because it’s so stupid + I can hear Eddie laughing at it himself:

“A bear and a rabbit were taking a shit in the woods. And the bear turns to the rabbit and says, ‘Excuse me, do you have problems with shit sticking to your fur?’ And the rabbit says, ‘no." So the bear wiped his ass with the rabbit.” - Eddie Murphy Delirious, 1983

This one always makes me laugh because it’s so stupid + I can hear Eddie laughing at it himself 

9. Most found colour in your wardrobe?

Probably blue and black. It goes well with pretty much everything else

10. Do you have any pets?

Grew up with both cats and dogs so I’m not one of those who’ll ever say one is better than the other. They require different things and certain lifestyles fit one better than the other I’d say. All that just to say that currently I have a cat:

11. Post a gif of the last TV show you watched.

Sara Ramirez in a suit, sometimes walking around with necktie and suspenders...it does something to me. The political topics being portrayed in the series are good too lol

Sorry, don’t have new questions for new people...

#tag games #question game

[fatherlanddenmark]

The Kalmar Union part 2 - The Conflicts and Breach of the Treaty

After the death of Margrete, the 31 year old Erik of Pomeranian ruled as king of the Kalmar Union. He attempted to follow the course of his adoptive mother, but he was unable to control the already agitated nobility and was of a considerably less diplomatic character than his predecessor. Where Margrete had spent most of her time Sweden, Erik had a tendency to confine himself to Denmark instead, visiting Sweden less and less frequently and never setting his foot on Norwegian soil since 1412. Following his mother’s example he attempted to integrate all the kingdoms, hoping to make a single Council, where people came to Copenhagen to decide. He also attempted to win Scleswig back to Denmark, as Margrete had been doing, but rather than doing it in a diplomatic way - as his adoptive mother - he chose to go to war instead. In Norway the bailiffs of castles were appointed among Danes, and in Sweden they both came from Denmark and even Germany, and as with Margrete I, the bishops were handpicked among his friends. 

The Swedish Riksråd (Council of the Realm) made accusations as a support of the peasant and miner’s rebellion in Sweden in the summer 1434. He was accused of breaking the agreement that promised no foreigners controlled the Swedish possessions, was claimed to put incapable men on the seats of bishops, and that the taxes upon the peasants were devastating due to his constant war for Southern Jutland. The accusations were sent to both the Norwegian rigsråd, the Hanseatic States - which had a lot of economic influence on the Union - and the Teutonic Order in a circular letter. Already in November the same year they agreed to make negotiations rather than fighting, and in 1435 they agreed that the old agreements should be followed. Power was given back to the various Councils concerning the bailiffs, taxes were to be determined in unity between the King and the Councils, and Sweden were to have a seneschal back. 

The agreements were just settled before Norway as well experienced a peasant rebellion, and soon after the Danish nobility opposed his choice of putting his uncle’s son his heir to the throne. Finally he was forced to flee to Gotland, and he lost his status as king in 1439 in Sweden and Denmark, and then in Norway a year later. 

After him the Councils elected Erik’s nephew, Christoffer III of Bavaria, as king of the Scandinavian countries (1440 in Denmark, 1441 in Sweden and 1442 in Norway). He had no knowledge of the Scandinavian policies, but accepted the offer nonetheless. The nobility intended for him to be a simple puppet, so they could control their businesses on their own, but the result was a good mix of the king’s personal influence and the power of the nobility - the power structure which held on to Denmark until the absolutism in 1660. 

Unfortunately the Swedes had no liking of the man, thinking he was ‘too German’ and still having a lot of trouble with Erik of Pomeranian who resided in Gotland and was doing piracy for a living. The king paid no mind to these troubles, nor was he supporting the Hanseatic States, going against old traditions and supporting German nobles as well as the Netherlands and England instead. 

Their troubles were shortlived, though. He died suddenly of sickness in 1448, getting replaced by two kings - Christian I in Denmark and, breaching the Treaty of the Kalmar, the Swedes chose Karl VIII. Of course this caused a lot of further struggles.

#fun facts #not ask #hetalia #hetalia denmark #hws denmark #denmark #danmark #askfatherlandDenmark #fatherlandDenmark #funfacts

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 6.17

653 – Pope Martin I is arrested and taken to Constantinople, due to his opposition to monothelitism. 1128 – Geoffrey V of Anjou, known as Plantagenet, marries Matilda, daughter of Henry I, King of England, and widow of the Emperor Henry V. 1242 – Following the Disputation of Paris, twenty-four carriage loads of Jewish religious manuscripts were burnt in Paris. 1397 – The Kalmar Union is formed under the rule of Margaret I of Denmark. 1462 – Vlad III the Impaler attempts to assassinate Mehmed II (The Night Attack at Târgovişte), forcing him to retreat from Wallachia. 1497 – Battle of Deptford Bridge: Forces under King Henry VII defeat troops led by Michael An Gof. 1565 – Matsunaga Hisahide assassinates the 13th Ashikaga shōgun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru. 1579 – Sir Francis Drake claims a land he calls Nova Albion (modern California) for England. 1596 – The Dutch explorer Willem Barentsz discovers the Arctic archipelago of Spitsbergen. 1631 – Mumtaz Mahal dies during childbirth. Her husband, Mughal emperor Shah Jahan I, will spend the next 17 years building her mausoleum, the Taj Mahal. 1665 – Battle of Montes Claros: Portugal definitively secured independence from Spain in the last battle of the Portuguese Restoration War. 1673 – French explorers Jacques Marquette and Louis Jolliet reach the Mississippi River and become the first Europeans to make a detailed account of its course. 1767 – Samuel Wallis, a British sea captain, sights Tahiti and is considered the first European to reach the island. 1773 – Cúcuta, Colombia, is founded by Juana Rangel de Cuéllar. 1775 – American Revolutionary War: Colonists inflict heavy casualties on British forces while losing the Battle of Bunker Hill. 1789 – In France, the Third Estate declares itself the National Assembly. 1794 – Foundation of Anglo-Corsican Kingdom. 1795 – The burghers of Swellendam expel the Dutch East India Company magistrate and declare a republic. 1839 – In the Kingdom of Hawaii, Kamehameha III issues the edict of toleration which gives Roman Catholics the freedom to worship in the Hawaiian Islands. The Hawaii Catholic Church and the Cathedral of Our Lady of Peace are established as a result. 1843 – The Wairau Affray, the first serious clash of arms between Māori and British settlers in the New Zealand Wars, takes place. 1861 – American Civil War: Battle of Vienna, Virginia. 1863 – American Civil War: Battle of Aldie in the Gettysburg Campaign. 1876 – American Indian Wars: Battle of the Rosebud: One thousand five hundred Sioux and Cheyenne led by Crazy Horse beat back General George Crook's forces at Rosebud Creek in Montana Territory. 1877 – American Indian Wars: Battle of White Bird Canyon: The Nez Perce defeat the U.S. Cavalry at White Bird Canyon in the Idaho Territory. 1885 – The Statue of Liberty arrives in New York Harbor. 1898 – The United States Navy Hospital Corps is established. 1900 – Boxer Rebellion: Western Allied and Japanese forces capture the Taku Forts in Tianjin, China. 1901 – The College Board introduces its first standardized test, the forerunner to the SAT. 1910 – Aurel Vlaicu pilots an A. Vlaicu nr. 1 on its first flight. 1922 – Portuguese naval aviators Gago Coutinho and Sacadura Cabral complete the first aerial crossing of the South Atlantic. 1929 – The town of Murchison, New Zealand Is rocked by a 7.8 magnitude earthquake killing 17. At the time it was New Zealand's worst natural disaster. 1930 – U.S. President Herbert Hoover signs the Smoot–Hawley Tariff Act into law. 1932 – Bonus Army: Around a thousand World War I veterans amass at the United States Capitol as the U.S. Senate considers a bill that would give them certain benefits. 1933 – Union Station massacre: In Kansas City, Missouri, four FBI agents and captured fugitive Frank Nash are gunned down by gangsters attempting to free Nash. 1939 – Last public guillotining in France: Eugen Weidmann, a convicted murderer, is executed in Versailles outside the Saint-Pierre prison. 1940 – World War II: RMS Lancastria is attacked and sunk by the Luftwaffe near Saint-Nazaire, France. At least 3,000 are killed in Britain's worst maritime disaster. 1940 – World War II: The British Army's 11th Hussars assault and take Fort Capuzzo in Libya, Africa from Italian forces. 1940 – The three Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania fall under the occupation of the Soviet Union. 1944 – Iceland declares independence from Denmark and becomes a republic. 1948 – United Airlines Flight 624, a Douglas DC-6, crashes near Mount Carmel, Pennsylvania, killing all 43 people on board. 1952 – Guatemala passes Decree 900, ordering the redistribution of uncultivated land. 1953 – Cold War: East Germany Workers Uprising: In East Germany, the Soviet Union orders a division of troops into East Berlin to quell a rebellion. 1958 – The Ironworkers Memorial Second Narrows Crossing, in the process of being built to connect Vancouver and North Vancouver (Canada), collapses into the Burrard Inlet killing 18 ironworkers and injuring others. 1960 – The Nez Perce tribe is awarded $4 million for 7 million acres (28,000 km2) of land undervalued at four cents/acre in the 1863 treaty. 1963 – The United States Supreme Court rules 8–1 in Abington School District v. Schempp against requiring the reciting of Bible verses and the Lord's Prayer in public schools. 1963 – A day after South Vietnamese President Ngô Đình Diệm announced the Joint Communiqué to end the Buddhist crisis, a riot involving around 2,000 people breaks out. One person is killed. 1967 – Nuclear weapons testing: China announces a successful test of its first thermonuclear weapon. 1971 – U.S. President Richard Nixon in a televised press conference called drug abuse "America's public enemy number one", starting the War on drugs. 1972 – Watergate scandal: Five White House operatives are arrested for burgling the offices of the Democratic National Committee during an attempt by members of the administration of President Richard M. Nixon to illegally wiretap the political opposition as part of a broader campaign to subvert the democratic process. 1985 – Space Shuttle program: STS-51-G mission: Space Shuttle Discovery launches carrying Sultan bin Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, the first Arab and first Muslim in space, as a payload specialist. 1987 – With the death of the last individual of the species, the dusky seaside sparrow becomes extinct. 1991 – Apartheid: The South African Parliament repeals the Population Registration Act which required racial classification of all South Africans at birth. 1992 – A "joint understanding" agreement on arms reduction is signed by U.S. President George Bush and Russian President Boris Yeltsin (this would be later codified in START II). 1994 – Following a televised low-speed highway chase, O. J. Simpson is arrested for the murders of his ex-wife, Nicole Brown Simpson, and her friend Ronald Goldman. 2015 – Nine people are killed in a mass shooting at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina. 2017 – A series of wildfires in central Portugal kill at least 64 people and injure 204 others. 2021 – Juneteenth National Independence Day, was signed into law by President Joe Biden, to become the first federal holiday established since Martin Luther King Jr. Day in 1983.

#Events